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Essays on a Liberal Education. London : Mnmwiiipw 
& Co., 1867. 

^PHIS volume is one of a class which has become rather a promi- 
J- nent feature in the literature of the day, the class of which the 
well-known "Essays and Reviews" were perhaps the earliest, as 
they have certainly been the most conspicuous, specimen. The type 
of the class maybe described as a series of essays of moderate length, 
written with a polemical purpose by authors whose views of the 
general subject treated of are not indeed necessarily identical, but 
at any rate convergent. The " Essays and Reviews " evoked various 
replies written on the same plan ; the Ritualistic party has followed 
the example in the two volumes entitled "The Church and the 
World." Within the present year this mode of treatment has been 
extended to political questions ; and we now see it applied to educa- 
tion. Like other literary varieties, it has its advantages and its 
disadvantages. Essays by various writers will, of course, want the 
unity, the compactness, the thoroughness which constitute the value 
of a systematic treatise ; but they are more easily produced, they 
appeal to a wider if a more desultory circle of readers, they 
neutralize the evil of individual crotchetiness, they give play to 


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2 The Contemporary Review. 

special knowledge and special aptitude, and they create something 
of the effect in literature which in practical life is obtained by a 
party demonstration. 

, I hope in the following pages to sketch very briefly the contents 
of the volume, to examine some of the particular opinions advanced, 
and to criticize its general object. My own views differ considerably 
from many of those expressed by the individual writers, nor have I 
more than a limited sympathy with the polemical purpose which 
the book is intended to subserve ; but there is no reason why this 
should interfere with fair and candid criticism, with the respect 
which the character and position of the essayists demand, or the 
regard which most of them claim from me as personal Mends or 

The subjects treated of in the essays are sufficiently various. Mr. 
Parker takes the History of Classical Education ; Mr. Henry Sidg- 
wick, the Theory of Classical Education ; Professor Seeley, Liberal 
Education in Universities ; Mr. Edward Bowen, Teaching by means 
of Grammar ; Mr. Farrar, Greek and Latin Verse Composition as a 
general branch of education ; Mr. J. M. Wilson, the Teaching of 
Natural Science in Schools ; Mr. Hales, the Teaching of English ; 
Mr. Johnson, of Eton, the Education of the Reasoning Faculties ; 
Lord Houghton, the present Social Results of Classical Education. 
Each writes with a more or less distinct purpose of bringing about 
some practical reform. Mr. Parker's essay, being historical, stands 
on a different ground from the rest ; yet he wants English taught in 
schools, modern languages and natural science encouraged in the 
Universities, elementary mathematics made compulsory, the educa- 
tion of passmen improved, and the study of Hebrew introduced; 
Mr. Sidgwick wants Latin and Greek verse and Greek prose to be 
abandoned in schools, natural science, English, and French enforced, 
and the study of Greek deferred, and in many cases discontinued ; 
Mr. Seeley wants to abate the idolatry of the Tripos at Cambridge ; 
Mr. Bowen wants to have boys taught language without systematic 
grammar ; Mr. Farrar wants to abolish Greek and Latin verse as a 
general engine of training ; Mr. Wilson wants to have a course of 
natural science taught compulsorily at school ; Mr. Hales wants to 
have English taught at school before any other language is learnt ; Mr. 
Johnson wants to have the subjects now taught at school so taught 
as to educate the reasoning faculty, and in particular wants to have 
the French language and literature studied systematically ; Lord 
Houghton's wants are less definite and detailed, but he may be said 
generally to want a modern training as a supplement to, if not as a 
substitute for, an ancient. We begin to see already some of the 
advantages of this mode of publication. The number of reforms 
proposed would overweight a single essay, however extensive, and 

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A Liberal Education. 3 

injure the writer's chance of securing a hearing ; while, on the other 
hand, the repetition of the same demands by different thinkers, such 
as those for the abandonment of verses, the teaching of natural 
science, and the teaching of English, produces an effect which could 
hardly be produced, unless under exceptional circumstances, by the 
voice of a single pleader. 

Perh%ps it will be well that, before proceeding further, I should 
indicate my own position with regard to the whole question. My 
belief then is that what we want is not the substitution of one theory 
of liberal education for another, but an arrangement by which 
different theories shall be allowed to subsist side by side. The 
prejudice of which we require to be disabused is not faith in classics 
as an exclusive training, but faith in any training whatever as 
exclusive. It is the growth of free opinion which is undermining the 
supremacy of the present system ; it is only by the suppression of 
free opinion that any other system claiming to be universal can be 
established. As I read the present volume, I find that when the 
essayists advocate their favourite branches of study, I can go along 
with them heartily, even where my own knowledge is not sufficient 
to make my sympathy a very appreciative one. When they desire 
that their studies shall be made compulsory, still more when they 
attempt to discredit the studies advocated by others, they seem to 
me to be venturing beyond their tether, and I no longer listen to 
them with satisfaction. I believe that there are many minds which 
do not require the training into which it is proposed to force them : 
I know that there is at least one which has derived great and 
abiding profit from exercises which are described as injurious and 

This premised, I will make a few remarks on the several essays in 

Mr. Parker's, as I have already said, stands on a different ground 
from the rest. It is not really a polemical one, though a few pages 
of polemical matter appear at the end as the practical conclusion of 
a treatise which is really historical. Even here the reforms desired 
are registered statistically, rather than enforced argumentatively : 
they are not examined, but proposed as things which need examina- 
tion so as to furnish a programme, more or less exact, of the dis- 
cussion which is to follow. But the real value of the essay is as 
a digest of facts; and here I can only wish that it had been longer 
and fuller. Eighty pages out of less than four hundred are certainly 
as much as could fairly be allotted to one essayist out of nine ; but 
eighty pages are scarcely sufficient for a history of the study of the 
classics and the classical languages from the days of the fathers to 
the present time. It is an unavoidable result of this brevity that 
things are treated conjointly which one would have been glad to 

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4 The Contemporary Review. 

see treated separately ; that there is an occasional oscillation of view- 
between two aspects of the subject. The history of classical teaching 
may be said to have two parts, internal and external, — the history of 
its own development, of the changes through which it has passed 
in the successive attempts to work it effectively, and the history of 
its foreign relations, of the extent to which it has encroached on or 
been encroached on by teaching of other kinds. Of these the latter 
perhaps bears more closely on the general object of the present 
volume, as it has undeniably grown in importance during the last 
century or two, and most markedly during the last forty years. It 
is not surprising then that Mr. Parker, in the latter part of his 
historical sketch, should dwell on it almost exclusively, feeling, as 
he doubtless does, that during the period in question the course of 
home administration has depended a good deal, though perhaps not 
as much as it might have done, on considerations of foreign policy. 
Still, it would have been interesting to hear what the history of 
classical education in English schools and universities has actually 
been; whether Eton has always cultivated Latin verses with 
success ; how Greek scholarship was introduced from Cambridge into 
Shrewsbury, and returned with interest by Shrewsbury to Cambridge ; 
what classical teaching in the Universities was like in the pre-examina- 
tion period ; and a number of other particulars, without which we 
can hardly be said to know how we came to be what we are. But 
the question after all is not whether we are told as much as we 
should have asked, but whether the narrator has told us what could 
best be comprised in the limited space assigned to him ; and on this 
point I have no desire to break a lance with Mr. Parker. Most 
readers, I believe, will find much that he tells them both new and 
interesting, and will be grateful to him for the clear, pleasant, and 
unaffected style in which his facts are communicated. 

There is more true discussion in Mr. Sidgwick's essay than in any 
of the others. He has decided views, but on the whole he cannot 
be said to write like an advocate ; and he is always thoughtful and 
suggestive. The examination to which he subjects the different 
defences that have been set up for the present classical system is 
searching, and rarely unjust. No doubt the advantages of Latin 
and Greek, as at present studied, have frequently been represented 
in far too sweeping language. Yet, if the defenders of the classics 
would amend their plea, and contend not that theirs is the only 
training which will realize the objects they have in view, but that 
it wftl realize them sufficiently, I do not see why they should not still 
stand their ground. And I think Mr. Sidgwick is inclined to be 
too exacting in demanding a precise apportionment of means to ends. 
When he says, " Teaching the art of rhetoric by means of transla- 
tion only is like teaching a man to climb trees in order that he 

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A Liberal Education. 5 

may be an elegant dancer," his metaphor seems to me rather to run 
away with him. Mental training is not like bodily training : the 
muscles of the mind are eminently sympathetic, and care bestowed 
on one will often act immediately upon another. Besides, no 
one supposes that a boy who is taught to translate will have his 
rhetorical faculty insulated to that one point. He will read some 
English at any rate for himself, and the sharpening of his perceptions 
by translation will enable him to read it profitably ; and his tutor 
will probably advise him, even for the sake of translation, to try to 
catch the peculiarities of different English styles. So again, when 
Mr. Sidgwick, correcting Dr. Moberly, says that " each language 
requires its own art of rhetoric," he says what is true in itself, but 
for the purpose of the argument is only a refinement. Dr. Moberly 
probably means littlo more than Mr. Sidgwick has just admitted, 
that to master one style is a very great help to mastering another. 
It is not necessary to maintain that Latin is a unique skeleton key 
to language generally ; all that requires to be shown is that one or 
two languages must be selected from the rest to act, as almost any 
literary language may act, as skeleton keys, and that there are special 
reasons for choosing Latin. Generally, I suppose, the argument 
for teaching the classical languages may be said to stand thus. 
It may be considered as granted — Mr. Sidgwick, at any rate, grants 
it — that both language and literature are important studies. To 
master either completely, it would no doubt be necessary to know 
many languages and many literatures ; but, practically, some choice 
must be made. There are several candidates awaiting the selection ; 
and speaking roughly, any one of them will give the linguistic and 
literary training required. Thus the advantages belonging to the 
study of language and literature belong implicitly to the study of 
Latin and Greek, and it would probably be an interminable busi- 
ness to discuss the question, of more or less. What then are the 
reasons for preferring the classical languages where so many are 
equal ? Mainly these : they are past, and they have exercised an 
enormous influence on the present. It may seem a paradox to prefer 
a dead to a living language, or a dead to a living literature, ceteris 
paribus; but the cause is not far to seek. Living languages and 
books written in them can take care of themselves : if they are worth 
studying, they are sure to be studied sooner or later. They lie about 
us : if we leave our own country, we come at once into contact with 
them : we can attain them, if we please, without schooling. But 
dead languages, if not learnt at school, will not be learnt at all, 
except by a mere handful of students : they are remote from us, and 
if the tradition of them is not kept up, the knowledge of them will 
be virtually extinguished. This is a ground for preference which 
every dead language has ; but Greek and Latin have more. They 

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6 c Ihe Contemporary Review. 

are the only two languages possessing a literature which are in- 
separably entwined with ancient history, the only two which have 
profoundly influenced the life and genius of times far distant from 
their own. Hebrew is excluded by its particular circumstances : 
Sanskrit, the only other ancient language possessing a great litera- 
ture, if it has influenced the history of later times, has, at all events, 
not influenced their historical consciousness. The student of Greek 
and Latin gains, in fact, one of the chief advantages which are 
gained from the study of history : I do not mean that he acquires a 
knowledge of events, though he does incidentally pick up some 
knowledge even of them, but that he realizes the fact that there is a 
past to the world's history, that there have been states of society as 
cultivated as our own, but essentially different. " I know not how 
it is," says Mr. Matthew Arnold, " but their commerce with the 
ancients appears to me to produce, on those who constantly practise 
it, a steadying and composing effect on their judgment, not of literary 
works only, but of men and events in general." And, if we may 
pass for a moment from school, there can be no doubt that the pro- 
fessed scholar's work is essentially historical : in discovering the 
meaning of a word, or appreciating the genius of an author, he has to 
go through precisely the same processes that are practised by the 
historian who wishes to ascertain the reality or estimate the signifi- 
cance of an event. This is surely a great combination of advantages, 
for which it would be difficult (I do not say impossible) to find a 
parallel in any other study. "Yes," replies Mr. Sidgwick, "but 
though your training has many elements, each element is not (at 
any rate, taken alone) the best thing of its kind, or the thing we most 
want." Here, as I have said before, he seems to me too exacting, 
too refining : besides, the words included in his parenthesis open a 
question which is too important to be passed over so summarily. 
These elements are not alone ; they are combined in one and the 
same study ; and surely that is another advantage. Boys, so far as 
my recollection serves me, are not creatures of very intellectual 
interests : if they can excel in one or two things, it is about as much 
as you can hope. It might be well to make them encyclopaedic : it 
is more practicable, as it seems to me, so to educate them that one 
study shall do the work of many. 

On some of Mr. Sidgwick's special points, the necessity of a know- 
ledge of natural science, the uselessness of verse composition, I shall 
have a word to say when I come to other essayists, who press them 
more at length. But there is one of his reforms which requires 
special notice — the postponement of the study of Greek. He thinks 
that "if Latin (along with French and English) was carefully taught 
up to the age of sixteen, speaking roughly, a grasp of Greek, suffi- 

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A Liberal 'Education. j 

dent for literary purposes, might be attained afterwards much more 
easily than is supposed." Now I do not say that there may not be 
a large number of boys who had better not learn Greek at all ; all I 
wish is to guard against the seductive promise of that word " post- 
ponement." A dead language which is not learnt till the age of 
sixteen will, I fear, as a general rule, not be learnt at all. There is 
something in the mastering of grammar and dictionary difficulties 
which naturally belongs to the earliest stages of instruction, when 
learning is more or less compulsory. A boy who is conscious of 
making real progress in one or two languages (I speak from my own 
school experience) will be the very person to resent most the drudgery 
of having to carry cm, pari passu, the low, childish task- work of another 
tongue. And if this is true of any language, it is true of Greek in 
a very high degree. The mere strangeness of the character has 
something repellent in it, so that even one who can read Greek pretty 
fluently (I speak not merely of what I felt as a boy, but of what I 
feel to this day) will often prefer, in reading an unfamiliar author, 
to read him with the help of a Latin translation. Then, again, the 
fact, noticed by Mr. Sidgwick in another connexion, that Greek has 
influenced modern languages so little, renders it specially difficult, 
and by consequence specially repulsive. Who that has groaned under 
the unfamiliarity of the German prefixes an and mit, uber and unter, 
ver and zer, the force of which it requires such an effort to calculate 
beforehand, can doubt what annoyance a clever boy of sixteen would 
feel in constantly having to turn to his lexicon to satisfy himself 
about the effect of dro, Kara, pcrd, and napd in composition P Alto- 
gether, I believe that there are few studies which it would be so easy 
to lose as that of Greek, few which it would be so hard to regain. 
What England would be if the knowledge of Greek were to fall into 
comparative desuetude, those whose experience has familiarized them 
from boyhood with the effect of the two studies combined can scarcely 
undertake to prophesy. Perhaps those who know less of England 
and more of France and Italy will find the prediction easier. 

In what I have said, as in what I shall say hereafter, I am anxious 
not to derogate in any way from the advantages of other studies to 
those whose circumstances or natural bent may happen to point in a 
different direction. My case is simply that classics, as at present 
taught, have a locus standi; and that case, so limited, I do not think 
Mr. Sidgwick's arguments disprove. 

Professor Seeley is less suggestive and less judicial than Mr. Sidg- 
wick, but he is very interesting nevertheless. His complaint is that 
University education is becoming more and more mere training for ex- 
amination : he wishes to see a more genial and natural love of learning 
for its own sake. This he thinks might exist if the examination 

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8 The Contemporary Review. 

were not made, as it is now, the central point of the system. A 
learned class, he contends, may also be a class of teachers. England, 
centuries ago, was known as the mother of ideas, and there is no 
reason why she should not be so again. Many University men 
would doubtless echo his aspirations, if only they could see any 
means of converting them into realities. His own suggestions are 
three, though he intimates that they do not exhaust the requirements 
of the case : the opening of College Fellowships in Cambridge to the 
whole University ; the re-organization of the teaching system so that 
tutors should lecture not to men of their own college alone, but to all 
comers, and, in consequence, should be able to concentrate themselves 
on some particular study ; and the arrangement of the names in each 
class of every tripos, not by merit, but alphabetically. Unfortunately 
we in Oxford have two of Mr. Seeley's remedies, the first and the 
third, in full work as part of our institutions, and yet we are still, in 
the main, a University of examiners and examinees. The second is 
desired by many of us, and may not improbably be established before 
long in some form or other, if indeed it may not be said to be par- 
tially existing already ; but I fear that, even then, we shall be a long 
way from the goal to which Mr. Seeley looks forward. Many other 
things would have to be brought about before the Universities could 
become really learned bodies. The question of passmen is academi- 
cally what the question of a proletariat is socially and politically : as 
long as it is left unsolved, it is an open wound. The college system, 
valuable if not invaluable for purposes of discipline, tends directly to 
discourage learning ; the wealth of the colleges makes them impor- 
tant, so that their heads form a social aristocracy ; and yet a head of 
a college is not necessarily a learned man. Tet it can hardly be 
said that the Universities in this respect do not faithfully represent 
the feeling of the country, nor does it seem likely that any legislative 
reform in Parliament, be it what it may, will give us an aristocracy 
of teachers. 

On the subject of Mr. Bowen's essay, the desirability of teaching 
language to boys without grammar, I have no opinion to offer which 
would be of any value. It is a practical question to be solved by 
those who have had practical experience. In what he says about 
grammar itself, his assertions seem to me far too sweeping and un- 
qualified. The laws of language are not frilly contained in grammar 
rules, but grammar rules are useful nevertheless to give form and 
stability to knowledge which would otherwise be vague and fluc- 
tuating. It is next to impossible that a boy should read enough to 
make his feeling for language a sufficient guide. Nor is it, I venture 
to maintain, any impeachment of the utility of grammar (though 
Mr. Lowe, in his recent Edinburgh address, appears to agree with 

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A Uberal ^Education. 9 

Mr. Bowen in thinking so), that it was not known at all by the oldest 
of the classical writers, and only imperfectly known by the later. 
I do not see why a grammar- writer needs to be " confounded by the 
circumstance that Euripides wrote excellent Greek without having 
heard of an optative mood/' when he reflects that there is an optative 
mood nevertheless, and that those for whom he writes are not, like 
Euripides, unconsciously speaking a living language, but consciously 
learning a dead one. Here I am happy to believe that I may claim 
the support of Mr. Sidgwick, who evidently thinks it unreasonable 
when a French writer attacks grammarians for introducing refine- 
ments which Bossuet never knew, " as if Virgil ever thought of a 
tertiary predicate, or Thucydides of the peculiar use of 5™s /«/" 
Mr. Bowen, however, is disposed to go further, and to question the 
value of those qualifications which make up what is called " a beau- 
tiful scholar." I will not follow him there : the passage is too long 
to quote, and it is so rhetorically and (Mr. Bowen must forgive me 
when I say) intemperately written, that it would be scarcely just to 
an essay which is in many respects an interesting one to bring it 
into prominence. I will only notice one matter of fact about which 
Mr. Bowen's language might lead an incautious reader to form a 
wrong impression. The writers of dictionaries and grammars, he 
says, are sure to attack a man of ability and conviction who, in ex-* 
pressing himself on subjects of public importance, shows ignorance of 
the classics. " A man of classical education, we shall hear, would 
never have spoken of the ' works' of Thucydides." The allusion, of 
course, is to a speech made by Mr. Cobden some fifteen or sixteen 
years ago, in which he was reported to have said that, to an English- 
man of the present day, there was more to be gained from a single 
number of the Times than from the whole of the historical works of 
Thucydides. Probably too much was made of this lapse at the time 
when it was committed ; and no one, of course, would now dream of 
quoting it disparagingly against a great man. But the point was 
this : Mr. Cobden was not borrowing an illustration from the classics ; 
he was depreciating them, as many thought, rashly and unjustly ; 
and therefore it was fair argument, as it was certainly tempting, to 
point out that the very form of his depreciation showed that he could 
know but little of what he was depreciating. A living great man 
was made the object of criticism, but he had provoked it by criticizing 
a dead one. 

It is not easy to discover whether one who, like myself, believes 
in Greek and Latin verse as a training for some boys, but quite 
admits that there are others to whom it is unsuitable, has any ground 
of controversy with Mr. Farrar. He apologizes to classical scholars, 
who may have the leisure and the inclination for such pursuits, for 

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io . The Contemporary Review. 

any strong language which he may use about their favourite relaxa- 
tion, and distinctly asserts that he has in view the case not of the 
brilliant few, but of the mediocre multitude. Yet, on the other hand, 
it appears to me that much that he says is irreconcilable with this 
limitation, and can only be interpreted on the supposition that his 
hostility to the practice is internecine. He complains that " there 
are learned and able men who still cling to a system of verse- teaching 
which bears to so many minds the stamp of demonstrable absurdity; " 
asks why it is " that no one, either in or out of his senses, ever thinks 
of learning any other language by a similar process ; " " cannot admit 
that it teaches style even to a handful who become good scholars ;" 
" deliberately and determinately repeats that in this elegant trifling 
success is often more deplorable than failure ; " appeals to periods in 
history where successful cultivation of style produced frivolity and 
feebleness of intellect ; and ends by saying that " we require the 
knowledge of things, and not of wards; of the truths which great men 
have to tell us, and not of the tricks or individualities of their style ; 
of that which shall add to the treasures of human knowledge, not of 
that which shall flatter its fastidiousness by frivolous attempts at 
reproducing its past elegancies of speech ; of that which is best for 
human souls, and which shall make them greater, wiser, better, not 
of that which is idly supposed to make them more tasteful and re- 
fined." These sentences (and no one who has read the essay will say 
that they misrepresent its spirit) surely apply not to the indiscrimi- 
nate teaching of Latin and Greek verses, but to the teaching of them 
at all. To attempt to qualify them by interpolating in each of them, 
" except in the case of the brilliant few," would be not to explain, 
but to destroy their meaning. In fact, Mr. Farrar seems to have 
made a promise which he has found himself unable to keep : he has 
undertaken to respect the liberty of a selected few ; but when he 
comes to introduce his reasonings, he finds them so clamorous and so 
cogent, that he is compelled to abandon even these privileged persons 
to their tender mercies, and to proclaim a war of extermination. 

I must then accept Mr. Farrar's challenge, which has indeed 
already been given by Mr. Sidgwick, and declare that, whether in or 
out of my senses, I should be prepared to recommend the practice of 
verse- writing as a means of acquiring other languages, if they should 
have to be taught under the circumstances under which Latin and 
Greek are now taught at schools. We take Latin and Greek (whether 
rightly or wrongly is not now the question) as typical languages, and 
apply to them a minuteness of study which we cannot afford to apply 
to others ; and part of this minute study is the practice of verse- 
composition. And we choose verse-composition in particular, because 
as a matter of fact we find that verse-composition is suited to the 

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A Liberal Education. 1 1 

capacities of young boys. Mr. Johnson, in a later essay, has done 
me the honour to refer with approval to an opinion which I expressed 
to the Public School Commissioners, to the effect that whereas a verse 
is within the grasp of a boy's understanding, a prose sentence is to 
him an impenetrable mystery. This was grounded on my vivid 
recollection of my own school days, and also on the experience of 
some years at Oxford, during which pupils were constantly bringing 
me composition in verse and prose. I have often amused myself by 
paralleling individuals with nations, and noticing this comparatively 
late appreciation of the capabilities of prose as a fact in literature, as 
I had already observed it as a fact in my own development. Homer 
writes poetical narrative when history is still unknown in Greece ; 
Hesiod versifies didactics when there are no prose treatises on agri- 
culture. But further, I believe that a man (under favour of Mr. Mill 
as well as of the two essayists) will appreciate the artistic part of 
poetry better if he writes verses himself. Here, again, I am stating 
what seems to me to be a conclusion from my own experience in the 
matter of English. It may or may not be worth while to cultivate 
the habit, but I cannot admit that it fails of its object. As to the 
extreme cases which Mr. Farrar mentions, boys saturating themselves 
with Ovid in order to write elegiacs, no one is concerned to defend 
them. It is not desirable to be thoroughly imbued with Latin erotic 
poetry ; but neither is it necessary. A literary police, I readily grant, 
is needed for scholars, as it is for other people. But to talk broadly 
about " a finical fine-ladyism of the intellect ... an exotic which 
flourishes most luxuriantly in the thin artificial soil of vain and 
second-rate minds . . . the enthronement of conventionality, the 
apotheosis of self-satisfaction," as the kind of taste which Greek and 
Latin verse-writing tends to foster, is to talk unwarrantably and 
extravagantly. Such denunciations aggravate the mischief against 
which they are directed ; they drive opponents into a defying and 
polemical attitude, and prevent them from candidly admitting that 
there are dangers in their study against which they, as sensible men, 
would wish to be on their guard. 

I have not grappled with Mr. Farrar's argument from authority. 
My desire has been to record my own individual conviction, and so 
I have brought no compurgators with me, past or present. Yet I 
cannot help hoping that I might find some if it were necessary, 
though of course it is true that there are great names on the other 
side. Meanwhile, I think the moderate advocates of verse-compo- 
sition may find some reason for reassuring themselves in the very 
violence of the storm which seems now to be setting in against them. 
Doubtless their party has in its time used expressions of unwarranted 
contempt in speaking of studies of a different kind ; and it is no 

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more than retribution that they should " hear themselves as many- 
things as they have said of others.' 9 But Nemesis is just, and a 
limit must exist somewhere. There cannot be much more to be 
said against their study, and then, perhaps, the tide will turn. 

I now come to an essay which I have read in some respects with 
more interest than any other in the volume, I mean Mr. Wilson's. 
It may not be as thoughtful as one or two others, but it is decidedly 
the most inspiring. The gem of the whole paper is contained in a 
few pages, where he gives an account of his own method of teaching 
botany to a class of boys by what he truly calls a maieutic process, 
drawing out intelligence before communicating knowledge, and only 
imparting formulas where the pupil's mind has come absolutely to 
yearn for some principle under which to combine its facts. Even 
those who are ignorant of natural science must feel, on reading these 
pages, that they are in the presence of a really eminent teacher, who 
could hardly fail to exercise a powerful influence on any mind of 
decent capacity with which he might be brought into contact. 
Perhaps I may be allowed to mention the effect which their perusal 
had on myself. It did not make me feel that natural science ought 
to be taught in schools less restrictedly than it is ; that I was already 
prepared to concede. It did not make me feel that natural science 
ought to be made a part of every boy's education ; that I fear I shall 
always be disposed to question. But it set me thinking whether the 
method employed so successfully in teaching natural science might 
not be applied to other things in which I happen to be more in- 
terested — whether Mr. Bowen's view of teaching language without 
grammar, to which I was not previously inclined, might not have 
some portion of truth in it. 

What more I have to say must, unhappily, be confined to the 
point on which I differ from Mr. Wilson, the necessity of compelling 
all boys to undergo a course of scientific instruction. I believe to a 
considerable extent in what Mr. Wilson " holds to be a pestilent 
heresy," — " a theory of education in which boys should learn nothing 
but what they show a taste for." I should not myself put it quite so 
nakedly ; and I should be ready to have my theory modified (which 
does not mean set aside) by the practical experience of school- 
masters. What I think then is, that boys who have a decided taste 
for any intellectual study recognised as forming a part of school 
education ought to be allowed to indulge it, to the total neglect of 
some studies, and the partial neglect of others. The Platonic 
Socrates lays down (whether he is always consistent with himself on 
this, any more than on other subjects, I really do not know) that 
" no trace of slavery ought to mix with the studies of the free-born 
man ; for the continual performance of bodily labour does, it is true, 

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A Liberal Education. 1 3 

exert no evil influence upon the body ; but, In the case of the mind, 
no study, pursued under compulsion, remains rooted in the 
memory."* Probably many instances might be quoted to disprove 
this last statement ; but I am sure there is a great deal of truth in 
it. "Male parta male dilabuntur : " what we take no interest in 
learning we are commonly glad to forget. The real thing, it seems 
to me, is to strengthen the love of knowledge where it exists, and 
lead it on continually to fresh acquirements, seeking corrections for 
one-sidedness where I believe they may generally be found, in ever 
widening and deepening views of the study itself. There will 
always be out-lying subjects to which the student will have some 
affinity, and these he may easily be led to pick up : a boy with 
classical tastes, e.g., will, as a general rule, with a little encourage- 
ment, take kindly to English literature. On the other hand, there 
will be studies to which a boy of this kind will be apt to feel a natural 
repugnance ; witness what I may almost call the hereditary feud 
between classics and mathematics. I do not say that it may not be 
possible, by a long and elaborate course of training, to soften these 
antipathies ; I do not say that it may not be in some cases desirable 
to do so ; but after all, some choice must be made, and there are many 
things of which the majority of cultivated men must, each in his 
own sphere, be content to remain in ignorance. I am ready to in- 
clude Latin and Greek among these, as regards one type of men, 
destined to one course in life. I do not see why I may not include 
natural science as regards another. One class need not know the 
Greek name for the liver, or the Latin for the spleen ; another class 
need not know where the liver or the spleen is, unless, unhappily, 
the information should be brought home to them in a practical shape. 
Some physical facts the literary man will require for the conduct of 
ordinary life, and he will get them ; some facts about antiquity the 
scientific man will require in order to understand the condition of 
things about him, and he also will get them. For these purposes, as 
well as for purposes of social intercourse, the broad sheet of the 
Times newspaper will supply sufficient common ground. For pur- 
poses of mental culture, apart from professional exigences, each will 
find ample means of refreshment in his own and cognate studies. 

But it is said that classical men need a scientific education. Mr. 
Parker tells us that men of science make the complaint which Erasmus 
made of the scholars of his day : " Incredibile quam nihil intelligat 
litteratorum vulgus." Mr. Fataday, to a paper of whose he refers, 
spoke strongly to the Public School Commissioners of the delusions 
entertained by cultivated persons on matters of which no one can be 
a judge without having had a scientific training. " Up to this very 
* Plato, " Republic," book vii. p. 536 (Daviea and Vaughan's translation). 

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day there come to me persons of good education, men and women 
quite fit for all that you expect from education ; they come to me, 
and they talk to me about things that belong to natural science, 
about mesmerism, table-turning, flying through the air, about the 
laws of gravity ; they come to me to ask me questions, and they 
insist against me, who think I know a little of those laws, that I am 
wrong and they are right, in a manner which shows how little the 
ordinary course of education has taught such minds." No one will 
defend these injudicious querists, who go to consult the oracle and 
then argue against the response given ; though I suppose it might 
be asked whether their belief in their illusions is likely to have done 
them much harm, apart from leading them, as it apparently did, to 
violate good taste. But I will meet the complaint with a counter bit of 
experience. In 1853, not long after table-turning came into vogue, 
I was acquainted with a person who had no scientific knowledge, but 
occupied himself chiefly with the study of Greek plays. He heard of 
table-turning, and became rather interested in it. He tried it him- 
self in a miniature form, which at that time was fashionable among 
beginners, the turning of a hat. The hat turned readily. He had 
endeavoured to observe his own movements while the process was 
going on, but found that the very act of thinking of his fingers' ends 
gave him a sensation as if his fingers' ends did not belong to him, so 
that he could not tell whether they were imparting any motion to the 
hat, much less whether the fingers' ends of his neighbours were im- 
parting any. He resolved to suspend his judgment until some 
physical philosopher should speak. In two or three weeks one did 
speak, and that was Mr. Faraday himself, in a well-known letter to 
the Times. My friend was satisfied, and troubled himself very little 
about table-turning afterwards. What led him to so sane a conclu- 
sion ? It was simply that he was just then beginning to take a firm 
hold of his own subject, and, in consequence, to understand the 
authority which special knowledge imparts to its possessor. 

But, granting that it is possible for non-scientific persons to avoid 
forming or propounding rash judgments on scientific subjects by 
attending to the simple rule of minding one's own business, is there 
nothing of importance to all educated men, to appreciate which a 
knowledge of science is absolutely necessary ? My readers will have 
anticipated that I am going to speak of a matter far graver than 
any I have touched on yet, the issue now pending between science 
and revelation. Mr. Parker presses this point in a few words ; Mr. 
Wilson more at length. The latter thinks that no one can meet the 
question properly in whose mind religious and scientific ideas have 
not been allowed to grow up side by side. Now, it is important at 
starting to ascertain to whom or what the duty of coming to a con- 

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A Liberal 'Education. 1 5 

elusion on this question is owing. Is it to religion or to science P 
Clearly to the former. I do not say that we have no duties to 
science : we all of us have duties to it ; those who are led to it by 
natural bent or circumstances are bound to cultivate it ; those who 
are not so led are bound to treat it with respect, and to refrain from 
rash and ignorant comments on it. But that belongs to the part of 
the argument with which we have been engaged for the last page or 
two, not to the part which we are now considering. The new claim 
advanced for science rests on another duty, our duty to religion. 
Science and religion are in apparent conflict, and therefore it con- 
cerns all religious men to entertain some opinion on a struggle which 
may affect religion. It is a question whether we are all bound to be 
scientific ; there is no question, among those with whom I desire to 
class myself, that we are all bound to be religious. I am not advo- 
cating any sectarian view; I admit freely that all truth comes 
from God, and that religion may be injured, not merely by questioners 
who start difficulties, but by answerers who ignore them. I am only 
anxious to put the matter, as regards those who recognise religion, 
on its true basis. "What we have to inquire, then, is, how may our 
duty to religion in this matter be satisfied P Is it due to religion 
that all those of us who are capable of acquainting themselves with 
scientific truth should try to do so P Let us consider what the points at 
issue between science and religion are. Two of those most promi- 
nently canvassed are \he truth of the Mosaic account of the creation, 
and the credibility of the Gospel miracles. Would the breach that 
exists with regard to mattera like these be healed by a general diffusion 
of scientific knowledge? Some have thought that a profounder 
investigation of science would remove the apparent contradictions 
which now trouble so many minds. It may be so ; but is this likely 
to result from a more general diffusion of scientific education P If it 
is necessary to dig deeper than the science of the present day, will 
not such digging be carried on by the few rather than by the many P 
On the other hand, might not there be a danger, if science were more 
diffused among educated men, that those who are zealous for religion 
would broach superficial theories of reconciliation or confutation, 
such as readily commend themselves to partial knowledge, while 
they could not have occurred to honest ignorance? Surely the 
present aspect of the controversy tends to show that men require, for 
their own peace, at any rate, not instruction in natural science, but 
views drawn from a philosophy of another kind ; views which, while 
accepting the statements of science, if need be, at its own estimate, 
shall suggest other considerations unknown to science, and produce 
in the mind, not, perhaps, intellectual satisfaction, but at any rate a 
contented acquiescence in imperfect lights, as a condition at once 

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warranted by fact and recommended by analogy. If , as I believe, 
our conclusion must be, as religious men alive to the controversies of 
our time, that while, on the one hand, there are many unsolved diffi- 
culties, on the other there are realities lying beyond the range of 
those difficulties, why are we bound to engrave the difficulties deeply 
on our minds, so that, turn where we will, they may always confront 
us P Why is it necessary that every cultivated man should be able 
to appreciate from his own experience the full strength of the 
resistance which scientific habits of mind oppose to the reception of a 
theory of supernatural interference P No one pretends that the dis- 
pute is really to be decided on that issue ; it is merely one of various 
elements in the question ; and till all cultivated men are so educated as 
to appreciate all the elements of the question thoroughly, it is worse 
than vain, it is mischievous, to press on religious grounds the claims 
of any single element to special study. No doubt the study of evi- 
dences is the proper work of the ablest of the clergy, and of such of 
the laity who feel that from circumstances they are best able in that 
way to serve their generation ; but it should be a really thorough 
study, neither one-sided nor superficial. What others have to do is, 
not to solve the problem for the world, but to appreciate its condi- 
tions, which will be one way of solving it for themselves. 

After all, I fear Mr. Wilson will still be unconvinced. He will 
not allow literary men to argue from their own mental experience 
that they do not need a scientific training ; and that, I am afraid, is at 
bottom die argument which is really powerful with all of us. I will 
only entreat him to believe that, though a literary student may not 
use his faculty of natural observation when he is out of doors, his 
mind is not necessarily idle or unoccupied ; he may have thoughts 
which are worth having in themselves, and which he could not have 
if his attention were otherwise engaged. 

The three remaining* essays need not detain us so long. The 
matters for controversy which they open have been partially antici- 
pated ; and generally they may be said to be less controversial than 
most of their predecessors. Two of them, moreover, are compara- 
tively short, those by Mr. Hales and Lord Houghton. Lord 
Houghton's acts as a sort of Penvoy, not going into detail, but 
enforcing the general doctrine of making education more modern on 
social grounds. Like everything which comes from him, it is 
elegantly and gracefully written, and, standing as it does at the end 
of the list, it enables us to close the volume with a sense of artistic 
finish. Mr. Hales, on the other hand, devotes himself to a special 
point, the teaching of English in schools, which he thinks ought to 
be made the basis of all other linguistic and literary training. Mr. 
Sidgwick had already pressed the same thing, though I am not sure 

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A Liberal Education. 1 7 

whether he would entirely agree with Mr. Hales on all matters of 
detail. Their view would have my warm sympathy if I could be 
quite sure of its feasibility. No one will deny that a knowledge of 
the English language and literature is an essential part of the 
literary training of an Englishman. Other modern languages he 
may neglect with more or less of impunity ; but to neglect his own 
would be absolutely suicidal. The only question is whether room can 
be found for it in the classical part of the present school curriculum. 
I am assuming that Greek and Latin are to be retained as portions 
of the early training of boys educated in that department ; and I 
should be inclined to add to them German, for the reason which I 
hinted in a former page, that, while it is all-important as a key to 
modern learning, it is comparatively difficult to pick up later, and 
therefore ought, I think, to be mastered in those early years which 
are naturally associated with intellectual drudgery; With three 
languages on hand, I confess I doubt whether even a clever boy 
would find room for the systematic study of a fourth, even though 
that fourth be his own. On the other hand, knowledge of English 
can always be picked up : a boy's ignorance of his own language is 
not that kind of ignorance which offers resistance to the acquirement 
of knowledge, and much may be done without direct teaching to 
make a clever boy a good English scholar. Let me say, by the way, 
that I scarcely agree with Mr. Sidgwick when he declares that he 
wishes the "occasional and irregular training " which boys now get 
" to be made as general and systematic as possible." One of the 
complaints against the increasing exactingness of modern education 
is, that it allows boys no time for reading. Doubtless, now that 
athletic tastes have become so absorbing, masters may be jealous of 
leaving more leisure than necessary at a boy's disposal ; yet I think 
most would feel it to be a pity that a pupil should receive the whole 
of his intellectual impressions through the medium of his form- 
master or his private tutor. That English should be taught to those 
whose training is not intended to be classical, I readily admit ; and 
if in a bifurcated school any crumbs from the well-furnished table in 
the modern department could be made to fall to the classical boys 
without entailing the necessity of their sitting through every meal, 
it would be a real point gained. While I am on the subject I may 
note that the absence of any Professor of English is one of the most 
patent wants of the English Universities. An Anglo-Saxon chair 
may throw light on the " divine fore-time " of the language ; a 
Poetry chair may do something for parts of the literature ; but a 
more systematic cultivation of the subject is needed, and it is a 
discredit that Oxford and Cambridge should make no attempt to 
supply it. 

vol. VII. c 

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Mr. Johnson's essay comes near Mr. Sidgwiek's for suggestiveness 
and thought, if it is not quite equal to it. Perhaps its effect is 
injured to some extent by the form into which a good deal of it is 
thrown. There is an autobiographical element in it ; it professes to 
record the writer's experiences as a schoolmaster ; and this is not 
unfrequently done in a tone of cynical self-depreciation. The result 
is that, though we have much light, the light is not always quite dry. 
The same vein of individuality appears occasionally in the illustra- 
tions with which he sets forth his arguments. Like most of his 
colleagues in this volume, he pleads for physical science ; and one of 
the considerations he advances is the value which the classical writers 
whom we admire attached to the study. " It is painful to enumerate 
all that we leave unnoticed ; the * natural questions ' which a Seneca 
would have asked, which we, the distant heirs of Seneca, either 
alight or dread. We force our pupils to say in Latin verse, that 
sounds to me almost as the voice of the Fairy Queen summoning the 
rhymer, ' Happy is he who hath been able to learn the causes of 
things, why the earth trembles, and the deep seas gape ;' and yet we 
are not to tell them. Virgil humbly grieved, but we grieve not, 
that we cannot reach these realms of wonder. . . . What would 
Lucretius have thought of men who knew, or might know, such 
things, and were afraid to tell the young of them, for fear of spoiling 
their perception of his peculiarities ? How would Ovid flout at us 
if he heard that we could unfold the boundless mysteries contained 
m his germinal saying, ' All things change, nothing perishes,' and 
passed them by to potter over his little ingenuities ! " Surely it 
is misleading to talk in this way of the ancients, as though their 
circumstances were precisely the same as our own. Knowledge was 
in their days far less extensive and multifarious than it is now, and 
the principle of a division of studies was in consequence much less 
recognised. An ancient student was necessarily more ambitious in his 
range of inquiry than a modern student either can or ought to be. 
Then there are special circumstances attaching to each of the different 
writers named. It is difficult to understand why we are bound to 
follow in the steps of Seneca ; he is not one of the authors who have 
nade our knowledge of classical literature what it is to us ; and the 
mere fact that he writes in Latin and was encyclopaedic is hardly 
a reason why those who read Latin should be encyclopaedic also. 
Virgil, if I read him rightly, did not so much wish to be a natural 
philosopher, which he might have been, as to be the poet of natural 
philosophy ; nor is it clear, even so, what his wish means. It may be 
a graceful way of deprecating comparison with Lucretius, to whom 
the whole passage is an allusion ; it may be a despairing aspiration 
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A Liberal Education. 1 9 

or disbelief. As for Lucretius, the " nature of things " had a terrible 
reality to him ; his creed was bound up with his physical theory. 
It would certainly be strange if any one should read through his 
poem for the sake of noting his peculiarities without attempting to 
understand his philosophy ; bat is this often done ? My own experi- 
ence would lead me to think that hardly any who are not prepared 
to enter into his philosophy read him continuously, and that 
those who wish to observe his peculiarities as a writer read only 
certain parts of his poem, those, namely, which contain least of 
natural science. Ovid's case is diametrically opposite : whatever 
he may have thought of his " germinal saying," it is in no sense a 
sample of his poetry ; and those who, instead of trying to develop 
its meaning, devote their time to his prettinesses of expression, do 
no more than he apparently wished them to do. Is a reader of 
Pope's "Essay on Man" bound to study the philosophy, which 
is probably second-hand as well as second-rate, rather than the 
diction and versification, which are really what give the poem its 
character ? But I must not follow Mr. Johnson further into details, 
though I should have liked to put him on his defence for his 
statement that " the monstrous fatuities which disfigure JEschylus 
are condemned by the clear head of an Aristophanes, and can be 
proved to be bad ; " an unmeasured way of talking, from which even 
Mr. Sidgwick is not quite free. A dissection of an illustration 
takes up more room than the illustration itself; and the more an 
essayist has to say, the more a reviewer is obliged to say in answer- 
ing him. I will only add, then, briefly, that I cordially agree with 
Mr. Johnson's object, the education of the reasoning faculties of 
boys, and think that he has been very successful in showing in how 
many ways it may be done without outstepping the ordinary limits 
of a classical and literary training. To his plan of teaching French 
systematically to his classical pupils I incline to demur, for the 
reason I gave a page or two back in speaking of Mr. Hales's essay. 
Three languages seem to me the utmost that a boy can profitably 
pursue at once ; and French is not, like German, a language which 
it is difficult to acquire at a later period. 

I should be sorry if it were supposed that I wished the foregoing 
pages to be accepted as an adequate examination of the contents 
of this volume. To examine it thoroughly would require a volume 
of at least twice its bulk, and a writer far more versed in educational 
questions than I am. All that I have attempted to do is to follow 
the example of the Parliamentary orator (was it Mr. Cobden P) who 
said it was his habit to step out and join the debate when he saw it 
coming by his door. The thread which runs through my criticism 
is, as I have said already, a belief that the question before us is not 


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20 The Contemporary Review. 

how to frame a new theory of liberal education which shall supersede 
the old, but how to construct a system which shall give scope for 
different theories, adapted to different circumstances. We are not 
likely to convince each other ; we have no right to silence or ignore 
each other ; it remains that we should tolerate each other. How a 
toleration may best be organized is a question which I leave to those 
who are more accustomed to grapple with details. The adoption of 
bifurcation in all our larger schools would seem to be a natural 
way of meeting the want in its earlier stages : to satisfy it in a 
later period it would probably be necessary that the Universities 
should recognise from the first that distinction of studies which is 
now conceded, sparingly and with hesitation, in the latter part of 
an academical career. 

John Conthgton. 

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ROME is tranquil. The Holy Father, with the aid of the Chasse- 
pot rifle, has "made a solitude and calls it peace." The 
gates of the city are still barricaded by earthworks and stagnant 
ditches. The Piazza del Popolo is encumbered with that ultima 
ratio regum, the black-throated cannon. The parapets of the 
Pincio are surmounted by heavy earth-bags, with loop-holes for 
rifles, and Religion is everywhere armed and in uniform. The people 
are crushed and the priests triumph. The streets are thronged by 
soldiers, nearly all of whom are foreigners, and the Zouaves are 
especially conspicuous, not only by their dress, but by their strutting 
and imperious airs of ownership. Never, within my knowledge, did 
this city look so sad and depressed. There is no life or movement 
anywhere, and even on festal days the Corso is comparatively empty. 
There seems to be a different population in the streets, and the faces 
one sees are dull and dispirited. And no wonder it is so, for the 
Papalini are chiefly visible. The flower of the Roman people lan- 
guishes in prison, or has been driven beyond the gates. Besides 
the prisoners of war and the wounded, no less than 2,000 men are 
under arrest, imprisoned, and awaiting process. How long they will 
wait no one knows, for suspicion is in this place ample warrant for 
detention, and trial comes on according to the whim of the authori- 
ties, at any time, or at no time ; and, worse than this, when trial 

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22 * The Contemporary Review. 

takes place it is little better than a farce. The prisons in Borne are 
now so crowded, that there is no space to lodge any more persons ; 
and it is necessary, when new arrests are made, to send the prisoners 
into the adjacent towns. 

It is impossible to obtain any exact or trustworthy information 
from the public press as to the real history of the late revolution. 
The Osservatore Romano and the Oiornale di Roma do not scruple to 
falsify the known facts, and to misrepresent in the grossest manner 
the wishes of the people and the conduct of the Papal troops. There 
seems however to be little doubt that the Zouaves behaved very 
badly during the invasion of the Garibaldians, and that the state of 
siege in the city was a reign of terror. Even during the day it was 
unsafe to walk the streets, which were thronged by parties of soldiers 
who, on the slightest pretext, and often with no pretext at all, shot 
and bayoneted innocent persons. In repeated instances single men 
were set upon by squads of Zouaves, who, instead of arresting them 
for examination, barbarously wounded or murdered them, upon mere 
suspicion that they might be connected with revolutionary incidents. 
If a bomb was exploded in any piazza, all persons seen near the spot, 
whether drawn by curiosity to a door or window, or seeking shelter 
anywhere, were at once fired at. In the attack made upon one house 
where arms were discovered on one of the floors, and a defence was 
attempted by the band of revolutionists who were gathered there, the 
whole house was ravaged, the furniture of the occupants of all the 
floors destroyed, and every article of any value was stolen. One 
person, well-known to the attacking party as a peaceable man, 
entirely unconnected with any revolutionary designs, had the mis- 
fortune to lodge in an upper floor ; the soldiers broke into his apart- 
ment ; he and his family were protected, and no outrage was com- 
mitted on them, except that he was placed under arrest ; but his 
rooms were plundered, all his money and silver plate, and all the 
jewellery of his wife, were taken ; and the savings of a life of fru- 
gality and toil were lost in an hour. He returned from prison in a 
few days to find himself utterly ruined. Another case was that of 
a servant of the Barberini family, who had the misfortune to be 
passing down a street near by a piazza when a bomb exploded. 
Alarmed by the noise, he sought the nearest refiige, but being seen by 
a party of Zouaves, he was shot down, and then surrounded and 
bayoneted as he lay on the ground. Fortunately, despite his 
wounds, he escaped with his life ; but although there was no evidence 
to show that he was in any way connected with the explosion, he was 
sentenced to death, and only saved by the earnest remonstrances of 
Prince Barberini. 

In still another case, a Zouave having been shot by an unknown 

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Rome at the Close of 1 867. 23 

person at one of the casinos near the Vatican, a party of soldiers 
immediately issued in search of the assassin. The street was empty, 
and finding no one upon whom they could wreak their vengeance, 
they entered an osteria called the " Cecchina," where several persons 
were quietly seated, among whom were three or four old men (two of 
whom were " vecca morti " employed to carry bodies to the grave), a 
woman, and two or three children ; and though there were no grounds 
to suspect these persons of any kind of implication in the crime, or 
even of any knowledge of it, and although no resistance was made, 
they immediately slaughtered the whole of them in cold blood. 
During this period the Zouaves thronged the street with their guns 
loaded and swung on their shoulders ready for instant use, and carry- 
ing loaded and cocked revolvers in their hands, which they used on 
the slightest pretence against innocent persons. 

Incidents like this* were of constant occurrence, and the result was, 
of course, a universal state of terror among the people. Shops were 
only partially opened, and were closed long before sunset ; the 
streets were deserted ; no one could pass out of the gates ; and the 
silence of the people was proclaimed by the newspapers of Rome as 
a proof of their affection for the Papal Government. Doubtless there 
is a large class of persons in Rome whose sympathies are for the 
Pope. The great proportion of the nobility adhere to him and 
uphold the present state of things. Besides these are the employis 
of the Government, who depend upon it for their means of subsist- 
ence, and all those who are connected with the churches and con- 
vents, or are priests or /rati by profession. But the great mass 
of the intelligent citizens of the middle and lower class are not only 
opposed to the Papal Government, but despise it. They long for the 
time when the temporal power shall be overthrown, and Rome 
become the capital of Italy, and the power of the priests be cast 
down. Those who know not the terrorism of these latter days in 
Rome may wonder, if such be the wishes of the majority of the 
people, why it was that a revolution did not take place when the 
Garibaldians were. almost at the gates. But when it is remembered 
that the people were almost entirely without fire-arms, that the city 
was filled with soldiers and spies, that every movement was watched, 
that every person upon whom a shadow of suspicion lay was either 
arrested or under surveillance, that those who had the energy and 
ability to organize and lead a revolution were in prison or exile, that 
no news was allowed to come in, and that the threats of France 
darkened all hopes of ultimate success, the apparent tranquillity of 
the people, interpreted by foreigners into apathy, and proclaimed 
by the Papal Government as a proof of affection, will be seen to 
indicate anything rather than acquiescence in the continuance of the 


24 The Contemporary Review. 

Papal rule, or indifference to Italy. Besides this, it must not be 
forgotten that the policy of Rome since 1848 has been one of 
proscription, exile, and imprisonment of all who were suspected of 
liberal views, so as to deprive the revolution of its most energetic 
leaders and followers. Other influences are also to be considered. 
Desirous as the people were that Italy should enter and take posses- 
sion of Rome, they feared what might be the consequences of a 
sudden revolution when the city was taken by the Garibaldians. 
These fears were not on account of the Garibaldians themselves, but 
of the bands of robbers, the refuse of all Italy, which, driven from 
every quarter, thronged the city, and were ready to take advantage 
of the confusion to commit any kind of outrage. All accounts seem 
to agree that during those days a large number of persons were seen 
in the streets entirely unknown to the Romans, and of an appear- 
ance which was not calculated to inspire confidence. Still the tran- 
quillity of the Romans was only apparent. A revolution was prepared, 
fire-arms had been secretly obtained and hidden, and the a day was 
appointed for the rising. But when the moment came for the out- 
break, and the Romans went to take possession of the arms they had 
secreted, every place where they had been deposited was found to 
be in possession of the Papal troops. The whole plan of operations 
had been betrayed by some traitor, or discovered by some spy and 
revealed to the Government. Notwithstanding this, risings took 
place in various parts of the city. The Romans, unarmed as they 
were, threw themselves upon the patrols, and after drawing their 
fire, fought hand to hand with them and put them to flight. At 
Ara Coeli a fierce encounter took place ; and one band of unarmed 
citizens took possession of the Porta San Paolo and routed the 
Zouaves who guarded it. When, however, it was found that these 
bands were unarmed, strong detachments of troops were everywhere 
brought up in numbers which it was impossible to resist, and thus 
the revolution was crushed. Who the traitor was who revealed the 
plan of operations and pointed out the places where the arms were 
secretly deposited, is not surely known, but suspicion strongly points 
to a certain advocate, De Domenicis, who was the legal adviser of 
the French Legation, and was one of the "Comitate Romano," 
and in the secret counsels of the leaders of the insurrection. It is 
scarcely necessary to add that he sought safety by an immediate 

This attempt at revolution it serves the purpose of the Govern- 
ment to gloss over, in order to support the pretence that the Roman 
people were opposed to the entry of the Garibaldians, and supported 
the Pope. But the fact is, that it was a very serious rising, and 
nothing but the absolute want of arms and the overwhelming force 

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Rome at the Close of \ 867. 25 

of the Papal troops prevented it from being successful. As it was, 
for a time the greatest alarm was felt, and some of the gendarmes 
hesitated whether they should not take the part of the insurrection. 
The plan had been well-arranged, at least six or seven thousand persons 
were pledged to its support, and had it not been betrayed to the Papal 
authorities, so that the insurgents found themselves unarmed, there 
seems to be little doubt that it would have succeeded. Such, at all 
events, as far as I can gather, is the general opinion of both parties 

It is extremely difficult in Rome to obtain any exact information 
of the real facts which have occurred, or to determine which of 
various versions of any incident is the most trustworthy ; but there 
is certainly a strong impression here among some of the Liberal 
party, that there was a moment when the Pope, threatened by the 
Garibaldians from without, fearful of the agitations within, and 
doubtful of the vacillating purposes of France, hesitated in his policy, 
and was on the point of calling for the support of Italy. At 
all events, it was currently reported here and believed — and the 
information came straight from the Vatican and from persons 
surrounding the Pope — that orders were sent one morning to suspend 
the works of defence at the gates, and that it was determined to 
call in the Italian troops to preserve order. It is certain that all 
labour on the earthworks was for several hours abandoned, and that 
there was a general rejoicing in the city. Later in the day it is 
said that this resolution was overcome by the insistence of the 
" foreigners " in command of the Papal army, who declared that 
they came there to shed their blood in defence of the Pope, and 
who so earnestly opposed this determination that it was revoked, 
and the work on the fortifications was resumed. On the other hand 
it is stated that subsequently a paper was drawn up by the munici- 
pality, urging an accommodation with Italy, which was carried to the 
Holy Father by the secretary, to which he responded curtly — 
" Imbecilli ! " (fools), and exiled the unfortunate bearer. To any 
one who knows the impulsive character of the Pope, these two 
apparently contradictory stories are perfectly reconcileable. It is 
not the first time that the order of one day has been forgotten and 
denied on the next. Still it is difficult to believe that Pius IX., 
whose ambition rather points in the way of martyrdom, and really 
believes himself to be the vicegerent of God on earth, and specially 
inspired in all his acts, and who is as vain and unreasonable as he 
is obstinate, could have yielded to any pressure of circumstances ; 
and the only explanation of such a determination would be one of 
those sudden changes of opinion and returns upon himself and his 
old ideas, which occasionally astonish his counsellors and friends ; 

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26 The Contemporary Review. 

or perhaps one of those revelations from Sta Fflomena which at 
times rule his conduct. If, in fact, he even for a moment had an 
idea of compromising with Italy, it was dissipated at once by the 
arrival of the French, whose assistance, as he said, he had never 
asked, and whose presence he looked upon as a special interposition 
of Providence. There is no doubt that the Papal Government did 
not make a demand on the Emperor for aid, and the Romans them- 
selves were so fixed in the idea that the French would not interfere, 
that they refused to believe in their coming until they saw the 
soldiers marching into the streets of Rome. So far from their being 
received with enthusiasm by the people, as was stated by the French 
journals, they were met by a sullen silence on all sides ; and though 
the Papal party was strengthened and established by their assist- 
ance, it was only the urgency of the occasion which made them 
welcome. The Emperor has no friends here on either side ; and it 
would be difficult to say whether he were most disliked by the Papal 
party or by the people of Rome. 

There can be little question that had it not been for the aid of the 
French in the battle of Mentana the day would have been gained 
by Garibaldi ; and, despite the Chassepot rifle, the issue of the con- 
flict was undecided at nightfall. Later in the evening, orders were 
sent to Rome for fresh detachments of troops, who were immediately 
marched out to reinforce the Papal army, while the Garibaldians 
through the night maintained their position at Mentana, fighting 
having ceased at four o'clock in the afternoon. Nothing but the 
advance of the French saved the troops of the Pope from utter 
defeat. This is universally admitted here in private, and clearly 
shown by the public reports of Failly and Kanzler. The statement 
as to the superior number of soldiers led by Garibaldi over those on 
the side of the Pope at the battle of Mentana is entirely false. 
Whatever may have been the entire force under Garibaldi, there were 
under 3,000 of his men in action on that day. Garibaldi, not anti- 
cipating an attack, was moving a division of some 2,500 men from 
Monte Rotondo to join Nicotera at Tivoli, when he was attacked by 
Papal troops numbering, by their own account, over 3,000, and sup- 
ported by at least 2,000 French ; and it was with this division that 
the battle was fought. The French officers frankly admit that the 
Garibaldians fought with the utmost obstinacy and heroism. Though 
half-armed, and very scantily supplied with ammunition, many of 
them carrying only shot-guns of the most primitive and inefficient 
character, and some of them having only sticks, they fought with 
desperate ferocity, never breaking when overcome and pressed back, 
but retreating slowly, and rushing constantly on to the well-drilled 
and well-armed battalions of their enemies, engaging with them in 

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Rome at the Close of 1 867. 27 

hand-to-hand conflicts, and, when their powder was exhausted, using 
their guns as clubs against the bayonets of their adversaries. An 
eye-witness, who was present during the whole of the battle, tells 
me that the Garibaldians were never routed or thrown into confusion 
for a moment ; on the contrary, that, until the advance of the French, 
they had the decided advantage. Prom the position he occupied the 
battle-field lay like a map before him. The Zouaves had come to a % 
stand-still in a hollow. The Garibaldians were moving forward to 
enclose them. Garibaldi himself, mounted on a white horse, under 
cover of a hill, was bringing round a detachment to attack them in 
flank, when the French seeing that the Papal troops were'in a most 
dangerous position, advanced in two columns, one on the right and 
one on the left, to save them. Garibaldi, as he moved round the hill, 
came suddenly upon the column on the right, and then the rapid firing 
of the Chassepot rifle was heard for the first time like the fierce con- 
tinuous roll of a drum. The fighting was desperate, but vain, and 
after a short conflict the Garibaldians began slowly to retreat 
before the terrible fire, in perfect order, no one running. This 
gentleman also stated that as he advanced he found the ground 
strewn with dead and wounded Garibaldians so thickly, that he could 
only compare it to pigeons after a number of guns had been fired 
into a flock, only the horror of it was that the pigeons were human 
beings in this case. Everywhere the guns of the Garibaldians were 
scattered about, and he was struck by the fact that most of them 
were smashed at the breech, showing that they had been used as clubs 
in hand-to-hand fighting. As evidence of the want of ammunition, 
one fact may be stated, coming to me directly from a Garibaldian 
captain, a gentleman of birth and education, who lies wounded in 
one of the hospitals in Rome. He says that in his company of one 
hundred and fifty men, he had, towards the close of the battle, only 
three cartridges. When, therefore, we take into consideration that 
the Garibaldians were considerably outnumbered by the Papal 
troops alone, without the French, that they were very inefficiently 
armed, very scant of ammunition, and many of them mere boys of 
fifteen and sixteen years of age, I think the notion that volunteers 
can never be opposed to regular troops with any chance of success 
may be fairly considered as disposed of. Despite the disadvantages, 
the Garibaldians, as I have said, would have carried the day had it 
not been for the French, and even the Chassepot rifle failed to do 
more than bring the battle to a stand-still. If this be not the case, 
how happened it that the Papal and French forces, instead of pur- 
suing the Garibaldians, remained on the ground all night, and sent 
for new reinforcements to Rome P In the hospitals a fair idea may 
be formed of the men who composed the Garibaldian bands. There 

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28 The Contemporary Review. 

are to be seen a number of boys of fifteen or sixteen years of age, 
and a fair proportion of men whose appearance and conversation 
clearly show them to be gentlemen. It serves the purpose of this 
Government to declare that they are merely brigands and black- 
guards, but there is no foundation for such a statement. Undoubtedly 
among them there were ill-conditioned men, some of whom were 
guilty in the country towns of outrage and robbery. But the cases 
where outrages were committed or robbery took place were rare and 
exceptional, and they were at once and severely punished. As a 
general rule, nothing was taken except what was absolutely neces- 
sary, and in such cases a bonus was given to the persons from whom 
anything was taken. The Garibaldians were everywhere received 
with enthusiasm by the people, and the plebiscites were unanimous 
in favour of Italy. Even over the Papal palace at Castel Gandolfo 
the tricolor was raised. 

The conduct of the Zouaves when they again took possession of 
some of the towns occupied by the Garibaldians was characterized by 
a most ill-judged and unnecessary ferocity. For instance, in return- 
ing to Albano, though no attempt at resistance was made, they chal- 
lenged and fired at single persons in the street, and those who, 
attracted by the noise, came to the windows to see what was going on, 
were immediately shot at, and some of them killed. The same thing 
also took place at Rome ; and in one case where a house was attacked 
containing arms, an order was given to the Zouaves that the windows 
and blinds of all the houses adjacent should be immediately closed by 
the occupants. Those who, in obedience to this loudly-shouted order, 
came to the windows to close them, were immediately fired at ; several 
were wounded, and one young man who had lately been married, and 
was the sole support of his family, was shot through the head and 
killed on the spot. 

We have been told by the French papers in the official report that 
only one French soldier was killed at Mentana. But none the less 
we have seen in the church of St. John Lateran, solemn obsequies 
and a grand funeral ceremony and mass for the souls of French and 
Papal troops who perished there. Over the principal entrance, as we ' 
entered, we read : — 

Militdbus, — ductoribus— ordinum — 
Pontefici — et — Gallici — exercitus — 
Qui — pro — apostolica — sede — occubuere . 
Ordo — Canon — et — Klerus — Eccles — Lateran — 
Pietatis — Honorisque — Causa — 

Justa — Funebria — 

Adeste — Cives — Advena que — 

Pacem — Adprecaminor — Viris — Fortiss — 

Quibus — Relligio — Debet — et — Patria. 

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Rome at the Close of 1 867. 29 

In the middle of the nave of the church was a great catafalque, 
with steps and pedestals surmounted by lions, and adorned by 
four elaborate inscriptions. On the top was a colossal figure of the 
archangel Michael, trampling Satan (the Italian Government) under his 
feet, and embracing a shield on which was written, " Quis est Deus," 
and waving a sword, and below was this inscription, " Sancte Michael 
archangele defende nos in praelio." 

" The impression," says the Osservatore Romano, speaking of these ob- 
sequies, " upon all who were present was profound, and the spirit of piety, 
love, gratitude, and holy hope might be read in all their faces. While praying 
for the eternal peace of the just, for the brave defenders of the holy rights of 
the church, they courted the prize that every one felt in his heart had already 
been given to them in heaven." 

Though the Papal party have for the moment conquered and 
enforced a peace, they are far from being reassured or confident of 
the future. The people of Borne are sullen and indignant, and the 
priests know that the snake is only scotched, not killed. Nothing 
can now support Rome but the bayonets of the French. A throne 
of peace established on bayonets ! The " holiness of our Lord " pro- 
tected by cannon ! The " vicegerent of God " on earth shedding 
blood to support his claims for temporal power ! Is all this, ask the 
people, in accordance with the principles of Christ P is this religion 
in practice P Though the priests love not the French, they feel that 
the safety of the city depends on their presence. When they go, 
chaos will come again. The universal question is, What will the 
Emperor do P how will he solve the problem P This problem is, 
first, how to sustain Rome against Italy and against the wishes of 
the people. And this can only be done by an armed occupation. 
Secondly, how in such case to provide for the financial necessities of a 
Government which cannot sustain itself by its own revenues and the 
paltry contributions of Peter's pence, and which is growing bankrupt 
every day. The intervention of France may prop up the temporal 
power, but how is it to pay the expenses of the Papal Government P 
The solution now offered by the Emperor is, a conference of the 
European Powers — a conference to settle a question between two 
parties who will agree to no common basis of compromise, and whose 
claims are utterly inconsistent with each other. Happy thought ! 
What are the views of the Papal Government on this point, may be 
seen from the following extract from the Osservatore Romano of 
November 27 : — 

" A conference relative to the situation of the States of the Pope can only 
have one point of departure ; treaties can only have one object, — the guaranty 
of the temporal sovereignty of the Holy Seat. If from this the movement 
does not begin, where will a solid base of discussion be found ? Will it be 
found upon accomplished fact, upon spoliation, upon acts of force and 

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30 The Contemporary Review. 

The feelings towards Italy may be seen from the following extract 
from the same paper : — " The annals of this Government (of Italy) 
may be resumed in these few words — War to God, war to the Church, 
war to property, war to liberty ; war, in fine, to all persons, things, 
except to demagogic sects and to infidel freemasonry." With those 
feelings and these ideas, what hope can there be of agreement P 
Still, the one fixed idea of Louis Napoleon is a conference. When he 
has got himself into an entanglement from which he sees no outlet, he 
calls a conference which can settle nothing, and to which not even a 
basis of agreement can be offered. He has by his blundering thus 
far thoroughly compromised Italy, and done all that lay in his power 
to crush constitutional government between the revolution on one side 
and war on the other. It is now believed that he connived at the 
attack of the Garibaldians, and the politics of Ratazzi ; that he 
desired a revolution in the Papal States, and counted upon it, and 
allowed it to be understood that in such case, if the Italian troops 
entered the dominions of the Pope, he would accept the position as a 
fait accompli, and threaten, but never act against Italy. This, it 
is said, accounts for his vacillation, for the strength of his language 
to Italy, and the delay of his action for the grand preparations to 
send troops to Borne, — for the orders and countermanding of orders to 
sail. It would even appear that an order not to embark the troops 
arrived at Toulon only a few hours after the first transport had 
quitted the port on its way to Rome, so that even at the last he was 
undetermined how to act, or was playing a game. The difficulty 
was, and it is this which annoys the Italians, that the King did not 
understand all this trickery, and was himself duped by his partner, 
and was so much the humble servant of the " nephew of his uncle," 
that he refused to allow Ratazzi to go on with the game, and thus 
lost an opportunity which will not easily recur. Whether this read- 
ing is correct, who knows P It is certainly not an unreasonable inter- 
pretation of the Emperor's conduct. It is quite inconceivable that 
Ratazzi and Garibaldi should have entered upon the plan of the in- 
vasion of Rome, aroused all the enthusiasm of Italy, compromised the 
hopes of the Romans, sacrificed so many lives, and placed the country 
between the danger of revolution at home and of war with France, 
without some kind of secret understanding with Louis Napoleon. 
Italy knew that she could not compete with France in arms, and she 
knew that an attack on Rome, unless supported by her, would shake 
the Government to its foundation. Yet, instead of crushing the revo- 
lutionary movement when it began, she encouraged it, allowed Gari- 
baldi to enter the Roman provinces, threatened to follow him herself, 
and placed herself at last between two fires. Had the King taken 
possession of the provinces while France was shilly-shallying and 

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Rome at the Close of 1 867. 3 1 

hesitating, it is more than probable that the Emperor would have 
acknowledged the force of accomplished facts, as he did after the 
battle of Castel Fidardo. Indeed, it would have seemed that the 
old game was to have been played out again, but that the King was 
too dull to make the move that was expected. After France had in- 
tervened, it was too late. 

Still, if Italy would boldly take the ground that the intervention 
of France has set aside the convention, and freed her from all her 
engagements as to the Holy See, her position would be better than it 
was while she was hampered with vain promises and stipulations, 
and pledged to a difficult and almost impossible duty. Louis 
Napoleon, by the infraction of the convention, has again placed 
himself in the dilemma from which he required eighteen years to 
extricate himself after his previous intervention in 1848. No 
change of feeling was effected by those eighteen years of suppres- 
sion of the Roman people. They were the same on the exit of the 
French troops in 1866 that they were on their entrance in 1848, and 
the abandonment of Home was the signal for a revival of revolution. 
In fact, however, the withdrawal of the French was merely nominal. 
They were still represented by the Antibes Legion, and still ruled 
Rome. The only difference was that Italy assumed obligations 
which it was impossible for her to perform, and which have ended 
in threatening seriously her existence. When it is stated that 
Garibaldi had no right to enter the Roman territory, it is forgotten 
that by the clearly expressed will of the Roman people, freely de- 
clared, he was created commander-in-chief of the Republic of Rome ; 
that the Roman Republic, though overthrown by French arms, 
never abdicated its powers, never surrendered those rights which 
were conferred by the only legitimate source of power, the Roman 
people, and that the Parliament merely adjourned and did not 
abandon its powers. During eighteen years the Republic was held 
in abeyance by the French arms, but as the will of the French 
people created the Empire, so the will of the Roman people created 
the Republic. If the Pope pretends that he holds his temporal 
power by the will of the people, let him prove it by " a plebiscite." 
The undoubted fact is that he only maintains that power by force of 
foreign arms. 

The only solution of the Roman question which seems practicable 
is the union of Rome to Italy, the independence of the Pope guaran- 
teed by the Catholic Powers, and upheld by an ample revenue fur- 
nished by them, and his dominions reduced to the Leonine city. No 
other solution is consistent with the now universally recognised 
doctrine, that the right of kings is founded on the will of the people, 
and cannot supersede their just demands. At present the main 

Digitized by CjOOQIC 

32 The Contemporary Review. 

elements upon which a State can be properly established are want- 
ing here. There is no civil code of law, there is no decent adminis- 
tration of justice, there are no public trials, no public examinations 
of witnesses, and no sufficient guarantees of the rights and liberties 
of the people. The pleadings of the higher courts are still in Latin. 
The judges are priests. The argument of counsel is made to them 
separately, and in private in their own apartments ; the testimony is 
purely by ex parte affidavits, the witnesses never personally appearing 
before the court, and no cross-examination being allowed. There is 
no trial by jury ; there is nothing corresponding to the Habeas 
Corpus Act. Arrests take place upon mere suspicion, and the 
suspected persons often languish for years in prison with no means 
of obtaining a trial, and often with no idea of the cause of their 
arrest. And all this is forced upon the Roman people because 
France chooses to maintain the doctrine that they have no rights 
which interfere with the arbitrary domination of the Pope as a 
temporal sovereign, and that he being the head of the Catholic 
Church, is authorized to oppress as he chooses that fraction of 
Catholics which resides in his dominions. And the ground upon 
which France founds her right of interference in the affairs of 
another people is that she must maintain " her legitimate influence/' 
whatever that may happen to be. 

Scarcely, however, have the French arrived here than there seems 
to be another change in the mind of the Emperor, and they are now 
rapidly being withdrawn. Whether it is his intention absolutely to 
abandon Rome, or merely to withdraw the greater portion, leaving 
only a garrison at Civita Vecchia, is not known to the world, to his 
officers, or perhaps even to himself. Probably, as usual, the political 
Micawber is waiting for what " will turn up," and has no definite 
idea of what he is about. This great statesman, this extraordinary 
political genius, has managed of late to flounder from one embroil- 
ment into another with wonderful dexterity, and has generally no 
other solution for the entanglements he makes than a conference of 
European Powers. If he continue to make for the future as eminent 
blunders as those of Mexico and Venetia, and to miscalculate events 
as admirably as he did during the late war in Germany, perhaps the 
world may come to the conclusion that he is a man of whims and 
notions rather than of ideas and capacity, and instead of being a 
great political and administrative genius, is a very ordinary person. 
His sudden resolution to withdraw his troops from Rome has taken 
the army here by surprise, for they had every reason to suppose that 
they were to remain here for months at least, and the officers had 
taken their lodgings for that period. If other evidence of his 
intention to occupy Rome for a longer time be needed, it may be 
found in the great quantity of stores and provisions sent here for 

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Rome at the Close of 1867. 33 

the use of the French troops. But probably he sees that the game 
he is playing is dangerous, and very unpopular in France, and is 
desirous of withdrawing from it as soon as he can. By his inter- 
vention in Borne he has settled nothing, and made an enemy of Italy 
without satisfying the Pope. Whether he keep his army at Borne 
or withdraw it to France, leaving a garrison at Civita Vecchia, the 
result is the same. So long as any number of French soldiers are at 
Civita Vecchia, or so long as he holds over Italy and Rome a threat 
of intervention in case of a movement in favour of liberty, so long he 
keeps the people in subjection to a foreign domination. If he abso- 
lutely abandon Borne, he stultifies his late enterprise. Either way 
he has burnt his fingers. 

Though the public press of France has been very loud in praise 
of the Chassepot rifle, the real fact is that it has proved defective in 
many essential qualities, and the greater portion of the guns used at 
Mentana have since required to be put in order. It was found that 
the French troops fired too rapidly, that the guns in consequence 
became over-heated, and after a short time not only would not work 
well, but were too hot to be used. In some cases the bullets were 
found wedged half way up the barrel : and had the contest been 
prolonged, it is doubtful whether the guns would not have become 
comparatively useless. 

It is to the credit of the Boman Government that the Garibaldian 
prisoners have been well cared for and treated with kindness. The 
hospitals where they are lodged are clean, and their needs have been 
attended to. A large number of them were sent over the frontier a 
few days ago ; and the moment they were within the boundaries of 
Italy, they cried " Viva Italia," and " Morte al Papa," and avowed 
their intention of returning as soon as possible to renew the attack on 
Borne. Belease from imprisonment was repeatedly offered to them 
on condition that they would pledge themselves not to take up arms 
again against the Boman Government. But no one was found to 
accept the offer. They look upon their defeat as a defeat by the 
French, and they only await the retirement of the French army to 
reorganize for a new attack. But there is no reason to suppose that 
this can possibly take place before the spring. At present all are 
waiting for the opening of the Italian Parliament, when we shall 
probably hear hot discussions, and a new and more resolute attitude 
will be forced on the Government. 

The Republican party has greatly increased during the last few 
months in Italy, but this is probably more the result of a strong 
reaction against the King, and of the inefficiency of the Government, 
than of any real desire to substitute a republic for a monarchy. Mr. 
Mazzini has little influence and few admirers. A man who has never 


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34 TAe Contemporary Review. 

been under fire himself, and who has had a great regard for hie own 
personal safety, while urging others into posts of danger* is not of the 
calibre to make a popular hero. However Garibaldi may have been 
wanting in judgment, he has backed up his principles with deeds ; 
he has taken his place as leader, and confronted danger, and exposed 
his life in thp most heroic manner, and therefore he is a great power, 
though his efforts have resulted in defeat. But Mr. Mazzini is only 
a hero on paper ; and, himself in perfect security of life and limb, he 
merely issues inflammatory proclamations from afar, and urges a revo- 
lution which he does not personally join in. He stands on the hill 
out of shot, and blows the trumpet for others to advance. 

The nobility of Rome as a body is Papal. It has been too long in 
the leading-strings of the Church to have any enlarged view. Its 
education is priestly. Its only career is the Church and the Guardia 
Nobile, if the latter position can be called a career, and it does 
not belong by its ideas to this century. It was this body, united to 
the employes of the Government, who welcomed back the French and 
Papal troops with rejoicings when they returned from the battle of 
Montana. The mass of the people themselves took no part in the 
demonstration, but submitted to it sullenly. The nobles have since 
outdone themselves in banquets and receptions of the French officers 
and the Papal troops. At the Barberini palace a dinner was given 
in the great hall to the prisoners returned from Monte Rotendo, in 
which speeches were made in honour of the heroes who fought for the 
principles of the thirteenth century, the nobles themselves waiting on 
the guests. And subsequently in the same palace there was a grand 
reception with a supper given to the French officers in recognition of 
their services. Other demonstrations of a somewhat similar kind were 
held at the Borghese palace and at the French casino. But the people 
were indignant, and it was found necessary strictly to guard those 
palaces for days, and to challenge every one who entered, lest bombs 
should be exploded in the court. There is scarcely a day passes that 
reports are not current that this or that palace has been mined, or 
that arms and ammunition or bombs have not been found under some 
building, but all these are apparently mere "inventions of the 
enemy," without any foundation, and begotten by fear. Still this 
shows how very slight is the confidence of the ruling party in the 
present calm. Meantime the triumvirate of Pius IX., Cardinal An- 
tonelli, and the Roman Bank rules as usual How long it will con- 
tinue to rule is a question that is difficult to answer. The Oiornale 
di Roma and the Ossertatare Romano "rage and imagine a vain 
thing." They are imbedded in ideas of the past, and cannot under- 
stand the present century. They are filled with loud assertions of 
facts which do not exist, and with violent attacks upon all who differ 

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Rome at the Close of 1867. 35 

from their ideas. " Lord Gladstone," as he is called, came in the other 
day for his share of abuse in a leader from which I translate the fol- 
lowing extract ; it is from the Osservatore of Nov. 25 : — 

"Let Lord Gladstone, who, in order to promote the guilty projects 
of revolution, has lied as no others ever did (ha mentito quant' altri 
mai), now travestying the truth, now inventing that which has not 
even the appearance of truth, contemplate the present condition of 
England, and perhaps he will hear sounding in his ear like an accusa- 
tion from conspirators at home, that motto as famous as it is falla- 
cious, launched by him against a peaceful state, of * a Government 
which is the negation of God/ This is the phrase which the agita- 
tors who seek to disturb order in England will have learned from 
Lord Gladstone. He employed it as an incendiary torch against a 
foreign and friendly Government, now internal enemies use it against 
the authority of his owa country." Again, in the Osservatore of 
Nov. 22, we read : — 

" Lord Gladstone is too well known, and from him nothing excites 
surprise. After having co-operated in destroying the legitimate mo- 
narchies in Italy, after having published, in favour of revolution, lies 
(mensogne) which have become famous, he would not reason dif- 
ferently." " The temporal dominion of the Pope subsists, and will 
continue to subsist, and neither the bitter political discourses of Lord 
Palmerston, nor the virulent declamations of Lord Gladstone, nor the 
ire of Lord Russell, have overthrown it, nor will it be overthrown by 
the refusal professed yesterday by Lord Stanley to the House of 
Commons to associate himself with the maintenance of the temporal 

The more the priests tremble, the louder they talk. They profess 
to believe that the power of the Pope can never be overthrown. 
" No ! " says the Qwrnale di Roma, " the Pope knows how to spend 
to the last coin his money, knows how to take the road to exile, 
knows even how to die ; but his supreme authority, but his venerable 
sceptre, shall never owe its existence to the miseries of this earth, but 
only to the omnipotence of that God who demands it with an im- 
mortal power, of a power that conquers its most rabid enemies, and 
against which the gates of hell shall not prevail." 


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ENGLAND is not a musical country — England is not an artistic 
country. But the English are more artistic than musical ; that 
is to say, they have produced better artists than musicians. A country 
is not musical or artistic when you can get its people to look at 
pictures or listen to music, but when its people are themselves musi- 
cians and artists. It cannot be affirmed that Englishmen are, or ever 
were, either one or the other. 

Painting is older, and has had a longer time to develop, than 
music. There have been great English painters, who have painted 
in the Dutch, Italian, and Spanish styles — there has even been a 
really original school of English landscape painters — and these later 
years have witnessed some very remarkable and original develop- 
ments of the art in England ; but the spirit of it is not in the people 
for all that. The art of our common workmen is stereotyped, not 
spontaneous. When our architects cease to copy they become dull. 
Our houses are all under an Act of Uniformity. 

Music in England has always been an exotic, and whenever the 
exotic seed has escaped and grown wild on English soil, the result 
has been weeds, not flowers. The Elizabethan music (1550) was all 
Italian ; the Restoration music (1650), half French and half German. 
No one will deny that Tallis, Farrant, Byrd, " in the service high and 

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Music in England. 37 

anthem clear," — Morley, Ward, Wilbye, in the madrigal, made a most 
original use of their materials ; but the materials were foreign, for all 
that. At the Restoration, Pelham Humphreys, called by Pepys " an 
absolute monsieur/' is as really French as Dr. Sterndale Bennett is 
really German. Purcell, a very Mozart of his time, was largely 
French, although he seemed to strike great tap-roots into the older 
Elizabethan period, just as Mendelssohn struck them deep into 
S. Bach. But all these men have one thing in common, — they were 
composers in England, they were not English composers. They did 
not write for the people, the people did not care for their music. 
The music of the people was low ballads — the music of the people is 
still low ballads. Our highest national music vibrates between 
" When other lips" and " Champagne Charley." 

These ballads of all kinds are not exotic: they represent the 
national music of the English people. The people understand music 
to be a pleasant noise and a jingling rhythm ; hence their passion for 
loudness and for the most vulgar and pronounced melody. That 
music should be to language what language is to thought, a kind of 
subtle expression and counterpart of it ; that it should range over 
the wordless region of the emotions, and become in turn the lord and 
minister of feeling — sometimes calling up images of beauty and 
power, at others giving an inexpressible relief to the heart, by 
clothing its aspirations with a certain harmonious form; — of all 
this the English people know nothing. And as English music is 
jingle and noise, so the musician is the noisemakcr for the people, 
and nothing more. Even amongst the upper classes, except in some 
few cases, it has been too much the fashion to regard the musician as 
a kind of servile appendage to polite society; and no' doubt this 
treatment has reacted disastrously upon musicians in England, so 
that many of them are or become what society assumes them to be— 
uncultivated men, in any true sense of the word. And this will be so 
until music is felt here, as it is felt in Germany, to be a kind of 
necessity — to be a thing without which the heart pines and the 
emotions wither — a need, as of light, and air, and fire. 

Things are improving, no doubt. When genius, both creative and 
executive, has been recognised over and over again as devoted to 
music, even a British public has had thoughts of patting the gods on 
the back. There is a growing tendency to give illustrious musicians 
the same position which has been granted in almost every age and 
country to illustrious poets and painters. Let us hope that refined 
musicians, even though not of the highest genius, may ere long meet 
with a like honourable reception. Why has this not been the case 
hitherto ? We reply, because England is not a musical country. 
The first step is to awaken in her, or force upon her, the appreciation 

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38 The Contemporary Review. 

of music aa an art. That is the stage we are now at. The second 
stage is to create a national school of composers — this is what we 
hope to arrive at. 

The contrast between indigenous art and exotic art is always 
marked. When the people love spontaneously, there is enthusiasm 
and reverence for the artist and his work. Where or when in thts 
country will ever be seen a multitude like the crowd which followed 
Cimabue's picture of the Madonna through the streets of Florence, 
or the mournful procession that accompanied Mendelssohn to his 
grave P 

When art has to be grafted on to a nation, it is received fastidiously 
at first — the old tree likes not the taste of the new sap. When the 
graft succeeds, and the tree brings forth good fruit, the people 
pluck it and eat it admiringly, but ages sometimes elapse before it 
becomes a staff of life to them. But let art be indigenous, as in 
Greece of old, in modern Italy, in Germany, even in France, and 
every mechanic will carve and sculpt, every boor will sing and 
listen to real music, every shopman will have an intuitive taste and 
arrange his wares to the best possible advantage. In India the 
commonest workman will set colours for the loom in such a manner 
as to ravish the eye of the most cultivated European artist. In the 
German refreshment rooms of the recent Paris Exhibition, there 
were rough bands working steadily through the symphonies of 
Mozart and Haydn, whilst the public were never found so intent on 
sauer kraut and sausages as not to applaud vociferously at the end, 
and sometimes even encore an adagio. Fancy the frequenters of 
Gremorne encoring Mozart's Symphony, No. Op. ! 

However, the people have their music, and it is of no use to deny 
it; and the marks of patronage bestowed upon ballad-mongers, 
one-eyed harpers, asthmatic flutes, grinders and bands from " Vater- 
land," are sufficient to inspire the sanguine observer with hopes 
for the future. 

When a man cannot feed himself, the next best thing is to get* 
friend to do it for him. It cannot be denied that the English of all 
classes have shown great liberality in importing and paying for all 
kinds of foreign music as well as in cherishing such scanty germs as 
there happen to be around them. A musician of any kind is less 
likely to starve in England than in any other country, from the 
organ-grinder who lounges with his lazy imperturbable smile before 
the area railings, as who should say, " If I don't get a copper here 
I shall round the corner, and no matter," to the sublime maestro 
(Beethoven) who, abandoned in the hour of sickness and poverty by 
his own countrymen, received upon his death-bed an honorarium of 
£100 from the London Philharmonic Society. 

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Music m England. 39 

English managers were the first who introduoed the scale of 
exorbitant salaries now paid to opera singers and a few of the best 
instrumentalists. We believe the system began with Malibran, bat 
Paganini was so well aware of our extravagant foible, that he 
doubled the prices of admission whenever he played at the Opera 
House. It is the old story — humming birds at the North Pole and 
ioe in the tropics will be found equally expensive. 

We have now said the worst that can be said about music in 
England ; all the rest shall be in mitigation of the above criticism. 
u May it please your highness," says Griffith, in Henry VIIL f " te 
hear me speak his good now." 


It is certainly true that if we do not sow the seed we provide an 
admirable soil. Let the English people once receive an impression, 
and it will be held with a surprising tenacity. When Madame 
Grisi, at the age of one hundred — beautiful for ever but perfectly 
inaudible— shall advance to the footlights to take her farewell benefit, 
those of us who are still alive will flock to see her, and strew her 
path with flowers as fadeless as herself. But let a musical seed of any 
kind but onee take root, and it will spread with an amazing rapidity. 

Fifty-five years ago the old Philharmonic was without a riVal. 
Every year some new ckef-d'&iwre was produced, and at each con- 
cert the English public was taught to expect two long symphonies, 
besides classical concertos, relieved only by a song or two as a kind 
of musical salts to prevent downright collapse. This discipline 
was thought by some to be too severe ; but a little knot of con* 
noisseurs maintained that in the symphonies of Haydn and Mozart 
were to be found the most precious treasures of music, and people 
hitherto only accustomed to in stru mental mu&io as an accompani- . 
ment to vocal, began to listen with a growing interest to purely 
orchestral performances. Haydn and Mozart soon became popular, 
but Beethoven was long a stumbling-block, and although held in great 
veneration, and at all times meet liberally treated by the Philhar- 
monic Society, yet even that advanced body took some time to 
unravel the .mysteries of the great C minor, and for years after 
Beethoven's death his greatest orchestral works were to a large 
majority of English ears as sounding brass and tinkling cymbal. 

It is impossible to overrate the influence of the old Philharmonic 
upon musical taste in England, but it did not long stand alone. 
A gold mine may be opened by a solitary band of diggers, but the 
road leading to- it soon becomes crowded ; a thousand other breaches 
are speedily made. We have seen during the last' few years the 
swarms of daily papers which have sprung up round the Timet; the 

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40 The Contemporary Review. 

same remark applies to the crop of quarterlies around the Edinburgh ; 
the cheap magazines round the Cornhill; exhibitions round that of 
1851 ; and, we may add, orchestral societies round the old Phil- 

We may fairly date the present wave of musical progress in this 
country from the advent of Mendelssohn. It is now more than thirty 
years ago since he appeared at the Philharmonic, and, both as 
conductor and pianist, literally carried all before him. He brought 
with him that reverence for art, and that high sense of the artist's 
calling, without which art is likely to degenerate into a mere 
pastime, and the artist himself into a charlatan. The young com- 
poser read our native bands some useful lessons. Himself the che- 
valier of music, — sans peiir et sans reproche, — sensitive indeed to 
criticism, but still more alive to the honour of his art, he could not 
brook the slightest insult or slur put upon music. Gifted with a rare 
breadth and sweetness of disposition, his ire began to be dreaded as 
much as he himself was admired and beloved. 

At a time when Schubert was known here only by a few songs, 
Mendelssohn brought over the magnificent symphony in G (lately per- 
formed at the Crystal Palace), together with his own Buy Bias overture 
in MS. The parts of Schubert's symphony were distributed to the 
band. Mendelssohn was ready at his desk, — the b&ton rose, — the 
romantic opening was taken, — but after the first few lines, signs of 
levity caught the master's eye. He closed the score ; — the gentlemen 
of the band evidently considered the music rubbish, and, amidst some 
tittering, collected the parts, which were again deposited in the 

" Now for your overture, Herr Mendelssohn ! " was the cry. 

"Pardon me!" replied the indignant composer, with all calm; 
and taking up his hat, he walked out of the room. 

Buy Bias went back to Germany, but the lesson was not soon 

After living amongst us just long enough to complete and produce 
his master-piece, the Elijah, at Birmingham, he died (1847), leaving 
behind him an illustrious school of disciples, of whom Dr. Sterndale 
Bennett may be named chief, and to that new school, as well as to 
the old-established Philharmonic Society, may be traced the rapid 
increase of orchestral societies and orchestral concerts in England. 
In looking back through the last fifteen years, the difficulty is to 
choose one's examples. 

The growing popularity of the orchestra is a sure sign of the 
popular progress in music. Ballad singing and solo playing, in 
dealing with distinct ideas and accented melodies, and by infusing 
into the subject a kind of personal interest in the performance, 

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Music in England. 41 

depend upon many quite unmusical adjuncts for their success ; but 
orchestral playing, in dealing chiefly with harmony, brings us 
directly into the abstract region of musical ideas. The applause 
which follows "Coming through the Rye," is just as often given to 
a pretty face or a graceful figure as to the music itself ; and when 
people encore Bottesini or Wieniawski, it is often only to have 
another stare at the big fiddle, the romantic locks, or the dramatic 
sang-froid of these incomparable artists ; but the man who applauds 
a symphony, applauds no words or individuals, — he is come into the 
region of abstract emotion, and if he does not understand its sove- 
reign language, he will hear about as much as a colour-blind man 
will see by looking into a prism. It is a hopeful sign when the 
people listen to German bands in the streets. A taste for penny ices 
proves that the common people have a glimmering of the straw- 
berry creams which Mr. Gunter prepares for sixpence; and the 
frequent consumption of ginger-pop and calves' head broth, indicate 
a confirmed, though it may be hopeless, passion for champagne and 
turtle-soup. No one will say that the old Philharmonic in any sense 
supplied music for the people, but the people heard of it and clamoured 
for it, and in obedience to the spirit of the age the man arose who 
was able to give them as near an approach to the loftier depart- 
ments of music as the masses could appreciate. 

The immortal Mons. Jullien, who certainly wielded a most 
magical white b&ton, and was generally understood to wear the 
largest white waistcoat ever seen, attracted immense, enthusiastic, 
and truly popular crowds to his truly popular concerts. Knowing 
little about the science of music, and glad, says rumour, to avail him- 
self of more learned scribes in arranging his own matchless polkas 
and quadrilles, he had the singular merit of finding himself on 
all occasions inspired with the most appropriate emotions. From 
the instant he appeared before a grateful public to the moment 
when, exhausted by more than human efforts, he sank into his 
golden fauteuil, Mons. Jullien was a sight ! The very drops upon 
his Parian brow were so many tributary gems of enthusiasm to 
the cause of art. Not that Mons. Jullien ever lost his person- 
ality, or forgot himself in that great cause. The wave of his silken 
pocket-handkerchief, with the glittering diamond rings, seemed to 
say, " There, there, my public ! the fire of genius consumes me — but 
I am yours ! " 

But without further pleasantry, it must be acknowledged that the 
irresistible Jullien took the English public by storm, and having won, 
he made an admirable use of his victory. Besides his band in 
London, detachments travelled all over the country, and spread far 
and wide currents of the great central fire that blazed in the 

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42 The Contemporary Review. 

Those grand triumphs at the Surrey Gardens, when the Jullien 
orchestra, overlooking the artificial lake, rang through the summer 
evenings, and sent its echoes reverberating through the mimic fortress 
of Gibraltar, or the magic oaves presently to be lit up by forty thousand 
additional lamps ! Happy hours ! we remember them in the days of 
our early youth ! No summer evenings in the open air seem now so full 
of ecstasy ; no fireworks explode with such regal and unprecedented 
splendour ; must it be confessed P no music can come again with 
such a weird charm as that which filled the child's ear and ravished 
the child's heart with a new and ineffable tremor of delight. But it 
was the music, not the scenery, not the fireworks alone. It was 
hardly a display of fireworks, assisted by Mons. Jullien's band, — -it 
was Mons. Jullien's band accompanied by fireworks ! It would be 
wrong, however, to imply that these concerts were supported merely 
by big drums and skyrockets. 

We do not think Mons. Jullien ever got due credit for the large 
mass of good classical music he was in the habit of introducing. 
Besides the finest German overtures, we have heard movements from 
Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven's symphonies admirably executed by 
him ; of course without the repose and intellect of a classical con- 
ductor, but without offensive sensationalism, and with perfect 

Upon the shoulders of the late lamented Mr. Mellon descended 
the mantle of Mons. Jullien. If Mellon's concerts lacked the romance 
and unapproachable fire that went out with the brilliant Frenchman, 
they retained all that could be retained of his system, and gave it 
additions which his perseverance had made possible, but which he 
had probably never contemplated. We notice the same care in 
providing the first soloists. 

Bottesini, whose melodies floated in the open air over the Surrey 
Gardens, and filled the world with a new wonder and delight, was 
again heard under the dome of Cevent Garden. 

M. Sivori — the favourite pupil of Paganini, who seems to have 
inherited all the flowing sweetness of the great magician without a 
spark of his demoniac fury— appeared, and filled those who remem- 
bered the master with a strange feeling, as though at length, 

,c Above all pein, yet pitying all distress," 

the master's soul still flung to earth faint fragments from the choirs 
that chime 

" After the chiming of the eternal spheres." 

Mobs. Levy, <m the cornet, and Mons. Wirniawski, on the vtotin, 
are the only other real instrumental sensations that have been pro* 
deuced at these concerts. > 

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Musk in England. 43 

At any time instrumental genius is rare, andof the numbers who are 
first-rate, only a few feel equal to stilling the noisy, half-trained audi- 
ences usually found at promenade concerts. When we have mentioned 
Chopin, Liszt, Thalberg, Mendelssohn, Madame Schumann, Madame 
Goddard, .Rubinstein, and Hall£, on the piano ; De Beriot, Paganini, 
Ernst, Yieuxtemps, Wieniawski, and Joachim, on the violin ; Linley 
and Piatti on the violincello ; Dragonetti and Bottesini on the contra* 
bssso ; Eonig and Levy on the cornet, the roll of solo-instrumentalists 
during the last fifty years may very nearly be closed. And of the 
above men, some, like Ghopin, Holh£, and Joachim, never cared to 
face, strictly speaking, popular audiences ; but those who did were 
usually secured by the popular orchestras of Jullien and Mellon, and 
by the givers of those intolerable bwes called monster concerts, — 
we need only specify the annual concerts of Messrs. Benedict and 


The immense advance of the popular mind is remarkably illus- 
trated by the change in the ordinary orchestral programme. We 
have now Mozart nights, and Beethoven nights, and Mendelssohn 
nights. Not bits of symphonies, but entire works are now listened 
to, and movements of them are encored by audiences at Covent 
Garden. We have heard the Scotch symphony and the " Power of 
Sound" received with discrimination and applause. A certain critical 
spirit is creeping into these audiences, owing to the large infusion of 
really musical people who are on the look-out for good programmes, 
and invariably support them. 

The old and new Philharmonics, the London Musical Society, 
Jullien, Mellon, Arditi, and last — and greatest of all — the Crystal 
Palace band, have no doubt supplied a want, but they have also created 
one. They have taught thousands to care about good music. They 
have taught those who did care to be more critical. The time is 
gone by when the Philharmonic had it all its own way, or when 
only the wealthy could hear fine music, or when the public generally 
was thankful for small mercies. The ears of the public have grown 
sharp. When musical amateurs now. go to hear a symphony, they 
know what they go for, and they know, too, whether they get it. 
They hear the Italian Symphony by the Crystal Palace band on 
Saturday afternoon, and on the following Monday evening at 
Mellon's, and by-and-by at the Philharmonic, and there is no possi- 
bility of evading a damaging comparison. The members of the 
Crystal Palace band, from playing every day all the year round 
together under the same admirable conductor, have achieved an 
excellence hitherto unknown in England. 

The office of conductor is no sinecure. The position of the four 

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44 ^he Contemporary Review. 

or five conductors before the public in England is accurately gauged, 
and the merits of each new aspirant to fame are eagerly discussed. 

Mr. Manns, of the Crystal Palace band, is the finest classical con- 
ductor in England. The refinements gone into by the band in play- 
ing Beethoven's symphonies are only to be compared to the rendering 
of Beethoven's sonatas by M. Charles Hall£. The wind is simply 
matchless, and blows as one man ; the wind accompaniment in the 
Italian symphony to the slow movement commonly called "The 
March of the Pilgrims," has all the evenness and dead accuracy of 
the key-board. But it is more than a key-board — it is a key- 
board with a soul — it sounds like an inspired organ. If we might 
venture on a criticism, we would suggest a certain breadth of style 
and repose of manner as appropriate to the great, slow movements 
of Beethoven. Where Mr. Manns appears to us to be absolutely 
impeccable, is in his rendering of Schubert, and the great orchestral 
overtures of Weber and Mendelssohn. Not that any one in England 
could produce Schumann's works as he does, but the name of Robert 
Schumann opens up a field of absorbing inquiry which we must not 
allow ourselves to enter upon. 

The late Mr. Mellon, without the fire of genius, brought great 
vigour of talent, perseverance, and ingenuity to bear upon his band. 
The French brilliancy of Jullien was replaced in Mellon by a careful 
calculation of effect. In comparing his band with that of the Crystal 
Palace, we must always remember that he was less favourably situated 
in three particulars. His band was larger and less choicely selected, 
it rehearsed less frequently, and was bound to cater for rough, 
mixed audiences. His work was thus less noble, but more popular. 
To adapt the words of the late Dr. Whewell, in speaking of the poets 
Longfellow and Tennyson, " He was appreciated by thousands whose 
tastes rendered them inaccessible to the harmonies of the greater 

The attempted imitations of Mellon's concerts by Signor Akditi 
and M. Jullien (fifo) were felt by all to be failures. The theatre 
was never half full, and the performances indifferent. In all proba- 
bility they will not be revived. 

The recent continuation of Mellon's concerts under Signor Bot- 
tesini must be spoken of in very different terms. The classical 
music is not so well done, but the ensemble is admirable; and 
the presence of a master, though a somewhat careless one, is felt 
throughout. Signor Bottesini's opera-conducting delighted even a 
Paris audience. His classical taste is also very fine ; the simplest 
accompaniment played by him, and the simplest selection arranged 
by him, display the same tact and genius ; nor is it wonderful' to find 
him pass from the skilled soloist to the conductor's desk, and wield 

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Music in England. 45 

the baton with a grace and power worthy of the first contra-basso in 
the world, and the third best billiard player in Europe. 

A strange new figure has startled the public out of all composure 
and gravity this season. Every night in the middle of the concert, 
a slim and dandified young man, with a profuse black beard and 
moustache, would step jauntily on to the platform vacated by Signor 
Bottesini. His appearance was the signal for frantic applause, to 
which, fiddle and bow in hand, he bowed good-humouredly ; then, 
turning sharp round, he would seem to catch the eye of every one 
in the band, and raising his violin bow, would plunge into one of 
those rapturous dance tunes which once heard could never be for- 
gotten. Now shaking his bow at the distant drummer, egging on 
the wind, picking up the basses, turning fiercely on the other stringed 
instruments; then stamping, turning a pirouette, and dashing his 
bow down on his own fiddle-strings, the clear twanging of the 
Strauss violin would be heard for some moments above all the rest. 
Presently the orchestra sways as one man into the measure, which 
flows capriciously — now tearing along, then suddenly languishing, 
at the will of the magical and electric violin. Johann Strauss 
danced, pit and boxes danced, the very lights winked in time ; every- 
body and everything seemed turned into a waltz or a galop, by 
yonder inexorable " Pied piper/' until some abrupt clang brought 
all to a close, and the little man was left bowing and smiling, and 
capering backwards, to an audience beside themselves with delight. 
Nothing of the kind has been seen in England before, and all that 
can be said is, that of its kind it is simply inimitable. 

It is a transition as sudden as any to be found in the Strauss 
dances to pass from Herr Johann Strauss to Dr. Sterndale Bennett. 
Dr. Bennett's conducting is without the vis vicida of Mendelssohn, 
or the imposing personality of Costa. It nevertheless possesses great 
charm for his numerous admirers, and is full of refinement and quiet 
power. This illustrious musician is better understood in Germany 
than in England. 

Two rising conductors are now before the public. Mr. Arthur 
Sullivan and Mr. W. G. Cusins. The first presides over the Civil 
Service orchestra, the second is the esteemed conductor of the old 

Mr. Sullivan is endowed with splendid original gifts. The temp- 
tation, first, not to select from the storehouse of his ideas those fit 
to be retained and elaborated, and, secondly, to publish all that he 
writes, is no doubt common to Mr. Sullivan and all other men of fluent 
and abundant thought. A speaker who can always go on when he 
gets upon his legs is sometimes tempted to rise without due prepara- 
tion. It is not much speaking or writing, but much publishing, which 

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46 The Contemporary Review. 

should be guarded against. Mendelssohn used to say, " I make a point 
of writing every day, whether I have any ideas or not/' but his care 
to write often was surpassed by his care to withhold what he had 
written. A clever composer can always turn out gilt ginger-bread 
to order, and some will take the glitter for gold and the cake for 
wholesome food ; but, after all, it is better to be than to seem. As a 
composer, Mr. Sullivan can be almost whatever he chooses to be ; as 
a conductor he ought to become the first in England. 

Mr. W. G. Cusms at the Philharmonic won great favour last 
season with that critical audience. The care which he bestowed 
on rehearsals, the careful though quaint selection of his programmes, 
the noble soloists (e.g., Herren Joachim and Rubinstein, and Madame 
Schumann), and the new chef-tFcmvres which he produced, made last 
season altogether one of the most brilliant of many brilliant prede- 

We have reserved the name of M. Costa until now, that we might 
speak of him in connection with the opera and oratorio. About the 
progress or decadence of the opera we shall say but little. We regard 
it, musically, philosophically, and ethically, as an almost unmixed evil 
Its very constitution seems to us false, and in Germany, either tacitly 
or avowedly, it has always been felt to be so. 

Mozart no doubt wrote operas, but the influence of Italy was then 
dominant in music, and determined its form even in Germany. The 
Ctimenta di Tito in its feebleness is a better illustration of this than Bon 
Juan in its great might. Schubert in Alfonso and Estrella broke down, 
hopelessly hampered by stage requirements. Spohr's Jessonda was 
never successful, and he abandoned opera writing. Weber singularly 
combined the lyric and dramatic elements, and succeeded in making 
his operas of Oheron and Der Freisehutz almost philosophical without 
being dull. Mendelssohn avoided opera with a keen instinct, and 
selected the truer forms of oratorio, cantata, and occasional music, 
of which take as supreme examples, the Elijah, Walpurgis Nacht, 
Antigone, and Midsummer Night's Dream. Wagner in despair has 
been driven, in Tannhauter and Lohengrin, into wild theories of opera, 
devoid, as it seems to us, both of Italian naivete and sound German 
philosophy. Schumann, avoiding all scenic effect, found in Paradise 
and the Peri a form as charming and appropriate as it is true to the 
first principles of art. 

Beethoven wrote the best opera in the world simply to prove that 
he could do everything, but the form was even then a concession to 
what was least commendable in German taste ; and the overture was 
written four times over, with the colossal irony of one who, although 
he would not stoop to win, yet knew how to compel the admiration 
of the world. 

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Music in England. 47 

The truth is simple. The opera is a mixture of two things which 
ought always to be kept distinct — the sphere of musical emotion and 
the sphere of dramatic action. It is not true, under any circum- 
stances, that people sing songs with a knife through them. The 
war between the stage and music is internecine. We have only to 
glance at a first-rate libretto, e.g., that of Gounod's Faust, to see that 
the play is miserably spoiled for the music. We have only to think 
of any stock opera to see that the music is hampered and impeded in 
its development by the play. Controversy upon this subject will, of 
course, rage fiercely. Meanwhile irreversible principles of art must 
be noted. 

Music expresses the emotions which attend certain characters and 
situations, but not the characters and situations themselves ; and the 
two schools of opera have arisen out of this distinction. The Italian 
school wrongly assumes that music can express situations, and thus 
gives prominence to the situations. The German school, when 
opera has been forced upon it, has striven with the fallacy involved 
in its constitution by maintaining that the situation must be reduced 
and made subordinate to the emotion which accompanies it, and 
which it is the business of music to express. Thus the tendency of 
the German opera is to make the scene as ideal as possible. The 
more unreal the scene, the more philosophical, because the contradic- 
tion to common-sense is less shocking in what is professedly unreal 
than in what professes to represent real things, but does so in an 
unnatural manner. Weber was impelled by a true instinct to select 
an unreal mise-ensckne, in connection with which he was not able to 
express real emotions. Oberon and flcr Freischutz are examples of 

In every drama there is a progressive history of emotion. This, 
and not the outward event, is what music is fitted to express, and 
this truth has been seized by Germany, although in a spirit of com- 
promise. In the Italian school the music is nothing but a series of 
situations strung together by flimsy orchestration and conventional 
recitatives, as in the Sonnambula. 

In the German and Franco-German schools of Weber, Meyer- 
beer, and Gounod the orchestra is busy throughout developing the 
history of the emotions. The recitatives are as important as the 
arias, and the orchestral interludes as important as the recitatives. 
Wagner, in his anxiety to reduce the importance of situations and 
exalt that of emotions, bereaves us of almost all rounded melody in 
the Lohengrin. Weber in Oberou works out his choruses like 
classical movements, almost independently of situations. Meyerbeer 
greatly reduces the importance of his arias in the ProphMe ; and 
Gounod in Faust runs such a power of orchestration through the 

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48 The Contemporary Review. 

whole opera, that not even the passionate scene in the garden can 
reduce the instruments which explain its emotional elements to a 
secondary importance. 

In spite of all drawbacks, it is not difficult to see why the opera 
does, and probably will for some time, retain its popularity. The 
public in all ages are children, and are led like children. Let one 
person clap, and others are sure to follow. Let but a clown laugh, 
and the whole house will giggle. A long drama is a little dull 
without music ; much music is a little dull without scenery. Mix 
the two, in however unreasoning a manner, and the dull or intel- 
lectual element in each is kept out of sight, and will be swallowed 
unsuspiciously. It is the old story of the powder in the jam. 

We say nothing against music being associated with situations, 
as in the Midsummer Night 9 8 Dream, or as in an oratorio. It is only 
when music is made part of the situation that it is misapplied. Let 
the event be in all cases left to the imagination; but if it be expressed, 
then the more imaginative and suggestive the expression, the less the 
violence done to common-sense. The cantata and oratorio are the 
forms which with some modification will probably prevail over the 
opera. When Mr. Santley appears in Exeter Hall as Elijah, in a 
tail coat and white kid gloves, no one is offended, and every one is 
impressed, because he does not pretend to reproduce the situation, 
but merely to paint in words and music its appropriate emotion, 
leaving the rest to be supplied by the imagination of the audience. 
But let Mr. Santley put on a earner s-hair shirt, and appear other- 
wise in the wild and scanty raiment of the Hebrew prophet, — let 
him sing inside a pasteboard cave, or declaim from the summit of a 
wooden Carmel, and our reverence is gone — our very emotions at 
the sublime music are checked by the farcical unreality of the whole 

The other night we were discussing with Herr Rubinstein a 
favourite plan of his to put the whole of Genesis on the stage with 
sacred music, when the poet, Mr. Browning, who was present, 
observed, that Englishmen's traditional sense of reverence for the 
Bible stories would not suffer them to witness its scenes brought 
before the footlights. This is perfectly true. But why is it so ? 
Because the more strongly we feel the importance of a story, the 
less can we bear to see it presented in a perfectly irrational manner, 
such as opera presentation must always be. 

Mr. Costa is the most popular conductor in England. ^Without 
putting forward, as far as we know, any definite theories on the subject 
of romantic and classical music, he has accepted facts and done the 
best that could be done for the opera and the concert-room. To 
Signor Arditi's knowledge of stage effect, he unites a breadth of 

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Music in England. 49 

conception, a wide sympathy, and a powerful physique, which 
enables him to undertake, and to carry through, oratorios on a scale 
hitherto unknown. 

The dramatic gifts and sensational effects which are almost out 
of place in Exeter Hall, are all needed in coping with the extended 
space and the multitudinous band and chorus of the Handel 
orchestra. Mr. Costa is felt to be the only man equal to such a task. 
On these occasions the fewer solos the better, and the summer opera 
concerts are altogether a mistake. The Israel in Egypt is the only 
thing which is of the slightest use under the central transept. Even 
Mendelssohn's choruses are thrown away. No one heeds the in- 
tricate arabesque work of the violins and subtle counterpoint of the 
wind. The crowded scores of modern composers were never intended 
for, and should never be produced before, giant audiences. But 
still less should great singers tear themselves to pieces simply in 
contending with space. Mr. Sims Beeves at the Crystal Palace is no 
better than a penny trumpet in Westminster Abbey. 

We might be expected here to notice the various societies of 
sacred music, but the subject is too wide, embracing ecclesiastical 
music generally, and we cannot now enter upon it. We may, how- 
ever, observe in passing, the popular progress made in this depart- 
ment. The people during the past year, for the first time in England, 
have listened to shilling oratorios, at the Agricultural Hall in the 
East, and at St. George's Hall in the West End of London. And 
who cannot bear joyful witness to the change that has passed over the 
choirs of churches and chapels during the last twenty years ? 

Music is thus approaching in England to what it has ever been 
in Germany — a running commentary upon all life, the solace of a 
nation's cares, the companion of its revelry, the minister of its plea- 
sure, and the inspired aid to its devotion. 


If we now enter for a moment the music-halls of the metropolis, 
we shall notice that the happy change is extending downwards. 
The members of our cathedral choirs do not disdain to produce before 
these once despised, and it must be confessed, sometime equivocal audi- 
ences, the part-songs of Mendelssohn and the ballads of Schubert. 

In the better class establishments whole evenings pass without 
anything occurring on the stage to offend the delicacy of a lady ; 
whilst, if we go lower, we shall find the penny gaffs, and public- 
house concerts, coarse, it may be, but on the whole moral, and 
contrasting most favourably with anything of the kind in France.* 

• See two admirable essays on " Art and Popular Amusement," in " Views and 
Opinions," by that ingenious writer, Matthew Browne* 

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50 The Contemporary Review. 

There is one other branch of strictly popular music which seems to 
be considered beneath the attention of serious critics ; but nothing 
popular should be held beneath the attention of thoughtful people — 
we allude to the Negro Melodists now represented by the Christy 
Minstrels. About twenty years ago a band of enthusiasts, some 
black by nature, others by art, invaded our shores, bringing with 
them what certainly were nigger bones and banjos, and what pro- 
fessed to be negro melodies. The sensation which they produced 
was legitimate, and their success was well deserved. The first 
melodies were no doubt curious and original ; they were the offspring 
of the naturally musical organization of the negro as it came in con- 
tact with the forms of Americo-European melody. The negro mind, at 
work upon civilized music, produces the same kind of tiling as the 
negro mind at work upon Christian theology. The product is not 
to be despised. The negro's religion is singularly childlike, plain- 
tive, and emotional. It is also singularly distinct and characteristic. 
Both his religion and his music arise partly from his impulsive 
nature, and partly from his servile condition. The negro is more 
really musical than the Englishman. If he has a nation emerging 
into civilization, his music is national Until very lately, as his 
people are one in colour, so were they one in calamity, and singing 
often merrily with the tears wet upon his ebony cheek, no record of 
his joy or sorrow is unaccompanied by a cry of melody or a wail 
of plaintive and harmonious melancholy. If we could divest our- 
selves of prejudice, the songs that float down the Ohio river are 
one in feeling and character with the songs of the Hebrew cap- 
tives by the waters of Babylon. We find in them the same 
tale of bereavement and separation, the same irreparable sorrow, 
the same simple faith and childlike adoration, the same pas- 
sionate sweetness, like music in the night. As might have been 
supposed, the parody of all this, gone through at St. James's Hall, does 
not convey much of the spirit of genuine negro melody, and the manu- 
facture of national music carried on briskly by sham niggers in Eng- 
land is as much like the original article as a penny woodcut is like a 
line engraving. Still, such as it is, the entertainment is popular, and 
yet bears some impress of its peculiar and romantic origin. The 
scent of the roses may be said to hang round it still. We cherish 
no malignant feeling towards those amiable gentlemen at St. James's 
Hall, whose ingenious fancy has painted them so much blacker than 
they really are, and who not unfrequently betray their lily-white 
nationality through a thin though sudorific disguise; we admit 
both their popularity and their skill ; but we are bound to say 
that we miss even in such pretty tunes as " Beautiful Star," 
and such tremendous successes as "Sally, come up," the distinc- 

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Music in England. 5 r 

tive charm and original pathos which characterised " Mary Blane n 
and " Lucy Neal." 

We cannot close without alluding to one other class of music. 

As opera is the most irrational and unintellectual form of music, 
so that class of cabinet music called stringed quartetts is the most 
intellectual. The true musician enters as it were the domestic 
sanctuary of music, when he sits down to listen to, or to take part 
in, a stringed quartett. The time has gone by when men like 
Lord Chesterfield could speak of a fiddler with contempt. Few 
people would now inquire with the languid fop, "what fun 
there is in four fellows sitting opposite each other for hours and 
scraping catgut ; " most people understand that in this same process 
the cultivated musician finds the most precious opportunities for 
quiet mental analysis and subtle contemplation. 

The greatest masters wrote their choicest thoughts in this form — it 
is one so easily commanded and so satisfying. The three varieties ' 
of the same instrument — violin, viola, and violincello — all possessing 
common properties of sound, but each with its own peculiar quality, 
embrace an almost unlimited compass, and an equally wide sphere of 
musical expression. 

The quartett is a musical microcosm, and is to the symphony 
what a vignette in water-colours is to a large oil-painting. The 
great quartett writers are certainly Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. 
Haydn is the true model. He attempts nothing which four violins 
cannot do ; the parts are exquisitely distributed, scrupulous justice is 
done to each instrument, and the form is perfect. Mozart's quartett 
is equally perfect, as such, but much bolder and more spontaneous. 
^Beethoven carried quartett writing, as he did every other branch 
of music, into hitherto untrodden regions, but, with the sure instinct 
of the most balanced of all geniuses, never into inappropriate ones. 
Fascinating as are the quartetts of Spohr and Mendelssohn, as 
quartetts we are bound to place them below the above great models. 
Spohr seldom distributed his parts fairly ; it is usually first violin 
with stringed accompaniment. Mendelssohn constantly forgets the 
limits of the legitimate quartett ; orchestral effects are constantly 
being attempted, and we pine at intervals for a note on the horn, 
whilst the kettledrum is not unfrequently suggested. Schubert can 
wander on for ever with four instruments, or with anything else — 
mellifluous, light-hearted, melancholy, fanciful by turns. When he 
gets half-way through, there is no reason why he should not leave 
off, and when he gets to the end there is no reason why he should 
not go on. But in this process form and unity are often both lo3t. 


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52 The Contemporary Review. 

The characteristics of Schumann require separate attention. Under 
the general heading of quartett music would be comprised the addi- 
tion of the pianoforte in trios, quartette, and quintetts ; as also the 
addition of a horn, a flute, or clarionet, in sestetts and octetts. 
Variety is always pleasant, but none of these combinations equal the 
stringed quartett in beauty of form or real power and balance of 
expression. The piano in a trio will eke out a good deal, but it 
usually results in the strings accompanying the piano, or the piano 
accompanying the strings. Mendelssohn's two trios are small orchestral 
whirlwinds, and quite unique, but the form might be seriously 

On the other hand, one feels the pianoforte in a quartett, or even a 
quintett, as a kind of interloper — a sort of wasp in a bee-hive — 
a sort of cuckoo in a hedge-sparrow's nest. One would rather see 
the natural bird there ; one would rather have the second violin in 
its place. Again, in octetts and sestetts, splendid as are some of these 
compositions, we feel the orchestral form is the one aimed at, and 
consequently the poverty of the adopted one is constantly making 
itself felt. Space compels us to speak most generally and without 
even necessary qualification on these points, and we pass on to the 
quartett playing that has of late years come before the public. 

Mysterious quartetts in back rooms and retired country-houses 
becoming more and more frequent, the experiment of public 
quartetts was at last made ; but they were to be for the few. The 
Musical Union under Mr. Ella was the first society which provided 
this luxury every season. It soon met with a formidable rival in 
the quartett concerts at "Willis's Booms, under Messrs. Sainton, Hill, 
Piatti, and Cooper. But the man and the hour were still to come. 
The concerts were too select and too expensive. Mr. Chappell flew to 
the rescue with a chosen band of heroes, foremost amongst whom must 
alwuys stand M. Joachim. 

M. Joachim is the greatest living violinist ; no man is so nearly 
to the execution of music what Beethoven was to its com- 
position. There is something massive, complete, and unerring 
about M. Joachim that lifts him out of the list of great living players, 
and places him on a pedestal apart. Other men have their speciali- 
ties ; he has none. Others rise above or fall below themselves ; he is 
always himself, neither less nor more. He wields the sceptre of his 
bow with the easy royalty of one born to reign ; he plays Beethoven's 
concerto with the rapt infallible power of a seer delivering his 
oracle, and he takes his seat at a quartett very much like Apollo 
entering Lis chariot to drive the horses of the sun. 

The second violin of the usual Monday Popular quartett is nerr 
Hies, masterly and unobtrusive. The tenor, Mr. Blagrove, who, 

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Music in England. 53 

though an admirable first violin and a great orchestral leader, knows 
how to shine anywhere, adorns the post of primo tenore occupied 
by the late lamented Mr. Hill. Signor Piatti, the only violoncello 
the public can bear to listen to as long as he lives, completes the best 
cast ever heard in England. 

Other players constantly appear of various merits. Lotto, Wil- 
helmg, and Strauss are the best substitutes which have been pro- 
vided for the great Wieniawski. Why Mr. Carrodus has never been 
selected we are at a loss to conjecture. His late performances have 
been quite remarkable enough to justify a trial. 

Mr. Charles Halle* is usually seated at the piano, and as long as he 
is there the presence of a master is felt and acknowledged by all. 

For one shilling any one can get a seat at these concerts, where 
he can hear perfectly, and enjoy the finest classical music played 
in the finest style. 

The crowded and attentive audience which assembles every Monday 
night throughout the season at St. James's Hall is the latest and most 
decisive proof of the progress of music in England. When an 
audience numbering some thousands is so easily and frequently found, 
it matters little where it comes from. No doubt many connoisseurs 
are there, but many others also attend who have cultivated, and are 
cultivating, a general taste for certain higher forms of music, 
hitherto almost unknown in England. 

We hail the omen. We believe that every branch of art has a 
high mission of its own in the constant regeneration of society. We 
believe that so great a power as music cannot remain for any length 
of time inactive — must either become the minister of degraded taste 
and feeling, or a lamp of life and the pure recreator of the human 

H. R. Haweis. 

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HPHERE are many objections to the title which I have placed at 
-** the head of this essay. I wish I could have found a better. 
But the phrase Irish Church is ambiguous. You would all under- 
stand me to mean the Church which is in communion with the 
Church of England. But you might not like to think that that 
Church, by its very nature, excluded the Irish Romanists. You 
might not like me to say that this Anglo-Irish Church, being Pro- 
testant, is not a branch of the Catholic Church. You might not like 
me to say that, if it is a branch of the Catholic Church, it can be 
destroyed by the votes of the British Parliament. At all events, I 
should not like to maintain any of these propositions. I therefore 
resort to the phrase Irish Church- or Irish Protestant-Establishment. 
The words are familiar to us. They are used by statesmen and 
writers of newspapers of all schools — by men who scarcely agree on 
any political or religious question. If some confusions attach to 
them, we may hope that, in the course of discussion, their meaning 
may become clearer. 

One perplexity does attach to the phrase Establishment or Esta- 

• This essay was read to a society of clergymen in November, 1866. The allusions 
in it to the events of that year have not been altered, nor have I added any reference to 
the alleged opinions of the Irish Bishops on the subject of endowments. No recent 
events or controversies have, I think, affected tho principles which I have endeavoured 
to assert. 

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The Irish Church Establishment. 55 

blished Church, which, I think, this application of it will help to 
remove. It is often supposed to be synonymous with the phrase 
National Church. " The Catholic Church," we are often told, " has 
a divine foundation. It stands on an imperishable rock. The moment 
the idea of a Nation mingles with it, we find ourselves in the midst 
of temporal arrangements, pecuniary provisions, claims of dominion 
by secular rulers." I hold this opinion to be utterly at variance 
with historical evidence. But it has taken such root, even in the 
minds of thoughtful and serious men, that I could not hope to shake 
it merely by producing this evidence. We need some striking, pal- 
pable instance in which it is impossible to treat these two expressions 
as identical, before we can hope effectually to exhibit the difference 
between them. Such an instance Ireland offers. Search the world 
over, and you will scarcely find an example of a more splendid 
establishment than the one which the English Sovereign and Parlia- 
ment set up for the furtherance of the Protestant religion in that 
country. It is an establishment which appeals to our sympathies as 
supporters of the reformed faith, as members of the Saxon race, as 
zealous for the conversion and civilization of a race which we con- 
sider inferior to ours. But will any one venture to speak of this 
establishment as a National Church ? Whatever else it may be, it is 
not that. Whatever titles it may have to our reverence, whatever 
great work it may be doing, we cannot bestow that name upon it 
without being conscious of an absurdity and a contradiction. 

If we clear ourselves of this impression, we shall, I think, do much 
greater justice to the Protestantism which we profess, and be much 
better able to judge whether the machinery of the Irish Establish- 
ment is likely to aid it or to injure it. 

Hie Protest of the sixteenth century was against a hierarchy which 
professed to bind all Christendom in one ; which really trampled upon 
the existence of each distinct nation of Christendom. It was a 
protest on behalf of the sacredness of the national languages against 
that which assumed to be the proper language of worship, and of the 
divine oracles. It was a protest for German life, Swiss life, Nether- 
land life, English life, Scotch life, against a universal system which 
was crushing life in every one of its manifestations. It was no protest 
against divine government or order, but for divine government and 
order. It said, " The divine government has been superseded by the 
government of priests. We appeal from them to the righteous Lord 
whom they profess to serve, and who they pretend has left the Church 
and the universe to their keeping." The Reformers were not setting 
up secular rule; they conceived that no rule was so utterly and 
emphatically secular as the Papal. In attaching themselves to their 
own sovereigns when they refused to acknowledge the supremacy of 

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56 The Contemporary Review. 

Christ's Vicar, they were returning to the authority of Christ Him- 
self ; they were recognising Him as the King of kings and Lord of 
lords. So far as secularity is associated, not with dominion, but with 
money, they were even more consciously and directly at war with 
secularity. The Reformation began with denouncing the most horrible 
of all sacrifices that had been made, or could be made, at the shrine of 
Mammon ; and the testimony against the sale of indulgences was 
only an example and prophecy of the warfare with the nepotism, 
simony, practical unbelief in any power but gold, which had its 
centre in the Court of Rome, and which had infected the ecclesiastical 
system of every country. 

This fight for the existence of nations, for the actual dominion 
of God, for spiritual force against the force of money, was carried on 
successfully or unsuccessfully in all the nations of Europe. It is 
the struggle of Coligny against the power of the Guise faction and 
the French Court, of William of Orange against Philip II., of John 
Knox against Mary Stuart. In every one of these cases it is the 
conflict of weakness against physical strength. When the weakness is 
greatest, as in Holland and Scotland, the victory is most decisive. 
In England the circumstances are different. The monarch ultimately 
leads the battle against the Pope. But he leads because he repre- 
sents the nation. His protest, more strictly than that of the German 
princes after the Diet of Spiers, is a national protest. When under 
Edward VI. Protestantism assumes a dogmatic shape, it loses its 
moral strength and vitality. They can only be recovered by a period of 
downfall and persecution. Protestantism reappears under a sovereign 
who cares little about opinions, who rather dislikes the opinions 
which bear the Protestant stamp, but who is determined to protest 
on behalf of her own authority, and is obliged to make that protest one 
on behalf of her people. Protestantism under Elizabeth was in the 
strictest sense English — a struggle for England against the Catholic 
league and the Society of Jesus. The arguments of divines against 
Papal doctrines went for very little, except so far as they appealed 
to the heart of the people against what they felt to be a system of 
foreign tyranny — a tyranny which kept them from trusting in the 
God of their fathers. 

That being the case in this age, one feels what an enormous change 
is made in the substance of Protestantism, its accidents remaining 
the same, when it is used as an instrument for subjecting the Irish 
to the yoke of England. 

I would not speak lightly of the many arguments which may have 
induced the statesmen and the divines in the age of Elizabeth to look 
upon this work both as a political necessity and as a moral and religious 
duty. There were tribes in Ireland which England through the 

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The Irish Church Establishment. 57 

whole Plantagenet period had been seeking to bring into some order — 
which were still turbulent. They were evidently open to spiritual 
influences. Learning had flourished among them. It was Law that 
they resisted ; the worth of that they appeared unable to appreciate. 
Home had often interfered to bring their clergy into ecclesiastical 
order and something like moral discipline, apparently with little 
success. But Ireland might be used as one of the Jesuit instruments 
for disturbing or recovering England. What plan so plausible as 
to establish the Anglican religion by the side of the Anglican 
Government, to counteract the influences of the native Celtic priest- 
hood by men who would preach obedience to Law and Government, 
to counteract the effects of the Romish hierarchy by a more wealthy 
hierarchy working in harmony with the Court and Parliament of 
Westminster? What conversions might not be wrought by the 
splendour of such an establishment ! It must have seemed to prudent 
and practical people a simple, or perhaps a double, rule of three sum. 
If Scotland had been revolutionized in the course of a few years by 
the efforts of a few poor men, in what space of time might Ireland 
be revolutionized if the force of England were devoted to the task 
of giving it a Protestant character? At the beginning of the 
century a great portion of the lands of Scotland were in the hands 
of ecclesiastics. All their power was gone. The country was now 
governed to a great extent by the Presbyterian ministers ; the nobles 
bowed to their yoke if they demanded a portion of the spoils which 
had been torn from the old hierarchy. The Celt had a less stubborn, 
more impressible nature than the Lowland Scot. He was not at 
all less open to arguments from self-interest. If he perceived 
that Protestantism was really in the ascendant, if it took an 
imposing form, one appealing to both his imagination and his 
covetousness, why should he not accept it, and so become a dutiful 
servant of the English Crown P Why should not the settlers and 
the natives under this fusing power become really one people ? 

Beautiful calculations! Irresistible arithmetic! How puzzling 
to all wise men who believe in Money as the Lord of the Universe 
that they should have been utterly disappointed for three centuries ! 
The Celtic race has not fallen ; Protestantism has not triumphed. 
We have to ask ourselves in the reign of Victoria, just as men asked 
themselves in the reign of Elizabeth, If the triumph is desirable, 
how is it to be achieved ? How can the faith which has done so 
much to make us a nation ever become the faith of Ireland ? Or 
supposing the object be not the religious one of conversion, but the 
political one of attaching to England the inhabitants of a country 
which is in closest proximity to it, by which it is affected for weal 
or woe in so many points, how may that attachment be secured ? 

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58 7*he Contemporary Review. 

In trying to answer these questions, or rather to find out how they 
are likely to be answered for us, I would speak first of the experi- 
ment of these three centuries in Ireland itself; then of the illustra- 
tion which the subject receives from the circumstances of Scotland ; 
then of the degree in which the fortune of the English Church is 
linked with the fortunes of the Irish Protestant Establishment ; 
finally, of the probable effects on Protestantism, and on the Church 
generally, if that Establishment shall cease to exist. 

I. In reference to the first point, we cannot say that the experi- 
ment of establishing a religion in a country which professes one that 
is hostile to it has not been fairly made. There has been a succession 
of Anglo-Irish rulers, each of whom has brought some wisdom of his 
own to the solution of the problem— -each of whom has had some 
lessons from the failure of his predecessors. If there has been a 
sad monotony in the story, there is also a variety in the schemes 
which have been tried and in the instruments which have worked 
them. There has been coercion, there has been conciliation ; bishops 
have been sent over who have devoted themselves ably and un- 
scrupulously to the English interest ; bishops have been sent over 
who merely cared about their own interests ; bishops have been sent 
over who had deeply at heart the interest of the Irish people and 
of the Church of God. If Protestant Ireland has had some of the 
worst bishops to be found in any country, it has also had some of 
the best ; names that are dear to English theology, to English 
literature, to English philosophy, stand out in the list. Usher, 
Taylor, Berkeley — can one easily find parallels to these in our own 
episcopacy, or in any episcopacy of the world ? The succession is 
not broken ; the Ireland of the nineteenth century has had its full 
share of accomplished, generous, devout fathers in God. And the 
result is, what ? If next to nothing for the Celtic population, for 
the Irish as such, something surely, it will be said, for the English 
settlers. Unfortunately, if you find them at the moment when their 
Protestant zeal and courage are at the highest pitch, it will be of 
Cromwell and his sweeping measures that they will speak ; it will 
be the immortal memory of the Dutch Calvinist that they will toast. 
To these, and not to the establishment with which neither of them 
was surely in much sympathy, the Orangeman traces his descent. 
The utmost which that establishment can boast is that it has done a 
little at certain times to curb his fury, to keep him from darting 
with sharpened teeth and claws against the foes of his holy religion. 
And yet how questionable is even this boast ! How many of the 
clergy have whetted rather than soothed this fierceness! What 
denunciations there have been against the want of heart, the cowardly 
compromises, of those who have interfered to abate it ! The examples 

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The Irish Church Establishment. 59 

of meekness and charity which have been presented by some on the 
bench have seemed to be — of course they have not really been — 
thrown away ; every word which has gone forth from it against the 
doctrines that are accepted by the majority of the land has been a . 
warrant for doing some violent deeds in defence of our own. I do 
not undervalue the real strength and energy of the Orangeman ; I 
am sure he has qualities which might be directed to noble ends. 
I only lament that he has not found the director ; that he has to be 
restrained by the sword of the civil magistrate from hurting his 
fellows ; that the parsons have no voice to keep him from falling 
into the barbarities of the race which he scorns, and which it is his 
business to elevate. There are some who do not believe that the 
Bomanists are to be put down by violence — who are eager by all 
means to convert them. On such men one might hope that the 
influences of the Establishment would operate beneficially. If 
Hume's plea for religious establishments has any weight whatever, 
we should expect to find the proselytizer more calm and wise, less 
fanatical, in a country where he has a great force of material wealth 
on his side than where he goes forth unprotected to defy an adver- 
sary in high places. I believe the experience of every person who 
walks through the streets of Dublin will overthrow that anticipation. 
He will read placards on the walls challenging Roman Catholics to 
come forward to prove the truth of such or such an ecclesiastical 
miracle ; offering rewards of ten or twenty pounds if they can con- 
vince a meeting called together for the purpose of turning it into 
ridicule. There may be numbers of the proselytizing clergy and 
laity who would disclaim such brutal appeals to the worst tempers of 
a people as these — such attempts to build up Protestantism on the 
destruction of reverence ; but they illustrate a habit and tone of 
feeling which a learned Christian establishment that has lasted three 
hundred years has not availed to cure. And till it is cured, while Pro- 
testantism goes forth with such weapons, I do not see how we can 
wish it success. It is not that one laments the use of bad means 
for a good end ; the end must be as bad as the means. A conversion 
so effected is a conversion to the devil, and not to God. 

That is what I meant when I said that the substance of Protest- 
antism is changed when it takes the form which it has taken in Ireland. 
Prom being national, it becomes anti-national ; from being a witness 
against secularity, it learns to rest upon wholly secular influences — 
that of money thrusting itself in even unconsciously, even ridiculously, 
as in the instance of the offer about the miracle, because the reve- 
rence for it is so profound, because no other power is felt to be so 
effectual for spiritual objects. Finally (which is the root of all the 
other mischiefs), instead of being a witness for God against all 

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60 The Contemporary Review. 

religious schemes and devices of men, Protestantism becomes a rival 
religion to a more popular religion, with which it is to struggle with 
fair arms or foul till one destroys the other, or only the smallest 
remnant is left of either. 

The quotient, then, from the rule of three sum has turned out to 
be nil. How has that happened ? Since it rested on the results of 
the Scotch Reformation, let us next turn to those. 

II. Protestantism in Scotland was a direct appeal to the national 
heart ; a direct assertion that the nation is not a secular body, as the 
Romanist affirmed it to be, but a body formed by God, and upholden 
by Him. There was its strength from the beginning ; this has been 
the secret of its strength in all generations since. It held much 
more to the Old Testament than to the New, because the Old Testa- 
ment is occupied with the history and life of a nation. It was, to a 
degree in which English Protestantism never was, anti- Catholic. A 
universal Church might sometimes occur to John Knox or to the 
Covenanter of the next century as a possible dream ; it never was 
part of his actual conscious faith. Scotland was to be a godly 
Nation. It lived to denounce Popery and Prelacy. It lived to pro- 
claim a Kirk of which Christ was the only King. Of course that 
Kirk, with its machinery, soon became the most sacred of all things 
in the eyes of those that belonged to it. To establish the Kirk in 
England, to reduce that country to the Presbyterian model, was the 
great duty of godly men. A time came when there seemed to be a 
possibility of fulfilling that duty. The Westminster Assembly, having 
the ground well cleared of bishops, could set up the Scotch system. 
It was a wonderfully Protestant system, but it had unfortunately no 
hold upon the national mind of England. The Independent rebelled 
against it ; Cromwell saw in it a miserable attempt to realize the 
Covenant by destroying the very principle of the Covenant ; Milton 
found it odious tyranny. The Restoration came. One test had been 
afforded of the feasibility of any experiment to establish a system 
which does not appeal to the national feeling but sets it at nought. 
Charles II. was to supply another. Acting on the maxims of his 
father and grandfather, he would establish Episcopacy in Scotland. 
He would, but he could not. He, too, sent able, even saintly, bishops 
to the reluctant land. He had the armies of Claverhouse. The one 
were as ineffectual as the other. Why they should fail was a problem 
which neither the wits nor the divines of the Court could solve. That 
they did fail was a fact which could not be gainsaid by either. When 
the Revolution came, that fact and many other facts were recognised. 
The recognition might, perhaps, have been a more frank one. The 
old Cameronians protested against all compromise. The principle 
for which they had fought, they said, forbade any acceptance of 

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The Irish Church Establishment. 6 1 

grants from the State — everything that made their direct allegiance 
to Christ ambiguous. Such a position struck the statesmen as dan- 
gerous. One cannot blame them for thinking it so, or for trying to 
make a Concordat with the ecclesiastics. Nevertheless, I think they 
might have been wiser if they had suffered the Scotch people to work 
out the problem for themselves, interfering with them no further 
than to secure the toleration of all Episcopalians and others who 
dissented from their communion. By such a course they might have 
avoided some later controversies, especially the one which has so 
much puzzled and tormented them in our days. They would have 
left the consciences of the Scotch a greater freedom ; they would have 
avoided certain perplexities and anomalies which often disturb the 
minds of Englishmen. However, it is easy to make these remarks 
after the events. The course actually taken, if not the best possible, 
at least had the great merit of terminating a course of policy which 
was vain and hopeless ; the union of legislatures, accepted by the 
last of the Stuarts, was a confession that the efforts of her predecessors 
to form a united Church had been abortive ; that bishops and a liturgy 
could not be] thrust upon a nation which saw no meaning in them, 
by a legislature. With all the defects of that union in itself, and in 
the methods by which it was accomplished, it certainly had the effect, 
by its omissions even more than by its enactments, of preserving 
Scotland through two rebellions. One can hardly imagine how much 
the opposition to the Pretender would have been weakened if there 
had been an alien establishment in the midst of the land. The Pro- 
testants would then have been divided ; the attachment of the High- 
lander to his Prince and his own religious traditions would have 
overborne their feeble resistance ; English armies might have been 
sent in vain. 

Such are the lessons which I derive from Scottish history. If 
they are fairly deduced, they corrobate very decidedly the evidence 
which arises from our Irish experience. 

HI. But if we give full weight to this evidence, are we not 
endangering the English Establishment ? Is there any logical dis- 
tinction between our circumstances and those of our brethren on the 
other side of St. George's Channel ? If their edifice falls, can ours 
stand ? This is the next point which I propose to consider. 

We are assuredly to apply no maxim to our neighbours of which 
we will not endure the full application ourselves. All I have said 
is not a condemnation of our neighbours, but of ourselves. The Irish 
Establishment is an English work. It is an attempt of the English 
National Church to extend itself beyond the limits of England, to 
impose itself upon another race. That attempt, I think, has failed 
in Ireland as it failed in Scotland. It has failed because the National 

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6 z The Contemporary Review. 

Church has assumed a position which is not national. Say, if you 
please, that you cannot discern a nation in Ireland, that the Celts 
never have been one, that the Saxons never have been one ; that 
they cannot, therefore, make one together. You may be right ; but 
that proves, I think, that the Anglo-Irish Establishment has accom- 
plished no end which justifies its existence. If it has not called forth 
a nation out of these elements, if they are still distracted, warring 
elements, if secret societies of Ribbonmen and Orangemen have suc- 
ceeded to the clans and septs of other days, what has the Church 
done, what proof has it given that it possesses the functions and 
powers of a Church ? 

In this respect it stands in the most direct contrast to the body 
with which it is in fellowship. The English Church has passed 
through many vicissitudes, has fallen under many tyrannies, has 
been guilty of many crimes. But from the day that the Roman 
monks first sang their litanies in the Isle of Thanet, there grew 
up in our country a spiritual force which appealed to the sense of 
domestic order and of royal authority, that had dwelt beside the most 
turbulent passions in the mind of the Saxon. It went on to fuse 
the different warring tribes into a common England. The Church 
having become weak and corrupt in the eleventh century, felt 
the crushing power of the Norman ecclesiastics as well as of the 
Norman princes. But the better ecclesiastics of the conquering 
race became themselves helpers in the elevation of the lower race ; 
by degrees the Saxon life came forth in new vigour ; the secular 
clergy, the parsons of the towns, representing it, as the dignified 
clergy represented the Norman ascendency, as the monks and friars 
represented the Latin Bishop. Those opposing influences worked 
together for the formation of a people. At the Reformation it came 
forth asserting through the sovereign its own dignity, disclaiming 
any foreign jurisdiction, vindicating lay tribunals and lay legisla- 
tion, not as the concession of a religious principle, but as necessary 
to the support of it. The Puritan element, the Roman Catholic 
element, working in the midst of the nation, each on different 
grounds suspected the Church so far as it was national ; each in 
different ways contributed to make it more national ; each in dif- 
ferent ways testified that besides being national, it must be a portion 
of a larger society. Whenever it has given itself the airs of an 
earthly establishment, standing upon its wealth and its fashionable 
supporters, it has been reminded by some great movement like that 
of Wesley and Whitefield how feeble these supports are, how neces- 
sary a condition of a church it is that it shall have a voice which 
shall reach the least wealthy, the least fashionable. Whenever it 
has assumed to be an exclusive society, the champion of a rival reli- 

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The Irish Church Establishment. 63 

gion to the religion of the Puritans or the Romanists, it has had to 
bear shocks from both, to find itself weaker than both. Here are 
tokens, it seems to me, of a society which God has established, and 
not man, which is always liable to forget the ground of its own 
strength, the bond which unites it to the whole land, but which has 
been again and again brought to repent, and to claim its true position 
and dignity. 

IY. So I pass from considerations drawn from the history of the 
past to the possibilities of the future. There I, of course, am bound 
to speak with much more hesitation. If I were forced, in my igno- 
rance of Ireland, to offer any plans for the cure of its anomalies, my 
presumption would soon be exposed by those who have lived in it, and 
who know how complicated and deeply seated those anomalies are. 
No plans that I have heard of commend themselves to my conscience 
or judgment, though I am satisfied that we learn something from 
every suggestion proceeding from any honest or able man. The 
proposal to use the funds of the Church for purposes of education 
changes the name of the difficulty— does not lessen the reality of it. 
Education is just now the battle-field between the two parties. The 
proposal to endow the Irish priest, i.e. to have two establishments 
instead of one, seems to me not more satisfactory. It is defended 
on the ground of justice to a majority. It could not be accepted 
by the majority as justice. It is defended on the plea that it will 
make the priests loyal. The disloyal priests would probably find 
their interest in declining it, and appealing to their flocks against it. 
Those who became the State pensioners would be those upon whose 
allegiance you could depend already. I apprehend this scheme would 
shock the consciences of English and Irish Protestants ; would not at 
all conciliate English or Irish Romanists. I may be quite wrong ; but 
while I hold this opinion, and that also which I have already 
expressed respecting the precedent in Scotland, I certainly could 
never urge this as a way of breaking the fall of the Protestant 
Establishment. I look upon that fall as inevitable. How it will 
take place I can as little divine as any one of us could have divined 
six months ago how Venice was to break loose from Austria, how 
the amazing physical force of the Quadrilateral was to collapse. The 
argumentum ad hominem, " You do not see your way/' is not an argu- 
mentum ad Deum. This is not a year in which we can safely venture 
predictions about events. But it is a year in which one may affirm, 
with more than usual resolution and constancy, that what has not a 
foundation in the nature of things and the order of God, by whatever 
power it is upheld, whatever plausible reasons may be alleged for its 
continuance, will come to nought. It is a year in which, more than 
in most years, one is led to meditate on the divine vitality of nations, 

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64 The Contemporary Review. 

and the peril of using any plea, ecclesiastical or other, for keeping 
them in death. It is a year in which Protestants should feel a par- 
ticular dread of leaving Romanists a pretext for the charge that we 
only talk about the sacredness of national life, when we want to find 
opportunities for attacking it. I am not sorry, certainly, that their 
logic should be spoiled, and their hearts warmed, by their interest for 
Poland and Ireland ; I am not sorry that those of them who hate 
nationality, as most Romish prelates do, should be obliged in these 
exceptional cases to become champions of it. But I am sorry when 
Romanists like Montalembert, who do not hate national liberty — 
nay, who even love England for the sake of its national liberty — 
should be strengthened by one of these instances in their conviction 
that we owe it to anything except our Protestantism. These are 
bewildering results of the Irish Establishment. They may not be 
reasons why we should lift a hand to throw it down ; but they may 
be very good reasons for not indulging in bitter lamentation, for not 
fancying that a cause which is dear to us will suffer for the change, 
when the decree of the watchers and the holy ones goes forth, " Hew 
down the tree and cut off its branches — scatter its leaves." There 
may be, there must be, something very awful in that decree, when- 
ever it sounds in our ears, by whatever instruments it is executed. 
But it need not awaken in us any despondency. The stump will 
assuredly remain in the ground ; that which God Himself has put 
there will abide, and will germinate again. Protestantism, ceasing to 
put on its false aspect of a rival religion to Catholicism, may become 
in Ireland, as it has been in England, the witness against that which 
has destroyed Catholicism. The Anglo-Irish minister of the Gospel 
may remind the Romanist that his Credo and his Paternoster are 
true and living words ; that they assert a real fellowship for him with 
the Church in Earth and in Heaven ; that the City of the Unseen 
Father is not afar off, like the City of the visible Father ; that there 
is a real entrance into it for the poorest peasant. Without artificial 
efforts to keep alive the old barbarous speech, — whatever may be the 
temporary value of it, and the wisdom of using it among those to 
whom no other is equally dear, — this common human^language will 
make itself intelligible to the human beings for whom it is intended. 
Stripped of the accessories which have caused them to be regarded as 
the emissaries of foreigners, the signs of subjection, the Bishops of 
the reformed faith may do more than civil magistrates to cultivate the 
sense of order in a race disposed to reverence priests; they may 
have a moral influence over the Saxon layman which they have 
never had while they have been chiefly regarded as witnesses of 
his superiority to those who frequent the Mass. If we may judge 
from the example of Scotland, the union between the countries will 

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The Irish Church Establishment. 65 

be more real, less precarious, when the effort to compel a religious 
union, or the appearance of one, has been given up as hopeless. 
Nay, is it not possible that the Church, coming as a messenger of 
peace and health, not of strife, may fulfil the idea of those who said 
that a mere union of legislatures could never be satisfactory, that 
there must be one of wills and affections P There has been much talk 
of our continuing the Church of St. Patrick. We may do that if 
we continue the works which tradition ascribes to St. Patrick. A 
church which goes forth healing and blessing, driving venomous 
serpents out of the land, changing brutes into men, will be recognised 
as working miracles, the same in kind as those with which the early 
evangelizers and civilizers of the Isle of Saints are credited. They 
will be miracles which will not glorify the men who perform them ; 
they will not appeal to that belief in luck which is fostered as much 
by the money charms of the nineteenth century as by the amulets 
and holy wells of the eighth. They will be received as signs from 
Him who is constant in His purposes and wonderful in His opera- 
tions, Who is the same in every age. 

F. D. Maurice. 

you vii. 

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Chip* from a German Workshop. By Mix Muixzb, Bf .A m Fellow 
of An Soak College, Oxford. London : Longman*. 1867. 

npHERE is a strange attraction, one might almost say a strange 
J- fascination, in the idea of a Science of Religion. It seems to 
offer to the perplexed inquirer a solution of the darkest and most 
difficult problem presented by the history of mankind. And yet 
it is, I believe, open to question whether the religions of the world 
are capable, in the strict sense of the word, of becoming the sub- 
ject-matter of a science. The work of science is to classify phe- 
nomena according to their true affinities; to ascertain by obser- 
vation, if possible, by experiment also, excluding or importing 
conditions the absence or the presence of which helps us to check 
the conclusions drawn from phenomena as they commonly occur, 
the laws of sequence; to refer these laws of sequence, when so 
ascertained, to some higher generalization. When its victory has 
thus been won by submission, and it presents itself as the minister 
et interpret natures, it assumes a twofold prophetic office. It sets 
before men the primal laws which have hitherto been as mysteries 
" hid from ages and generations," and points to a Divine order in 
the midst of what had seemed casual and chaotic. It looks into the 
future as with the open vision of a seer, and predicts, either, as in 
astronomy, the actual succession of phenomena in the years to come, 
or, as with most other physical sciences, the results of this or that 
combination of them. As yet, it is only as regards the great cosmical 

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Max Muller on the Science of Religion. 67 

order which surrounds us that the higher knowledge has been 
attained. We seem sometimes on the verge of reaching it in 
meteorology, and fall back baffled by the infinite complication of 
the conditions with which we have to deal, compelled to be content 
with a feeble prognostication within the narrow range of a few hours 
and a few degrees of latitude. 

But alike in the higher and in the lower stages of scientific knowledge 
we postulate or we ascertain this uniform succession of phenomena. 
We do not believe in any disturbing forces beyond those which we 
can eliminate or calculate, and in either case this disturbance ceases 
to affect the certainty of our laws or the truth of our predictions. 
Is it so likewise with the phenomena which have their source in the 
thought and will of man ? Do these too run in grooves and obey 
laws, so that here, as well as in Nature, there is an invariable succes- 
sion f Here also, from different quarters, an answer is given in 
the affirmative. Observers of the school of the late Mr. Buckle point 
to statistics of crime, marriage, population, the price of food, as show- 
ing with what constancy even the impulses that seem most capricious 
are conditioned by surrounding circumstances. The great prophet of 
the newest philosophical religion asserts, as the result of a method 
of inquiry that excludes all d priori assumption, that the nations of the 
world have passed, are passing, and must of necessity pass through 
the three stages of knowledge, theological, metaphysical, positive, 
which have become the catch-words of his system. The school 
of which Mr. Max Muller is a distinguished representative points 
with a legitimate pride to what has been achieved within the last 
half-century in linguistic studies. "Here," they say, "the task 
of Science has been accomplished. It has detected the latent affini- 
ties of languages that seemed separated from each other by im- 
passable barriers. It has traced the rivers to their source, has 
led the long-divided sisters to recognise a common parentage. It 
has ascertained, as in the case of Grimm's rule of the changes of 
consonants, and in those which govern the growth and degenera- 
tion of inflections, that variations that seemed arbitrary and unac- 
countable are governed by a law which acts uniformly. Languages 
which cannot even be referred to a common stock are seen to 
catch at the same processes of abbreviating the expression of their 
thoughts, at the same analogies between the acts and sensations of 
man's body and those of his spiritual consciousness. If it has done 
this with what is the utterance of man's thoughts in their most 
shifting and variable form, why should Science hesitate to claim 
that other region in which man's thoughts are clothed partly in 
words, partly also in acts, in the cultus of sacrifice, procession, dance, 
colours, drees, architecture, as well as in the prayer, the hymn, the 


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68 The Contemporary Review. 

legend P Does not the study of language lead the inquirer of 
necessity to those inner depths of man's life out of which speech 
and culttts have alike flowed P Does not one supply the key to the 
other P Does not philology show that myths the most grotesque or 
repulsive originated in the free action of man's imagination upon the 
facts that impressed themselves on his senses, the whiteness of dawn, 
the glow of sunset, the dew, the clouds, the showers P Does not the 
study of the religions of the world show that these myths, which we 
find in their primitive form in the Yedas of our Aryan forefathers, 
tend, alike in the Theogony of Hesiod and in the Zend-Avest&, to lose 
their rapport to the facts from which they started, to assume new 
forms, to become the sport of fancy, playful or prurient — the bases 
first of imaginative epics, and then of imaginary history P May we 
not hope to trace in like manner the genesis of all religions, the laws 
of their growth and development, the laws also of the corruption and 
decay which are not less inevitable P " 

In this spirit Mr. Max Miiller looks forward to the possibility of 
a science of religions. He reminds us of the extraordinary accumu- 
lations during the last fifty years, of " new and authentic materials 
for the study of the religions of the world," the opening to the 
scholars of Europe of the Yedas, the Zend-Avesta, the Tripitaka, the 
" canonical books of the Brahmins, the Zoroastrians, the Buddhists ; " 
the fuller knowledge which has been gained during the same periods 
of the old religious systems of Phoenicia and Carthage, and Babylon 
and Nineveh ; of the religions of Confucius, Laotse, and Buddha 
(under the scarcely recognisable form of Fo) in China. He speaks, 
indeed, as a true scholar would do, with a diffidence which contrasts 
strikingly with the dogmatism of Comte and Hegel. He doubts 
" whether the time has yet come for attempting to trace, after the 
model of the science of language, the definite outlines of the science 
of religion." (I. xi.) But he is not the less enthusiastic in his 
belief that such a science will come, and is glad to be among those 
who prepare the way for it. He claims for it, with all the fervour 
which a mediaeval thinker would have lavished on the Theology of his 
period as the " queen of sciences," a high prerogative : 

" The science of religion may be the last of the sciences which man is 
destined to elaborate ; but when it is elaborated, it will change the aspect 

of the world, and will give a new life to Christianity itself." 


"It will, for the first time, assign to Christianity its right place amon£ 
the religions of the world ; it will show, for the first time, fully wbat wad 
meant by the fulness of time ; it will restore to the whole history of the 
world, in its unconscious progress towards Christianity, its true and sacred 
character." — (I. xix., xx.) 

Mr. Max Miiller enters on his work, as these words will show, in a 

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Max Miiller on the Science of Religton. 69 

spirit of profound earnestness and reverence. He believes that to 
help men of other religions to see in their own ancient records the 
truths which Christianity recognises and embodies will make the 
" choice between Christ and other masters far more easy to many a 
troth-seeking soul." From the tendency of other religions to 
degenerate, as by a natural law, he warns the Christian teacher in 
noble words that he, too, must go back to the fountain-head of the 
truth which he professes ; that — 

" The Christianity of the nineteenth century is not the Christianity of 
the Middle Ages, that the Christianity of the Middle Ages was not that of 
the early Councils, that the Christianity of the early Councils was not that 
of the Apostles, and that what has been said by Christ, that alone was 
well said." — (L xxvi.) 

He appeals to the boldness with which Clement of Alexandria 
acknowledged that philosophy had been to the Greek as a " school- 
master," as the Law had been to Israel; and Augustine asserted that 
Plato had been a witness of the truth,* as recognising his position 
that there had been a Divine work of education going on outside the 
limits of Israel. He has learnt to count no religion, whatever may 
have been its corruptions, as, from the first and altogether, " common 
and unclean." 

There is much in all this with which, I need not say, many Christian 
thinkers must profoundly sympathize. But it holds good, I believe, 
of these generalizations, as of others that are more hasty and super- 
ficial, that while they are applicable, tnore or less, to the genesis of a 
religion as the result, in act or language, of the feelings which 
pervade a nation, and are modified by the influence of race, climate, 
intercourse with other nations, while they hold good also of the reaction 
of those feelings and influences on systems that have had another 
birth, and so help us to understand their development and their 
corruption, they fail to take into account two elements which we 
have not yet brought in any degree within the limits of ascertained 
laws. They leave out of sight (1) the influence of great men, and 
(2) the actual apocalypse of truth by the will of God to the mind 
of the seeker, f The religion of the Vedas and of the Greeks is trace- 
able to no one prophetic or philosophic mind as its creator. It 
seems to spring up, as language sprang, as by a spontaneous action 
and reaction of nature on mind, and mind on nature. It expands 
into an endless series of myths of which we know not the inventor. 

• Mr. Max Miiller might have included Justin's recognition of Socrates and Hera- 
clcitce, and men like them, as " Christians, though they were called atheists/' and even 
TertuUian's " testimonium animee naturaliter Christian®" among his witnesses. 

t It will be seen further on that Mr. Max Miiller does in one, and that a crucial 
instance, recognise both of these forces. But the question whether that recognition is 
compatible with a perfect science of religions is still open to discussion. 

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yo The Contemporary Review. 

It was not primarily the " religion of a book," as recording a real or 
professed revelation. Even Homer and Hesiod, though in one sense 
the former became almost as the Bible of the Greeks, -were but the 
late collectors of legends that had lost their life and significance, and 
were tending to depravity. The religion of the Papuas and other 
fetiche worshippers, in like manner, may be explained from the 
spontaneous action of the terror and the wonder of the savage before 
the unknown forces of the universe. But with the greater, nobler 
religions of the world, which have come across these systems, modi- 
fying or sweeping them away, or have run their course independently, 
the case has been otherwise. They have had their starting-point in the 
thoughts and struggles, often in the sufferings and death, of indi- 
vidual men. Abraham, Moses, Mohammed, Sakya Mouni, Confucius, — 
from the inquirer's point of view, we need not shrink from adding 
the Name which we hold as greater than them all, — these have been 
new elements, new forces in the world, whose rise could hot have 
been foreseen, whose orbit could not have been calculated. And 
within the limits of the religious systems which they severally repre- 
sent, personal influence, as little within the generalizations of science, 
though less startling in its results, has been mighty also in chang- 
ing and expanding. Preachers, interpreters, prophets, apostles, each, 
in like manner, with his own incommunicable personality, unlike all 
others, have brought about revolutions that have affected the creed 
and the life of millions through a long succession of ages. What 
science of religion can account for David or Isaiah, for Paul or John, 
for Athanasius or Luther P 

And yet further, it must be added, if there be in the history of 
the world's religions more than the record of the attempts of men 
to " seek after God, if haply they might feel after Him and find 
Him ; " if, over and above all the many voices with which men have 
made answer to themselves, the One Yoice has spoken "'at sundry 
times, in divers manners, to the fathers by the prophets," and to us 
" by his Son ; " if through the darkness in which men grope their 
way up the " world's great altar-stairs " a hand is stretched forth 
to guide the seekers, and bring them under the wings of God — 
then we have a series of facts so exceptional that we need more than 
the study of the records of one world to bring them at all within the 
region of ascertained law. " Nothing but the history of another 
world, seemingly in like circumstances with our own," would, as 
Butler says,* " be a parallel case." A complete inductive basis for 
the science of religion in this its higher aspect would require the 
history of many such worlds, as within its narrowest limits it requires 
the study of the religions of many races. "Without this, it must 
* Analogy, part 

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content itself with acknowledging that these two elements, the 
greatness of individual minds, and the Divine will as the giver of 
that greatness, lie beyond its ken, are forces which it can trace in 
their working, but cannot refer to any higher causation ; or else it 
must end by denying the existence of the latter, and representing 
the former as the creatures of the conditions and circumstances which 
they have changed for the better or the worse, or swept utterly away. 

Mr. Max Miiller, as we have seen, does not profess to lay down the 
outlines of such a science. He is conscious that to make the attempt 
now would be to incur an almost inevitable failure. He does what is 
far better, and gives us some of the results which have been attained 
by one who has studied the religions of mankind in the spirit of a 
scientific, and therefore devout, inquirer. We may regret that the 
work (a collection of essays and reviews printed at intervals since 
1853) should at once attract us by the writer's marvellous extent of 
knowledge, keen insight, and reverential sympathy, and disappoint us 
by the fragmentary form, and often tantalizing brevity of the articles. 
As a rule, such collections need a careful sifting and revision, and the 
absence of such a process is sure to lead sometimes to a needless 
repetition, sometimes to seeming inconsistency. In the first volume 
of these essays, e.g., the religious statistics of mankind are given no 
less than three times (pp. 23, 160, 215), and the elementary facts 
connected with the mythology of the Yedas meet us again and again, 
until they become as familiar friends. But when we recollect what 
has been the writer's main employment, that these " Chips of a 
German Workshop " represent the leisure half-hours of one whose 
day-work has been to edit and translate the Yedas, we can but look 
on them with ever-increasing admiration. As " the gleaning of the 
grapes of Ephraim" was to " the vintage of Abiezer," so are these 
" Chips" to the whole stock-in-trade of many a timber firm enjoying 
a high reputation in England, France, or Germany. 

The inquiries of which we have the result in these volumes carry 
us over the same ground as Mr. Maurice's noble and suggestive 
lectures on the Religions of the World, as the more elaborate work of 
Archdeacon Hardwick, " Christ and other Masters." They will remind 
some readers also of an able series of papers by M. Emile Burnouf 
on " La Science des Religions/' in the Revue dts Deux Mondes for 
1864. It is in some degree less complete than these in form. That 
defect is more than counterbalanced, however, by the authority which 
the writer may well claim whenever he speaks, as in the paper on Com- 
parative Mythology (reprinted from the Oxford Essays for 1856), the 
lecture on the Vedas, and the Essay on Caste, from the fulness of his 
knowledge in the region which he has made pre-eminently his own, 
and by the wide range of reading in other kindred studies which 

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enables him to place the inquirer au courant of the very latest 
researches, and of the results to which they have led. There is, too, 
we must note in passing, a refreshing contrast to the tone in which 
workers in the same field of scholarship too often speak of each other 
in the way in which Mr. Max Muller recognises the labours of those 
who get commonly but little recognition from the wide common- 
wealth of readers. When he dwells on the process by which M. 
Stanislas Jullien succeeded, after sixteen years of labour, in identi- 
fying the Sanskrit originals of Buddhist names and phrases under 
the strange disguises which they had assumed as manipulated 
by Chinese translators (Buddha appearing as Foto, Nirvana as 
Niepan, Brahma as Fanlonmo), or that by which Grotefend, Burnouf, 
Lassen, and Rawlinson have interpreted the cuneiform inscriptions 
of the Achremenian dynasty, he says, with all the glow of enthu- 
siastic sympathy, that they "deserve to be classed with the 
discoveries of a Kepler, a Newton, and a Faraday." He is hardly 
less warm in his acknowledgment of the merits of the great Zend- 
Avesta scholars, Spiegel, Westergaard, and Haug. This is, of 
course, quite compatible with the free utterance of his own judg- 
ment on points on which he finds himself at issue with other scholars, 
and some of the most interesting papers in these volumes are those 
in which he discusses such points of controversy. His historical 
instinct, e.g., leads him to protest against the hasty generalization 
with which M. Benan speaks of the Semitic race as essentially 
monotheistic (I. 341) ; against the fantastic conjectural combination 
by means of which Spiegel, identifying Arran, the name which 
appears in the Zend- AvestA as the home of Zoroaster, with the Haran, 
or Gharran of Abraham's journey, assumes the Father of the 
Faithful and the servant of Ormuzd to have met there, and so 
explains the points which the two systems have in common. — (1. 150.) 

The relations in which the great religions of the East stand to each 
other, and the characteristic features of each of them, are brought 
before us by Mr. Max Muller in somewhat of the following order : — 

I. The Vedic hymns present the earliest records of the worship of 
the Aryan race. The date which is assigned to these is from 1500 
to 1200 b.c. They indicate primarily an elemental worship. 
Agni, the lord of fire (Ignis) ; Surya, the sun ; Maruts, the storms ; 
Prithivi, the earth ; Ap, the waters ; TJshas, the dawn ; Varuna, the 
heaven (ovpavos), — these are the devas, the bright, the divine ones to 
whom they are addressed. Below this seeming polytheism there is a 
sense of unity. " That which is One, the wise call in divers manners." 
" Wise poets make the beautiful winged, though he is One, manifold 
by words." — (I. 29.) The hymns themselves are for the most part 
prayers for earthly blessings, for rain, sunshine, harvest, wealth, 

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Max Miiller on the Science of Religion. 73 

conquest, often wearisome in their monotonous repetition. Sometimes 
they expand in glowing adoration of the attributes of the God 
invoked, the " One King of the breathing and awakening world," 
" whose greatness the snowy mountains and the sea proclaim," 
"whose shadow is immortality." (I. p. 29.) Sometimes they embody 
the confessions of the penitent craving for forgiveness. " Through 
want of strength, thou strong and bright God, have I gone wrong ; 
have mercy, Almighty, have mercy." (I. p. 39.) "Whenever we 
men, O Yaruna, commit an offence before the heavenly host, when- 
ever we break the law through thoughtlessness, have mercy, 
Almighty, have mercy." Now, they utter (as in the G&yatrl, used by 
every Brahmin- for more than 3,000 years as his prayer on waking) 
the prayer that the "adorable light of the Divine Creator may 
illumine (or rouse) the spirit of the worshipper." Now, they 
recognise a Power from whom no secrets are hid. " If a man 
stands, or walks, or hides ; if he goes to lie down or to get up, what 
two people sitting together whisper, King Yaruna knows it ; he is 
there as the third." (I. 41.) Now, with no trace of the me- 
tempsychosis which we associate with later Hindoo religion, they 
express a hope of immortality. " Where life is free, where the worlds 
are radiant, there make me immortal." Now, they sow the seeds of 
a mythology yet in the future by fanciful playing with the phenomena 
of nature. The dawn is a young bride, gold-coloured, daughter 
of the sky, mother of the cows (the mornings), leading the white 
and lovely steed (the sun). Sometimes their thoughts on the 
mystery of the universe clothe themselves in words which sound like 
the utterances of a later Pantheism, as in the hymn which Mr. 
Golebrooke has translated : — 

" Nor Aught nor Nought existed ; yon bright sky 
Was not, nor heaven's loved works outstretched above. 
What covered all? What sheltered P What concealed ? 
Was it the water's fathomless abyss P 
There was not death, — yet there was nought immortal, 
There was no confine between day and night, 
The only One breathed breathless by itself, 
Other than IT there nothing since has been, 
Darkness there was, and all at first was veiled 
In gloom profound, an ocean without light : 

* * + • • 

Then first came Love upon it. " 
Mr. Max Miiller dwells emphatically on the purity of Vedic thought 
as contrasted with the monstrous and debased cultus of later Hin- 
dooism. It is free from idol worship and the dream of transmigra- 
tion. The Triad of Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, is but a secondary 
formation. The abominations of Kali-worship and Sutteeism are 
unknown. It would be the wisdom of the Christian missionary, he 

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74 The Contemporary Review. 

again and again urges, to appeal to them as witnesses, as St. Paul 
appealed to Cleanthes or Aratus, and to the altar of the Unknown 
God. He is sanguine enough to think that if an effective assault is 
ever to be made on the worst evils of the caste system which has 
been the curse of India for 3,000 years, it must be made by pressing 
upon the Brahmins' mind the reverence which they owe to the 
supreme authority of the Vedas, which give no sanction to it, as over- 
riding that of the Institutes of Manu, where it appears in full opera- 
tion. On the strength of that appeal, he would have the Indian 
Government ignore caste distinctions in all contracts for work, in all 
military service, in all public institutions, schools, hospitals, and 
prisons. On the other hand, however, because the four great castes 
are recognised as existing, in the well-known verse of the Veda 
("the Br&hmana was his (Brahman's) mouth, the BAganya was 
made his arms, the Yaisya became his thighs, the Sudra was born 
from his feet"), he urges on the missionary the duty of respecting 
these distinctions, and looks on this primitive caste, the caste of the 
Yedas, as distinguished from that of Manu, as fit for the life of the 
Christian Church and the civilization of the nineteenth century. 
(II. pp. 353 — 356.) I own, with all diffidence, that I cannot follow 
him in this instance. The Vedic verse (which is admitted, though 
comparatively late, not to be an interpolation),* coupled with the 
scorn with which the Sudra is elsewhere spoken of as one " whose 
contact defiles the Aryan worshipper/' little better than an evil 
spirit (II. 317), surely breathes the whole spirit of a conquering 
towards a conquered race, and though not worked into a code of laws, 
justifies the code that followed as hardly more than a legitimate 
development. Nor can I think that it is the office of the Christian 
Church to be slower to proclaim the brotherhood of all men on 
its true ground than the civil government is expected to be in making 
religious convictions yield to mere convenience or economy. If 
it is found, as Indian railways have shown, that the difference 
^etween first and third class fare is more to the Brahmin than the 
sacredness of his caste, it may be a reason for keeping to our European 
classification of carriages ; but the Brahmin is the worse, and not 
the better, for thus pocketing his scruples. Government, again, 
is more or less under a covenant to respect even the religious 
beliefs which it does not recognise. If it outrages those beliefs, 
it does so (even though they be "traditions of the elders," and 
not primitive and Vedic), as the " greased cartridges " showed, at an 
enormous risk. But the Christian Church is under no such cove- 

♦ Sutteeism, Mr. Max Muller informs us (II. 311), was defended by the Brahmins, 
when they were asked to produce an authority for it from the Vedas, by a garbled verse, 
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Max Miilkr on the Science of Religion. y$ 

nant, is bound by no such restriction- She is faithless to her calling 
in the Southern States of America if she refuse to admit the negro 
and the white at the same table of the Lord. She would be equally 
faithless if in India she allowed the Brahmin to hold aloof from the 
Sudra or the Pariah. Her watchword (whatever concessions she may 
make to social customs of long standing) must be, as of old, " Neither 
Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor unoircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, 
bond nor free." 

It falls within Mr. Max Miiller's scope to present the genesis of 
religions rather than to trace out their development and corruption ; 
and we have in these volumes but comparatively scanty notices of the 
later ritual books, and the metaphysical systems which followed upon 
the Yedas. These indeed he had already analyzed elaborately in his 
" History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature." One of those systems, 
however, he notices more than once as standing in close connection 
with the teaching of Sakya Monni, and therefore with the faith of 
the 300,000,000 of Buddhists who form about one-third of the whole 
human race. One looks out eagerly for anything that promises to 
throw light on questions of such colossal magnitude, and if the 
teaching of Kapila be in any sense the fountain-head out of which 
Buddhism flowed (1. 327), the desire to know what he actually taught 
becomes proportionably strong. And here the reader is fain to own 
that the guidance (it may well be from the ineradicable difficulties 
which Europeans feel of looking at questions of ontology from the 
stand-point of Hindoo metaphysics) seems to fail. Now, Kapila 
(the "an»isvara" "lordless one," as his controversial opponents 
called him) is represented as teaching an absolutely atheistic nihilism, 
" an atheistic philosopher of the purest water " (II. 304). Now, he 
appears as acknowledging the inspiration of the Yedas, recognised 
as unimpeachably orthodox, "not denying the existence of an Absolute 
Being," maintaining only that neither man's senses, nor his concep- 
tions, nor his ecstatic visions, enable him to apprehend the Absolute 
— the " Lord," whom his opponents claimed to know by their in- 
tuitions — not more atheistic, i.e. (it is Mr. Max Miiller's illustration), 
than " a well-known Bampton lecturer," with his theory of regulative 
truths (I. 228). 

II. Of the three great systems which are referred to these origines 
of our Aryan forefathers, one, that of the Hellenic and Latin races, 
seems to have been the unchecked growth of the seeds then sown, 
modified only by change of climate, new geographical conditions, the 
struggle for existence, the activities of a life in frequent contact with 
the perils of the sea. The other two, the religions of Zoroaster and 
Sakya Mouni, bear in them the traces of sharp antagonism and pro- 
tracted conflict. The affinities of language show (as is now established 

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y6 The Contemporary Review. 

by the concurrence of all philologists after half a century and more 
of unremitting labour) that Greek and Latin stand in the relation 
of sister, rather than daughter, languages to Sanskrit. The affinities 
of their mythology to that of the Vedas, as brought out in Mr. Max 
Midler's most interesting essay (vol. ii.), seem to prove that they 
started on their migration westward before the Yedic hymns had 
been collected and become authoritative. The religion of the Greeks 
never rested on the groundwork of a canonical book. What they 
did was to carry with them the names and thoughts to which the 
sunset and the dawn, the rain and the wind, the lightning and the 
thunder, had given birth. To these, in striking and refreshing 
contrast to the Euhemerism* which prevailed in the European 
scholarship of the last century, Mr. Max Miiller refers all the more 
striking myths* of the Theogony of Hesiod. With a subtle skill 
which we cannot help admiring, even where it fails to convince us, 
he analyzes the names of Greek divinities and heroes, and the legends 
that gather round them. The Dyaus (sky) of the Yedas appears as the 
Zeus and Jupiter (Diespiter) of classical antiquity ; Yaruna is traceable 
in Ouranos ; Ushas (the dawn), in Eos and Aurora ; Surya in Helios ; 
the Harits (the horses of the sun), in the Charites or Graces. Every- 
where we are led to recognise what were originally parables from 
nature. Solar phenomena are traced out as the foundation of legends 
like those of Apollo and Daphne, Kephalos and Procris, Herakles and 

Whether the same process applies to the cycle of heroic legends 
upon which the epic and dramatic poetry of Greece was based, and 
which seems at first to have sprung out of tales of human passion 
and guilt that have analogues enough in later history — like those 
of Troy, of Argos, of Thebes — may, perhaps, admit of question. If 
we can think of the marriage of Zeus and Hera — incestuous, as 
measured by a human standard — as the bridal of the earth and sky, 
and see in the war of the Titans the conflict of the elemental forces 
of nature, or the passionate wills of men with the supreme law that 

• It is worth while to look back on what was not long since the standard of know- 
ledge in these matters, and so measure the distance we have travelled since. I quote 
the following from Dufresnoy's " Chronology," 1762 :— 
B.C. 1904. — Jupiter born. 

B.C. 1850. — Jupiter, at the age of sixty-two, began his reign in Thessalia, which he con- 
tinued sixty years. He obtained the crown by dethroning his father Saturn, 
as he al so had by deposing his father Uranus. The Titans made war against 
him, but were defeated, and obliged to leave Greece. Pluto possessed that 
part of the country that lay west of his brother's kingdom. 
B.C. 1773.— Jupiter died, aged 122 years. 

And for these dates elaborate reasons are given, with what now seems a strangely 
amusing gravity. The utter oblivion into which all this has fallen might almost justify 
the perplexed translator of M. Kenan's " Nabathrean Agriculture ' ' in rendering " un esprit 
evhemerien " as " an ephemeral spirit." 

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Max Miiller on the Science of Religion. jy 

should hold them in control, it does not follow that the " intelligent 
jury" to whom Mr. Max Miiller (I. 143) appeals as against Spiegel's 
Zoroastrian theories, would hold that there was sufficient evidence to 
lead us to see in the tale of (Edipus only a symbol of the Sun which 
issues daily from the womb of its mother Night, and returns to 
slumber in the arms of her to whom he owed his birth. Such an 
interpretation, stripping them, as it does, of the human interest 
which made them fit subjects for the great dramatists of Greece, was 
clearly far enough from their thoughts. No traceable analogue to 
these myths has as yet been brought before us from the Yedas ; no 
Greek mind, even of those who suspected a mythical symbolism of 
natural phenomena elsewhere, had a glimpse of its existence ; and 
we may be allowed to think that it was within the limits of possibility 
either that some such tragedies had passed before men's eyes, or 
that the imagination of Greek poets was fertile enough, without the 
aid of a mythological starting-point, to invent them as tales of human 
crime and suffering. 

III. The religion of the section of the Aryan race who spoke what 
we have learnt to call Zend, and whose cultus and creed are embodied 
in the Zend-Avesta or Avesta-Zend (A vesta meant the sacred 
"text;" Zend, from khandas, a " metrical paraphrase" or interpreta- 
tion), bears, as has been said, distinct marks of antagonism. It 
has separated from the parent stock, under the influence, it may 
be, of some powerful mind, at a time when the polytheism of the 
latter had become more prominent ; and it throws scorn upon it by 
giving to its very name for the Gods an entirely new significance. 
As the Scu/iovcs of the Greeks pass into the demons of later Judaism 
and Christendom, so the Devon of the Vedic hymns, Indra and 
others, become, one might almost say, the devils of the Zend- 
Avesta. Every follower of Zoroaster has solemnly to renounce 
them. By a yet stranger transformation which Mr. Max Miiller, 
following in the steps of Burnouf, traces with a fascinating skill, the 
mythical names, which appear in the Yedas as representing elemental 
phenomena, became clothed in the Persian system with an historical 
personality, and become, at a later period, the groundwork first of 
an epic, and then of pseudo-history. Jemshid, Feridun, and 
Garshasp, the three heroes of the " Shahnameh " of Ferdusi (a.d. 
1000), are identified with the three representatives of the earliest 
generations of mankind in the Zend-Avesta, and these again shown 
to coincide with the Yama, Trita, and Krisasva of the Yedas. But 
with the change from polytheism to a belief in the One Supreme, 
the "solemn protest against the whole worship of the powers of 
nature involved in the Yedas," which was the vital principle of the 
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concomitant, a profounder sense of sin, a clearer vision of the 
mystery of evil in the heart of man, and in the world. This in its 
turn vexed the soul with thoughts of a conflict between two hostile 
powers, all but equally omnipotent, and theatened to transform the 
monotheistic creed into Dualism. Ormuzd and Ahriman, Light and 
Darkness, were arrayed one against another, and the work of the 
devout worshipper, even in what seems to us most trivial and revolt- 
ing, was to attain the purity which belonged to a servant of the 

Of the marked points of parallelism between the religion of Zoro- 
aster and that of Israel, recognised to the full by Spiegel and 
fiaug, as well as by older scholars, Mr. Max Miiller speaks with the 
reserve of a true historical investigator. They are indeed. striking 
enough. The belief in a mighty Lord, the "I am that I am," 
supremely wise and good, in an evil spirit tempting and accusing, 
in myriad angels who form the armies and do the pleasure of the 
great King, in a tree of life and a tree of knowledge, and a serpent, 
the enemy of man, the iconoclastic hatred of the common forms 
of polytheism which characterized the more zealous worshippers in 
either system, the hope of a coming Deliverer, the belief in a 
paradise for the souls of the righteous, these are far from exhausting 
the resemblances. They naturally enough tempt men to conjectures. 
Scholars of a past period, who lie almost beyond the horizon of 
Mr. Max Muller's vision, identified Zoroaster with Oehazi or with 
Baruch. Spiegel, as we have seen (and he occupies, we must 
remember, all but the highest place among Zend-Avest& scholars), 
assumes a conference between Abraham and Zoroaster, to settle, as 
it were, the articles of a primeval creed. Many biblical critics, 
on the other hand, have assumed that Israel had no belief in Satan, 
nor in angels, nor in immortality, till it derived it from Persia, 
that Sadduceeism was in fact purely conservative, witnessing for the 
uncontaminated faith of Abraham and Moses. 

Mr. Max Miiller wisely avoids these snares and pitfalls. He 
acknowledges the evidence of seemingly Semitic elements in the Zend- 
AvestA itself, but so far as he offers an account of them, he assigns 
them, not to intercommunion or derivation, but to the primary 
religious intuitions which he holds (differing herein from Renan 
and many others) to have been God's gift, the primitive revelation, 
the common inheritance of mankind. 

At the risk of seeming to identify myself, wholly or in part, with 
the crazes, dreams, and phantasies, the "delirantmm eomnia " with- 
out number, which have gathered round the Ten Tribes, I venture 
to think that we may see some of the causes of this parallelism in 
the events that preceded the appearance of Zoroastrianism, as a 

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Max Miiller on the Science of Religion. 79 

living and energetic creed under Cyrus.* We may reason from the 
analogy of the history of the section of Israel which was led captive 
to Babylon, from that of the later " dispersion," to what would at least 
be probable with those who were carried to the cities of the Medes. 
If Judah and Benjamin have all along exercised a strange power 
over the minds of those with whom they came in contact, won the 
homage even if they also won the hatred of their conquerors, borne 
their witness, transmitted their thoughts, prepared the way for a 
faith higher than their own, may we not think that a people of the 
same race, carrying with them the same faith, in a form, from the 
nature of the case, more prophetic and less sacerdotal than that of 
Judah, might carry with them seeds of new thought, and find in 
the Persians, in the glow of their religious enthusiasm for Ormuzd, 
their protest against nature- worship, their vehement iconoclasm, the 
good soil which was needed for their growth P Certain it is that 
as soon as the purest Aryan and the purest Semitic faiths come 
within sight of each other, their attitude is one of profound sympathy 
and mutual honour. Isaiah (I am disposed to think the proto-, not 
a deittero- Isaiah) points to the Eoresh (Cyrus) of the distant tribe as 
the " servant of the Lord," the " righteous man from the East," the 
Anointed, the " Messiah" of Jehovah (xliv. 28, xlvii.). Daniel is at 
once honoured by " Darius the Mede," and becomes the " Rab-mag," 
or Chief of the Magi. Cyrus issues his proclamation as one who had 
recognised a common ground between himself and Israel in the 
worship of the " God of Heaven." During the two centuries in 
which in Babylon, Susa, Jerusalem itself, the Jews lived under 
Persian satraps, or in the court of the Emperor, the relations of 
the two races were, with hardly an exception, those of friendly 
protection on the one side, and loyal obedience on the other. 

IV. When the next great religion of the world started on its 
course, in the sixth century before Christ, the system of the Vedas 
had suffered a more pervading corruption. Its polytheism had 
assumed a more revolting character. Its caste distinctions had led 
to an intolerable tyranny. The doctrine of metempsychosis had 
assumed a prominent position in all speculations as to the " before " 
and " after " of this earthly state. To the common people it offered 
the spectacle of a ruling order, a sacred aristocracy, with no sympathy 
for them. The minds of thinkers were led to look on life, with all 
its sensations and energies, as a delusion to which they were in 
bondage, and were yet offered no ready and easy process of .eman- 
cipation. We may not be able to follow Mr. Max Miiller in the 

" The substratum of Zoroastriamtm is carried back by recent scholars to a moro 
remote period, but the name of Cyrus (unless we resolve his history also into a solar 
«*ytf ) clearly represents a new, and, as it were, crusading energy. 

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80 The Contemporary Review. 

belief that the " natural " outcome of such a state of things, by a 
necessary law of evolution, " with the same necessity with which 
mediaeval Romanism led to Protestantism" (I. 223), was what we 
know as Buddhism, We may claim a larger share than this 
language seems to allow for the power of individual character as an 
element of causation in the religious history of the world, but it is clear 
that it offered abundant materials for such a personal element to work 
upon. To those who look upon the story of Sakya Mouni as one of 
the noblest and most touching in the history of mankind, it will be 
a satisfaction that Mr. Max M tiller does not follow Mr. H. H. Wilson 
in the scepticism which, applying a Straussian method of criticism 
(Kapilavastu, e.g., the city where Sakya Mouni was born, is only a 
symbol of the fact that he reproduced the nihilism of Kapila), would 
relegate it entirely to the regions of the myths which are the after- 
growth of a religion, but sees in it the history of a human life. 
And accepting it as history, he is not slow to acknowledge its beauty 
and its greatness. If he does not follow the language in which Renan 
speaks of Buddha as perhaps greater than the Lord whom Christians 
worship, he reproduces, without protest, M. St. Hilaire's more reveren- 
tial words,* that next to the story of the Gospels there is no record 
of self-denial so marvellous as that of the king's son who laid aside 
the greatness to which he had been born, and when he had found 
the secret of emancipation from the misery of existence, gave himself 
to a life of suffering, hardship, mendicancy, to extend it to the 
poorest and the meanest. 

I cannot blame the glow of admiration which that story kindles ; 
but it is worth while to note that the true analogue to it in Christian 
history is found, not in the life or teaching of the Prophet of 
Nazareth, but in that of Antony of Egypt, and Francis of Assisi. 
The lessons of the former point to a life unworldly, indeed, and 
regardless of wealth and honour, but active and cheerful, mingling 
with the daily life of working men, sanctioning their industry, 
blessing the ties of kindred and affection. Men are taught to feel 
the misery of sin ; they are not led to look on existence as a curse. 
The teaching of the latter, noble as the spirit of self-sacrifice was 
there also, tended to a Manichaean disregard of the common work 
and natural ties of man, and, as has been said a thousand times, 
it threatened Europe with a Christian Buddhism, and ran its course 
with a singular parallelism of organization, ritual, asceticism. Had 
the dreams of the Franciscans of the thirteenth century been realized, 
had the story of the Stigmata, and the " Everlasting Gospel " been 

• M. Renan'a words, speaking of our Lord, are, " H n'y pea eu d'homme, Qakya 
Mouni peut~4tre exeeptf, qui ait ft oe point ibule aux pieda la femille, et lea joiea de oe 
monde," etc — ( Vie de Jdeue, p. 459). H. St Hilaire aaya, " Je n'h&ite pas ft ajouter que 
§auf U Christ tout eeul, il n'eat point parmi lea fondateura de religion de figure plua 
pure ni plua touchante que celle du Boudha."— - {Bouddka et ea Religion, p. 6.) 

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Max Mulkr on the Science of Religion. 8 1 

incorporated into the creed of Christendom, the parallel would have 
been yet more complete, and we should have had an apotheosis 
like that which Buddhism, in spite of the atheistic tendency with 
which it seems to have started, has lavished on its founder, — like 
that which the more portentous developments of Latin Christianity 
in our own time have bestowed on the mother of our Lord. 

On the question what it was that Sakya Mouni offered to his fol- 
lowers as the prize for which they were to Btrive, for which all 
labour and toil, and fastings and prayers, might well be borne, Mr. 
Max Miiller follows M. St. Hilaire and M. Eugene Burnouf in 
identifying the Nirvana with absolute annihilation, the pure not- 
being in which there is no absorption into the higher life of the 
Uncreated Essence, no consciousness of peace and freedom of evil, 
but the loss of being and consciousness at once.* That there are 
states of mind, and those of no rare occurrence, in which such 
annihilation seems a thing to be desired above all joys, or because 
all joy is thought impossible, is obvious enough. It utters itself 
in the despair of Job and Jeremiah, and in the deep melancholy of 
Ecclesiastes ; it breathes its "pathetic minor" in the choruses of 
Sophocles, it clouds the brighter hopes of immortality in the Apologia 
of Plato, we hear its voice in the soliloquy of Hamlet, it appears 
in a commoner and coarser form in every suicide. The marvel 
of Buddhism is that it appeals, and apparently with success, to 
this feeling, not as exceptional, but as universal ; that it ignores 
altogether that dread of annihilation which some have looked on 
as an instinct of man's nature and a proof of his immortality. 
But the answer is found in the fact that nature is stronger than 
metaphysical definitions. Even, it may be, in the mind of the 
Buddha himself, certainly in that of the millions who revere him, 
Nirvana is a deliverance from misery (I. 233, 250), and this they 
identify with the consciousness, at least, of peace. It becomes to 
them what Heaven, Paradise, Elysium, have been to others, a 
vague synonym for a blessedness which, as yet, they know not, 
but of which they dream according to each man's temperament and 
fancy. What may well surprise us yet more is that this weariness 
of existence, instead of leading to almsgiving, fasting, prayer, self- 
sacrifice, as the path to Nirvana, has not prompted men to suicide. 
But the explanation here, too, is not far to seek. The strength of 
Buddhism lay in the universal acceptance among the populations to 
which it offered itself of the doctrines of a natural immortality and 
metempsychosis. To one who held that belief death brought no sure 

* I may correct here a phrase open to misconception in a note to the title of a short 
poem in which (Contemporary Review for May, 1867) I have attempted to embody the 
Buddhist feeling. I have called it " Sakya Mouni at Bodhimanda," because it was there 
that the idea of Nirvana first came upon him in its clearness. He had then a foretaste of 
it The scene of his death, when, in Buddhist phrase, he entered on it, was Kucuiagara. 

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82 IThe Contemporary Review. 

deliverance. It might lead tally to " ills men know not of" greater 
than those they know, new forms of human or brwte life more 
miserable than their own, tortures at the hands of avenging demons 
in the unseen world. In order to escape from suffering, it had to 
raise its moral being to the highest point of its perfection, and then, 
and then only, subject no longer to the law that held it in bondage, 
it attained its freedom, could " shuffle off its mortal coil,' 1 and be at 
peace, i.e., when men came to analyze their hopes, cease to be. 

But neither the weariness of life mr the belief in tnmsmigrafckm 
can account for the rapid progress and the permanence of Buddhism. 
For that we must look to the feet that it presented to men in the 
life of its founder what has never failed to touch their hearts— the 
spectacle of a life of self-sacrifice and voluntary poverty, the sym- 
pathy which " counts nothing human alien from itself," that it 
proclaimed the truth of a Universal Brotherhood. It made war 
upon the caste system, which must have been felt by the inferior 
castes as a crushing tyranny. Sakya Mouni himself^ belonging to 
the Warrior (£shatriya) caste, fraternized with the Sudrns. It 
welcomed the older non- Aryan races that survived in India, and 
the more remote countries to which it afterwards spread, as standing 
on the same footing, entangled in the same misery, capable of the 
same emancipation. Of the history of Buddhism, how, after scorn, 
desertions, struggles, success, it found its Constantino in Asoka, the 
contemporary of Seleucus Nioator, and had its general councils and 
its monastic orders ; how it had also its sacred books and its countlesB 
prayers, its incense, and rosaries, and images, and praying wheels, 
and worship in a" tongue not understanded of the people ;" how 
Brahminism rose up again and drove it forth, as Paganism might 
have done in the West had Julian been successful ; how, in its exile, 
it found a home even in a country which seemed given up to a system 
so alien from it as that of Confucius ; how the region of Sakya 
Mouni's birth and labours became a Holy Land, and drew thousands 
of pilgrims from the farther East — for all this we must refer the 
reader to the papers in which Mr. Max It tiller makes the results of 
the labours of MM. St. Hilaire and Stanislas JulKen accessible to the 
English public. For simple personal interest, apart from that of 
philology or religious speculation, there is hardly any paper in like 
two volumes to be compared with the rdsumd of the pilgrimage of 
Hiouen Thsang, who in the sixth century of our era started from 
Pekin, and made his way, amid hardships and obstacles, through 
the regions which MM. Hue and Gabet have made familiar to us, 
until his feet had trodden on the sacred ground and his lips kissed 
the sacred relics. 

V. Of the religious history of 1he other great divisions of the 

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Max Miiller on the Stience of Religion. '83 

luman race Mr. Max Miiller says less ; but the paper on *' Semitic 
Monotheism," with which the first volume ends, is in many ways of 
great interest. M. Reraan, in his " Hratoire des Langues Sdmitiques," 
had reproduced Ike old familiar generalization which assigned to Hhe 
Semitic races a "monotheistic instinct/' land which saw in that state- 
ment of an ultimate fact for which no cause could be assigned, a 
sufficient explanation of the part which Judaism, Christianity, 
Mohammedanism, the three " religions of the book," have played in 
the history of mankind. Against this generalization Mr. Max Miiller 
protests as hasty and superficial. He points to the wider extent which 
recent philological research has given to the term " Semitic," and 
to the fact i;hat many nations so included — Phoenicians, Cartha- 
ginians, Syrians, Assyrians — present forms of idolatrous religions as 
gross and sensuous as those of Greece or India ; that the history eff 
the Jews, till the return from Babylon, presents no trace of such an 
instinct as common among the people, but much rather a constant 
tendency, against which the loftier minds of individual thinkers 
struggled in vain, to degenerate into the worship of "gods many and 
lords many/' like that of the nations round them; that when Mohammed 
appeared as the prophet of a more rigorous, exclusive monotheism 
than the world had witnessed,* it was because he found himself in the 
midst of tribes, as Semitic as himself, who had sunk into polytheism 
and fetiche- worship. He asserts, in woTds that we are glad to quote, 
that here the whole course of the history has been determined, not by 
the laws of natural development and necessary sequence, which seem 
in his Introduction to be dominant in his conceptions of religious 
history, but by the influence of individual teachers, of one colossal 
personality. If Mohammed proclaimed that Allah was but One, he 
<iid so as the revival of the faith of Abraham. If Christ and his 
Apostles proclaimed that there was One God and Father of us all, 
they too did it as a truth which had been committed to Abraham 
'as the Father of the Faithful, in whose seed all the nations of the earth 
were to be blessed. The following passage will show in what way 
he holds that Abraham himself was led to the truth wlrich so many 
millions 'have inherited from him : — 

" And if we ore asked how this one Abraham possessed not only the 
primitive intuitions of God as He had revealed Himself to all mankind, but 
passed through the denial of all other gods to the knowledge of the One 
God, W6 ore content to answer that it was by a special Divine Tevelaticm. 
We do not indulge m theological phraseology, but we mean every word to 
its fullest extent. The Father of Truth chooses His own.prqpbets, and He 
speaks to them in a voice stronger than that of thunder. It is the same 

* The basis of Jewidi talMf, as Mr. Maurice has pointed out, waswrttnoKfttaisia, 
the fetief in « Deity auknericaHy one, but in a Hying Ged,4he Ruber add the Kirtf 
of men. 

G 2 

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84 The Contemporary Review. 

inner voice through which God speaks to all of us. That voice may 
dwindle away and become hardly audible ; it may lose its Divine accent, 
- and sink into the language of worldly prudence ; but it may also, from time 
to time, assume its real nature with the chosen of God, and sound into 
their ears as a voice from heaven. A ' Divine instinct ' may sound more 
scientific and less theological ; but in truth it would neither be an appro- 
priate name for what is a gift of grace accorded to but few, nor would it be 
a more scientific, i.e., a more intelligible, word than ' special revelation.' " — 
(I. 872.) 

On this point, therefore, we have no reason to complain of ambiguous 
utterances. In marked contrast to many tendencies of the age, Mr. Max 
Miiller professes his belief in the possibility, in the historical reality, 
of a revelation made by God to the mind of one man chosen from 
out his fellows. He sees in that revelation a power that helped to 
raise the Semitic races, in part at least, above tendencies which were 
just as much natural to them as to Aryans or Turanians. He believes 
that when Christ came to proclaim the Gospel that had been " preached 
before to Abraham," He too came as " a teacher sent from God/' and 
revealed His Father's will. Welcoming this confession, there are, 
however, minor points in his view of Jewish religious history in 
which I am not able to look on his reasoning as equally conclusive. 
It may be true, as he says, that the very name of God, Elohim, showed, 
in its plural form, that the monotheism of Abraham " rose upon, 
the ruins of a polytheistic faith." It may be possible even, though 
not, I think, probable, that Abraham chosethis as the Divine Name 
in a spirit like that of St. Paul at Athens, or Pope's Universal 
Prayer — as a recognition that every name which the nations had given 
their gods as expressing some attribute of might, wisdom, goodness, 
belonged to One in whom they all centred. But when the other 
Name, which witnessed of the Divine Unity and Being, came into 
use (whether through Abraham, first receiving a new significance, 
but not first uttered, on Horeb, or through Moses, or through Samuel), 
it surely brought with it a witness, distinct and true, that Jehovah 
was not only the supreme, but the One Elohim. Commandments 
like that which says, " Thou shalt have no other gods before me," 
phrases like those which speak of Him " as above all gods, God of 
gods, and Lord of lords," instead of showing, as Mr. Max Miiller 
seems to say, that those who used them thought only of a national 
Jehovah Elohim superior to the Elohim of the nations, and that 
consequently they had not risen to the conception of a pure mono- 
theistic creed, receive their true interpretation from the words which 
proclaim, " As for all the gods of the heathen, they are but vanity 
... no gods . . . the work of men's hands, wood and stone. . . . 
It is the Lord that made the heavens." That the people might fall 
into the lower forms of thought and speech, that their very worship 

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Max Midler on the Science of Religion. 85 

of Jehovah became polytheistic, even fetiche, in its nature, and led 
them to adopt a cultw which they no longer felt to be generically 
unlike their own — to this every page of their history, from the 
Exodus to the Captivity, bears but too plain a witness. But the lan- 
guage of Lawgiver and Prophets and Psalmists, so far from being 
an echo of that belief, was throughout a protest against it. 

Nor, again, is it easy to feel quite satisfied &at one of Mr. Max 
Miiller's answers to M. Benan does more than shift the difficulty, 
substituting an apparent for a real solution. It was no monotheistic 
tendency, he says, which saved the Semitic races from the interminable 
polytheism of their Aryan brothers. It was simply that they had a 
language which did not permit " appellatives " (names of natural 
objects that expressed their qualities) to lose their true power, and so, 
robbed of their significance, to become personified, and as persons to 
be the heroes of endless complications of relationship. As the state- 
ment of a fact this may be true enough, but as explaining a fact it 
seems to assume that language, as an instrument of thought, came to 
the Semitic race from without ; that they had it somehow given to 
them, and that it became the condition and the limit of their thoughts, 
and, in this instance, of their religion. Might it not be asked by a 
follower of M. Benan, or indeed by any inquirer, whether this limita- 
tion of the power of language does not imply (if language be, indeed, 
the expression of character, the spoken word the utterance of the un- 
spoken) a like limitation of the powers of thought — whether such a 
limitation of the latter in its bearing upon men's thoughts of God 
may not fairly be looked on as approximating to a " monotheistic 
instinct P" 

I have ventured in this paper, where the subject matter or the 
reasoning of Mr. Max Miiller's volumes came within the range of 
average readers, to give expression to the doubts or the questions 
which have occurred to me. I have done this all the more freely, 
because my own work in life has practically shut me out from the 
regions in which he is confessedly among the masters of those who 
know, and I must be content Vithin those regions to sit at his feet and 
learn. In the name of many who have already much to thank him 
for, I gladly acknowledge the additional claim on their gratitude 
which he has established by this collection of essays and notices, 
which were before so scattered as to be practically inaccessible, and 
which will for very many shed light over some of the dark pages of 
the world's history. 

E. H. Pltjmptke. 

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TO the memory of the ordinary observer, the chief Parliamentary 
session of 1867 appears as if filled only with debates on the 
Reform Bill. Yet, in fact, few sessions have ever been mom fruitful in. 
measures of social importance ; few will Leave a deeper mark in th» 
statute-book and in the lives of great masses of our countrymen- 
And if the mode in which the Reform Act was carried has indeed 
for the time loosened the political morality of the country, the bene- 
ficial character of an occasional shifting of political power from the 
one party to the other has, on the other hand, been excellently exem- 
plified, outside of the political sphere, by the passing of such measures 
as- those above referred to, which in ordinary times could never 
have left the hands of a Liberal ministry without some impairing of 
their fulness, some narrowing of tbeir scope. The very ideal con- 
dition of things for the useful exercise of the legislative power has, 
in short, been realized — that of the one party proposing what could 
not be opposed by the other: 

The beginning of a New Year seems a peculiarly fitting period for 
a retrospect over the more prominent features of the social legislation 
of 1867, inasmuch as many of the measures which deserve to be 
singled out take effect only on the 1st January, 1868. Some indeed 
are at work already, more particularly the Poor Law group. Mr. 
Hardy's excellent " Metropolitan Poor Act, 1867," came in to- 

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7*Ae Social Legislation of 1 867. 87 

operation, for the moat part, from it* date (29th March, 1867) ; as 
to some clauses, from last Michaelmas Day; Four momentous 
reforms are introduced by it : — 1st, The creation of asylums for the 
reception and relief of the sick, insane, and infirm poor, and the 
application thereto of the district system, already adopted in the 
ease of schools ; 2nd, The power given to the Poor Law Board to 
require boards of guardians to provide dispensaries for out-door 
medical relief and te u approve and direct " the " duties, qualifica- 
tions, number, and salaries of the dispensers, officers, and servants," 
aa well aa to "vary" existing medical salaries and contracts with 
district medical officers, and to "direct " the payment of such com- 
pensation a» they think fit to medieal officer* affected by the 
Act; 3rd, The creation of a "Metropolitan Common Poor Fund," 
for the maintenance of lunatics, small-pox patients, payment for 
medicines and medical and surgical appliances, salaries of school, 
asylum, and dispensary officers, compensations to medical officers, fees 
for registration of births and deaths, vaccination fees, school main- 
tenance of pauper children, and certain expenses for the houseless poor; 
4th, last, not least, The introduction into boards of guardians generally, 
as well a* among the managers of asylum districts under the Act, and 
into district school-boards, of justices of the peace or qualified rate- 
payers nominated by the Poor Law Board, to an extent not exceed- 
ing one4hbd of the whole number. Taken in connexion with the 
Hemsekea Poor and School-District Acts, this is a distinct lifting of 
nearly the whole question of pauperism in the metropolis out of the 
sphere of mere pfatonomy into that of a true economy. The right 
of ike poor not to starve, -was, it may be said, established by the 
New Poor Law. Then followed the recognition of the right of 
the pauper child to be educated, in the Acts relating to sehool-dis- 
triets> Ac; ; of the right of the poor to move freely about the country, 
in various mitigations of the Law of Settlement, and in the Houseless 
Poor Acts. The new Act, in turn, recognises the right of the poor, 
— -in lihe metropolis, at least, — to be duly eared for in their physical 
and mental diseases and infirmities. And it is obvious that the 
principles than applied to London will have to be extended to all 
large towns,, and eventually throughout the country ; although it 
may be feared that the formers will fight harder than London shop- 
keepers hare done for the privilege of saving rates out of human 

On New Tear's Day, 1868, indeed, a fresh inroad will be made 
upon that privilege of the rate-payer, — a fresh outrage offered to the 
great god Self-will, and to hie image which fell down from Jupiter in 
the shape at Umm faire^ — through the coming into operation of the 
, Act of 1807. M A beautiful machinery already existed 

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88 The Contemporary Review. 

for enforcing vaccination, but unfortunately it did not work, it 
being no one's duty to set it in motion. This duty the new Act casts 
upon the Registrar of Births and Deaths, to whom certificates of 
vaccination are required to be transmitted, and who is bound twice a 
year, within a week after the 1st January and the 1st July, to make a 
list of all cases in which certificates have not been duly received, and 
submit the same to the guardians ; who in turn, after making inquiry, 
are bound to cause proceedings to be taken against defaulters. 
Provision is made both for vaccination (within three months after 
birth) and inspection (one week after vaccination) of children, under 
penalty of not exceeding twenty shillings against parents or other 
responsible persons neglecting either duty. Such vaccination is gra- 
tuitous as respects the parent, when performed by the public vaccinator, 
the cost being defrayed out of the rates, at a minimum fee of one 
shilling and sixpence for each successful vaccination, with power to 
the Privy Council to direct in any case an extra fee not exceeding 
one shilling. It is obvious that this Act, efficiently worked, will 
compel the vaccination of the whole registered population ; power 
being, moreover, given to magistrates to order the vaccination of 
children under fourteen who have not been successfully vaccinated, 
nor had the small-pox. 

Lastly, the "Poor Law Amendment Act, 1867" (in operation 
since its date, 90th August), gives vigour to the central authority, by 
rendering the Poor Law Board permanent, and in several ways 
extending its powers ; whilst useful facilities are given to guardians 
to place adult blind, deaf, or dumb paupers in special hospitals or 
institutions, and to detain in workhouses paupers suffering from 
mental or infectious or contagious disease. 

The next group is the large and important one of what may be 
called the " Labour Acts." Most of these are New Tear's gifts, and 
foremost among them stands "The Factory Acts Extension Act, 
1867." This makes the Factory Acts applicable, subject to excep- 
tions and temporary modifications, to — 1, Blast furnaces (including 
any premises in which the process of smelting or otherwise obtaining 
any metal from the ores is carried on) ; 2, Copper mills ; 3, Iron 
mills (including any premises on which " any process is carried on 
for converting iron into malleable iron, steel, or tin-plate," or for 
" making or converting steel") ; 4, Iron foundries, copper foundries, 
brass foundries, and other places for founding or casting metals ; 
5, Any premises in which mechanical power is used for moving 
machinery employed in the manufacture of machinery or other articles 
of metal, india-rubber, or gutta-percha ; 6, The paper, glass, and 
tobacco manufactures, letter-press printing, and bookbinding ; and 
lastly, 7, Any trade establishments at which fifty or more persons 

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The Social Legislation of 1 867. 89 

are employed in any manufacturing process — a drag-net clause similar 
to that of the French law (although with wider meshes, their own 
limit being twenty persons). Sunday labour is forbidden for children, 
young persons, or women in factories under the Act, with some modi- 
fication as to blast furnaces ; boys under twelve and females are for- 
bidden to be employed in those parts of glass factories where melting 
or annealing is carried on ; children under eleven, to be employed 
in grinding in the metal trades. In the glass manufacture, children, 
young persons, or women, are not to take their meals where the 
materials are mixed, nor, as respects flint-glass, where grinding, 
cutting, and polishing are carried on ; and the inspectors of factories 
are authorized to direct the use of a fan, or other mechanical means, 
to prevent the injurious inhalation of dust by the workmen, wherever 
the latter or any other dust-generating processes are performed, as 
well as to require the secure fixing of grindstones. 

The main importance of this Act is that, for the first time, it seeks 
to base on a general principle our protective legislation on the labour 
question. This has consisted hitherto — it consists in a great 
measure still under the new Act itself — in a series of exceptions to 
the ordinary law, introduced into this or that branch of industry 
successively, according as a case was established against each for legal 
interference. The collective wisdom of the nation has at last groped 
its way to the assertion that, wherever large numbers of workers are 
brought together in manufacturing industry, there the law has a 
right to interfere for restricting the labour of the child, the youth, 
the woman, and for enforcing certain sanitary provisions and life- 
saving precautions. This bold step has been taken, more than six- 
and-twenty years since the like principle was recognised and carried, 
as above shown, at least in the text of the law, much further in France 
(law of 22nd March, 1841). 

Having said thus much in favour of the new " Factory Acts Extension 
Act/' I must now point out the drawbacks to its efficiency. These 
consist in the schedule of " Temporary " and " Permanent Modifi- 
cations " -annexed to it. Some of these may be necessary or expe- 
dient ; others appear quite to stultify the Act. If it be consistent 
with humanity and the true economy of the State, to forbid Sunday 
labour for women, it seems impossible to defend a provision which 
allows them to be so employed in or about blast furnaces for two 
yean and a half, not even from the passing of the Act (15th August, 
1867), but from the 1st January, 1868. If overwork be (and who 
can doubt it ?) especially detrimental to the constitution at the period 
of growth and puberty, what is to be thought of a " permanent " 
provision which allows boys and girls of fourteen to be kept to work 
at bookbinding, three days in every month, for sixteen hours a day P 

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90 The Contemporary Revtew. 

IS there are periods in. the life ef woman — when about to become, 
when having recently become, a mother — in which overtoil is as 
dangerous to her as to a girl — nay, may imperil two lives at once— 
what is to be said of a permission to. keep her to work in the same 
trade for the like period of sixteen hours a day, for not " more them 
five eonsecutive days, in any one week" or ninety-six in a twelvemonth ? 
Why, a single such day of toil might be enough to ruin a dalirafce 
constitution for life ! It is not too much to say that several of these 
" modifications " are simply scandalous* and would deserve instant 

The next of the protective Acta in the group (also t» eome into 
operation on New Year's Pay) concerns a class of workers who will 
always require to be exceptionally dealt with. The "Merchant Ship- 
ping Act, 1862/' is mainly sanitary. The Board of Trade is to 
issue and have published scales of medicines and. medical stoves for 
different ships and voyages, and to sanation dispensing books ; ship- 
owners are to provide the. like accordingly, and stringent regulations 
are set forth for securing the purity and enforcing the use of antt* 
scorbutics. Shipowners and masters are made liable for the < 
of seamen's illnesses arising out of their negject; the 
the other hand, to forfeit wages from self- induced incapacity to work. 
Further provisions are made for securing the due ventilation, whole- 
someness, and coaveniency of seamen's cabins, and a medical inspec- 
tion of seamen is established, though only to be set in motion by the 
shipowner or master. 

The same 1st January, 1868, which will see the first general 
application to what the French term " la grande indwstrie " of the 
protective system of our Factories Acts* will also* see the principle 
itself of protection to labour first applied to agriculture. The 
" Agricultural Gangs Act, 1867 " — perhaps the one which, from its 
novelty, has attracted the most notice among the social measures of 
the session* — forbids the employment in agricultural gangs of 
children under eight years of age, and of females in the same gang 
with males, or under any male gang-master without the presence of 
a female licensed as such, and the acting of any poisons as gang*- 
masters without a license first obtained from two justices, on proof 
of character and fitness ; such license, to limit the distance whiek 
children are to travel on foot for their work, not to be granted ta 
publicans or beer-shop keepers, and. toj be renewed every sis: months. 

Invaluable as is this Act, considered as introducing into agricul- 
ture—English agriculture, for the Act does not apply to Scotland qd 
Ireland — a principle hitherto, ignored in this sphere, it may be 
doubted whether it will prove efficient. No machinery is provided 
for seeing that it is earned out; and the maim safeguard for its dun 

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The Social Legislation of 1 867. 9 1 

working, the half-yearly renewal of licenses before the justices, is 
greatly weakened by a clause empowering justices, after a second con- 
viction of a gang-master under the Aet, to withhold his license for not 
more than three months ; after a third, for not more than two years ; a 
fourth, indeed, disqualifying him altogether. It would thus seem that 
whilst the justices ace empowered to require the most stringent proof 
of good character and fitness in the case of a first application for a 
license, yet this* onoe granted, gives such a vested right to the licensee 
that he will be entitled to immediate renewal after a first conviction, 
to renewal in three months after a second, and in two years after a 
third. Evidently the provision in question only fetter* the discretion 
of the justices, and requires to be repealed. 

The last Act of the session, the " Workshop Regulation Act, 
1867," also coming into operation on New Year's Day next, brings 
us back into the sphere of non-agricultural labour, and is quite the 
meet important labour-regulating Act yet passed in our country. 
The principles of the limitation of the hours of labour for children, 
young persons, and women ; of the enforcement of sanitary provisions ; 
of the compulsory school-attendance of children, and (permksively 
at least) of official inspection, are by this Act extended to all handi- 
crafts, with the exception of the baking trade (regulated already, 
but very insufficiently, by the Bakehouses Act of 1863). No child 
under 8 is to be employed in any handicraft ; no child under 13 for 
more than 6£ hours in one day, between 6 aon. and 8 p.m. ; no young 
person or woman for more than 12 hours in 24, with 1£ hours for meals 
and rest, between 5 and 9 p.m. ; no child, young person, or woman, 
on Sunday, or after 2 p.m. on Saturday, except when not more than 
five persona aoe employed in making or repairing articles to be sold 
by retail on the premises*; no child under 11 in metal-griaading or 
fustian-cutting. Every child employed in a workshop is to attend 
school for at least 10 hours in every week, with a penalty of not ex- 
ceeding 20* k on parents in ease of neglect ; every occupier ofi a work- 
shop who has employed a child for 14 days is to obtain, weekly 
certificates of his school attendance, and to pay out o£ his wages, 
not exceeding 2dL per week or one-twelfth e£ his wages, for his 
schooling. In ease of contravention of the Act, both the occupiers 
of workshops* and parents or other persons deriving direct benefit 
from the labour of, or having control over, the person wrongfully 
employed, are liable to penalties. In processes where dust is generated, 
fans or other mechanical means may be required to be used. Officers 
employed by local authorities, and superintendents of polite,, by order 
under the hand of a-, justice, and inspectors and sub-inspectors of 
factories at their discretion* majy enter into and inspect workshop* 
and examine the penaons employed* Inspectors, of factories may also 

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92 The Contemporary Review. 

disqualify teachers for granting school certificates, subject to an 
appeal to the Home Secretary. 

It is impossible to exaggerate the importance of this Act, con- 
sidered as generalizing the principle of protection to the labour of 
the young and of women. In practice, however, it is, like the 
Factories Act of 1862 (but less seriously), marred by a schedule 
of "temporary" and "permanent exceptions," — allowing, for 
instance, children of 12 to be employed as young persons (i.e., for 12 
hours) until 1st July, 1870. Not much reliance, moreover, can be 
placed on the " local authorities " (e.g., the vestry of a parish) who 
are entrusted with the enforcement of the Act ; and it may fairly be 
presumed that the intervention of the Factory Inspectors will have 
to be regularized and extended before its provisions can be fairly 
carried out. 

We may now pass to another sub-group of the Labour Acts, those 
which have not for their aim to protect the weaker workers, but to 
improve the position, promote the activity, or check the misconduct 
of the stronger ones. One of the most important of these, the 
" Master and Servants Act, 1867," is remarkable as being only tem- 
porary, being limited in its operation to one year from its date 
(20th August last), and from thence to the end of the then next 
session of Parliament. This takes away one standing reproach to 
our labour-laws, consisting in the difference of the treatment of the 
employer and employed in case of breach of contract ; the former 
being hitherto only punishable in the first instance by fine, the latter 
by imprisonment. Under the new law, the first object of the justices 
before whom any complaint of breach of a labour contract is brought 
appears to be made that of annulling, or, as it may happen, causing 
the fulfilment of the contract, and determining a pecuniary compensa- 
tion to the aggrieved party. It is only " where no amount of com- 
pensation or damage can be assessed, or where pecuniary compensation 
will not meet the circumstances of the case," in the opinion of the 
bench, that they are to inflict a fine not exceeding £20, and only 
on disobedience to their order that the power of imprisonment arises ; 
such imprisonment to be in discharge of any compensation, except, 
indeed, in case of aggravated misconduct by either party ; not to exceed 
three months, and to be only accompanied with hard labour in the last- 
mentioned case. 

The efficiency of such a measure as the Master and Servants Act 
resolves itself so entirely into a matter of procedure that it cannot 
yet be fully judged of, but it appears to be carefully drawn. This 
praise cannot be bestowed on the " Equitable Councils of Conciliation 
Act, 1867." No such ex post facto law has ever been enacted since 
the darkest days of Tudor or Stuart. To reassure the reader, how- 

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The Social Legislation of 1 867. 93 

ever, he must be at once informed that no danger of life, limb, or 
property is involved in this constitutional solecism. But it is a droll 
fact that a measure, ushered into the world under the parental respon- 
sibility of an ex-Lord Chancellor and most learned legal authority, 
should bear date the 15th August, 1867, and profess to commence on 
the previous 2nd July, thus claiming forty-four days of pre-existence at 
birth. The Act, it need hardly be observed, seeks to introduce into 
English legislation an institution (the " Conseil des Prud'hommes ") 
legally recognised in France since 1806, and which of late years has 
been growing up in an extra-legal form in several seats of our manu- 
facturing industry. Any number of masters and workmen in any 
trade, occupation, or employment, being inhabitant householders 
or part occupiers within any city or place (the metropolis being 
considered optionally as one place), who, as masters, shall have 
resided and carried on trade within such place for six months ; or, 
being workmen, shall have resided for the like period and worked at 
the trade for seven years, may, at a meeting specially convened for 
the purpose, agree to form a Council of Conciliation and Arbitration ; 
and on their joint petition to the Crown may, after one month's 
notice by advertisement, be licensed by the Home Secretary to form 
such Council under the powers of the Act. The persons signing 
the petition may appoint the first Council within thirty days after 
the license ; the Council is to consist of not less than two masters and 
two workmen, nor more than ten masters and ten workmen, with a 
chairman appointed by itself, being a person unconnected with trade 
and invested only with a casting vote. No member is to adjudicate in 
any case where he " or any relation of his" is a plaintiff or defendant. 
The election of the Council is to take place annually, on the first 
Monday in November ; occasional vacancies to be filled up within 
fourteen days. The constituencies are to consist of all persons quali- 
fied to petition under the Act, who may claim to be registered as 
voters, the masters " appointing " their own portion of the Council, 
and the workmen " electing " theirs. The votes for members of the 
Council are to be taken by a show of hands, with power to six regis- 
tered voters to demand a poll. • 

The functions of the Council, as those of its French congener, are 
twofold — conciliation and arbitration. There is to be a " Committee 
of Conciliation," to be appointed by the Council, consisting of one 
master and one workman, to which " all cases or questions of dispute 
which shall be submitted to the Council by both parties" are " in the 
first instance" to be referred, that the Committee may "endeavour 
to reconcile the parties in difference ; " in case of failure, the matter 
ia dispute to be remitted to the Council, and " disposed of as a con- 
tested matter in due course." Under its arbitration-jurisdiction 

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94 * *Fke Contemporary Review. 

the Council has " power to hear and determine all questions of dis- 
pute and difference between masters and workmen" submitted to ft 
by both parties, within the limits of an existing Act of the 5 Geo. IV. 
c. 96, as to arbitration between masters and workmen,, and also " atiy 
other case of dispute or difference " submitted to it * by the mutual 
consent of masters and workmen ;" but it is not to hare power to 
" establish " a future ** rate of wages or price of labour or workman- 
ship." And the Act is not to extend to domestic servants or 
servants in hu^wmdry. Each Council is to appoint its own officers, 
fix fees and other expenses, and regulate its proceedings, under the 
sanction of the Home Secre ta r y . 

Thh is another of thoee Acts of which it would be difficult to 
exaggerate the importance. But it would be equally difficult — *and 
I must again draw attention ' to fois subject — to exaggerate the 
slovenliness with which it is drawn. "Every clause is full of pitfalls ; 
almost every difficulty in the subject {e.g., whether sub-masters 
working for themselves are to be considered workmen or masters) 
is slurred over ; the same provisions {e.g., one as to appointment of 
officers) occur twice over ; unintelligible references occur, apparently 
to prior discarded texts of the bill {e.g., although provision is only 
made for the appointment of a "clerk of the Council," a " clerk of 
each division of the Council" is spoken of in one clause). And as 
the decisions of the Councfl are to be " final and conclusive with- 
out being subject to review or challenge by any Court or authority 
whatsoever," (!) it follows that the help of judicial construction being 
shut out, the only remedy for the draughtsman's blunders must lie 
in fresh legislation. The Act, in short, would Tequire to be entirely 

The " Industrial and Provident Societies Act, 1867," does not, like 
the last, introduce any new principle, but only develops an existing 
system. We need not stop over it, as its enactments, though of 
practical moment to the societies concerned, turn for the most part 
on points of detail without interest to the general reader. Suffice it 
to say that the principle of co-operation, the yearly expansion of 
which, as evidenced in the returns of the registered societies by the 
respective Registrars of Friendly Societies, affords so cheering a proof 
of our social progress, is henceforth allowed legally to be extended 
to mining and quarrying — a field of labour, its exclusion from which 
had always been singularly anomalous, seeing that the Cornish 
miners have long afforded one of the stock instances of co-opera- 
tive industry. And to check the growing abuse of non-returning 
societies, a penalty of from £2 to £5 is imposed for the default to 
make returns. 

Two other measures, although passed only for a temporary purpose, 

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The Social Legislation of 1 867. 95 

complete the group of the Labour Acta, the " Trades' Unions Com- 
mission Act, 1867/' and the " Trades' Unions Commission Act 
Extension Act,. 1867 ; " the former empowering the already appointed 
Trades' Unions Commissioners, or other qualified persons to he 
appointed by a Secretory of State, to "inquire into any acts of 
intimidation, outrage, or wrong, alleged to have been promoted, 
managed, or connived at by trades' unions or associations" in 
Sheffield or the neighbourhood, within ten years before the passing 
of the Act ; arming such commissioners or persons with judicial 
powers for enforcing the attendance of witnesses, examining them 
on oath, compelling the production of documents, and punishing for 
contempt ; and giving indemnity to witnesses making a full disclosure ; 
die other empowering the extension of the operations of the 
Commission to other places besides Sheffield, and giving absolute 
indemnity to all persons publishing a true account of any evidence 
taken before the Commissioners. These two Acts, it need hardly be 
said, will mark an era in the history of British labour, as having at 
last dragged into the light of day the industrial Vehmgericht of 
Sheffield and its neighbourhood. And if followed up by a fair 
legislative recognition of the limits within which trade societies may 
claim legal protection, they may serve to place the vexed question of 
the relation of capital and labour on as good a footing as may well 
be, until such time as, through a large development of the principles 
contained in the new Conciliation and Arbitration Councils, the law 
shall become capable of putting down the social nuisances of strikes 
and lock-outs, by firmly grappling with the causes which produce them. 
Side by side with the group of the Labour Acts we should in 
former years have found a bulky Sanitary group. But our sanitary 
system must now be looked on as nearly completely constituted, and 
sanitary enaetaents now run easily into other forms of legislation. 
Thus, two Acts of the past session, in part at least belonging to this 
group, the Vaccination and Merchant Shipping Acts, have been 
already considered from other points of view. Again, from oar 
Sanitary Acts has been evolved what may be termed the new municipal 
organisation of the nineteenth century, that of " Local Beards, 9 ' to 
the number of which every year sees fresh additions ; whilst the 
problem of the distribution of sewage is fast resolving what was first 
only a sanitary question into an economic one. The " Sewage Utilisa- 
tion Act, 18t>7," ought not from this point of view to be overlooked, 
though it does little more than extend the provisions of a previous 
Act of 1865 ; giving " sewer authorities," for instance, power to buy 
or take or hire land outside their district, for " receiving, storing, 
disinfecting, or distributing sewage," and again to deal with such 
land as they may think fit, farming it themselves, letting it on hire 

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96 The Contemporary Review. 

for seven years, &c. A larger sphere is moreover opened to such 
operations by certain provisions of the new Act authorizing the union of 
districts and the constitution of joint Sewerage Boards. In short, the 
only distinctly sanitary Act of the session, if we except its Cattle 
Plague statute, the " Contagious Diseases (Animals) Act, 1867," is the 
" Public Health (Scotland) Act, 1867," which consolidates the law 
north of the Tweed in the same manner as, but it would seem more 
efficiently than, the English " Sanitary Act, 1866." 

If I treat as a measure of social legislation the " Army Enlistment 
Act, 1867," I may seem to many to be doing violence to its character 
as a pure military Act. Yet it is a striking proof of the modifying 
power of the political constitution of a country over the bearing of 
all its legislation, that in France M. Jules Simon has just based his 
interesting work on infant labour, "L'Ouvrier de Huit Ans," on the 
relation of such labour to the military strength of a people. And, 
indeed, where the figure of 800,000 men is accepted as a normal 
one for a nation's army, it is easy to see that the period of military 
enlistment must become one of primary social importance. With 
us, thank God ! it is not so ; but it may not be amiss to point out 
that since the date of the Act in question, that period for our army 
is not to be " longer " than twelve years, but with a power of re- 
engagement after two- thirds of the term, to complete twenty-one. 

Measures of Law-Reform proper, however far-reaching may be their 
social importance, are generally too technical to admit of being 
rendered interesting to the general reader. It would be wrong, how- 
ever, to overlook the Act " to remove some Defects in the Adminis- 
tration of the Criminal Law" (30 and 31 Vic. c. 35), allowing the 
giving costs to the accused if acquitted on certain indictments, giving 
facilities for calling witnesses on behalf of accused persons, and, 
where stolen property is restored, allowing compensation to be given 
to bond fide purchasers out of money found on prisoners convicted. 
Enactments like these, which seem trifling to many, tend nevertheless 
efficiently to grease the too often creaky wheels of justice. The 
" County Courts Act, 1867," again — also a New Year's gift — gives 
further extension and solidity to the jurisdiction of these tribunals, 
particularly through provisions for refusing costs in the superior courts 
where less than £20 is recovered od contract, or less than £10 in 
tort, authorizing the common law judges to order causes to be tried 
in, and equity judges to order proceedings to be transferred to, 
County Courts, and giving a jurisdiction to these in title where 
neither the value nor the rent of property exceed £20 a year. Some* 
what analogous to this Act for the sister-country seems the " Debts 
Recovery (Scotland) Act, 1867," the exact purport of which I shall 
not venture to explain. 

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The Social Legislation of 1 867. 97 

Among Acts of a more especially commercial character, but of 
somewhat important social bearing, may be mentioned " The Com- 
panies Act, 1867" (in force since September 1st), which provides for 
the unlimited liability, if thought fit, of the directors or managers of 
a limited company, the reduction of capital and shares, the creation 
of share- warrants to bearer, and allows, under license from the Board 
of Trade, the formation of associations with limited liability, but 
without the need of using the word, for purposes not of gain ; the 
two " Railway Companies Acts, 1867," for England and Ireland, 
and Scotland respectively, which protect rolling stock and plant 
from being taken in execution or " attached by diligence," authorize 
" arrangements " of companies unable to meet their engagements 
with creditors, and facilitate " abandonments ;" and Mr. Leeman's 
Act (30 Vict. c. 29) for discouraging jobbing in the shares of Joint 
Stock Banks, — probably too narrow in its operation. 

One other Act, though purely local, deserves to be noticed, the 
t€ Metropolitan Streets Act, 1867," which came into operation for the 
most part on the 1st November, 1867, but part of which will only 
take effect on New Year's Day, 1868. This is noteworthy as having 
required to be hurriedly amended already, first, lest it should ruin 
40,000 costermongers, and secondly, in order to avert a cab-owners' 
and cabmen's strike. On the whole, as I would rather not be cen- 
sorious on this occasion, I think the least said of this will be soonest 
mended, — except that Mr. Hardy deserves real credit for having 
shown" himself open to reason, and capable of retracing his steps when 
unwisely taken, and that I believe he will be taking quite the right 
course in restricting rather than enlarging the powers of the police. 

On the whole, then, the budget of legislation for 1867 has been 
a most valuable one, and in nowise more so than through that weighty 
handful of New Year's gifts for 1868, the Vaccination Act, the Factory 
Acts Extension Act, the Merchant Shipping Act, the Agricultural 
Gangs Act, the Workshop Regulation Act, and the County Courts 

Might the rest of the year prove worthy of such a beginning ! A 
trying winter is upon us ; slackness pervades almost every branch of 
industry, and has prevailed so long that large numbers, both of the 
working and lower middle class, have by this time exhausted all their 
savings ; a spirit of almost aimless discontent is unmistakeably 
abroad, gathering fuel from enforced idleness, whilst the sparks of 
real or fancied grievances are already flying through the air. At 
such a time especially it is well to look steadily at the good, which 
is even now taking shape around us, and to view in the beneficial 
legislation of 1867 an earnest of that which — if England be true to 
herself — 1868 shQuld bring forth. J. M. Ltolow. 

vol. VII. 11 

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A LMOST everybody with a grain of thoughtful humour in him 
-£*- must have been occasionally amused at the sort of title by 
which minor lecturers often seek to indicate the topics of their 
lectures. It is difficult not to smile at such a line in a bill as this — 
" The Influence of Woman on Society ;" which means, acoording to 
Cocker, the influence of the half upon the whole. But such a title 
as " The Influence of the Press upon Society " would be nearly as 
questionable. Why not the influence of society upon the press ? It 
is surely Mr. Gladstone who says that the successful or persuasive 
orator is the speaker who receives from his audience in vapour what 
he pours back upon them in a flood. Can it be otherwise with the 
successful or persuasive journalist ? 

There are certainly obvious differences between the position of the 
orator and that of the journalist with respect to the public to be 
addressed. It is, no doubt, a very primitive view of his function, 
but it is strictly true that wherever he can find a stump the orator is 
furnished, and wherever there are people he may count upon an 
audience. It is perfectly conceivable, however unlikely, that an 
eloquent enthusiast, without a penny in his purse beyond the price of 
a bed and a dinner, should, by merely using an inspired tongue, 
wherever he found men and women enough to make a crowd in an 

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The London Press. 99 

open space, shake England from one end to the other. Before a 
journalist can find his public there must be a journal, which implies 
the expenditure of much money and a past concurrence of all the 
talents in getting it up. More depends upon the pulpit, less (in this 
one regard) upon the preacher. It is possible that if " An English- 
man" had written his well-known letters in, say "The Earthen 
¥68861," he might have been found out, and that his letters might 
have had some influence. Those who maintain that every true and 
capable voice is sure to be effectively heard at some time, will assert 
that this is not only possible, but certain : they must fight their battle 
as they may with others who think, on the contrary, that, according 
to all the analogy of nature and human life, true and capable voices 
get stifled on an appalling scale. But it may be presumed that any 
man who had something to say would prefer the speaking trumpet of 
the Times to the speaking trumpet of " The Earthen Vessel," and it 
is certain that a newspaper is a costly thing to create. We have 
some of us read lately that the New York Tribune was founded upon 
a capital of about £500, half of which was in printing material ; but 
in London, at the present day, it takes, or is assumed to take, about 
£40,000 to found a daily newspaper. In some way or other, before 
a man can have the benefit of an effective speaking trumpet in the 
shape of a printed journal, there must have been a great loosening 
of purse-strings — at all events that is the understanding; but a 
capable person, who used the tongue instead of the pen, need not 
have forty hundred pence to commence with ; and, as soon as ever 
he began to tell as a speaker, the press would be glad enough to 
report him, if his topics were imperial in character, or if his speech 
appeared likely to lead to or influence popular or other action. It 
would be trite to recall, with more than a word or two, the immense 
amount of labour and skill actually devoted by the press to the re- 
porting of such oratory as is supposed to lead up to decisive action 
(in Parliament), or to be the manifesto of any acknowledged party, 
social or political. Of course, what Mr. Gladstone says at St. 
Stephen's, or Mr. Bright at Birmingham, is as much news as a 
murder or a rowing-match. But the money has been spent and the 
machinery set up ; the journal is there before the orator, of whatever 
kind, gets the benefit of it. m 

Even with oratory the tendency is to run in grooves, and act under 
limitations which bring it into alliance with " capital." It is not 
considered respectable to howl and shout in open spaces ; and not 
only do halls and places to which people will go cost something, but 
the proprietors can refuse to let them for objects of which they 
happen to disapprove. The tendency has, of course, been resisted, 
Irafc within the last two years there has been a tendency, sufficiently 

h 2 

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ioo Hhe Contemporary Review. 

evident, to make the only platforms that coat nothing difficult of use, 
and the tendency mil show itself again. But with regard to the press 
the case is clear — a newspaper must pay. No doubt there are some 
which are subsidized, and which are maintained in existence for party 
purposes ; but, as a rule, a newspaper is a commercial speculation as 
much as a shop. It depends, like a shop, upon customers for its exist- 
ence. In other words, it is so far like the orator, who receives from his 
public in a vapour that which he pours back in a flood, that it must say 
what a sufficient number of people like so much to have said, that 
they will buy whatever says it for them. 

In this connection it may, perhaps, be permitted to us to quote 
from Mr. Mill a portion of the fourteenth chapter of the Second 
Book of his " Principles of Political Economy " : — 

" literary occupation is one of those pursuits in which success may be 
attained by persons the greater part of whose time is taken up by other 
employments ; and the education necessary for it is the common education 
of all cultivated persons. The inducements to it, independently of money, 
in the present state of the world, to all who have either vanity to gratify, 
or personal or public objects to promote, are strong. These motives now 
attract into this career a great and increasing number of persons who do not 
need its pecuniary fruits, and who would equally resort to it if it afforded 
no remuneration at all. In our own country (to cite known examples) the 
most influential, and on the whole most eminent, philosophical writer of 
recent times (Bentham), the greatest political economist (Ricardo), the most 
ephemerally celebrated and the really greatest poets (Byron and Shelley), 
and the most successful writer of prose fiction (Scott), were none of them 
authors by profession ; and only two of the five, Scott and Byron, could 
have supported themselves by the works which they wrote. Nearly all the 
high departments of authorship are, to a great extent, similarly filled. In 
consequence, although the highest ^pecuniary prizes of successful author- 
ship are incomparably greater than at any former period, yet on any rational 
calculation of the chances, in the existing competition, scarcely any writer 
can hope to gain a living by books, and to do so by magazines and reviews 
becomes daily more difficult. It is only the more troublesome and disagree- 
able kinds of literary labour, and those which confer no personal celebrity, 
such as most of those connected with newspapers, or with the smaller 
periodicals, on which an educated person can now rely for subsistence. Of 
these the remuneration is, on the whole, decidedly high ; because, though 
exposed to the competition of what used to be called 'poor scholars' 
(persons who have received a learned education from some public or private 
charity), they are exempt from that of amateurs, those who have other 
means of support being seldom caftdidates for such employments. Whether 
these considerations are not connected with something radically amiss in the 
idea of authorship as a profession, and whether any social arrangement under 
which the teachers of mankind consist of persons giving out doctrines for bread 
is suited to be, or can possibly be, a permanent thing, would be a subject well 
worthy of the attention of thinkers" 

This will, doubtless, appear trivial to those who think that when 
a g^ven set of facts exists, all we have to do is to accept it and make 

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The London Press. 101 

the best of it ; but not to those who think that there is an error in 
the word " all " here, and that we may learn to make the best of a 
state of facts, not only without accepting it, but in a spirit which 
would reverse the state of facts if it were possible. 

It by no means follows, nor is it true, that the inception of a news- 
paper is in most cases a purely commercial affair — that it is set up 
for a livelihood, like a stand in a market. It is far more likely to be 
the " idea " of a clever man, who sees his way to a pleasant sphere of 
intellectual activity, — perhaps even with a sufficiently high purpose, 
— and then hunts up his capital among men of wealth and enterprise. 
But a newspaper started on the principle of obeying the law or 
necessity of genius — that it must create the taste to which it intends 
to appeal — is, according to our information, an unknown thing. 
Almost every newspaper is projected with the knowledge that there 
will be uphill work at starting, and the probable expenditure is cal- 
culated upon that basis ; but it is always assumed, to begin with, that 
there is a public ready to buy it : the difficulty is to make that par- 
ticular public look at it and know it. 

It has been said that the rewards of Literature — a general term, in 
which journalism counts for much — are now so considerable, that 
the learned professions are feeling the drain of talent which is caused 
by the attraction of public writing. People who make statements 
of this kind include, no doubt, the Church among their "learned 
professions." A clergyman who is sufficiently at one with his church 
to be able to read the liturgy, and who yet allows the attractions of 
literature to " drain " the energy that was vowed to his pulpit, does 
not know, can never have felt, the privileges of his office ; but there 
are doubtless numbers of clergymenVho find'it so difficult to accom- 
modate their language in the pulpit to their deepest convictions, 
modified as those have been by criticism, that they fly to the press 
for an opportunity of relieving their minds, and say as little in the 
pulpit as they well can. And it is plain upon the surface that the 
journalism of the day is largely contributed to by members of the 
learned professions, and gentlemen who, having received the necessary 
education, prefer literature to the chances of those professions. Of 
course, the personnel of journalism is mixed. It contains huge 
numbers of persons who have tumbled or scrambled into it, with only 
the culture of clever men, whom accident and a natural bent have 
set down to the desk of the litterateur; but with the Saturday Review 
a new era began for journalism, and even for literature in general. 
More and more one can trace in newspaper- writing the culture and 
esprit de corps of the highly-educated Englishman ; the self-suppres- 
sion, the drill, the uniformity, the half- technical honour, the ostensible 
frankness, and at the same time real Equivoque of good society. In 

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102 TAe Contemporary Review. 

Mr. Tennyson's little idyll or eclogue, "Walking to the Mail," 

James says : — 

" like men like manners ; like breeds like, they say ; 
Kind nature is the best ; those manners next 
That fit us like a nature second-hand, 
Which are, indeed, the manners of the great." 

It is these "manners of a nature second-hand" which stamp the 
most accepted writing of much of the best journalism of the present 
day ; and it is well worth while to remark that there are " natures " 
whom such "manners" repel rather than conciliate. It might be. 
plausible to say that the increasing acceptance of such writing among 
one or two classes of society is a token, or at least a concomitant, of 
a widening severance of classes. Opinions may and do differ, both 
as to the alleged fact and the alleged concomitant; but it is, at all 
events, & feu* question whether the existence in journalism of a highly 
successful literature of cynical polish is a good sign for this genera- 
tion or the next. 

Of one thing, meanwhile, there is no question whatever. There 
is afloat and busy in our journalism an amount of talent and culture 
which is in itself a most striking sign of the times. Let any one 
take up, say, three of those Able journals which are written posi- 
tively as if they had shibboleths of culture to begin 'with, — which 
have a "note" of culture almost, if not quite, as marked as the 
" note " of Evangelicalism or High-Churchism ; and he will surely 
be struck with the profusion of good thinking and good writing, 
backed by good reading, which is to be had for money. And yet 
there is this peculiarity about it — that it never does anything par- 
ticular for you. You read your column and a half of vigorous, 
polished matter ; you are impressed by the journalist's evident know- 
ledge of his subject ; you receive a delight similar to that which floats 
in the atmosphere of a well-appointed dinner-table. And what then P 
You have merely spent so much time in an agreeable manner, and 
you go about your business untouched and unaltered. It will, of 
course, be said that this is just the result which the writing aims at, 
— that it is of the very essence of journalism that these things should 
be so. But it is impossible to stifle the doubt whether that society 
can be going on well in which there is a demand, with a correlative 
supply to meet it, for masses of literature, week by week, of which 
the most striking characteristic is the success with which its producers 
have discharged their minds of feeling, faith, and imagination. 

It is not inconsistent with all this that public writing at present 
should be largely characterized by virulence and ingenious injustice. 
The second-hand nature may fit like a glove, but, there are the 
claws ; and wherever an ercuse can be found, we have the felicity of 

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The London Press* 103 

seeing them unsheathed. Anything harder, more rancorous, more 
unjust, more daringly personal in a well-mannered way, more im- 
pudent in suppressing what is to be said for "the prisoner at the bar," 
and, generally, more cruelly bent on victory and the last blow at any 
cost, than some of the journalism of polish and culture, it is not easy 
to imagine. Its law is military law. Its verdicts are those of a gen- 
tlemanly drum-head court-martial, the jury being packed against the 
prisoner. Its discipline is thumbscrew discipline, with high-bred indif- 
ference to much besides decent victory over opposition. Decency is 
essential to it ; but that being granted, justice and kindness, except 
in the shape of patronage, may be nowhere. 

This is easily explained. If a newspaper is to be a great com- 
mercial success, it must, at all costs, be effective : it must appeal to 
the love of hard hitting, and even of hurting, which is so common a 
characteristic of human beings. A Napoleonic policy is the only 
thing for it, and the mass of floating talent and culture, with no 
particular heart or conscience, which is ready to lend itself to su*5h a 
policy, is one of the most striking signs of the times. That the talent 
and culture think they are doing justice while they adopt this kind 
of policy is very probable — even mercenary cleverness must have 
its illusions — but their mistake is in fancying that if they write 
what they think as cleverly as they can, striking out boldly when- 
ever they see anything wrong, they are doing justice. But this is 
not necessarily justice, much less goodness ; which last, however, is a 
word one ought almost to apologize for mentioning. Indeed, the 
whole subject is exceedingly difficult of approach, because any 
reference now-a-days to ideas which cannot be manipulated for 
business purposes is pretty sure to be derided as "theological." 
Some time ago, we happen to remember, the Spectator said that " the 
Anglo-Saxon race had a mysterious power of absorbing " — we for- 
get what ; but this reference to a " mysterious power " was* imme- 
diately snubbed as being " theological," — a taking refuge in the mud 
which was quite improper in these days ; a purely stupid return to 
an exploded order of ideas ; something which called for the imme- 
diate application of the cat-o'-nine tails. 

It is not difficult to discern that what is at the bottom of the 
tyrannic tendencies of our journalism (so far as they exist, and we 
have no desire to exaggerate them) is what may be called the 
wneeit of certainty, which is natural to the carrying of the scientific 
spirit into a dominion wh^re it is comparatively strange. We have 
framed this sentence with an eye to strict justice, and have only said, 
"▼here it is comparatively strange," — because the bulk of modern 
opinion inclines, with or without consciousness, to the idea that it 
^ght not to be " strange," but familiar and victorious, and that it 

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104 The Contemporary Review. 

will eventually prove bo. But, having done justice, we are at 
liberty to add that we think the scientific spirit is not only in fact 
strange in the discussion of all problems in which considerations called 
moral and spiritual inhere, but is of right a stranger, a blunderer, 
and a usurper. If it brings knowledge and acuteness to bear upon 
the evidence, it does what is required of it ; but in the decision it 
should take no part. Now, whether conscious of itself or not, the 
spirit of the bulk of our journalism is scientific — scientific in its 
hardness, in its positiveness, and in its distrust. 

Side by side with the spirit which we have called the conceit of 
certainty, there is plainly to be discerned the spirit of sociolatiy or 
crowd- worship. The " enthusiasm of humanity " has entered for good 
and all into the dominant activities of life; and, of course, the 
scientific spirit "accepts" it like any other accomplished fact 
Whether this, too, is not a little in the way of becoming a conceit 
as well as, or instead of, an enthusiasm, is another question ; but, in 
the meanwhile, the two tides, first, of conceit of certainty in a sphere 
whose very law is that " the unexpected always happens," and, second, 
sociolatry revelling in humane effort, are concurrently flowing, and 
may be said to dominate in our journalism. 

The theological spirit, in the high sense, in the sense in which its 
entrance into certain discussions is, as we have hinted, so readily 
reviled, is quite a different thing from the spirit of systematic 
theology. Religious faith without dogma or proposition is, we 
confess, a thing unintelligible to us ; but there are spheres in which 
religions dogma is quite out of place, and may become the minister 
of injustice in public discussion. Thus, the Guardian may legiti- 
mately appeal to a " High Church " public for support, and may 
legitimately enforce views and opinions of the order preferred by 
such a public ; but, of course, it must frequently, indeed generally, 
have to judge men and things by standards of which dogmas are wholly 
irrespective. The Spectator may be openly a "Broad Church' 1 
advocate and organ. The Nonconformist may be openly an organ 
of Dissent. But to bring the dogmatic or sectarian standard into 
court upon most occasions would be nothing less than unjust; 
injustice, indeed, of the nature of persecution. Journalism cannot, 
of course, attempt to rule the world by any given set of opinions 
upon open questions, however devoutly its conductors may adhere 
to them. But the theological spirit in the high sense is quite a 
different matter, we repeat, from the spirit of theological propa- 
gandism. Its essence is briefly that, starting from faith in " supreme 
retributive goodness 1 ' — which our scientific friends will perhaps 
permit us to call God — it " hopeth all things, believeth all things." 
In this spirit alone, the spirit which believes in the unseen, the 

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7*Ae London Press. 105 

spirit which is as much alive to possibilities as to actualities, in this 
spirit alone can justice be done, can the truth be discerned. In 
another spirit fragments of the truth may be discerned and faith- 
fully contributed ; but in the spirit of charity alone is insight, alone 
is that equitable kindness Which is the only "justice" that human 
beings should dare to offer each other. Now, in the mere effort, so 
constantly required of a journalist who honestly works with a theologic 
inspiration, to hold special dogmas in suspense, and yet not to let 
go the inspiration — in this mere effort there is necessarily a training 
in fairness and kindness such as other men cannot so readily secure. 
Hay we, then, naturally look to the best of those journals in which a 
theological spirit is evidently active, for a higher tone of justice and 
kindness, and a deeper insight, social, political, and literary, than 
we are likely to find elsewhere P 

In the first place, it must be borne in mind that we use the phrase 
"theological spirit" with an extended, but, we contend, strictly 
accurate signification. The theological spirit is, for example, dis- 
tinctly traceable in (among other places which will not escape atten- 
tion) some of the leading articles of the Daily News. There are 
hundreds of articles on public questions which may, for what one 
knows, be written by men who would vehemently reject the adjective 
"theological" as belonging to them or their writings; but that is 
nothing : people do not always know the logic of their own position, 
and the theological spirit is quite possible where the notion of any 
"science of God" would be scouted. The question is, not whether 
sectarian religious newspapers have not often been found rancorous, 
false, and foolish ; nor even whether the bulk of professing religious 
people and religious journals do not manifest a sense of honour less 
keen than that of the bulk of honest people and journals that make no 
profession. Decide these questions as you may, they do not concern 
the question whether or not, when we take up the journals which 
most deeply impress us with their truthfulness and goodness, we 
clearly find the theological, or, to use an overdone but inevitable 
word, the God-fearing spirit at the bottom of the facts. 

We would entreat those who may think we approach this question 
with a foregone conclusion, and those who imagine they have ready 
a store of facts to quote against any such conclusion — plentiful proofs, 
for example, of the honour and goodness of men who would disclaim 
the theological spirit in all its shapes — not to give themselves 
unnecessary trouble. We dare to promise that no real injustice what- 
ever will be done to any side of the truth by us, though we may make 
mistakes, and may err in the less or more. The thing we have 
chiefly in our mind when we speak of justice, or equitable kindness, 
as a thing that grows best where the theological spirit is breathing, 

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io6 T/ie Contemporary Review. 

is not at all a common matter. It is an easy thing to expose a fooL 
It is an easy thing to write a " strictly just," i.e. a very cruel and 
wicked, review of a book. It is an easy thing to " cut up " a public 
man, as Earl Russell was, some little time ago, "out up" in the 
Saturday Beview, in an article which sent a thrill of disgust through 
England, although it contained, perhaps, not a word that might not 
be justified, as justice goes in journalism. Thie kind of thing is 
mere Jack Ketch work. It is only a part of that tyranny of ex- 
pediency, under commercial checks or inspirations (as may happen), 
into which journalism seems threatening to drift too far just now. 
If it be too much to expect that a newspaper should be conducted 
on heroic principles — though that is not too much to demand — 
it is, at least, a pardonable refreshment to turn for a short time to 
journals like the Spectator, the Ghiardian, and the Nonconformist, 
where it is evident that " effect 19 is not the thing aimed at, and that 
the inspiration is independent. 

In our own day the main tendency of public criticism — moral, 
political, and literary — is to shift the centre of gravity from a 
solicitous sense of duty to a mere waiting on the will of numbers. 
No doubt the voice of numbers is very often the voice of God, but 
there are two ways in which it may be accepted, and it is almost 
impossible to refuse the illustration which offers itself. In our 
opinion the political courage of the late Sir Robert Peel was not the 
highest, or, perhaps, of thet highest. But, be that as it may, it 
remains true that, to his everlasting honour, he accepted, in a certain 
case, the voice of numbers as the voice of God, doing it to his own 
injury. It is hard, it is even dispiriting, to think that there should 
be any who do not, again, recognise, in the history of Mr. Gladstone, 
the gradual and too surely painful self-education of a great solicitous 
nature waiting on the voice of God in the voice of numbers. In 
the "Conservative Surrender," however, it is difficult, indeed, to 
recognise anything but the mere waiting on the will of numbers. It 
is to the honour of the press that it has so largely denounced 
Mr. Disraeli's crime (for a crime it appears to some of us) ; but it is 
also to the discredit of the press that it has so largely condoned the 
crime, and that so much of its blame has been blame with a wink in 
it Wherever we may think ourselves entitled to affix condemna- 
tion upon this subject — whatever organ of opinion has disappointed 
us by its tone — it is plain that such an event as the Conservative 
Surrender would scarcely have been possible, except in a day in 
which the currents ran decisively in the direction of a mere waiting 
on the will of numbers. The tendency to wait upon that will, 
whether existing in a shape philosophically self-justified, or only in 
the shape of an instinct of the hour, is really at the bottom of incal- 

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The London Press. 107 

culably great masses of both action and criticism at the present time. 
Let us not for a moment confound this base tendency with Ben- 
thamism, though the tendency may be supposed to exist in the 
majority of cases where Benthamism is espoused. But one thing is 
clear — that it is totally inconsistent, not only with Christianity, but 
with the theological spirit. If every miracle were to-morrow 
reduced to a myth, and every page of the New Testament worm- 
eaten by criticism, it would remain true that Christianity has, 
historically, deposited in the heart of mankind, never to be torn out 
of it, the ideas of the inalienable responsibility of the individual 
soul, and the importance of a faith dominating the life to the indi- 
vidual soul. Drop the miracles and tear the records, we repeat, 
these ideas are here, and came to be here demonstrably in one way. 
They are not Christianity, but they are of its essence. And they are 
of the essence of all that is worth doing, or having, or thinking, or 
writing in this world. Where they are decisively avowed in the 
press, we are entitled to hope that the functions of the press will be 
well fulfilled, since the avowal creates an open responsibility, besides 
disclosing a tendency. The times being what they are, a newspaper 
in which the theological spirit is thus avowed may be at some com- 
mercial disadvantage ; and, inevitably, a paper placed at a com- 
mercial disadvantage loses much in various ways. It is no disrespect ^ 
to the Nonconformist, for example, to observe that the "culture" and 
writing force of some of its contemporaries are greater than it can 
itself command — it must necessarily be so. But it is impossible to 
regard some of the " theological " newspapers without feelings of y 
respect and affection for their faithfulness to what they think good, and 
their gentleness — " hoping all things, believing all things" — to what 
is questionable. Higher qualities than these no man, no journal can 
possibly have. They are, taken as instruments, the very power of 
God. It is a small matter that organs of opinion and sentiment like 
these do not command fabulous circulations. Where they do go, 
they touch the best, the boldest, the most generous, the most self- 
denying natures, in whom is the hope of England and the world, if 
anywhere. The three newspapers we have selected to begin with, we 
take as types of the better journalism of England, on account of the 
spirit which pervades them. But our space is exhausted, and we must 
postpone illustration by extract and some little criticism in detail to 
another day. 

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THE article on the Talmud in the Quarterly Review has made an 
unexampled stir. Whatever has been written about its marvel- 
lous subject before, in " libraries, ancient and modern," in " essays and 
treatises, monographs and sketches, in books and periodicals, without 
number " (p. 420), has somehow failed to bring it before the world 
as it has been brought before it now. A subject hitherto treated in 
a tone of bitter controversy or pedantic learning, — a subject we had 
been accustomed to dismiss with a mere contemptuous shrug, proves 
to be instinct with beauty, tenderness, and wisdom. 

Within this small compass the Talmud is analysed and condensed, 
not only with encyclopaedic erudition, but with intense human feel- 
ing. Theories are put aside, and facts are dealt with. The author 
takes his stand on a purely scientific platform. But while expressly 
mentioning the many "gurgoyles," the " abstruse propositions and 
syllogisms/' the "fanatical outbursts," the " hierogyphical fairy- 
lore," of which we have hitherto heard far too much, he " buries," 
"that which is dead," and "rejoices in that which lives." He 
brings before us nothing but the distinct, authoritative, clear state- 
ments of the Talmud, legal, ethical, metaphysical, and other, 
generally in the words of the work itself. And while his 
answer to the question, " What is the Talmud P" is mainly historical, 

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The Talmud. * 109 

it is not wholly bo, for at every step, the religious and philosophic 
characteristics of the work are touched upon, and new and momentous 
problems are irresistibly suggested to the reader's mind. 

I am almost ashamed to have at once to raise certain empty 
phantoms, which might perhaps in time begin to float in the 
hazy atmosphere of public opinion. The Old Testament is written 
in Semitic language, the New Testament is written in Semitic style ; 
yet what do we in England understand by that term Semitic P — some- 
thing vaguely oriental or eastern, as to which any one can speak, 
with the confidence of knowledge, who has once had a slight acquaint- 
ance with some Indian vernacular or Chinese dialect, having about 
the same relation to Semitic, or less, than our English has. No 
wonder that we usually misunderstand grievously the simplest facts 
of Semitic literature. 

There is the question of the age and composition of the Talmud. 
The facts stated by the Quarterly writer are simply these. The 
origin of the Talmud dates from the return from Babylon, but the 
writing of it was not begun until about eight hundred years later. 
The dates of the redaction of both the Talmuds are given by him 
with the greatest precision. 

These facts to western minds are simply marvellous. Living in 
the midst of a civilization which is accustomed to books and neglects 
memory, they cannot understand the growth of Semitic literature. 
This is logically very strange, when not merely Semitic literature, 
but nearly all early literature, has the same history. The Vedas, 
the Zend-avesta, the Kur-dn, the Sunneh, the Homeric poems, the 
Eddas, the Nibelungen, and the Ealewala, are acknowledged to have 
existed orally for periods of various length, in some cases of 
very great length, even ages, before they were committed to 
writing. Yet a western, swayed by custom, thinks naturally 
that the Talmud was suddenly written like a leading article in 
the Times, out of contemporary materials. The author observes 
that nothing was admitted into the Talmud that was not well 
authenticated, and that whenever feasible, the name of the tra- 
ditionalist was added. Any one who will take the trouble to think, 
will see that this kind of work is not done in a day, or a year, or a 
generation, and if he goes deeper into the article in the Quarterly 
will perceive that if the Talmud was not the labour of centuries, it 
was a miracle. 

But what' was the literary history of the Jews during the period 
to which the composition of the Talmud is assigned P After their 
return from Babylon, they became an intensely literary people, and 
their literary energies were wholly devoted to the purpose of illufi-> 
trating the Old Testament, and mainly the Law, strictly so called ; 
md thus all that they produced during that period was rudimentary 



no The Contemporary Review* 

Talmud. It is simply incredible that there should be nothing extant 
in the Talmud of this its earlier condition. 

And when we have onoe admitted the maximum interval of the 
composition of the Talmud, it is a natural fallacy to be always thinking 
of that interval as if the Talmud, with not only its traces of Babylon, 
but of the Syrian persecution and the Roman wars, had been wholly 
composed in the days of Cyrus and handed down complete to the 
fourth century. But it is obvious that it was composed during every 
generation to the intervening centuries, every generation which has 
left its indelible historical traces in its pages. 

The Talmud had also, be it remembered, a rare quality to ensure 
its preservation. It was developed out of commentary on the Old 
Testament, the oral exponent of written Scripture. Thus, if not a 
word had been written, and the writing of anything authoritative was 
strictly forbidden, there would still have been the Sacred Text, as an 
aid by which the scholar might remember the comments. But though 
these comments were not to be written as authoritative, yet aflection 
And reverence remembered them as the comments, nay, the very 
dicta, of the doctors, the saints, and the martyrs. 

Yet, all allowances made, we Westerns cannot fail to be amazed 
at the positive statement of such a stretch of memory as we are 
accustomed vaguely to admit in other cases. It will, therefore, be 
useful to compare the Shemite faculty of memory, or its cultivation, 
in our own times, with ours, and the matter will stand out in a dif- 
ferent and far clearer light. 

" Many of the Arabs," writes Lane, " have been remarkable for a tenacity 
of memory almost miraculous. At school they generally learn the whole of 
the Kur-an by heart, aided to do so by its being composed in rhyming prose ; 
and many students, among them, when unable to purchase works necessary 
to them, borrow such works, a portion at a time, from the libraries of the 
mosques, and commit their entire contents to memory. Hence, in numerous 
instances, the variations in copies of the same Arabic work, copies being 
often written from the dictation of persons who have learnt a work by 
heart." * 

Among works so dictated are lexicons, not scanty vocabularies, or 
even dictionaries, but ample thesauri of one of the most copious 
languages in the world. I have in my own hands a curious instance 
in point, in a copy of the " Romance of Edh-Dh&hir " (commonly 
pronounced Ez-Z&hir), which has evidently been written out from 
memory, probably by a professional reciter for his own use. It i* 
wholly in vulgar Arabic, as spoken, without those attempts to imi- 
tate the classical language which are characteristic of modern written 

i- "'"] • a Leadcon," i. p. riii. nots •. 

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T6e Talmud. in 

Such facts may prepare us to understand those other facts which 
establish the antiquity of the Talmud. 

The main object of the Talmud is the elucidation and develop- 
ment of the Law. A very important part of the Law is that re* 
lating to crimes. Here the Talmud is as particular as elsewhere, 
not merely discussing the meaning of the Mosaic criminal juris- 
prudence, but laying down minutely how it should be carried out, 
and indicating how it actually was carried out. Yet the Romans 
had taken from the Jews, into their own hands, the administration 
of criminal law full three centuries before the date of the first re- 
daction of the Talmud. 

It will be well to bear in mind the object of the Talmud, for then 
we shall be lees likely to fall into error as to its contents. As it is 
almost the entire Jewish literature of several centuries, we might 
expect abundant historical information; but we must recollect 
that its object was comment on the Law. Those who hope to find in 
it more than vague hints of the chief events in the early history 
of Christianity will be disappointed : narrative would have been 
beyond its province, which is strictly expository and mainly legaL 

Our idea of the historical value of the Talmud, and it has a 
very distinct historical value, may be made clearer by the examina- 
tion of a known historical character as represented in its pages. No 
more marked one could be chosen than Gamaliel, the Gamaliel the 
Elder of the Talmud. 

From the New Testament we see that he was in the front of the 
politics and learning of the age. How great his learning must 
have been is sufficiently evident from St. Paul's knowledge of Greek 
literature. From this and from the only action told of him in 
Scripture, we may conclude that he was liberal and tolerant, perhaps 
even willing to make a compromise with Christian teachers rather 
than to persecute. The Talmud fills in the outline/ What it tells 
as of Gamaliel in his own words or in biographical touches shows a 
singularly learned yet liberal-minded man, strong in his convictions 
yet against persecution, not a secret convert, but a Jew till his death. 
The two pictures are quite consistent, and the more detailed one 
of the Talmud is valuable as a commentary on the clear but scanty 
sketch of the New Testament. 

Take, again, a little archaeological fact. Archaeologists are very 
careful as to their facts, yet they have no scruple in citing the 
Talmud for the period to which the Quarterly writer assigns it. 
Mommsen agrees with Boeckh, and no two names stand higher in 
criticism, in remarking that in the Talmud it is stated that the 
Jewish silver coins were struck on the standard of the Tyrian money. 
This they cite as historical. The statement is undoubtedly true of 

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ii2 The Contemporary Review. 

the first silver coinage, usually assigned to Simon the Maccabee, five 
centuries older than the redaction of the Talmud, and there is no 
other but that of Bar-cochba, three hundred years later ; but the refer- 
ence is evidently to the former, for the Tyrian silver coinage 
ceases with the Roman dominion, and Bar-cochba did but restrike 
Graeco-Roman staters and Roman denarii, neither of which could be 
traced to the Tyrian standard, though both at that time had chanced 
to be accidentally in accordance with it. 

There is, however, a much more serious difficulty than that of 
date. People have heard that the Talmud was " all nonsense/' and it 
is, of course, in the interest of all who neglect Semitic studies to 
have the excellent excuse thus afforded for a capital instance of 
that neglect. But we can scarcely blame those who take this view 
of the Talmud, if we look at what has mostly been written upon it. It 
is very well to be grateful, with the Quarterly writer, to what learning 
and earnestness have been brought to bear upon it before now, but 
looking at the matter from outside, one can scarcely be patient with the 
learned trifling, the utter want of appreciation, of many of these former 
students, whose dry, practical, yet groping, style of work was specially 
unfit for a vast and varied structure that can only be fairly understood 
if it is regarded as a whole, and if the fervid enthusiasm of its many 
builders is taken into account. It has thus, not altogether unreasonably 
been, the fashion to abuse the Talmud, and rest satisfied with one's 
ignorance of what was not worth knowing. But supposing such a view 
to be conceded, there remains the fact that certain ethics have been 
given in this article which are not only not nonsense, but so high a 
kind of sense that any man with a heart to feel and a mind to under- 
stand would gladly wade through a very sea of nonsense to obtain 
them at last. And how much more is there that the writer has not 

The case resembles that of the ancient Egyptians. The Book of 
the Dead, their sacred book, in any translation, even in the elegant 
French of M. de Roug£, is really repulsive ; yet it is the oldest state- 
ment of man's knowledge of the future state, with its rewards and 
punishments in accordance with the life led on earth. A moral work 
of extreme antiquity proves that the Egyptians were capable of, 
worthy ideas of man's chief duties and moral aspirations. And, 
therefore, as we study the dry and unrepaying pages of the Ritual, 
we remember that the very religion of these old Egyptians had 
nobler products, and that the great doctrines were not utterly con- 
cealed by the luxuriant growth of fables. So, in judging the Talmud, 
people would do well to keep the Wisdom of Solomon and Ecclesias- 
ticus before their minds, and to expect some expression of the noble 
ideas they preach. Had they done so already, they would have been 

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The Talmud. 113 

prepared for the discovery of those ethical passages the Quarterly 
writer has here unburied, though they would scarcely have expected 
anything so beautiful and so touching. 

There still remains a difficulty. The Talmud is "antichristian." If 
for some obscure and worthless passages, not contained at all in the 
common editions, we are to condemn the whole literature of a nation 
for eight hundred years, we shall show ourselves less liberal than 
the Tridentine bishops, with whose sanction the Basle edition was 

What we have to do is to look for facts from whatever source they 
come. We can no longer afford to shut out whole races from access 
to us, because we had rather not hear what they have to say. We 
can no longer afford to keep our own people in a padded room lest 
they should hurt themselves against the hard and sharp points of the 
universe. Others, perhaps not our best friends, will have no diffi- 
culty in acting as interpreters to the proscribed races, or in releasing 
our sham lunatics to wander ill-prepared over a world they have 
never been allowed to understand. 

And now, what is the relation of Judaism and Christianity, if we 
accept the data of the Talmud P 

It would seem inevitable from the analogy of nature, and the state- 
ments of Scripture, that two revelations made to the same race should 
have been continuous in some sense, and that the Jews should have 
been ready for Christianity when it was preached to them. Yet, in 
recent times, theologians on the one hand, and philosophers on the 
other, have more and more left the old position, and come to regard 
the two religions as independent, different, even antagonistic and 
hostile, as if, indeed, true religions, like their partisans, could be 
endued with human frailty. Christian doctors have now, at last, 
almost changed place with Jewish leaders, if not with Jewish Rabbins. 
The Jew now generally concedes the sublimity of the Christian reli- 
gion, the Christian almost denies that of the Jewish. The one is 
liberal in spite of his logic, the other is illiberal in even more direct 
defiance of his. 

But let us leave the babble of modern contention and appeal to 
Scripture. The Messiah of the Law is a prophet like unto Moses ; the 
Messiah of the prophets is to bring more light to Israel, and to 
lighten the Gentiles. What said the Lord P " I am not come to 
destroy, but to fulfil. 19 How did St. Paul, and, even more, St. James, 
live the life of the Law P With greater light came greater liberty. 
We know that it was lawful to be a Christian and not a Jew, 
but we will not see that it was lawful and possible to be a Christian 
and also a Jew. 

VOL. VII. 1 

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ii4 'Ihe Contemporary Review. 

There must have been somewhere a very clear continuity, a strong 
and positive point of contact between the two systems. It strangely 
happens that the strongest point of contact is what had been sup- 
posed to be the point of divergence. 

These ethics of the Talmud are not matters of argument ; they 
are matters of fact, and this is equally true of the social condition 
of the Jews in Talmudic and in modern times. The Quarterly writer 
extracts certain proverbial sayings and maxims from the Talmud, 
and there can be no doubt of the lofty morality that they teach. If 
they are in the Talmud, and this I do not suppose any one will con- 
test, it is useless to pretend not to see them. The social condition of 
the Jews, for many centuries past, surprisingly tallies with the Tal- 
mudical teaching, and this is a very important point, to be later con* 
sidered. We remember the terrible deed and its terrible conse- 
quences, but we do not remember that Christ and the Apostles 
came of the Jewish stock. We are too ready to forget the liberty to 
speak in so many synagogues conceded to the Apostles ; too ready to 
forget how little the Jews retaliated the shameful persecutions of the 
middle ages ; too ready to see the faults of an ambitious race shut out 
for centuries from politics, and driven to the degrading pursuit of 
commerce; too ready to ignore the docile citizenship, the open- 
handed liberality which subscribes not only to our hospitals, but also 
to our churches, the social virtues of the Jews in the East, mark this, 
as well as in the West. 

When shall we be Christians enough to understand St. Paul's tender 
outburst, attested with even unusual earnestness, and concluding with 
a marked attestation of Christian faith P " I have great heaviness and 
continual sorrow in my heart. For I would wish that myself were 
accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the 
flesh: who are Israelites; to whom [pertaineth] the adoption, and 
the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the 
service, and the promises; whose [are] the fathers, and of whom as 
concerning the flesh Christ [came], who is over all, God blessed for 
ever.' 1 When shall we be Christians enough to weep with Christ 
over Jerusalem P 

It is in the ethics of the Talmud that we find the key to the con* 
tinuity of the two dispensations and to the social virtues of the Jews. 
It must not be forgotten that in the Talmud even monogamy, and 
yet more, the highest position ever given to the wife, is practically 

Is there anything surprising in all this P Was not the Law an 
education for the Gospel P Did all the prophets and all their disciples 
preach in vainP Was good, after it had done so much, utterly 
deprived of growth when the last prophet ceased to speak P Later 

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The Talmud. 115 

still, was the Law annihilated, instead of superseded, by the Gospel, 
which was more free, more capacious,* but only another true religion, 
not contrary Mid hostile to that of which it was the fulfilment and 
the enlargement P People glory, and glory rightly, in the gradual 
hmnaniaation of the world by the silent, even more than by the 
open 1 ; action of Christianity. Was the Law without such a leavening 
power, or rather, did it suddenly and for eyer lose what no historical 
student will dare to deny to it? The difficulty lies only in our 

But precisely, what are these ethics of the Talmud, and what is 
their precise relation to those of Christianity P 

In examining the ethics of any nation we should carefully abstain 
from d priori reasoning, and looking the facts in the face, ask them, 
with all the earnestness of which we are masters, — Whence and 

But, before we do this, we should thank the God and Father of 
our race, who has left no nation without moral light, — to some has 
revealed the crystalline brightness that seems scarcely to have lost 
aught of its splendour since it shone from the very throne of the 
source of light and truth. So alone can we approach what is a sacred 
task, not to be done with profane haste, or with minute, carping, 
querulous trifling. 

Whence, then, these Jewish ethics P 

From the patriarchal religion, from the moral law, from the 
teaching of prophets and schools of prophets, from the great sorrows 
of Israel, all contemplated, and most of all the Scripture itself^ 
in an age of intense devout study, after the nation had been in- 
fluenced by the culture of every other great nation of the old world. 
If truth, and most of all divine truth, is fruitful, it can never cease 
to grow and spread, developing out of itself not new truths, but new 
phases of truth, to the very end of time. 

Prophets, saints, and witnesses did not teach and suffer in vain. 
Israel did not fear and hope, sin much and love more, in vain. Out 
of the mass of instruction came higher moral insight and clearer 
moral truth. 

What, then, were these ethics P 

True to their origin, their root always, their flower often, is in 
the Old Testament. When ceremonialism was too strong, or much 
of it was lost in the ruins of the first temple, ethics were the protest 
or the solace of the faithful So when Roman imperialism was 
surrounding the Jewish state, and cutting off its free action, 
ethics reasserted their power. When the temple had fallen, and 
there was no present hope of its restoration, the nation had to choose 
between Christianity and its own ethics. It partly chose one, partly the 

1 2 

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1 1 6 The Contemporary Review. 

other. It was not indeed without dogma, strong, clear, well-defined 
dogma, yet ethics met, as ceremonies had, a human want. 

There is, as we might anticipate, something very special and 
peculiar in these ethics. They are rather similar than identical, 
rather parallel than historically related, if we compare them with 
those of the Gospel. The Talmudic adage says, " Above all thifigs, 
study." Christianity teaches the simplicity, almost the ignor- 
ance, of childhood. Jewish ethics were, if not limited to the 
doctors and schools, yet their property; Christian ethics were 
preached to the common people, the ignorant and the vicious, 
publicans and harlots. Jewish ethics have a fragile and tender 
beauty that made them scarcely equal to pass from the ideal calm of 
learning into the great conflict of the world. Like certain touching 
modern systems, the systems of pure-minded idealists, they almost 
fail to realise the existence of evil. But, after all, there is evil, and 
any system that does not look it in the face and fight it to the last 
must go down in the wear and tear of life, if indeed it do not end in 
self-righteous separation. Christianity, while in no way inferior in 
its ethics, recognizes the existence of evil, combats it, releases its slaves, 
points sternly to the end of its servants. The Mishnah has no hell. 
It is curious to notice how mankind, when determined to reason out 
the problems of good and evil, fall either into ignoring or giving 
undue weight to evil, either into universalism or Manichseism. The 
Talmud almost shuts its eyes to evil, the Zend-avesta sees it where it 
is not. But let me not be supposed to underrate the ethics of the 
Talmud. Very soon I shall be able to show by comparison with other 
systems their lofty height. 


Here it becomes necessary to examine the theory which makes the 
ethics of Judaism and Christianity mere natural products of the 
Shemite mind, a theory that has been propounded with astonishing 
confidence by the very men who had ample means of knowing how 
fallacious it was. Those who may think that this question is beyond 
the province of the present article will have reason to change their 
opinion when they see how clearly a historical view of Shemite 
ethics affords materials for that comparison of which I have just 
spoken as enabling us rightly to estimate the ethics of the Talmud. 

Much of the ethics of the New Testament, in particular of the self- 
denying precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, strike a Shemite and 
a European, I would almost write a " Frank," to exclude the Turks, 
very differently. Go to a Shemite and tell him to return good for 
evil, to love his enemies, to give his goods to the poor, and he, be he 
Christian, Jew, Muslim, or skeptic, will answer with a sigh, " This 
is all true, but I am a sinner, and I cannot perform it." Go to a 

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The Talmud. . 117 

European and he will hear you with incredulity, and then tell you 
that it is all eastern figurative language, and that society could not 
hold together if such precepts were practised. 

It is remarkable that in one province of ethics, the Shemite and 
the European change places. All Shemites, without a revelation, 
all but Christians and Jews, would be incredulous as to the practice 
of those precepts which refer to the virtue that is the very crown of 
morality, and so significantly enough has among us taken its name, 
while Europeans would acknowledge that they ought to be practised, 
and lament their own human feebleness. 

It ought never to be forgotten that the society of early Christians 
by which the golden rules of the Gospel were first practised, the true 
ideal life first lived, was a society of Shemites, a society composed, 
not of select scholars or unworldly ascetics, but of the whole body of 
believers in Christ, and therefore something wider than the largest 
hopes of Judaism. We have to realise what this society was and 
what it did, and then to remember that it was a society of Shemites, 
a matter which deserves closer examination, for it is of momentous 

The history of the Shemite race in relation to religion and morals can 
be better understood if we look at the picture in the Bible of the king- 
dom of Israel at the time of Elijah. We see a nation of believers and 
of misbelievers, of the purest believers and of the grossest idolaters, 
grouped round the central figure of Elijah, the ascetic man of God, 
and of Ahab, the sensual man of the world, a nation divided between 
belief that taught social morality and nurtured the germ of its full* 
grown plant, and idolatry, which was but the excuse for the lowest 
and coarsest vices : this is but a single view in the history of a race 
that has been at once the foremost in monotheism, and among the 
very lowest in polytheism, holding sternly by the very simplest form 
of belief and worship the world has ever seen, except the belief and 
worship of the Church of the Apostles, and yet given over to the 
basest and most debasing idolatry, to idolatry from which Greeks 
shrank as contemptible, and Romans as cruel, and, again, the race 
that has practised the most chivalrous monogamy, and yet is to this 
day the only one that has combined the degradation of polygamy 
with high intellectual culture. In different periods of its history 
the separate lines so strongly marked in that picture of the kingdom 
of Samaria strangely divide, but they never mix. If a pagan 
Shemite has a faint knowledge of monotheism, it is never fused into 
his paganism, but, like a line of precious ore, appears here and there 
in the midst of the dark mass of common earth ; if he has glimpses 
of a pure social morality, he sees them, not in the lurid mists of his 
own paganism, but in the far-off sky overhead, pure as that which 
shone on his parents in the Paradise of God. 

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yiS The Contemporary Review. 

A paradox, or rather a miracle, is this race, which was for at least 
two thousand years the exponent to mankind and in itself of true 
religion and high ethics, which now, in Mohammadanisro is the great 
opponent of the universal trhunph of both. One thing we may 
safely conclude, that wherever we trace true religion and pure ethics, 
there we may infer Shemite influence, but we must beware of the 
fallacy involved in the converse. The Shemite was the missionary 
race of the ancient world, but the truth was a treasure in its charge, 
not an inheritance it had by nature. 

I will take two examples which prove what will be seen to be of 
no small importance, that the ethics of the Talmud are in their germ 
of extreme antiquity. 

Scripture speaks not merely of the knowledge of right and wrong 
granted to the Gentiles, but of a primaBval knowledge of the true God, 
given to the fathers of mankind. 

The old Egyptians were partly Shemites. Their aspect, their 
language, and, most of all, their religion, contain the proof that the 
constant influx of Arab blood that is still changing the African popu- 
lations is no new phenomenon, but that the same current has set in 
that direction since the very beginnings of the history of nations. 
The Book of the Dead, already mentioned, deals wholly with the 
welfare of the soul in the after state, and thus in the midst of the 
jargon of Nigritian incantations we find, like the Semitic grammar 
of the essentially barbaric language of Egypt, the inculcation of 
man's responsibility, and the moral conduct by which he should gain 
happiness in the future of his soul. But this is not alL Even amidst 
the multitudinous and incoherent vocabulary of gods and genii, 
where names are often as monstrous as their forms, we are startled 
to read of God in the singular, or, if you will, in the abstract. Thus 
the babble of polytheism could not drown the pristine knowledge of 
truth, as on some storm-beaten coast, above the discordant clamour of 
the many- voiced sea-fowl, rises and mils, yet never ceases to sound, 
the solemn roar of the vast ocean. 

But even these remarkable facts are not enough to prepare us for 
the teaching of an old Egyptian book of moral precepts. Here we 
find the bondage of idolatry almost shaken off. Once embarked in 
his subject, the ancient sage dismisses the divinities of Egypt, and 
founds his teaching on man's responsibility to God. 

The proverbs of Ptah-hetp form part of the oldest manuscript in 
the world ; the original was still older, a work of probably not later 
than b.c. 2100. 

The writer speaks to mankind as a father to a son. The object of 
man is the attainment of long and happy life. The way of attain- 
ing it is by virtue, which is life ; while vice is death. Virtue is due 
to God, and springs from filial obedience. No part of duty is more 

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The Talmud. 119 

strongly insisted on than the duty of husband to wife ; the husband 
to the one wife. No evil is so great as that which springs from the 

" The obedience of a docile son is a good deed : the obedient walks 
in his obedienoe^ and he who listens to him becomes obedient : it is 
good to listen to all that can produce love ; it is the greatest of 
goods. The son who receives the words of his father will therefore 
become old. Obedience is loved of God ; disobedience is hated of 
Him. The heart is master of the man in obedience, and in disobe- 
dience ; but man vivifies his heart by his docility." 

" The rebel who does not obey, does absolutely nothing ; he sees 
knowledge in ignorance, virtues in vices ; every day he commits with 

audacity all kinds of fraud, and so he lives as if he were dead 

What the wise know to be death is his life every day ; he advances 
in his ways loaded with a mass of curses every day." 

" If thou art wise, take care of thy house ; love thy wife heartily, 
nourish her, clothe her ; it is the adornment of her body ; anoint 
her, rejoice her during the time of thy life." 

"A rook of abominations whence it is impossible to remove one- 
self [is the bad woman] ; she outrages fathers and husbands with 
the minions of the harlot ; the woman who seeks man is an assem- 
blage of every kind of horror, a bag of every kind of fraud." 

With such teaching as this the history of the nation has much in 
common — most of all in the high dignity of the wife, who, in the 
tomb, is represented seated by her husband's side, hand-in-hand, as 
she sat by him in life at their feasts, the one wife, whose title is 
"lady of the house." 

It is very curious to compare the teaching of a work so strikingly 
resembling the Book of Proverbs with the direct appeal of the Book 
of the Dead to the belief in future rewards and punishments, not 
indeed that the idea that the good man is really living, the wicked 
man really dead, already in this Kfe, can exclude the notion of 
future life and future death, for it rather aids it. But, though we 
may remark in passing, that the Israelites in Egypt, and for the 
centuries before David, could scarcely have been ignorant of the 
ancient Egyptian knowledge that there was a future state, it is 
important to observe that the real point of contact between the 
remains of old Shemite religion in Egypt and the later moral teach- 
ing of the Old Testament is ethical. And it is still more curious to 
observe how completely the lofty ethical level of the Biblical work 
in reference to the marriage state connects it on the one hand with 
the Egyptian moral book before it, on the other with the Talmudical 
sayings after it. The Egyptian book is but a bud, but it is a bud of 
good promise. That the Jews of the age of Moses were for the 
hardness of their hearts allowed a greater latitude than either 

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120 The Contemporary Review. 

the older Egyptian writer, or the later Hebrew of the Book of Pro- 
verbs concedes, is but a proof of their low state of civilization. But 
the -germ was in the Jewish race, and it survived, and ultimately 
threw off polygamy, to which the noble Arab has fallen a victim. 

I have spoken of documents far anterior to Moses ; let me speak of 
the life of another Shemite native long after him. 

People are becoming accustomed to think of Mohammad as a 
reformer, and no doubt he effected reforms of great value in the 
stern suppression of infanticide and the tightening of the marriage 
bond. He found his people mainly idolaters, and for the most part 
idolaters of the basest kind ; he left them strict monotheists ; yet 
he crushed out a tender feeling of chivalry that was true to the 
Shemite heart after God had once given it this precious jewel, and 
that was parallel to the same feeling in the Talmud, anticipating, but 
not so clearly, the heights reached by Dante and by Petrarch, and by 
our own Surrey and Spenser. 

The romance of Antar (properly Antarah) is a modern composition 
of inferior interest, viewed either for plot or execution, and written 
in a miserable style. It has, however, this remarkable characteristic. 
The moral purity of Antar's love for 'Ibla is quite unexcelled in the 
romances and poems of modern chivalry. And the story has been 
heard and admired in the tents of thousands of desert Arabs, and 
though the Muslim doctors have placed it in their index, has been for 
long past recited at Cairo by men who take their name from its title ; 
and yet in not one passage does it, as far as I have heard, or any 
orientalist is aware, contain an appeal to the baser feelings of the 
people. Antarah, though like the brilliant Esh-Shanfar&, also a 
hero and a poet, a raven, or Arab with black blood in his veins, 
is emphatically the national hero. 

Antarah was a poet of the age before Mohammad, and in the Seven 
"Suspended" Poems which remain to us of those which were hung in 
the Ka'abeh at Mekkeh, one is by him. A pagan of those wicked 
poets whose works Mohammad proscribed in public, but recited in 
secret, Antarah's remains show the reason of the national choice. 

listen to the criticism of an Arab writer, unhappily anonymous. 

" I would that we had with our Isl&m the generosity of manners 
of our fathers in their paganism. Antarah of the horsemen was a 
pagan, and Hasan, son of H&nee, a Muslim. Antarah was restrained 
within the bounds of duty by his honour, and El-Hasan, son of 
H&nee, was not at all restrained by his religion." 

If we institute another comparison between the ethics of the 
Talmud and those of Mohammedanism we shall be struck by a 
similarity and a difference, that will help us to see how high the 
former stand in the moral scale. 

The so-called proverbs or sayings of 'Alee afford the most favour- 

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The Talmud. 1 2 1 

\ view of Mohammadan ethics. It is to be regretted that they 
have not been the subject of a critical analysis, for it is sufficiently 
evident that there has grown around the first nucleus a very litera- 
ture of the moral sayings of the best and purest of those who have 
followed the teaching of the gentlest of the first Mohammadans. So 
various are these sayings, that they could not possibly have been the 
thoughts of one life, were there no other evidence of the later date of 
some of them. 

Of religion in general we have such sayings as "No higher honour 
than to be Godfearing. Fear God, then thou hast nothing else to fear. 
Trust in God ; He will suffice thee. Wisdom is the lost she-camel of 
the faithful ;" — this last a striking picture. The Arab awakes in the 
desert, and looking round the vast shield of waste, he sees no trace of 
his property and his support, and sets forth at once to exercise all his 
power of tracking until he discovers the treasure he has lost. 

But besides these general precepts, there are two very distinct 
classes : those which teach the religion of the asceticism that has 
abandoned the world, and those which teach a religion which sets 
ethics at the very front and determines to better the world. " Well 
to him who has no family," an intensely non-Shemite outburst of 
asceticism. " Hopelessness is free : hope a slave." On the other 
hand, here aie ethical sayings which make religion mainly morality. 
" A third part of belief is modesty, a third part understanding, a 
third beneficence." "The blow of a friend pains more than any 
other." " A man without humanity is also without religion." " By 
good deeds man makes free men slaves." " Do good to him who 
does ill to thee : thus wilt thou be his master." " Thy brother is the 
man who stands by thee in misfortune." "The guardian of an 
infant is himself sustained by God." " A generous unbeliever 
has more hope of Paradise than an avaricious Muslim." "No 
honour to the liar." 

Two sayings may be quoted as protests against our current opinion 
of the whole Mohammadan world. " The man bowed with sorrow is 
highly esteemed of God." "Bliss in the next world is better than 
enjoyment in this." 

But here I must not stop. Where are the virtues of married life? 
All I find is a stray saying, such as this, — " No truth in woman." 
Here, alas ! is the blot and shame of Islam. You may look up and 
down Muslim literature in vain for one pearl of such a string as the 
author of the article in the Quarterly has strung together, the fruits 
of the trees of Paradise. 

* Let me not be supposed, in having collected some few Egyptian 
and Arab sayings, to have attempted anything to be compared with 
the life's labour of the essay I am endeavouring to illustrate. I am but 
indicating sources of knowledge and subjects to be compared, trying 

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122 The Contemporary Review. 

a little to break up the rough ground that lies about this city of 

Very slightly, and with an anxious mind, I have endeavoured t*> 
show the capacity of Shemites to practice a high moral code, and 
that such a code, in a rudimentary form, was from a very early date 
known to them, and yet that it was not a natural outgrowth or 
acquisition of study, but the direct gift of God, found nowhere but 
among those who have other traces of revelation, if not a revelation 


The point of contact of Judaism and Christianity has been 
examined at some length. The point of divergence has now to be 
noticed. There are people who are inclined to ask whether, if the 
ethics of the Talmud be such as the Quarterly writer has represented 
them, in the very words of the Talmud be it remembered, there is 
anything new in Christianity. These people are in fact uneasy at 
the discovery that they are after all only Jews, and unfortunately 
very indifferent Jews, Jews that Hillel would have sighed over and 
Shammai driven away from his door. They have nothing of 
Christianity but its ethics, and these seen through a very dense modern 
atmosphere. Christianity differs from Judaism somewhat in its ethics, 
but far more in carrying those ethics to all mankind, to the very 
outcasts, and, most of all, in its dogmatic system. Those who attack 
Judaism from a supposed Christian point of view, and have not 
ascertained whether they can take that point of view, are necessarily 
very feeble critics. I do not wish to be thought to depreciate the 
splendid ethics of Judaism ; I would not be so foolish, if I dared to be 
so wicked ; but I must protest against the idea, that neither Jews nor 
Christians could admit, that either revelation is wholly ethical. 

There is a minor bearing of the Quarterly article which, minor 
though it be, may ultimately be of greater importance than any 
other. The time will come when the relation of Judaism and 
Christianity will be understood and acknowledged, but it will be 
long before the value of so difficult a book as the Talmud as a com- 
mentary is recognised. It is so much more convenient to have 
one's commentaries in Greek and Latin, not very difficult Greek or 
Latin either, than in Hebrew, and a Chaldee which has nothing more 
than tentative dictionaries and no grammars. The very dates of the 
redaction of the Talmud lead to the conclusion of its being necessarily 
a comment on the New Testament, and this essay brings out designed 
and undesigned evidence, of which I cannot refrain from here 
giving a few points. 

The view of Phariseeism in the Quarterly article at first sight 

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lheTahmuL 123 

seems irreconcilable with the statement* of the New Testament. We 
had been accustomed to regard the Pharisees of the time in question 
as a sect, or party, comprising bat a small portion of the Jewish 
nation, perhaps not more numerous than the Sadducees. We are now 
told that the Pharisees were the great body of the nation ; the 
Sadduoees a small aristocratic party.* The real state of things will be 
better understood if we consider a parallel case. In every Roman 
Catholic country there is a preponderance of Roman Catholics, and a 
small body of dissenters or skeptics, \>ut within the body of Roman 
Catholics is a Catholic party, or parti pritre. The Pharisees condemned 
in the New Testament are not the whole body, but the leading men, the 
Pharisees who gloried in being Pharisees, the very people whom the 
Talmud condemns almost without exception. We can now under- 
stand the seemingly unqualified condemnation of the Pharisees in the 
Gospels, and St. Paul's declaration that he was a Pharisee, a declara- 
tion no man of his unflinching courage would have made had he not 
known he could make it honestly and unreservedly. In the con- 
troversy as to the obligation of converts to keep the Law, the conser- 
vative view was urged by Pharisees who believed. 

In the account in the Quarterly of the criminal law of the Mishnah 
there is a deeply touching comment on the most sacred part of Gospel 
history. The reviewer tells us that the .ladies of Jerusalem formed 
a society which provided a soporific beverage of myrrh and vinegar 
to alleviate the sufferings of those that were executed, f We can now 
understand the rejection of the first draught, which was offered to 
Christ before his suffering, and also a special reason for the presence 
of the Jewish women, " daughters of Jerusalem/ 9 " who bewailed and 
lamented him." 

A very curious inquiry is opened by the suggestion that moral 
sayings, hitherto considered to have originated in Christian teaching, 
were already current at an earlier time. Such an idea gives great 
umbrage to those who are unaccustomed to look at the whole of 
Revelation in one general view ; who, having been delighted with 
the quotation by St. Paul of some heathen sage, are shocked at the 
notion that our Lord could have quoted a pious Rabbi. Why should 
not a pious Rabbi have been quoted when the saying of a narrow 
ascetic was condemned P 
There can, however, be no doubt that certain popular teachers of the 

* [Lightfoot, Vestibulum Talmud** HierosolymiUmi, p. 28, had told us precisely this : 
" Pharisaismus .... state gentis erat religio." " De schismate Sadducseorum hie non 
curiose agemiis." Indeed, Joseph us had long ago said the same. See Antt. xiii. 10, 7 : 
t&v pkv *2a85ovKaiiov roi>^ tviropovg fiovov wudovriav .... rwv 8k Gapiaalutv t6 
w\ii0OQ trtfifiaxw J%6Waii». — Ed.] 

f [Oar knowledge of this fact does not date from the article in the Quarterly. light- 
foot, Hot. Hebr. y on Matt, xxvii. 34, gives from the BabyL Sanhedr. foL 43. 1 : " Traditio 
est, feminas generosas Hierosolymitanas hoc e spontaneo sumptn suo exhibuisse." — Ed.] 

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1 24 The Contemporary Review. 

age of Christ and the Apostles stand at a great disadvantage by the 
side of the teachers of the final redaction of the Talmud. There is 
no doubt that some of the Jewish doctors of that age held aloof, and 
left instruction to religious impostors, men who then, as in all ages, 
thought that religion consisted of dresses, services, seasons, days, 
times of devotion, length of prayers, postures, and all that is excluded 
by the idea of " the faith of the heart," to which the Talmud reduces 
all the commandments of the Law (p. 438). Had any belief not 
been able, through the kind force of calamity, to throw off much of 
such withering delusion, and this the Jewish belief had undoubtedly 
done long ago, it would have perished altogether, eaten up by a 
miserable crust of formalism. But as the Jews have undoubtedly 
long thrown off very much of this coating, why should we not believe 
their books, when they show us how long ago this was done P 


What, then, is the result of this evidence brought to bear upon 
the history of religion P 

1. The essential identity of Jewish and Christian morality. 

2. The Jewish origin of modern social virtues. 

3. The continuity of revelation. 
But this is by no means all. 

Ingenious critics, better versed in the literary history of the 
Greeks than of the Jews, have constructed a chain with Plato at 
one end, and St. Paul at the other, with the Alexandrian Jews and 
notably Philo between. This theory must now be abandoned. 
Thinkers of the same school have been at great pains to derive 
modern social virtues from a German or a Roman source. Their 
theories are equally disproved. Most of all has there been a ten- 
dency in almost all theologians and critics to draw a sharp line 
between the Law and the Gospel, if not to consider the Law as in no 
sense a revelation. This position is now reversed, and the two reve- 
lations, as heretofore, must be held to stand or fall together. 

In the Quarterly article a key-note has been struck. The world 
has now a right to expect from the author a fuller description of the 
wondrous realms he has journeyed through in order to produce this 
heart-moving essay, in which justice is done to an illustrious race, and 
a grand book, both long oppressed under the weight of suspicion, 
hatred, and jealousy. 

As I finish a not easy labour, for it is not easy to form even the 
slightest estimate of the great problems I have dared to face, 
I remember it is Christmas-Day, and there rings in my ears its 
divine message : 

" Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will 
toward men." 

Reginald Stuaet Poolb. 

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The Keys of St. Peter ; or, the House of Rechab. By Ebnest DB Bunsen. London : 


MEENEST DE BUNSEN, inheriting much of the wide discursive knowledge 
• of his illustrious father, and uniting with it a strong taste for new com- 
binations of facts and the perception of remote analogies, continues in this work 
the line of thought which was worked at some length in his two volumes on the 
"Hidden Wisdom of Christ." There the main thesis was, that from the time 
of Zoroaster (whom he identified with Adam), there had been a traditional 
transmission of spiritual truths, such as are found in the nobler elements of the 
Zend- A vesta ; that from time to time these were uttered by Hebrew teachers, as 
in the description of Wisdom in the Book of Proverbs ; that after the return from 
Babylon they were kept secret by the Jewish teachers of Palestine, and were 
partially uttered by those of Alexandria in the Wisdom of Solomon and Ecole- 
siasticus ; that these formed the basis of the Gospel which was preached to the 
multitude in parables, and communicated in fulness to the disciples. The dif- 
ference between the teaching of St. Paul and of the Apostles of the Circumcision 
was, that he proclaimed without reserve, while they strove for a time to conceal, 
this apocryphal (in the sense of hidden) wisdom. The relation of the Gospel of 
St. Jonn to that of the other three is explained in the same way. 

The " Hidden Wisdom of Christ" met with more appreciation from foreign 
than from English critics. Some of the latter were shocked at the idea of the 
distinction drawn between our Lord's esoteric and exoteric teaching; some 
looked on the book as a revival of Gnosticism ; some were sceptical as to the 
evidence on which the theories were based. M. Emile Burnouf, on the other 
hand, in the Revue dee Deux Mondes, welcomed it as a valuable contribution to 
the science of religion, and assigned to it a high place among the most 
" remarkable" treatises on that subject. 

In "The Keys of St. Peter" M. de Bunsen brings before us yet more startling 
theories as the result of his researches in the interval. Starting from the facts 
brought together in the article Rechabites in Smith's " Dictionary of the Bible," 
that the house of Bechab belonged to the Kenites ; that they played a con- 
spicuous part in the religious revolution under Jehu ; that they were welcomed 
by the prophet Jeremiah, and ultimately incorporated by adoption into the tribe 
of Levi, he goes on to find traces of these Kenites through the whole history of 
Israel. In the Rechabites he sees those who, taking their names from Bechab, 
the " chariot" of light, were, through a long succession of centuries, the vehicles 
by which the hidden wisdom of divine trutn that had come from the primeval 
revelation given to the Aryan races was transmitted to the Christian Church. 

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1 26 The Contemporary Review. 

Israel is thus represented as a mixed race, — half Aryan, half African. The 
former is throughout the purer and nobler — the preacher of a loftier mono- 
theism; the latter tends to fall back to fetiche- worship and idolatry. Melchi- 
zedek, Job (M. de Bunsen hints his belief in their identity), Jethro, Caleb, 
Joshua, David, Asaph, Jeremiah, are the representatives of the Kenite element 
The questions which gather round the names of Jehovah and Elohim are settled 
in the same way. The former is the Kenite, the latter the Hebrew name. The 
use of the two names, separately or jointly, in history, or prophecy, or psalm, 
represents the parallelism or the confluence of the two streams of tradition. In 
the twofold lines of Eleazer and Ithamar in the Aaronic priesthood, in the pairs 
of the Scribal succession, as in Hillcl and Shammai, he finds the same indica- 
tion of a double origin. The Sadducees and the Sadducean priesthood are 
Hebrews — the " Son of David " and the first disciples Kenites. The Pharisees 
are Kenites, who wish to keep their doctrine within a narrow circle of disciples. 
The Christianity of St. Paul was the revelation to all men of the Kenite Gospel. 
But though it was thus proclaimed in its broad outlines, M. de Bunsen holds 
that there was a vast body of truths, originally Kenite, still hidden. The symbols 
in the Revelation of St. John and other apocalyptic books, these, which gather 
up the older symbols of the Sacred volume, still await an explanation. 
Tneir relation to the. idolatry which grew out of them and overshadowed them, 
the mysteries of Incarnation and Redemption, the relations between the Bible 
and the Church, — all the questions which the Bible suggests but does not answer, 
the developments of doctrine in Ecclesiastical History, — these are referred to 
" the keys of St. Peter," and to the " progressive consciousness of the Church," 
of which the See of Rome, in its historical continuity, is the supreme living 
representative. To Rome accordingly he turns for an answer to many questions 
which, we fancy, would task the powers of Pius IX. and his advisers. 

" There is a gulf, and it must be bridged over. Canons of interpretation are the 
requirements of the age. They can only be supplied by the revelation of what is 
hidden, the Apocalypse of the Apocrypha. How were the Gospels gradually composed 
in the form we received them from the Church in the fourth century ? What became 
of St. Matthew's Hebrew Gospel, — that which St Jerome translated P What became of 
the ' Expositions of the Sayings of the Lord,' based upon the teachings of the elders, 
by Bishop Papias, to which work St Irenffius and Eusebius refer as existing in their 
time ? What share did St. Mark, St. Luke, and St. John take in the transmission of 
Apostolic tradition P How are symbols to be interpreted ? These are some of tho 
urgent questions of the day. What we know not, the successors of St. Peter, the 
possessors of the keys of St. Peter, of the key of David, do know ; unless we assume 
that the tradition of this Church has become a mere fiction, and is in no sense * the 
memory of the Church.' Let the mystery of Babylon fall. Let Home speak." 

We have thought it due to M. de Bunsen's name, to his wide reading and 
manifest earnestness, thus to sketch the outline of a theory which we cannot 
adopt, and which seems to us based upon conjectural identifications, often upon 
precarious etymologies, often upon a series of probabilities or possibilities dealt 
with as facts. To tne final demand of the passage we have just quoted wo fear 
the only answer of the See of St. Peter would be, as with the vexed question 
of the temporal power, the familiar, oft-repeated " Non possumus" But in this, 
as in his former book, tho reader who can keep his head clear amid the fascina- 
tion of new theories and the whirl of transformed facts will find much informa- 
tion gleaned from the works of great Oriental scholars, and many suggestions, 
often fruitful, which throw light upon familiar, yet obscure, mots in Sacred 

The Continuity of Scripture, as declared by the Testimony of our Lord and of the 
Evangelist* and Apostles. By William Page Wood, Yioe-Chancellor. 
London : John Murray. 

This useful little book consists mainly of the testimonies of our Lord and of 
the New Testament writers, cited at lengtn and placed in juxtaposition with the 
Old Testament passages to which they refer. They are arranged in the order of 
the Old Testament books, to show how large a portion of them are there attested. 
The work is preceded and followed by some very valuable remarks of Sir W. 
Page Wood's on the subject which he thus desires to illustrate, the Continuity 
of Scripture. This, in his preface, he considers under three heads :— 

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Notices of Books. 1 27 

" 1. The Historical Unify of subject, — the great epic, if I may venture reverently so 
to call it, of the Creation, Fall, and Restoration of man. 2. The Moral TTnity ; or, tho 
TTnity of design with reference to man's moral preparation for the great work of Re- 
demption. 3. The Spiritual Unity; or, the uniform declaration of the complete 
Restoration of fallen man to hia Father's love, by the free mercy of God the Father, 
through God the Son as a Mediator, — One who, though man, should be free from man's 
guilt, and willing to offer up Himself as an atoning sacrifice for all mankind, thereby 
drawing all ineuto Him, and purchasing for them the gift of God the Holjr Ghost, by 
whom their hearts would be renewed to a state of loving obedienoe." — (P. xii.) 

These three he then follows out with much clearness and simplicity, giving, as 
he passes on, many valuable hints on each. 

In his postscript he deals with the still abiding effect of God's Word on the 
human race as a portion of the subject without which its consideration would be 
incomplete. There is no more powerful consideration than this in aid of our most 
holy faith — that while other writings, other schools of thought, other influences, 
have had their day, and have passed away, the work and influence of this Book 
has not only survived them all, but is manifestly even now only in its youth, 
so to speak; is pregnant with mightier changes among mankind than any 
article which history has yet seen; still, changes which the Book is fully 
capable of accomplishing, and which, when brought about, will but lead to 
more and more yet, by us unseen and but faintly suspected. 

In thankfully recommending this little book, we quote, as a sample of what 
is to be looked for in it, one of its concluding sentences : — 

"The personal sense of this blessed continuity in those who have once heartily wel- 
comed the teaching of their Bible is a matter of experience, which addressing, as I do, 
believers in its truth, I may also thankfully dwell upon. I do not believe that any one 
who has sought for guidance or comfort in its pages has ever failed in his hope ; though, 
of course, to any one who reads simply to criticise, or to judge that Word by which we 
"believe we shall be judged, it would be vain to address any argument deduced from 
personal experience." — (P. 127.) 

The History of Israel to the Death of Moses. By Heixeioh Ewai*d, Professor 
of the University of Gottingen. Translated from the German. Edited, 
with a Preface, by Russell Mabtineau, M.A., Professor of Hebrew in 
Manchester New College, London. London : Longmans. 
This translation represents but a fragment of the seven volumes of Ewald's 
" History of Israel —a work, observes Professor Martineau, extensively 
studied in our Universities, as well as much admired by many eminent writers 
out of Germany. Some of the latter are quoted in the preface, as M. Ernest 
Benan, Dr. Rowland Williams, and Dean Stanley, who characterizes the " His- 
tory of Israel" as " a noble work," though he disagrees with many of its general 
statements. Professed students, trained not only to habits of severe attention 
bat also* to the guarded weighing of all they read, and accustomed to gather 
their stores from flowers of every leaf, will make their gains from this erudite 
work, even if they should consider its main principles, as we do most 
thoroughly, unsound. An elaborate Analytical Table, by the editor, is at once 
a proof of the reader a need of assistance and of the logical arrangement of the 
author's matter. The hermeneutio discoveries of the Gottingen professor (as 
far as the present volume is concerned) are, that the Pentateuch is the compo- 
sition of various authors, whose several shares he even undertakes to define ; 
and, in accordance with this system, the " Five Books of Mosej " are distributed 
between the "Book of Origins," the "Prophetical Narrators of the Primitive 
Histories," the "Third Narrator of the Primitive Histories, " the *• Fourth 
Narrator, &c," and the " Deuteronomist.'' For the reader's further infor- 
mation of Ewald's treatment of the early Bible history we cannot do better 
thai extract the following passage from the Editor's preface:—* 

" When. Ewald shows us Abraham as a ' representative man,' and his wanderings as 
those of a large tribe, and the quarrels of Jacob and Esau as great international strug- 
gles between the Hebrew and Arabian tribes, rather than the petty strife of a few 
herdsmen, the history assumes a grander scale than we had any idea of before ; and we 
look with heightened eagerness for what more it may disclose. Stories which before 
amused us with their prettiness, now tell of the fates of empires and the development 
of nations ; and we see why they have been preserved from an antiquity so high that 
the deeds of individuals have long been obliterated." — (Pref., p. 9.) 

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128 T'he Contemporary Review. • 

He also tells us that ' ' the earliest period of the life of the Greeks, Romans, and 
Hebrews is now called mythical ; " and that Ewald has done for the Hebrew His- 
tory what O. Muller and Niebuhr have done for the Greek and Roman. Well, we 
Tenture to assert that if " the strife of a few herdsmen " is only " petty," the 
"international straggle between the Hebrew and Arabian tribes" is nothing 
very great ; and if the frog strain ever so much, she will never look like " the 
fates of empires and the development of nations." And further, if the mass of 
English Bible-readers may no longer see in the patriarchal histories a revela- 
tion of the Father of man leading His children in their individual and family 
life, but are shut up to the alternative of picking up crumbs of antiquarian lore 
in allegorical disguise, they will cease to read those histories at all, or the 
Book in which they are found. 

On Miracle* and Prophecy. By William J. Irons, D.D., Prebendary of St. 
Paul 8. London: Hayes. 

We trust that we shall not offend the able and learned author of this book by 
saying that he seems to us to be theologically a ' ' cross " between Thomas Aquinas 
and Dr. Bowland Williams. Carrying out the argument of his treatise on 
" The Bible and its Interpreters," he gathers up all t^e doubts and difficulties 
which can bewilder the plain, Protestant, " Bible Christian," and makes him feel 
that he has not a leg to stand on. If he changes his position, and takes up the 
ground of historical evidence and criticism, men Dr. Irons assails hi-m as the 
"literary Christian" with new perplexities, dwells on the boundlessness and 
hopelessness of the task before him, on the manifold contradictions of critics and 
interpreters. So far the work reminds us of the Rector of Broad-Chalke. 
But when the ground is cleared, Dr. Irons comes forward to the help of the per- 
plexed inquirer. He invites him to accept the position, " That Scripture is a 
Divine whole, and received from Christ quite apart from criticism ; " that how- 
ever impenetrable its meaning, or dark its history, it " speaks mysteries to the 
Church;" that, consequently, its "literary sense," treated "as any other 
book," is "of secondary consequence at most." 

In applying these principles to the two subjects of his present volume, Dr. 
Irons lays down the axiom that the miracles of the Old Testament stand on a 
higher or lower footing, according as they are, or are not, referred to by Christ 
in His teaching, or wrapped up with histories which are, or are not, so referred to. 
The miracles of Moses and the cycle of wonders connected with Elijah and 
Elisha belong to the former class, those of Balaam and the Book of Judges to 
the latter. The history of Balaam's ass is treated as the narrative of a vision 
(in this he follows Maimonides) ; all that is strange in it is " natural in dreams ; " 
the crushing of the prophet's foot against the wall is like the " trance sensa- 
tion," the " incubus reeling," which dreamers are familiar with. The narrative 
of the wonder when " the sun stood still on Gideon, and the moon on the valley 
of Aijalon," is treated as an interpolated passage from the Book of Jasher, in- 
terrupting the narrative; and, though Dr. Irons thinks that " we are scarcely 
at liberty to doubt " that " some remarkable signs in the heavens are traceable 
both in the nineteenth century before Christ and in the eighth," he is yet bold 
enough to say that "it is a serious responsibility for any man to claim the 
authority of Christ for a certain view of a fact," and a miracle " which Christ 
Himself passed by without notice." 

So, too, in dealing with prophecy, Dr. Irons does not shrink from tabulating 
every Messianic prediction referred to as such in the New Testament, with " its 
apparent sense in the Old, if read like any other book ; " so as to leave on the 
mind of the reader the impression that they all had a real, perhaps also an 
adequate, historical fulfilment within the horizon of the prophets who uttered 
them. It is true that here also he claims submission primarily to the authority 
of our Lord wherever He has sanctioned any special interpretation, and 
secondarily to that of the Church, as guided to the true spiritual meaning of 

Srophecies which seem, at first, to remain within the limits of the letter. Inci- 
entally, in this work, Dr. Irons has some remarks well worthy of the attention 
of the Biblical student on the different formulae of citation used in tie New 
Testament quotations from the Old. Partly on the authority of Jewish writers, 
partly by an induction from the New Testament, he endeavours U> prove, and 

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Notices of Books. 129 

we think succeeds in proving, that the words, "as it is written" "as the 
Scripture saith," and the like, have a higher, more authoritative force than 
" according to that which was spoken by the prophet ;" and in explaining both 
sets of passages he accepts and applies the truth that " the poor idea of a naked 
prognostic or foretelling may be contrasted with the fact that the record of every 
tradition and of every history of any favoured prophet, priest, or king of the 
former covenant, would seem as if constructed to suggest something of the 
coming Messiah."— (P. 86.) 

The method which Dr. Irons proposes has, at least, the merit of being a ' ' short 
and easy " one. 

" There is no record that the Primitive Church, when the Gospel of St John appeared, 
' examined its claims,' ' sifted its authorship,' ' debated the consistency ' and reality of 
its statements, or anything of the kind. No, it was felt at once. The first thing we 
find is that a society, calling itself the Christian's Church, received the Gospel as Divine; 
and we know that that Church has done so for these 1,700 years since, and feels that 
Gospel now Our proposition is, that this is the way, and the only way, of re- 
ceiving Divine Revelation. It is the way of Faith, the way of the Catholic Church — 
the Church of the Creeds, the Priesthood, and the Sacraments." 

It matters not, i.e., who wrote books or when they were written, whether they 
were authentic, anonymous, pseudonymous ; it matters not what they seem to 
mean when we interpret them as we would any other book. We feel they are 
true, and that is enough. Doubtless for those who feel. But what help has 
Dr. Irons to give to those who do not feel ? What criterion does he offer where 
the feelings that accept conflicting beliefs are equally strong ? How does he 
answer the doubter who feels that the doctrine of the Atonement is at variance 
with his moral sense, or the sectarian who feels that it is utterly unreal unless 
it bring the assurance of personal salvation P How, on this ground, can the 
Catholic maintain his position against the Bible Christian P We fear that the 
only answer which can be given to these questions is that which M. de Bunsen 
gives in his •• Keys of St. Peter," " Let Borne speak." 

The Increase of Faith. London and Edinburgh : Blackwood and Sons. 
A book, the object of which is to show, that Faith is trust in Christ, that it is 
capable of increase, and that the means of increase are prayer, the devotional 
study of the Scriptures, and a holy life, seems at first to belong to the class of 
books which the reviewer casts on one side as having little or no interest for him, 
but which often vindicate for themselves a raison cVStre by a sale which shows that 
they meet the wants of many thousands of readers. The " Increase of Faith," 
in spite of the apparent narrowness of its scope, belongs to quite another 
category. It is evidently the work of a man of wide culture as well as piety. 
Pascal, Butler, Hooker, the Confessions of the Reformed Churches, Bishop 
Bull, Dr. Newman, Jonathan Edwards, even Montaigne, and " Essays ana 
Reviews," and Renan's " Vie de Jesus," all contribute in the way of argument 
and illustration. The student will find much that will help him to understand 
the Reformation controversies as to the nature of justification and the work of 
justifying faith — whether faith be trust in a living person, or belief in a dog- 
matic system, or the assurance (fiducia) of personal salvation — whether it is 
born full-grown in the soul of the believer, or passes through the stages of 
infancy and youth to the stature of the perfect man. To many, doubtless, these 
will seem as forgotten disputes that lie far behind the more agitating problems 
of our own time. To us it is at once interesting and satisfactory to find a 
thoughtful and well-informed writer dealing with them as recognising that they 
are questions which touch man's life still, and yet making his discussion of them 
subordinate and subservient to personal religion. 

The Divine Teacher : being the Recorded Sayings of our Lord Jesus Christ during 

His Ministry on Earth. London : Smith, Elder & Co. 

This volume is strictly what it professes to be, and nothing else. " It seems 

desirable," says the editor, in his (or her) preface, "that words which are so 

precious, and which must remain equally precious to all generations, should be 

gathered together into a complete whole, and presented in a convenient form for 

the use of those who value them." All that has been adde4 to our Lord's own 


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i jo The Contemporary Review. 

words is a thread of connecting narrative to explain their occasions. This is 
given, for the most part, in the language of the Authorized Version. 

We have observed some faults in detail. One is, that our Lord's discourses 
are not always given as they stand in any one Gospel, but one Gospel is notched 
out of another. E.g., in p. 31, we have: — "There is nothing from without a 
man, that entereth into the mouth, that can defile him ; but the things which 
come out of the mouth, those are they that defile the man." Now our Lord 
said no such words as these ; and the former part of the sentence is not even 
good English. How far this has been carried we cannot say ; but, wherever it 
occurs, so far the book is worthless. Even one such instance is a fatal blot. 

Another, but far minor fault, is that the editor, or his compositors, have 
miserably mangled the punctuation of the Authorized Version. "Woe unto you, 
also, ye lawyers ;" "Therefore, whatsoever ye have spoken," &c. ; "Who, 
then, is that faithful and wise servant, " and the like, are in the very worst 
style of printing-office commaivg, and are carefully avoided in our Bibles. . , 

If such a work as this be not accurate it is nothing. 


The Huguenots : their Settlements, Churches, and Industries, in England and. 
Ireland. By Samuel Smiles. London : John Murray. 

The readers of Mr. Smiles will not be surprised at the announcement of an 
ecclesiastical subject from his pen, when they observe the word Industries on 
his title-page, showing that he still pursues his old paths in new and interesting 
directions. The records of French Protestantism, in its purely religious aspect, 
will always have the sympathy of English readers ; but no one, perhaps, except 
Mr. Smiles, would have thought of placing this noble theme in an industrial 
point of view. The effect is very striking, and every one must feel how greatly 
the entire subject gains from this mode of treatment. The author does not 
profess to have entered upon any original investigation of the Huguenot story ; 
this he has narrated according to the latest and best authorities ; and his real 
originality lies in the plan and idea of his work, showing us the sufferings of a 
cloud of confessors, and a consequent migration to these shores of every useful art, 
the details of which he has brought into his canvas by researches in our various 
antiquarian literature. We suspect that few of the readers of our current his- 
tories are aware of the prodigious streams of refugees for conscience' sake that 
have reached us at various times from the other side of the Channel. They will 
realize from Mr. Smiles 1 pages how, in the Elizabethan period, their presence among 
us was at once a strength to our yet undecided Reformation, and one of the great 
difficulties of our glorious old Queen with the despots of France and Spain, from 
whose grasp her guests had escaped ; and how, too, at a later period, the Re- 
vocation of the Edict of Nantes and the French Dragennades helped on the 
cause of the Great Revolution of 1688. 

These emigrants are not to be reckoned only numerically; they were the 
cream of the land they had left — all muscle, mind, and skill — of which we are 
reaping the benefit to this day. Papal persecutions, while aiming at theological 
sentiments only, have so iunuenoed social history that the study of them has 
become a necessity to a far larger class of inquirers than the theological ; and 
the facts, therefore, must be held in eternal remembrance. The historian of 
weavers, gardeners, and paper-makers is obliged to narrate the Inquisition in 
the Low Countries, the Massacre of St. Bartholomew's, and the Revocation of 
the Edict of Nantes. Rome cannot escape this penalty. 

A valuable Appendix brings into view the various industrial colonies esta- 
blished in the British Islands from the earliest times, especially by Edward III., 
whose warlike propensities compelled him to study finance and foster com- 
merce. In those days skilled hands had to be enticed from the Flemish factories 
by all sorts of promises, and had to be petted when they came ; for it was only 
from the accession of Protestant Edward VI. that they began to flock over to us 
as unbidden as swallows in spring. But the old allurements would have proved 
of little use, had it not been for one fact, which will not be lost upon our 

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Notices of Books 9 131 

artisans of the present day, namely, the tyranny of their own trade-guilds^ 
trades-unions they were, neither more or less— which drove vast numoers to 
carry their skill to a more liberal market and erect a formidable competition in 

Not the least interesting portion of Mr. Smiles' volume is an account of the 
refugee congregations formed in different parts of this country, some of which 
have preserved their old character and privileges down to this aay ; and notably 
at Canterbury, where the undercroft of the cathedral is tenanted by the " French 
Church," praying in the French tongue, and ohaunting the Psalms to the 
old Huguenot tunes. Not mechanics alone, but professional men and authors, 
have been among the refugees or their descendants. It is thus that such 
names as Abbadie, Allix, Casaubon, Ducarel, Desmaiseaux, Durfey, Layard, 
Marcet, Martineau, Bapin, Bomaine, figure in our literature ; and that Auriol, 
Bouverie, Gambier, Labouchere, Hugessen, Trench, still are known among 
our peers and gentry, whose Huguenot lineage is as honourable as a Norman, 
if not so ancient. 

Mr. Smiles will permit us to point out, for future correction, a little confusion 
of statement at the conclusion of his third chapter. At p. 75 he states that 
the wars of the League were brought to a conclusion " by the succession of 
Henry IV. to the throne in 1594." This kins abjured in that year, but suc- 
ceeded in 1589, and the wars of the League did not finally close till th e Ed ict 
of Nantes was proclaimed in 1598. At page 9, in the note, Henry Yil. is 
evidently a misprint for Henry YJJLL. , whose life Lord Herbert of Cherbury wrote* 

History of the Commonwealth of England from the Death of Charles I. to the Ex- 
pulsion of the Long Parliament by Cromwell : being omitted Chapters of this 
History of England. By Andrew Bisset. Two Volumes: Vol. II* 
London : John Murray. 
This is the concluding portion of Mr. Bisset's " History," and comprises the 
last two years of the entire four and a quarter ; narrating, therefore, the battle 
of Worcester, Sept. 8, 1651 ; Blake's naval victories, 1652-3 ; and the famous 
11 Expulsion " mentioned in the title. The author's references show a diligent 
reading of the ordinary authorities for this period ; but he rests his claim chiefly 
on his having made use of the forty MS. volumes of the Minutes of the 
Commonwealth's Council of State, which (he tells us) no historian had Jhitherto 
consulted, as far as was known to the gentlemen (or "gentleman," as we think 
the grammar of the text requires) of the State-Paper Office, who informed Mr. 
Grote, who again told Mr. Bisset. Giving all due weight to this fact, we are 
obliged to say that the book, as a popular history, contains grave faults without 
counterbalancing excellences. Irrelevant matter is continually intruding, and 
the reader's patience is tried by too frequent discussions on incidental points. 
For instance, the enigmatical character of the great Protector brings a quotation 
from Dr. Arnold, whose leading thought is accepted; but the Doctor having 
likewise merely observed that no one but Shakspeare could have portrayed 
the real Cromwell, we get half a page of Mr. Bisset's " History of the Com- 
monwealth" — the actual text, too — to prove how little the dramatist under- 
stood Julius Caesar; and how surely his Cromwell, therefore, would have 
failed. Page after page, text and notes, of this rambling production of an 
undisciplined mind occur at the beginning of the volume, under the headings 
of'The Divine Eight of Kings," "Divine Right Tyranny," "Divine Bight No- 
bility." We are never allowed to forget, too, how thoroughly the Minutes of 
the Council of State have now, at length, been ransacked. A work in which 
quotations from these occur perpetually, a page-full at a time, may have 
its use, but it is not exactly historic narrative. We have also to remark 
that the spirit of the narrator is partisan, and his diction not unfrequently 
coarse. The Muse of History is a stately dame. She need not be stiff; out we 
do not like to see the skirt other robe often sweeping the street, and sometimes 
trailing in the mire, as we find it, for instance, at p. 477 : " Cooper or Shaftes- 
bury (for he had rotted into a peer with that title). 

Memoir of William Edmonstoune Aytoun, D.C.L., Author of "Lays of the 
Scottish Cavaliers," &c. ByTHEODOKE Martin. London and Edinburgh : 
Blackwood and Sons. 

"We are not of those who think Professor Aytoun undeserving of a memoir. 


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132 The Contemporary Review. 

It would be difficult indeed to find the life that would not yield its lesson when, 
told by fitting hands, its scattered incidents were strung on those inner ancillary 
lines of purpose, which, clearly followed, are seen to run up till they mysteriously 
' connect the most insignificant history with the whole course of things, thus 
rounding it off into a unity of its own. But we believe that just in proportion 
to lack of claim to notice on the part of the subject should be the insight and 
capability of him who undertakes to tell the " mystic tale." Emerson says that 
he loves a sufficient man ; we, in common with the public at large, love a sufficient 
biographer. When then we hear it remarked again and again, over a bit of 
biographic work, that the subject of it, like Canning's Knife-grinder, had " no 
story,' we may conclude, not unreasonably, that the biographer has scarcely 
proved himself sufficient. 

Mr. Theodore Martin's misfortune, as Professor Aytoun's biographer, was that 
he came to his task too well supplied with all the conventional aids of the 
memoir- writer, and commanded too easy access to all requisite information. This 
may, perhaps, seem paradoxical ; yet it is true. Separate facts and details, 
lying clustered on the intellect, wounded by recent loss, often act like sponges 
in drawing off and absorbing the vital fluid, which they will scarce giye forth 
again unless submitted to such painful pressure as few, for the sake of truth, are 
willing to trouble themselves with. We all know how mourning relatives over- 
lay their letters with incidents and sayings remembered by blunt contrast, and 
thrown down on the page oppressively, however neatly and musically worded. 
Mr. Martin was for many years intimately associated with Professor Aytoun in 
literary labour ; he aimed besides at so close an assimilation of thought and 
purpose with those of his friend, that up to the publication of this memoir the 
sharpest critics were at a loss to which to assign some of the happiest jeux 
d? esprit. Mr. Martin knew the outgoings and incomings of Professor Aytoun 
so well, indeed, that when he came to write his memoir, he had actually to 
sketch a sort of alter ego. All this was favourable enough to our being told in a 
certain tone what the professor did and said, but by no means favourable to the 
writer's clearly exhibiting to us what he really was. We have here clear, 
flowing, graceful narrative ; occasional quaint spirited turns ; passages sparkling 
with epigrammatic point and naivete' ; the professor's best bits of humour — 
and he was a master in the lighter firework sort which sparkles brilliantly, but 
does not steadily illuminate — being skilfully conserved. But we lack that sort 
of insight which " opens a foreground," and so shows us the main subject faith- 
fully. Perhaps the primary condition to the attainment of this is that the 
biographer should view his subject from a wholly foreign plane of life and 
thought. Mr. Martin is right when he says, " It is not for me to attempt to 
define Aytoun's place in literature. I lived too near him, and loved the man 
too well, to be an impartial critic of his work, even were I disposed, which I 
am not, to sit in judgment upon it." — (P. 248.) But, nevertheless, he tells us 
that Aytoun's ode on the Prince of Wales' marriage was incomparably the best 
published, which is very like sitting in judgment a little harshly on the work 
of other and highly distinguished poets. Mr. Martin's memoir will be read as it 
deserves ; but it will not live long, nor will it keep Aytoun living. There is a 
certain fitness, and yet a certain " sarcasm of destiny," in the fact that Aytoun, 
who only wrote clever jeux <F esprit, should have had his last chance of remem- 
brance committed to one in many respects so like him. 

Aytoun owed more to happy chance and cultivation than to nature. But let 
us be just. It is something that a man makes much of what he has. He had 
the knack of hitting off a serious matter with such dexterous lightness, that he 
was tempted to be light in manner even when he was earnest in purpose. 
This bred in him a sort of cynical man-of-the- worldism which but ill-expressed 
the real goodness of his heart. His Toryism, which was assumed, not natural, 
helped very much to this result. It was but seldom that the inner depth of his 
nature was stirred; the well-trimmed flowers of fancy and taste, cunningly 
twined together, seemed to fence it off effectively from the field of expression ; 
and he was never, perhaps, guilty of a positive impropriety. Yet even 
flowers may shut out the sky, and keep the bracing breath of morning from 
reaching us. It was one of the strange paradoxes to be met with in human 
character, that Aytoun, while he almost scorned to seem in earnest, yet abso- 
lutely needed something which he could be in earnest about. " Firmilian " is 

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Notices of Books. 133 

perhaps the most serious piece of work he ever did. But his choices were mostly 
unfortunate. He fought wildly for his party, yet his whole heart was never in 
the work, else it is scarce possible he could have written so plaj T fuUy ; so that a 
change of side might have been easy to him had circumstances loudly called for 
it. Even in regard to Jacobitism his allegiance was uncertain, personal, and 
dashed with little fantastical vanities. Had a Stuart offended him, as Thackeray 
did about the Stuarts, he would just have answered as curtly, and probably the 
result had been very different — a total estrangement and a revolt on Aytoun's 
part against the Stuarts because of their vanities and personal littlenesses. Now, 
the poetry of Jacobitism lies in the atmosphere of emotion which an imaginative 
and impressionable race threw round the names of otherwise indifferent indi- 
viduals ; and it is thus that a true poet must view it — thus that Burns and 
Lady Naime, for instance, did view it, and so were justified in singing of it. 
But Aytoun never viewed Jacobitism thus deeply, never related himself to it 
poetically at all. It was with him a personal preference, giving easy scope for 
picturesque ambitions. Hence, notwithstanding the polish and the power of 
Ids " Lays," there is now and again a sham ring, a dubious clink, as of a 
false coin among a mass of sterling silver. Well does the present writer remem- 
ber how once, Dy a wholly gratuitous expression of opinion as to the lofty 
intellectual character of the Stuarts, Professor Aytoun raised such a tempest in 
his class-room as even his soft suasive manner was scarce equal to quell, and 
how, almost ridiculously defeated, he had to veil his defeat by a reluctant 
discharge of humour. His insight was limited to the range of mere fancy and 
taste, as was well seen in his preference of Marlowe V ' Faust " to that of Goethe—- 
an opinion, too, which called forth loud applause from a large portion of his 
hearers, and repressed hisses from a few of them. But he was a most genial man, 
formed for friendship and society ; and it is no wonder that his familiars loved 
him. He well deserved such a tribute as Mr. Martin has paid to his memory, 
which will be valuable for the specimens given of his humour and his 
peculiar powers. 

The Inner Life of the Very Rev* Pert Laeordaire, of the Order of Preacher*. 
Translated from the French of the Bev. Pbre Chocarne, O.P., with 
Preface bythe Very Bev. Father Atlwaed, Prior Provincial of England, 
Dublin : William B. Kelly. 

Laeordaire. By Dora Greenwell. Edinburgh : Edmonston and Douglas. 

It has been well said that while in religion individuality dissolves and dis- 
appears, in true morality it asserts itself and grows. Lacordaire's life was a 
most remarkable one, inasmuch as it exhibited the extremes of self-sacrifice and 
self-assertion — a religious intensity such as seemed to need nothing from the 
world, and a moral expansiveness such as seemed to need everything. Luckily 
his lofty ideal of the Church, and of that authority which he regarded as 
the Church's consecrated weapon and the only way towards perfect liberty, 
was something different from the earthly symbols Borne holds forth; and 
hence, when he submitted to her dictates, it was not blindly as with Fenelon, 
but with a glance of the inner eye at that ideal to which with him she ever 
pointed, while, therefore, he had the soul of a recluse, he had the heart and 
brain of a reformer, and this lofty ideal of the Church held constantly before his 
eyes was the nexus which united his outward and inward life into a harmony 
at once captivating and unique. In him the overpowering tendency to mysti- 
cism and isolation recovered itself by the very need he felt for outward aids to 
quicken and intensify his spiritual experience and insight. When he called 
upon his inferiors to administer the terrible severities of discipline, the fire of 
his concentrated religious zeal burned through the very mediums he set up to 
protect it. Hence the truth and beauty of Miss GreenwelTs remark (p. 140 J, 
" While his horror of ostentation indisposed him to public penitences, yet his 
ardent desire of humiliations sometimes led him to break through this reserve." 
And this, indeed, gives unconsciously the key note to his whole lue, and furnishes 
the secret of the thrilling power of his oratory. His inner nature needed 
obstacles, hard surfaces to reflect back and reflect in upon it whatsoever it 
could give forth, and it scarce ever gave forth spontaneously until such a 
reflector was held up before it and against it " Lacordaire's was a life made 

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1 34 The Contemporary Review. 

sweet with endearing personal intercourse, and rich with the warm glow that 
contact and communion give ; and yet this life, around which so many other 
lives grew and clustered, was spent in a solitude that was awful, in a neigh- 
bourhood that was more awful still." — (Miss Green well, p. 131.) Madame 
Swetchine is certainly the most imposing and the most interesting of those 
lives which clustered round Lacordaire's, giving back its mystic glow ; and Miss 
Greenwell has in our opinion dealt with it in a wise and masterly way. Madame 
Swetchine did much to educe, and to give permanent direction to, the best in 
Lacordaire, and to bring into clearness, through contact with certain forms of 
life, the most recondite elements in his truly singular nature. If we could 
conceive the two Newmans and Archbishop Manning thrown into one indi- 
viduality, it might give us a faint idea of Lacordaire, and followed out, might 
suggest strange questions as to how it is that Borne so readily claims or develops 
such characters, at once strong and fine, robust and tender, self-abnegating 
and self-realizing. 

It is so far fortunate that these two memoirs of the great restorer of the 
Dominicans in France have appeared in England simultaneously. The titles 
might well be exchanged. Anything about such a man could not but be in- 
teresting ; but the P£re Chocarne is diffuse and rambling, and fails to show 
us clearly how the inner figure of Lacordaire came to act so powerfully on the 
outside world. Instead of anything like scientific analyses, we have neaps of 
letters and reminiscences and extracts ; instead of the " Inner Life," we have, as 
far as that could possibly be, the outer life of Lacordaire. Miss Greenwell may 
sometimes need to be supplemented as to matters of fact by Chocarne or Mont- 
alembert ; but her fine sympathies, her vivid intuitions, have enabled her to 
give us rare glimpses into the subtler aspects of Lacordaire's being ; and on 
the whole she paints a portrait which will be read, and we should fain hope 
will live in English literature. Her style, too, is well suited to the subject. 
We notice some slight defects which might be mended in a new edition. The 
book is tantalizingly encumbered with an undergrowth of notes, which, consider- 
ing that there is an appendix, should either have been thrown in there or 
wrought into the text itself. Then, Miss Greenwell unpardonably dots and 
spots her pages with italics, and often when the use of them is anything but a 
oompliment to the reader's penetration. 

Edmund Burke : a Historical Study. By Johk Mokley, B.A., Oxon. 
London : Macmillan & Oo. 

This book is really what it purports to be. It is not a biography of Burke, 
nor is it a mere rSsume' of his political doings, but a " historical study " of those 
political and social influences which combined to make him a central figure at a 
time when the whole tendencies of English politics turned in a new direction, 
and one which is only now receiving its full and solid development. Mr. 
Morley has shown great skill in grouping all his materials round representative 
men, and at the same time never permitting the individual to overshadow the 
background of principles which is here his chief concern. Even the "dull 
arbitrary " King George he succeeds in relegating to his own place and to his 
own proportions as one of those individual men with whom " history has 
strictly only to do as the originals, the furtherers, the opponents, or the repre- 
sentatives of some of those thousand diverse forces which, uniting in one vast 
sweep, bear along the successive generations of men as upon the broad wings 
of sea- winds to new and more fertile shores." — (P. 63.) He may also claim 
credit for a determination to hold the balance steadily, and to mete out an im- 
partial judgment, not only on the chief character, but on his most distinguished 
contemporaries, — Pitt, Fox, Bolingbroke, Lord North, &c. This justice is all 
the more noticeable and praiseworthy, inasmuch as it is very evident that on 
those points most calculated to excite enthusiastic sympathy, Mr. Morley is not 
at one with Burke. Yet it is possible to carry what we may call " dramatic 
apologies " too far, and to lead us into a sort of sentimental shadow-land, where 
there is no true footing. The influences of two master minds of the past half 
Oentury are very noticeable here ; so noticeable, indeed, that had it not been for 
them, this book had scarcely taken the form it has done. These are M. Comte 
and Mr. Carlyle. That peculiar sort of apologetic tone, determined not to ac- 
knowledge itself as apologetic, which gives such a peculiar air to the essays on 

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Notices of Books. 135 

Voltaire, and Diderot, and Mirabeau, reappears here, combined with a passion 
for exhaustive exactness, doubtless derived from the oracular egoism of Oomte. 
These two things sort but poorly ; and the result is that by a kind of unconscious 
mental thimblerig, one thing is almost whirled over into the place of its opposite. 
Burke's dislike to the French Revolutionists is explained away with the grounds 
on which it rested, and we have a defence both of the Revolution and the worst 
leaders of it, in a vein strangely compounded of our two hierophants named 
above. Had Burke's opinions had the weight with the author which his veiled 
apology might almost lead one to beHeve, it is scarce possible he could have 
written thus ; but the apology he writes for the Revolutionists might well be 
taken ae proof strong, though indirect, that Burke was nothing but a " resplen- 
dent rhetorician," which incisive characterization Mr. Morley at the outset 
summarily dismissed. Yet this "Study" has much value as a specimen of 
literature in which, notwithstanding Mr. Hallam's happy efforts, we in Eng- 
land are defective. It is written with power and pointed clearness— proving 
that the author has made himself master of his subject ; and it should be read 
by every one interested in the political history of England. 

Life and Labours of John Campbell, D.D. By the Rev. Robert Fergttson, 
LIj.D., and the Rev. A. Mokton Brown, LL.D. London: Richard 
After having faithfully tried to discharge what Mr. Matthew Arnold has 
called the proper function of criticism witn regard to this book — that is, to 
" disinterestedly seek and show forth the best " in it — we confess we are unable 
to recommend it to our readers. Drs. Ferguson and Brown have lost a good 
opportunity, such an opportunity as the records of Dissent may not again present 
for long. Through Dr. Campbell, they might have recommended to Englishmen 
at large that stolid strength, and rugged, manly independence which made him, 
nudgri his defects, a typical Dissenter, and, on the other hand, by care and judi- 
cious treatment, they mi^ht have maintained the highest tide-mark of Noncon- 
formist culture and learning. They have notably failed in both respects. Yet Dr. 
Campbell would have been a first-rate subject for an original- minded biographer, 
careful in that sort of psychological comparative anatomy of which we have now 
so many examples. He was a man of honest character and unwearied energy. 
Doggedly pertinacious, and with that rigid intellectual clearness which only comes 
of moving regularly in a narrow circle, he was never troubled with doubts, and was 
always ready to dash into the thick of controversy, and deal about blows in all 
directions. He was by nature a polemic, and the same tendency would have exhi- 
bited itself whatever walk of life he had chosen. That anecdote his biographers 
give of his chasing Stratton, the foreman under whom he wrought as a black- 
smith, with a bar of red-hot iron, because Stratton had challenged him for bad 
work, is typical of all his activity. He had a keen nose for heresy, and in track- 
ing it out was as watchful, sagacious, and unrelenting as a sleuth-hound. When 
he declared war it was always to the — red-hot bar. underneath the shell of his 
eccentricities and egotisms, however, there was a kernel of real goodness and 
quaint, distinctively-marked character, which all readers would have respected, 
nut the biographers seize the absurdest points, and dwell on them, all uncon- 
scious of their absurdity, thus unwittingly perpetrating the most amusing 
caricatures. They strike a wholly false key-note, setting up their sect for the 
broad world, and their great-small men for heroes. The letters are thrown 
down on the page pell-mell ; those given regarding the Doctor's second marriage 
being inexpressibly ridiculous. It is a relief to find, in the midst of all 
this rhodomontade, that Dr. Campbell, in his last years, like Dr. Cunningham, 
Dr. Chalmers, and others, deeply regretted the fiery severity of his theological 
onslaughts — a point which might have warned his biographers, and moderated 
the tone in which they celebrate his victories. 

The Life and Correspondence of Thomas Slingsby Buncombe, late M.P. for Finshury* 

Edited by his Son, Thomas H. Duncombe. Two Vols. London : Hurst 

and Blackett. 

. Wb have read this book with interest — such an interest, indeed, as we must 

confess we once or twice felt half ashamed of. But "man is perennially 

interesting to man." A book composed of the scandal and gossip of the Regency 

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136 The Contemporary Review. 

— piquant, picturesque, adventurous — could not but be entertaining. But 
" there is a speedy limit to the use of" men of fashion as well as of " great 
men." And we are not sure but this manner of seasoning and preserving the 
name and fame of a person like Thomas Slingsby Duncombe, by sandwiching it 
with matters of grave historical and political import, only associated with him 
in the most adventitious manner, is a little dangerous and over-venturesome. 
It is not enough that the public eagerly seeks after and devours such conglo- 
merations ; the public needs sometimes to be protected against temptation. 
This book properly divides itself into two — ' ' Public Mattei-s during the Regency," 
and the "Private Life of Mr. Duncombe." Whatever has permanent value, 
and could be held forth as throwing light upon past policy, or offering the most 
distant solutions to present perplexities, has the most accidental and arbitrary 
association with Tom Duncombe, and could have been committed to the publio 
without him as the immediate peg to hang it on. Indeed, Mr. Duncombe 
appears here in somewhat the position of that amiable character we have heard 
of, who, able to stand more drink than his associates, arrayed himself in their 
top-coats, and like a sober man, left each at its owner's door, as signal of the 
helpless condition in which he was lying. This, of course, applies with moat 
force to the first portion of the book, where "honest Tom" is regarded as the 
man of pleasure ; it does not to the same extent apply to the second part only 
because the writer does not seem to feel that there is any necessity for the per- 
sonal reserve he practised in the first half. But that does not redound much 
to the credit of the subject. While Mr. Duncombe was showing himself off as 
the friend of political refugees — Kossuth, Mazzini, et hoc genus omne — he was 
plotting to place Louis Napoleon on the throne of France, and had even entered 
into a compact with the Duke of Brunswick, whereby he was to be properly re- 
warded for his pains in that matter. In the light of these things, and the bribery 
which is here openly confessed to, Mr. Duncombe's services on the Radical side, 
even where they were undoubtedly beneficial, seem somehow to lose their attrac- 
tive aspect ; and we are forced to think of him simply as a mean though astute 
intriguer, ready to sacrifice almost anything for substantial advantage. Those who 
have been spendthrift in youth often grow calculating and mean in age. Mr. 
Duncombe was an instance, only he was cunning enough to try and hide it. 
This may seem a harsh judgment ; but when a son can tell us that his father 
" went in " to politics simply with the hope of place and connection, and turned 
Badical only because he fancied it would pay him better, we surely do no despite to 
his father's name. Indeed, it would seem almost as if the son had some secret 
interest in slyly insinuating the existence of low motives wherever he can on his 
father's part. We do not deem it either proper or profitable to expose errors 
in this carelessly- written book, for that would De to attach a wholly false import- 
ance to its matter ; nor do we offer any outline of its contents, for that would 
only be to reprint what we have hinted had better not have been printed at all. 


The Darwinian Theory of the Transmutation of Species Examined. By a 
Graduate of the University of Cambridge. 8vo. London : J. Nisbet & 

Man : Where, Whence, and Whither. By David Page. Edinburgh : Edmon- 
ston and Douglas. 

We take these two works together, as both treat more or less directly on the 
vexed question of the physical origin of man. In the volume first named the 
anonymous author stretches the whole theory of Mr. Darwin on the dissecting 
table, and with scalpel sharpened on the keenest whetstone of a logical and 
mathematical mind, he lays bare every joint of the framework. He strips off 
the integuments of •• natural selection," and exposes the many dislocations of 
the skeleton. This is the first time that the system of Mr. Darwin has been 
dealt with as a whole. Other critics have treated it in detail, have pointed out 
the vast hiatus between mammal and lower vertebrates, between vertebrate and 
invertebrate, which not even Mr. Darwin's skill has been able to bridge. We 
have here the whole question examined from first principles. Mr. Darwin is 
relentlessly driven by his examiner to the utmost consequences of his hypo- 

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Notices of Books. 137 

thesis, and then his steps are traced back to his " one primordial form/ 1 and his 
proofs, geological and physical, examined at each halting-place. 

The first three chapters are devoted to the question of " species." Here, we 
think, is Mr. Darwin's strength and his weakness. His strength, for as 
naturalists we are compelled to admit that many so-catted species are merely 
hereditary varieties; nis .weakness, for, taking advantage of the reckless 
multiplication of species by modern naturalists, he has implicitly denied the 
existence of species altogether, and built his pyramid on the foundation of an 
^discriminate amalgam of orders, genera, species, and varieties. The author 
shows how frequently Mr. Darwin has contradicted himself in his explanation 
of the idea of species, and how, after stating that there are " good ana distinct 
species," he writes : — " To discuss whether forms are rightly called species or 
varieties before any definition of these terms has been accepted is vainly to 
beat the air." The author next examines Mr. Darwin's theory of " natural 
selection," and shows that, after all, he uses this term, upon which the whole 
edifice is based, as synonymous with " the sequence of events." The operations 
of this "sequence of events" are next examined as to its functions in the 
structure of living things, and as to its functions in accumulating instinct. 
Transmutation, the geological question, and the total absence of geological 
evidence, are very fully treated ; then the organic similarity and organic dis- 
tinctions of animals. The writer concludes by boldly throwing down the 
gauntlet on the argument of design; and shows, we must confess, to our 
minds conclusively, that the argument of design explains infinite difficulties 
which Mr. Darwin avowedly admits are inexplicable with our present know- 
ledge on his hypothesis. Mr. Darwin asks, (( Do they really believe that at 
innumerable periods of the earth's history certain elemental atoms have been 
commanded suddenly to flash into living tissues P " Yet, in alluding to objec- 
tions, he writes, " They relate to questions in which we are confessedly ignorant, 
nor do we know how ignorant we are." His critic observes :— 

M If we deny the will and the work of a Creator in the existence of organized beings, 
we must deny it in the cosmical arrangements also ; we must carry out the theory of 
natural selection to the earth itself, and the whole machinery of the solar system. . . . 
To allow that the earth was arranged as it is by design, but to deny that organic life on 
the earth .is the production of design, would be to allow the greater miracle and deny 
the smaller. If an artificer and design can be discovered anywhere in the universe, they 
will be acknowledged everywhere."— -(P. 363.) 

It is impossible in our limited space to give even the barest outline of the 
mode in which the absence of geological evidence is handled ; and the difficul- 
ties opposed to transmutation by the organic distinctions of animals set forth. 
Our author claims that " in every instance we must begin with what is known 
and present to us before we can speculate about what is unknown and remote. 
To this rule we know of no exception " (p. 354). But Mr. Darwin draws largely 
upon the imaginative faculties. Upwards of forty cases are adduced in which 
he calls for our faith. 

" It is to be remembered that the whole system is proposed as a creed, and that belief, 
and the necessity of belief in things which do not appear, is frequently urged by the 
learned author. How often, how very often, does he make use of the expression, c I 
see no difficulty in believing/ and almost always when the thing to be believed is most 
startling, and we may add, too impossible." — ^P. 150.) 

We may give a few of these instances. The grand theory of transmutation 
wholly depends on it : — 

" It is necessary to believe that when a variety has once arisen it again varies, and that 
these varieties are preserved." " Analogy leads the observer to suppose either that 
(intermediate links) do now somewhere exist, or may formerly have existed, and here a 
wide door for the entry of doubt and conjecture is opened." "Ifmy theory be true, it is • 
indisputable that before the lowest Silurian stratum was deposited long periods elapsed, 
as long as, or probably far longer than, the whole interval from the Silurian age to the 
present day ; and that during these vast, yet quite unknown, periods of time the world 
swarmed with living creatures." 

The great anti-Darwinian argument from accidental variations is handled , 
in a masterly way, viz. : that every organized being forms a whole, a unique 
and perfect system, the parts of which mutually correspond, and concur in the 
same definitive action by a reciprocal reaction. None of these parts can change 

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138 The Contemporary Review. 

without the whole changing. In a strain of caustic irony is pointed out the 
difficulty (which Mr. Darwin has himself confessed] of conceiving how the earth- 
worm or the bustard, the horse or the bear, would oe bettor fitted for their posi- 
tions in nature by a change through " natural selection ," and it is demonstrated 
how, in the lower Silurian strata, the eye of the trilobite was as intricate and 
perfect an organ as any eye of recent times, while in any case the earliest of 
each olass are proved by the record of geology to have been as perfect as their 
successors. If the record of geology be imperfect, at least we have no other, 
and by it we must abide till further evidence is forthcoming. We conceive that 
this work, vigorous in style and forcible in argument, may do good service in 
checking the spirit of reckless speculation amongst naturalists, and reminding 
them that though at perfect liberty to advance theories, yet before they can 
enforce their acceptance they must have some more cogent argument than " I 
see no difficulty in believing.*' We could have willingly dispensed with the too 
frequent tone of banter and sarcasm ; yet, till such difficulties as those here set 
forth are answered, Mr. Farrar can scarcely again class Mr. Darwin with 
Galileo as a persecuted discoverer. 

In referring to the other work on our list, we are put out of court by the 
author at the outset. " No man who has subscribed to creeds and formulas, 
whether in theology or philosophy, can be an unbiassed investigator of the 
truth." Yet ho has no scruple in demanding subscription to a creed of his own, 
for immediately afterwards he adds, " Belief in the uniformity and permannre 
of the methods of creation is all essential to our inquiry." Mr. Page is well 
known as a successful compiler of handbooks on geology, but he has here shown 
that the power of indexing a subject does not necessarily imply that of sifting 
premises and drawing logical conclusions. The most original parts of his work 
are the vehement invectives against theologians with which he is fond of 
winding up his chapters. The rest is a summary of the most "advanced" 
views of the anthropologists and other speculators, the premises, often put 
hypothetically by the authors whom he quotes, rarely bearing out the dogmatic 
conclusions at which he arrives. We can assure Mr. Page that in reading 
carefully every page of his book, we have been influenced by a sole desire to 
arrive at truth, and our honest conclusion is, that he has throughout mistaken 
speculation for demonstration. He categorically asserts what Mr. Darwin only 
hypothetically suggests, that "it would not be difficult to show that the verte- 
brate is a higher specialization of the moliuscan, each linked to the other by 
intermediate forms, which are either still existing or belong to bygone geological 
periods " (p. 40). If it be so easy to prove, we can only say it is most cruel in 
Mr. Page to keep his proofs locked up in his cabinet. But Mr. Page is not a 
discriminating collector. He appropriates Mr. Darwin's hypothesis in its fullest 
extent, applying it to man's origin from the monad through the ape, on which 
subject he warms to enthusiasm, and then he so far forgets himself as to speak 
of the " original conception of the vertebrate skeleton." After this he tells us, 
" Though observation has not yet been enabled to complete the argument, there 
can be no doubt of the existence of the principle of variation, and we may safely 
accept it as one of the main factors in the law of biological development." Then 
he tells us, "The idea of development involves that of superaddition /" Not 
more lucid are his metaphysical views. " The 8oid is essentially instinctive, but 
superadded to instinct, it possesses the power of storing up its sensational 
experiences." Further on, " soul, reason, or instinct," are identical. His 
ethnologioal dogmatism is really amusing. " Physical causes alone could not 
account for the diiference (of man), physiological and psychological" (p. 82); 
forgetting that just before he had stated, " There is no cause for such diver- 
gence save what is of a physical nature " (p. 76). We are told that everywhere 
the Caucasian has been preceded by the Mongol, he by the Bed Indian, he by 
the Malay, he by the Negro, behind whom comes the undiscovered primordial 
man. upon this fact (?), as it is next called, many conclusions are built 
" There can be no greater delusion than that nations will ever be brought to 
the same beliefs, or to one common course of action." The conclusion of the 
work is not flattering to our pride of race. " The existing varieties of mankind 
will pass away, and the highest be superseded by others more highly organised 
and more nobly endowed. 

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Notices of Books. 139 


Eight Comedies of Aristophanes. Translated into Bkymed Metres by Leonabd- 
Hampson Budd, M.A. London : Longmans. 

If Mr. Budd will be content with a bracket in the second class of Aristophanic 
translators, John Hookham Frere having the first class to himself, he may be 
said to be folly entitled to it. To Mr. Frere he is not comparable either iu in- 
timate appreciation of the spirit of Aristophanic comedy, or in that admirable 
approximation of his own humour to the same quality in the great comic poet 
of Greece, which has enabled him to distance all his competitors. But, setting 
Frere aside, the excellencies in which such translators as Walsh and Mitchell 
outvie Mr. Budd are generally counterbalanced by other good points in the 
translation with whioh he has favoured us ; and we should be inclined to rank 
him pretty close to Mr. Bogers, whose translation of the ' ' Peace " is characterized 
by much the same evenness of workmanship, and the same oreditable approach 
to excellence, as is exhibited in the eight plays of Mr. Budd. This gentleman 
has undertaken a difficult task — to convey to general readers (for he disclaims 
addressing himself primarily to scholars) photographic representations of poli- 
tical and social life at Athens as pictured by Aristophanes ; and to do this at 
the same time that he purges that poet's scenes and plays of the excessive gross- 
ness which seems to have recommended them to an Athenian audience. No 
one with any pretensions to true refinement in our days can be insensible to a 
nausea ever and anon supervening to mar the pleasure derivable from the racy 
humour of the Acharnians, Knights, Frogs, and Peace ; a nausea arising from 
coarse and filthy jests which Christianity and Christian civilization repudiate. 
Yet it must be owned that the process of expunging these is very trying to the 
translator, and lays him under the imputation, which it is not easy to escape, 
of sacrificingsome of the fine wheat of Aristophanes coincidently with his tares 
and chaff. We are not at all sure that Mr. Budd's expedient of omitting whole 
passages which represent the context, so to speak, of some objectionable and 
unpresentable indecencies, is so satisfactory a mode of handling an admitted 
difficulty as the plan of verbal omissions and alterations, and the substitution of 
some vaguer or less pronounced word for that which, in certain cases, requires 
excision. We have no acquaintance with Bowdler's Shakspeare, but judging 
from the tradition of it which we have received from others, we should say that 
the principle of the edition of Shakspeare by the Messrs. Chambers— namely, 
" to substitute for an objectionable word or phrase some other word in inverted 
commas, which does not spoil the sense or detract from the author's wit and 
wisdom" — was preferable to the earlier attempt at expurgation, and more fitted 
for imitation, where it is feasible, in translating Aristophanes. There is a large 
amount of innuendo and of "jesting not convenient " in the scene of the Achar- 
nians, when the Megarian brings his daughters into Dicseopolis's private market ; 
but really it is hard to know where one is, if at all versed in Aristophanes, 
when one reads the Acharnians " per saltum," with such broad leaps as over 
fifteen or twenty lines at a time, e.g. w. 735 — 749. Under the control of his self- 
imposed rule — the general principle of which we commend, although we doubt 
its working well — the wonder is that Mr. Budd can carry the reader on so well 
as he does, and contrive to convey so much of the flavour of Aristophanic 

There is another feature in Mr. Budd's translation which we cannot help re- 
garding as doubtful, especially as he seeks the suffrages of non-scholars ; and 
that is his adoption of the "iambic measure" for the ordinary dialogue of his 
translation. From time out of mind it has been the usage of English trans- 
lators to represent the Greek iambic by the ordinary English blank verse. From 
this rule Mr. Cayley has deviated in his translation of the Prometheus, and his 
ear has helped him to escape failure in his experiment. Still he has not, 
apparently, taken the public or the critics by storm ; and perhaps Mr. Budd, too, 
is satisfied if he can deserve, without commanding, suooess by a like experiment. 
But Mr. Budd superadds to his addiction to English iambics an inexplicable 
attachment to rhyme. Every iambic in his eight plays has a rhyming brother. 
Foreign in his metre, he is native, thrice native, in his adherence to rhyme, even 
where English poets would dispense with it. And this is certainly a drawback 

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140 7/ie Contemporary Review. 

t) a meritorious work; nay, more, it leads him at times into additions and 
importations for rhyme's sake which, had he kept even to unrhymed iambics, 
he would have eschewed. As a sample of thi8 we take the reply of Bacchus to 
Hercules' suggestion of " hemlock " as a short road to hell — 

"^vxpAv -ye icai Swrxtip*poV 
tvObg y&p <iiroir»/yvi/<ri r avTiKVijpia " {Frogs, 125 — 6) ; 

which, in his desire to get some word to rhyme with u members," Mr. Rudd 
cudgels his brains to translate — 

" That is cold, as bad as two Decembers, 
And gradually chills one from the lower members." — (P. 363.) 

But, in truth, the iambics, apart from the fetters of rhyme, are the least like- 
able feature of these translated plays ; and we rejoice to be able to praise, as a 
set-off, the general happiness of Mr. Budd's imitations of the Aristophanic ana- 
psestice, and indeed of all the choral metres. These all rhyme, as it is meet they 
should, save the famous choral prelude to the contest between JEschylus and 
Euripides (w. 814 — 829 of the Frogs), which the translator has with much suc- 
cess reproduced in the metre and rhythm of the original (see p. 379). Some 
of his shorter staves rhyme and read very gracefully ; and any reader who will 
refer to the Frog-choruses in the Ranee, or to the choral odes in the Clouds, will 
see that we are not overstating the truth. 

Mr. Budd is entitled to the praise of not riding the Aristophanic nuns to death 
like his predecessor, Mr. Walsh. His hits have more warranty in the Greek 
text, and if not always lively, are never " loud." The play on fkval— i>€vd«£«c 
(Acharn. 89—90) he matches with " chetah" and " cheated." The lesson in 
the deserter's " primer," which Nicias gives Demosthenes in the Knights (21 — 
26), reappears here in the form of— 

"A way, away, — run-away." 

which is as good as any of the attempts of his forerunners ; and a snatch from 
a chorus of the Knights (985—995), where the point is the alliteration of Aupurrl 
and AwpotioKijari, to Cleon* s discredit and disadvantage, will serve at onoe to show 
that the nresent translator can* render humour humorously, and that he can 
rhyme ana poetize creditably. He is withal nearer the Greek than Walsh :— 

" For me I often have admired 
Under what master he acquired 
The music of a hog ; but they, 
Who were his fellow-scholars, say, 
He was so slack to learn as lad 

To touch the lyre and sing, 
That all concluded that he had 

No taste for fingering. 
In vain his master would employ 

Each artifice and shift ; 
Till, angered at the last, " this boy," 
Said he, <4 will never, never, learn 
To touch a lyre : his only turn 

Is-^fingering a gift."— (P. 105.) 

The discussion of the Chorus and Dicseopolis over the packing of the informer, 
Nicarchus, in the Acharnians, is given in pp. 44, 45 with spirit and humour, and 
with a regard for the letter of the Greek not common in Aristophanic trans- 
lators ; and many other passages from choral odes are not less successful. It 
would be unfair not to give a taste of Mr. Budd's iambics, of which we have 
already said that we do not affect them, but they may find favour with others. 
We quote from the passage in the Knights where Cleon finds that the oracles 
are against him. The sausage- seller's birth, school, and education, all fit the 
oracle s description of the coming man who is to supplant the demagogue. 
Then Cleon cries— 

" Oh ! Lycian Apollo, what must be my fete P 
What calling did you follow, when at man's estate t 
S. S. Sold sausages. 

Cleon. Alas ! I am undone. 'Tis slight, 

The hope that yet remains ere 1 am ruined quite. 

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; Notices of Books. 141 

Answer me only this. In the market-place did you, 
Or at the city-gates, that sausage trade pursue P 
8. 8, Where else but at the gates, where they buy salted stuff P 
Chen. Alas ! the prophet* s words are only sure enough. 

Bear off the hapless wretch ! Away : my sun has set. 
And, chaplet, fare thee well, though all unwilling yet 
I part with thee : thee shall another now possess, 
No greater thief perhaps, but rogue with more success." 

P. 113. Knights, tv. 1240— £0. 

The parody of a line in the Alcestis in the last of these verses reads very natu- 
rally. As far as our examination has gone, Mr. Eudd's interpretation of his 
original is very accurate. We doubt, indeed, whether Aristophanes would have 
known his own words, had he read of Dexitheus " coming in upon the calf" 
(l*i M6<jxh>)* Acharn. 13 ; and whether to render a <nW/x«v roUiv **-irotc (" what 
we feel about our horses") is not to mistranslate. Also, as respecting the 
Queen's English, we do not admire translating Kwpu»$idd<jKa\oc "one who put 
comedies on to your stage." But these are exceptions to Mr. Eudd's rule ; and 
we can commend him to the general reader as a refined, pleasant, and faithful 
translator of Aristophanes. 

Decii Junii Juvenalti Satir* XIIL With English Notes and Introduction. 

By G. A. Simcox, M.A., Fellow of Queen's Coll., Oxford. London : Eiving- 

A third instalment of that handy and promising series, the " Catena Olassi- 
corum," lies before us. It is an edition by Mr. Simcox of so much of Juvenal's 
Satires as is required in the Oxford examinations; the omissions being the 
2nd, 6th, and 9th Satires, which an able Cambridge editor, Mr. Mayor, had set 
the fashion of leaving out, as ill-suited for the study of younger readers. To 
Mr. Mayor, indeed, Mr. Simcox owns himself largely indebted ; and, in taking 
in the main the text of Jahn, he gives a further security that his edition will be 
np to the mark in point of " readings " as weU as of interpretations. Not but 
that he exercises independent judgment, and supports, with more or less success, 
his deviations, where they occur, from authorities to which he gives general 
credence. One of his rules, and one, we think, liable to be pushed too far, 
though excellent in moderation, is the axiom that " potior est lectio difficillima ;" 
and in examining his annotations, it has struck us that he is too fond of cleaving 
to the harder reading, even where it yields no vestige of probability. An instance 
of this occurs in the 3rd Satire, v. 218, where, in the face of the Pithou MS., 
which he generally favours, of the Scholiast, and of the editions of Mayor, 
Macleane, and Prior, he prefers 

" PhaDcasianorum vetera ornamenta deorum " 

to the much more probable " Haec Asianorum," or " Hie Asianorum." As 
these " ornamenta" are amongst the presents which the satirist says will pour 
in to the rich man, whose house has been burnt down, from his assiduous satel- 
lites, it is hard to see how their value would be enhanced by their having 
belonged to gods clad in priests' woollen shoes ; and we cannot but think that 
this is a passage where Mr. Simcox would have done better to acquiesce in the 
carerally-weigned text of Jahn, "Hie Asianorum," avoiding, as it does, the 
incongruity of a solitary female amidst male mourners ( ' * Haec Asianorum"), and 
the difficulty, which Mr. Simcox himself feels, as to what gods could be meant 
by " phsecasiani divi." 

At the same time one is bound to respect a principle which necessarily 
involves " bona fide" addition of labour and research ; and, as there is no 
lack of these in the whole volume, our readers have in its adoption an earnest 
of solid fruits of inquiry and patient thought. That which we take, however, 
to be the main characteristic of Mr. Simcox's editorial labours, is the happy 
manner he has of throwing into a couple of lines or so the gist of two or three 
otherwise obscure verses of his author. Here Mr. Mayor is not always success- 
ful, and Mr. Macleane is too diffuse. But something of the kind is very needful, 
especially in editions which have not, as the meritorious edition of Juvenal by 
Mr. Prior, in the " Grammar-School Classics," a brief running commentary in 

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1 42 The Contemporary Review. 

the margin. And this something Mr. Simcox is very happy in supplying when, 
e.g., at lii. 9, young readers might not see all the point of including among 
the " mille pencula saevae Urbis" — 

" Auguato reeitantes mense poetas," 

without such a note as this : " They are dangerous, as they make you hear them 
in crowded rooms, in the hottest part of the holidays, when you can have no 
excuse for refusing, if in town." The meaning of Sat. iv. 86 — 88 — 

" Sed quid violentius aure tyranni, 
Cum quo de pluviis aut sestibus aut nimboso 
Yere locuturi fatum pendebat amici," 

could not be made more apparent by the most exact interpretation than by 
this condensed but sufficient comment : " You had to talk of the weather, and 
felt your life was at stake all the time." The meaning of "facilis jactura 
clientis," in iii. 125, could not be put into briefer or more expressive paraphrase 
than in the note, " He is sold cheap for another fake smile from a Greek," 
which fully explains the bearing of the text on its context. At the last line of 
the same satire this concise manner of putting before the reader the point and 
connection of the Latin is usefully applied. The Latin runs — 

" Satirarum ego, ni pudet illas, 
Adjutor gelidos veniam caligatns in agios ; " 

and although Mr. Mayor takes " caligatus" to mean "prepared to do service in 
the ranks/' and Mr. Prior understands it " equipped for fighting," there are 
few who will not at once see light and reason, and point and force, in Mr. 
Simcox' a brief exposition, "I'll come up to your cool farm to reinforce your 
satires, if they are not ashamed of my hobnailed boots." 

Another happy characteristic of Mr. Simcox's editing is his manner of illus- 
trating, where it is possible, ancient ideas by modern. On "verna Canopi" 
(i. 26) he notes, that "Can opus was to Alexandria what Greenwich and Bother- 
hithe are to London ;" and he parallels " Titio Seioque" (iv. 13) by our " John Doe 
and Richard Roe;" " Artem soindens Theodori" (vii. 177) is " making a mess 
of his Lindley Murray." Such parallelisms, doubtless, are not far to seek, yet 
they help, in* their measure, both to enliven and to enlighten the ordinary run 
of readers. Those who look for something deeper will generally find the gram- 
matical notes good, as is the case with the explanation of the dative in "Et 
mare percussum puero " (i. 54) ; though we think there should have been some 
little said about tne "genitive of quality or respect" in iii. 48, "Extinct® corpus 
non utile dextraB," which, being unnoted by Mr. Simcox, might puzzle such 
readers as had access to no other editions, (there are not a few similar omis- 
sions, explicable, possibly, by regard to the circumstance that the "Catena" 
series is pledged to go as little as possible over old and oft- trodden ground ; yet 
consideration for the possessors of but one book ought to secure a few words of 
interpretation wherever a word occurs which is either extremely rare, or used 
in a sense which does not commonly attach to it. 

In the tougher passages, throughout Mr. Simcox's volume, the student will 
never lack manful and "bona fide" help; and, as in such cases he gives a 
choice of interpretations, there is room for independence of decision, where, as 
is sometimes the case, his view does not recommend itself. We cannot think, 
for instance, that his punctuation is right at i. 61 : " puer : Automedon " — nor 
at i. 67, " signator falso, qui." On the other hand, he is quite right, at iii. 105, 
in putting a comma between " a facie" and " iactare manus." 

The introductory matter is entertaining and cleverly put, which is saying a 
great deal, where facts are few, data uncertain, and comparative estimates 
confessedly "precarious." 

Horace : Odes, Epode$, and the Secular Song. Newly translated into Verse. By 
Charles Stephens Mathews, M.A., Pembr. Coll., Cambr. London: 

Ma. Mathews, with some noetic taste, has a vagrant and erratic muse, not 
in the least fitted for translating Horace. Diffuse where that poet is succinct, 

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Notices of Books. 143 

roundabout where lie is pointed, involved and hard to understand when his 
original is clear as crystal, he utterly fails to represent the Roman master of the 
lyre. And though, where he is minded, he is tolerably successful in matching 
a lively Latin metre by something kindred in Finglish measure, jet so fre- 
quently does he content himself with a slovenly gait and a defective syntax, 
that even this promise of excellence is disappointed in every page ; so that a 
translation can hardly be conceived less likely to give those unread in Horace a 
fair idea of his poetry, or more certain to outrage the taste of those who read 
him and love him. This is plain speaking, but it is the truthful result of deli- 
berate conviction ; and any one who will take a patient survey of the first book 
of the Odes, original and translation side by side, will be driven to allow that 
our estimate is not extreme or unnecessarily severe. Schoolboys often find a 
great help to the understanding of the classic they are reading by a poetical 
version— a perfectly admissible nelp for them ; but what gain would it be to 
them (and this is, after all, a tolerably fair test) if, seeking to realize Ode I., 
i. 7,8— 

"Hunc a mobilram turba Quiritium 
Certat tergeminis tollare honoribus," 

they find 5 flattered and spun out into— 

" This man will have Quirites vie 
I To pass him up to honours by 
The dozen, with a steady love 
Not always not inclined to move," 

where the only foundation for the last ungainly line is the word " mobilium ?" 
Or what fruit are they likely to reap from a comparison of the line, " Trahuntque 
sicca* madams carinas " (r. iv. 2) with its rendering by Mr. Mathews ?— 

" The very keels, which stranded high 
With gaping seams, for rollers cry 
And line, to drink to drag them by ; " 

a triplet which can have no other aim than to show how far neglect of grammar, 
of syntax, and of due care in interpretation, can avail to confuse what was once 

The truth is that diffuseness, and a tendency; to " slipshod," are ruinous pro- 
pensities in a translator of Horace. " Duplicis Ulyssei" figures in this version 
as "that complicated man, Ulysses, minglement of force and cunning;" and 
any one who will turn to the- oft-quoted passage describing the effects of the 
appearance in the heavens of the constellation of the " great twin brethren" 
(l xii. 27 — 32) will come upon such an erratic; obscure, and diffuse ampMcatioH 
of the original as will satisfy him that Mr. Mathews has taken rope enough to 
bang his poetic pretensions. In the beginning of the loth Ode, the words 
" pastor" and ' ' perfidus " not only send him off upon this sort of amplification, — 

•' From shore to shore iEgean when 
The Shepherd, who his like belied. 
For pastoral be faith \ful men," &c, &o. ; 

but they also lead him into a serious blunder, that of supposing " pastor" 
(and not " Nereus," which comes after) to be the subject to "ingrato oeleres 
obruit otio Ventos ; " for he goes on, — 

"In floated woods from Ida's side 
Fatigued the time, and shamed tho breeze," Ac. — (P. 32.) 

This is a more serious mistake than we have detected elsewhere, although there 
was little excuse enough after Milton's *' Courts thee on roses," in the ode to 
I*yrrha (i. v. 2) to torture the verb " urget " into— 

" 'Tie you 
He urges to the rendezvous, 
And asks — why come you not P" 

Bat, to do Mr. Mathews justice, he sometimes lights upon a happy hit. In the 
proDheey of Nereus, where he begins with a mistranslation (as above noticed), 
he does poetical justice to the words- 

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144 The Contemporary Review. 

" SeruB adulteros 
Crines pulvere collines." — (19, 20.) 

" Those crisp provocatives to lust 
At last shall draggle in the dust." 

And in Ode rx. there is poetry and fancy, as well as tolerable faithfulness, in 
the third stanza, — 

" All else permit the gods to guide, 
All else perceives them at the helm. 
At rest yon tufts of cypress ride, 

And those two lines of aged elm, 
Soon as the gods send to their pillows 
The battling winds with fervid billows ; " 

and in the conclusion of the last stanza, — - 

" Tho traitor laugh from corner'd wall 
Of lurking maiden, and from arm 
Or finger, rape of token gold 
Let go with faintest show to hold."— (P. 22.) 

Bat even poetic instincts are sometimes a snare to a translator, as when, in 
another ode (xxiii. 6, 7), they tempt Mr. MathewB into the quaint and fanciful, 
but questionable, effort to improve on Horace's simile :— 

"Seu virides rubum 
Dimovere lacertss." 

" Or lizard, for a peep 

At day, but draw apart 7: 

When, to what has been said, it is added that there is a superabundant crop 
of archaisms in this translation, an affectation not oongenial to Horace or his 
admirers, and that such false rhymes as " dawn" — " man," "eld" — " afield," 
occur, page after page, a case has been made out fatal to Mr. Mathews's 
prospects of being held in remembrance as a translator of the Odes. 

The Odes, Epodes, Carmen Saculare, and First Satire of Horace. Translated into 
English Verse by Chbistopheb Hughes. London : Longmans. North- 
ampton : Dorman. 

From the number of attempts at translating Horace, it would seem as if he 
were as popular as ever ; and, to judge by the failure of most of these, as hard to 
transfuse without loss. The bard's captivating manner enlists imitators, who 
do not foresee that it is his finish and grace which will be hardest to reproduce. 
And though these attempts witness to an appreciation of the classics in days 
when some, who owe most to them, are turning their backs upon scholarship, a 
censorship of Horace-translations, with power to imprison and confine some, 
and to strangle others, might be an institution to be desired. To this view we 
are the more inclined after perusing the translations of Mr. Hughes, an attorney- 
at-law, we believe, who, amid professional pursuits alien in the furthest degree 
to poetry, has found time to cultivate his Horace, improving his own taste, and 
beguiling rare leisure in the worthiest way. With so good an intent, it is a 
pity that he did not, before publishing, take " counsel's opinion." His preface 
makes one doubt, " in limine," his being alive to all the difficulties of Horace ; 
and his confession in it that he has translated " from now an old Elzevir, now a 
Milman, then a Delphin, and then, perhaps, a Weber's ' German Corpus,' " 
suggests the misgiving that as, of all these, only the poor Delphin has notes, 
his textual interpretation is very likely to be defective. And what is a translator 
of Horace without an intimate acquaintance with Orelli, Gesner, Bentley , and the 
like ? Professor Conington often gives the gist of one or other of these in a single 
line, and Theodore Martin disdains not the precaution of ascertaining his author's 
meaning from the best commentaries. But Mr. Hughes has manifestly over- 
looked tnis preliminary, and thereby damaged his translation. With its metres 
we have little fault to find. Some are good, some indifferent ; none that we 
have examined absolutely bad. But, as regards the poet's sense and meaning, 
many of his translations substitute half sense for whole sense, and many betray 
a neglect of Latin grammar. ^ „ 

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Notices of Books. 145 

Upon Ode n. xz. 6— 

" Non ego quern vocas 
Dilecte Maecenas, obibo," &c, 

a little more research would have taught him not to punctuate as he has done 
in translating, " And called Maecenas* friend mortality, I scorn ; " and to avoid 
the awkwardness of having two vocatives instead of one, by interpreting " Quern 
voces," " Whom you invite to your society," for which sense of " vocas " there 
is a parallel in " me petit," n. xviii. 10. And a nicer insight would have brought 
out in Od. in. viii. 19, 20,— 

" Medus infestua aibi luctuosis 
Dissidet armis," 
the antithesis which is lost or obscured in — 

"The Mede his own death- wound has dealt," 

because "infestus" points to "war with Borne," and "sibi dissidet" to 
" intestine or civil strifes." 

But much more serious fault lies in omission of important members of sen- 
tences, e.g., in the " Lament for Quinctilius," (i. xxiv.) 12, where, in the lines — 
" Tu frustra pius heu ! non ita ereditum 
Poseos Quinctilium deos," 

the words in italics mean either " intrusted to the gods not so," i.e. "to be 
preserved, not lost," or else " lent to you by them not so," h.e. not absolutely, 
but as a loan to be resumed. Becent translators adopt the former interpreta- 
tion — Professor Oonineton the latter. But Mr. Hughes simply ignores the 
words and their difficulty, translating — 

" By many good men wept he died, 

By none, my Virgil, more than you, — . 
Vainly on virtue you relied, — 

You with vain prayers the gods pursue. 
To us Quinctilius is denied." 

Again, in Europa's words, m. xxvii. 57 — 9 — 

" Potes hac ab orno 
Pendulum zona bene te seentd 
Ladders collum," 

resides infinitely more force and point than Mr. Hughes reproduces. When he 
renders — 

" Tour zone from elm suspended may suggest 
A ready way, 

he banishes altogether "bene te seouta," words meant to tell a tale of that zone, 
which maidens parted with at marriage, being retained by poor Europa, because 
her amour was illicit ; retained, too, as she hints in the adverb bene, to hang 
herself withal. Conington translates — 

" 'Twas well you kept your maiden zone, 
The noose to tie." 

Elsewhere sense and perspicuity suffer from misapprehension of the syntax, 
as in m. iv. 13, &c, q.v. where Mr. Hughes does not see that "mirum quod 
foret," &c, is a clause in apposition to that which precedes it, and that " ut " 
just afterwards depends on "mirum," and means "how." And in the ren- 
dering of — 

" Age die Latinum 

Barbite carmen 
" Lesbio primum modulate civi " — (i. xxzii. 3 — 6), 

occurs a misinterpretation which has puzzled us not a little. As Mr. Hughes 
Englishes it — 

" We ask the air to which Alcasus first 

His Latian song outpoured," 

we are curious to learn of him when first, last, or ever, Alcseus outpoured a 
Latian song ; and how— even if we settle the first difficulty by reading " Lee- 
vol. vn. L 

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146 7 he Centemforary Review. 

bian" for " Latian"— " modulate " can possibly, as in this English it is, be 
referred to " carmen.* 1 

In truth, what is wanting throughout is revision. " Hurry-skurry " is a sm 
against taste. Hence, in turning the words of Nereus to Pans (1. xv.), 

" Neoquioqusm Veneris presidio ferox 
Pectea csBsariem," 

" In vain you comb your locks by Venus' aid," 

the translator makes the goddess of love appear, not a* patron, bat as valet, 
lady's-maid, or nurse-maid of her effeminate favourite. Hence the sins of 
commission and omission in such a rendering as this : — 

" Et superjecto pavicUe natarunt 
JEquore damse." 

"Whilst afraid, 
" Stags swam the deluge to evade, 

Which nature dooms." 

Of a truth suoh scholars as enter really into the spirit of Horace might be 
excused for putting a new interpretation on his line — 

" Exegi monumentum art perennius,*' 
when they see what wretched recastings of him in baser metal are ignorantly 
resorted to. In justice to the bard, and to scholarship and its interests, vk 
would be wrong to speak smooth things of the well-meant but ill-finished copy 
of Horace's golden monument which is before us. 

Sales Attici ; or, the Maxims, Witty and Wise, of Athenian Tragic Drama. Col- 
lected, arranged, and paraphrased by D'Abcy Wentworth Thompson, 
Professor of Greek, Queen's College, Gal way. Edinburgh : Edmonston and 

" ParjEMIOLOGY," the study of the " wisdom of many and the wit of one," 
has been always so attractive that one may augur a large amount of success for 
this happy venture of Mr. D'Arcy Thompson. The Greek fathers of the Church 
enshrine a vast number of proverbs and maxims, but the Greek tragedians teem 
with " adagia," witty and wise. The "gnomae" of Euripides are amongst his 
most marked features ; and his great rivals, as it will be seen in this pleasant 
volume, had a good title to the same character. And there is this ground for 
thankfulness to Mr. Thompson, that he has, where possible, contented himself 
with giving close English parallels for such dramatic maxims as admitted of 
them — parallels from the " old-said sawes" of English proverb-lore. In other 
cases he has thrown into his paraphrase, or translation, a good deal of the air 
and smack of our English proverb-language; and in others, again, he has 
turned the noble and wise moral sentiments of greater length which are found 
in Greek chorus, as well as in the iambic portions of each drama, into telling, 
pointed, didactic, modern dress, such as, when we read it, preserves in a great 
measure the gnomic stamp impressed upon the Greek. Indeed, although pro- 
vorb-lovera set most store by brevity, one cannot too much thank Mr. Thompson 
for the many longer passages which he has vouchsafed ; because they embody, 
as it were, many pearls in one setting ; while, to vary these, there is no lack of 
others that shine out single, simple, and separate. Space forbids us to go at 
length into an enumeration of the riches of tins volume, which has bean but a 
ehort time in our hands, yet which is too valuable to go unnoticed. One or 
two veins may be traced by us a little way, if we oannot pursue the many which 
invite more leisurely research. There is, e.g., the religious tone of <3£schylus 
and Sophocles, more real and notable than that of Euripides, in assigning true 
attributes to the Deity. God's truth is borne testimony to in the maxim, *' God 
oannot lie : whatsoever He speaketh that will He in due time bring to paas " 
(p. 7, § 12), a pretty close translation of the " Prometheus Bound" (▼. 1032-S). 
His omniscience, His hearing prayer from His throne in heaven, is owned by the 
same dramatist in the adage, " Though God is far away, yet He heareth all 
that call upon Him" * (ibid., § 18), an English turning of the iBsehyieaa 
line — 

" cXvit caXovvrof vat wp6a*9tv &v 6f4g" — (Sumen. 287), 

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Notices of Books. 147 

to be paralleled by a sentenoe of Sophocles (Eleetra, 173), paraphrased in p. 71 of 
the ' ' SalesAttici : " God dwelleth in the heavens continually : He aeeth all things, 
and all things are beneath His feet." But if these two or three proverbs mark out 
a line along which to pursue the theme of the reverence of the elder Greek dra- 
matists, it must be owned there are not a few others of a much more heathen 
and debased type. This, from the " Septem c. Thebas," 716 : vicrjv ye Srjirou col 
tatriv Tiftf9i6e, or, as Mr. Thompson puts it, " God respecteth even a knave, if 
he be a lucky knave" (p. 55), is one of a class largely represented in the pages 
before us, which will remind the student, well versed in proverb-literature, of 
the low type of the Italian proverbs. 

But we must give two or three parallels for trite English maxims. In the 
"Supplioes" of JEschylus (484), SiSpic tTrjv paXKov ?/ <to$qq kcikCjv (pp. 50, 51), is 
no fancied prototype of our " Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." 
"God helps them that help themselves," represents, in p. 57, two gnomro, from 
the Persa, and from a "fabula inoerta," of which we give the least known : 
«w0* rb rd/ivovr* avairfvduv 8edc. The germ of " Do at Rome as Rome does," or, 
as Mr. Thompson renders it in p. 143, "1 do at Athens what the Athenians do," 
is Soph., Philoctet., 1049 : otiwtp roiovrwv 8*T, toiqvt6q tip iyut. " Second thoughts 
are best thoughts," is, as many will remember, anticipated in the Hippolytm of 
Euripides (436) : a* favrtpai ir«c tpopriStc aofwrtpai ; and indeed the latest, and 
commonly least esteemed, of the three dramatists has what look like the 
originals of several scores of our trite adages. His tact, however, is greater 
than his moral Bense. Alongside of each other in this volume (p. 401) are found 
a maxim of guidance for daily life, which is excellent, " Good temper is good 
manners ; " and an axiom as to faith and duty which is simply detestable : " In 
matters of religion, my son, go ever with the tide." Both come from the same 
play, the Bacchce. 

We must not close this brief notice without recognising the taste, elegance, 
wit, and brightness of many of Mr. Thompson's poetical reproductions of adages 
of larger <famensionB. We do not know a better version of Sophocles, (Ed. 
T. 189,— 

"TiXeiiror' rf n Nt£ af y 
Toirr' ix' yjtap lp\iTcu ' 

".What work the Night leaves incomplete, 
Day turns out polished, round, and neat." — (P. 75.) 

And the same might be said of many longer passages. The volume will be 
invaluable to the student and to the curious in adages. 


The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia, and the Sword-Runters of the Hamran Arabs. 
By Sir Samuel Bakeb, M.A., P.R.G.8. London : Macmillan & Co. 
This book, — which, though first in point of tho time and order of the explora- 
tions which it doscribes, and the sporting exploits which it narrates, is second 
in point of publication, — conducts the reader, in tho company of Sir Samuel 
Baker, to the time and place at which his former work, " The Albert N'yanza," 
began. This eccentric arrangement of material is not conducive to the scientific 
interest of the author's work, as his readers already know the issue of all the 
speculations raised in its pages. They are familiar with the features of that 
magnificent lake-country of Africa, which he reached after the adventures, 
observations, and explorations here detailed had faded into distance from his 
onward track. The upshot of the discoveries, to a section of which each work 
is devoted, is this : — 

"The lake sources of Central Africa support the life of Egypt, by supplying a st ream , 
throughout all seasons, that has sufficient volume to support the exhaustion of evapora- 
tion and absorption; but this stream, if unaided, could never overflow its banks, and 
Egypt, thus deprived of the annual inundation, would simply exist, and cultivation 

L 2 

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148 "The Contemporary Review. 

would be confined to the close vicinity of the river. The inundation, which, by its 
annual deposit of mud, has actually created the Delta of Lower Egypt, upon the over- 
flow of which the fertility of Egypt depends, has an origin entirely separate from the 
lake sources of Central Africa, and the supply of water is derived exclusively from 

In a word, the equatorial lakes feed Egypt, but the Abyssinian rivers cause 
the inundation. All along the course of those beneficent rivers Sir Samuel Baker 
marched, sometimes in the actual bed of the Atbara and by the Blue Nile, where 
its dimensions had dwindled to those of a mere stream. The narrative in this 
volume of the sudden flood which rushes into " the two gjxeat Abyssinian 
arteries," and how it came rolling and thundoring down within his own sight, 
forms a parallel to the description in his earlier volume of his first view of the 
Victoria N'yanza. This grand phenomenon was preceded by a whirlwind, and 
the mighty rush of the waters began in the night of tho 23rd June. 

" On the morning of the 24th," says the writer, " I stood on the banks of the noble 
Atbara river, at the break of day. The wonder of the desert ! Yesterday there was 
a barren sheet of glaring sand, with a fringe of withered bush and trees upon its borders, 
that cut the yellow expanse of desert. For days we had journeyed along the exhausted 
bed; all nature, even in nature's poverty, was most poor: no bush could boast a leaf; 
no tree could throw a shade; crisp gums crackled upon tho stems of the mimosas ; the 
sap dried upon the burst bark, sprung with the withering heat of the simoon. In one 
night there was a mysterious change, — an army of water was hastening to the wasted 
river ; there was no drop of rain, no thunder-cloud on the horizon to give hope, — all 
had been dry and sultry ; dust and desolation yesterday, to-day a magnificent stream, 
some 500 yards in width, and from 15 to 20 feet in depth, flowed through the dreary 
desert! Bamboos and reeds, with trash of all kinds, were. hurried along the muddy 
waters. Where were all the crowded inhabitants of the pool ? The prison doors were 
broken, the prisoners were released, and rejoiced in the mighty stream of the Atbara. 
The rains were pouring in Abyssinia ! These were the sources of the Xile." 

U Sir Samuel Baker's style is very much superior to that of the generality of 
travellers who take to writing. It is brief, incisive, and graphic, though never 
picturesque. The sentimental, poetic, or religious aspects of the grand subjects 
with which he deals have no attraction for him, but he treats the practical 
aspect, and the results of his journey, with great skill and admirable arrange- 
ment. In the present volume he has only Arabs among " natives " to mention, 
and the reader is not pained and shocked by the hard, positive inhumanity of 
tone which made the "Albert N'yanza," in spite of its value and interest, a 
distressing book to read. To the Arab tribes he grants some good qualities, and 
no lack of intelligence in their own way, and he has no words sufficiently strong 
for his admiration of the courage, the endurance, and the skill of the wonderful 
Hamran hunters, whose exploits require to be seen to be believed. It is when 
he has to speak of the negro tribes that he is so coarse and hard and inhuman in 
his tone. And yet the poor wretches on the White Nile were wonderfully faith- 
ful and useful to him and his wife, and it is difficult to combine that fact with 
his statement of their unmitigated brutishness. It seems to the unprejudiced 
reader rather as if Sir Samuel Baker had begun his explorations with a foregone 
conclusion in his mind, and made everything fit it. No one, with the exception 
of Commander Bedford Pirn, of unenviable celebrity in connection with the 
" nigger" question, has written so coarsely or so hardly of our black brethren 
as Sir Samuel Baker, and we must confess to having opened this book with some 
distaste in consequence ; but there is nothing to object to in its pages. As a 
record of exploration and discovery it is supremely interesting ; as an addition 
to our knowledge of the animal life of Northern Africa it is most valuable ; as a 
story of personal adventure and experience there is no book of modern date to 
be compared to it ; and as opening up strange and wide fields of speculation 
concerning future probabilities for the human race, and the spread of western 
civilization, it has an interest of wide and deep extent. The chapters devoted 
to a description of the author's adventures in the company of the Hamran Arabs 
are most interesting and wonderful. The daring of these men, who attack 
every kind of large " game," elephant, rhinoceros, Hon, &c.,on foot, and without 
other arm than a short sword, almost surpasses belief. The story of the pro- 
longed hunt on so magnificent a scale has great fascination in it, and works the 
reader up to such a pitch of enthusiasm that he is disposed rather to like than to 

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^Notices of Books. 149 

find fault with the illustrations, which are full of dash and expression, but 
absurdly exaggerated. Lions bigger than mammoths, and rhinoceroses in com- 
parison with which mastodons would look little, abound in these Munchausen- 
like pictures ; but that is a very pardonable fault. The volume concludes with 
an able and carefully- stated exposition of the great resources of Upper Egypt, 
and the want of scientific irrigation for their development. The author pleads 
for that. Increase the area of Egypt, he says, to the extent to which it is capable 
of increase, and it will give you an immense amount of cotton and grain. A 
dam across the Atbara would irrigate the entire country from Gozeragup to 
Berber, a distance of upwards of 200 miles ; and the same system upon the 
Nile would carry the waters throughout the deserts between Khartoum and 
Dongola, and thence to Lower Egypt. The Nubian desert, from Korosko to 
Abon|Hamed, would become a garden ; the whole of that sterile country enclosed 
within the great western bend of the Nile towards Dongola, would be embraced 
in the system of irrigation, and the barren sands, which now give birth to the 
bitter melon of the desert, would bring forth the water-melon and heavy crops 
of grain. He concludes with an eloquent appeal to the spirit of European en- 
terprise to do something for the fertilization of the desert. Give Sahara water, 
he says, and Sahara will repay with amply rich gratitude. Perhaps we may 
think about this when we have fought out our quarrel with Abyssinia. 

Narrative of a Journey through Abyssinia in 1862-3. With an Appendix on " The 
Abyssinian Captives Question" By Henry Dufton. London : Chapman 
and Hall. 

The first impression made by Mr. Dufton's book upon the reader is, that he 
is singularly impartial and unprejudiced in his views of the Abyssinian 
question. He does not, like many perfectly well-intentioned, but ill-judging 
Englishmen, rush to the conclusion that because the Emperor Theodore has got 
into trouble with us, everything that has been hitherto stated to his advantage 
must necessarily be false, all favourable accounts of him, that everything which 
tends to elevate him above the level of a bloodthirsty savage, must be mere 
fiction, and the splenetic outbursts of anger and vituperation which have lately 
been hurled against the Napoleon of Abyssinia necessarily true. 

The emphatically moderate and fair tone in which he treats the unfortunate 
subject of quarrel between us and King Theodore inclines one to accord him a 
greater measure of confidence, of Absolute belief, than is always extended to 
the narrators of adventures in unknown lands, and his personal intercourse 
with the kins, who, whatever may be his faults, is undoubtedly one of the 
most remarkable men now in existence, lends his narrative a vivid and romantio 
interest. The tantalizing position in which a sovereign is placed who rules a 
large, almost savage, country, bounded on the side which leans to the light, in 
every sense, by Egypt and the Soudan, the mongrel Christianity of his country 
in constant antagonism to the fanatic Mahometanism on his borders, and the 
fact that envoys can reach him only through the enemy's territory, is well put 
before Mr. Dufton's readers, — a position wnich he evidently believes to be un- 
tenable, even without the accelerating incentive to its destruction of a deadly 
breach with such a power as England. All that portion of Mr. Dufton's narra- 
tive which relates to the king is very interesting, and though we cannot go with 
him in his recommendation that we should keep a footing in Abyssinia (in 
plain words, annex it) when we find ourselves there, we believe the advice 
which he gives, relative to the points for which our expedition should make, to 
be both sound and feasible. The programme which he proposes is, — " 1. To 
get to that portion of Theodore's frontier which is nearest to his capital, for 
purposes of negotiation. This is Matammah. 2. Those negotiations failing, to 
march at once upon his capital. 3. In the event of his retiring, to occupy his 
capital and the rich corn-growing and cattle-breeding districts on the shores of 
Lake Tsana, giving him at the same time to understand that they shall be 
restored to him. on the liberation of the captives." The reasons by which he 
supports this proposal are, so far as outsiders can judge, eminently clear and 
convincing. He is entirely at variance with the idea that in the intestine 
difficulties of King Theodore's divided country we shall find our opportunity. 
He denies that the revolted tribes will help us in any way. The Abyssinian 

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150 The Contemporary Review. 

will never believe us that the force which he will magnify into 50,000 men are 
merely sent to liberate our countrymen. In his eyes our entrance will be an 
invasion, with the object of making Abyssinia another India. He will resist us 
as far as he is able, not unitedly, but individually, by withholding supplies and 
beasts of burden. We need not reckon on getting from him a solitary cow, or 
a bushel of corn, or a mule to carry our baggage, and we may expect the whole 
nation to be on the alert after plunder. If au these prophecies prove themselves, 
the Abyssinian expedition will indeed be a disastrous blunder, and only to be 
" recouped 1 ' by taking possession of the country, and proceeding to colonize it 
forthwith. But we are not inclined to see everything so much en noir as Mr. 
Dufton, even though he possesses the undeniable advantage of knowledge in 
matters where we must stop at speculation and conjecture. As a narrator 
of travel he is more lively than as a prognosticator of history. The chief 
interest of the book attaches to his personal acquaintance with King Theodore, 
the story of his life while following the migratory king about, and the frequent, 
undeniable evidence which he obtained of his former friendship towards 
England, and warm, almost passionate, attachment to his unfortunate English 
friends, Messrs. Bell and Plowden. The story of Theodore's rise from the 
position of a common soldier to his present irresponsible power is one of the 
most wonderful which contemporary history can unfold, and Mr. Dufton 
tells it with much acceptable fulness of detail. The history of Mr. Dufton' s 
journey is not particularly interesting. His style is quite wanting in pictur- 
esqueness, and he falls into the error, so common to travellers, of forgetting 
that his readers cannot see the places he is mentioning, and that therefore it is 
not sufficient to declare their beauty or their grandness; he should paint 
them. Of Abyssinia he says succinctly that it is an earthly paradise. He is an 
ardent admirer of Bruce, and is very careful to verify and vouch for all his 
statements, especially as to the disgusting method and material of the natives' food. 
Ha gives an interesting and favourable account of the Mission to the Abyssinian 
Jews, at which Sir Samuel Baker sneers so bitterly, and devotes considerable 
space to an account of the extraordinary and horrible cases of mania which are 
common among the natives of Abyssinia, and imputed by them to diabolical 
possession. The book has sufficient merit, in spite of the tame tone in which 
the narrative portions of it are written, to be interesting at any time : as a piece 
de drametance it is particularly acceptable. 

Through Spain to the Sahara. By MatHj>a Bstham Edwabds, Author of 
" A Winter with the Swallows," Ac. London : Hunt and Blackett. 

Thottgh Spain is still a little-visited country, a large proportion of the tourists 
who have visited it have recorded their experiences in print, so that ft cannot 
be called a little -known land any lonjr^r. There is nothing new in Miss Edwards's 
work, which is inferior in style to her " Winter with the Swallows ; M but, for all 
that, bright and charming, bearing the marks of hor cultivated mind and cor- 
rect taste. She is a little too fond of quoting from Latin authors, and she tells 
the reader unnecessarily often that her object in going to Madrid was to study 
Velasquez. One is always prepared and pleased to near about Velasquez and 
Murillo, — as inevitable, and infinitely more interesting than the horrid bull- 
fights which every one goes to see, and every one denounces. But Lady Herbert 
has so lately taken all readers of " travels " over precisely the same ground, that 
it is somewnat tedious to make tho journey in this instance. Miss Edwards is 
a thoroughly good-humoured and appreciative traveller, and all the personal 
narrative in her book is charming. She utterly denies the charges of extortion, 
incivility, and uncleanliness so freely brought by British tourists against Spanish 
innkeepers; and though she gives a hidicrous account of tho unpunctuaKty, slow- 
ness, and laissez-aller of the railway system, she describes the results as exceed- 
ingly luxurious and delightful. Happily she does not go much into the political 
situation in Spain, for her abilities are not of the order required for the treatment 
of such questions. She is a little cloudy in her history sometimes — as, for in- 
stance, when she speaks of the Inauisition in Spain as " the system of Ignatius 
Loyola," which is not just, as we nrink, to the Jesuits, or, as they would think, 
to the Dominicans. The author's sketches of Algiers, Oran, Saida, and the 
glimpses of desert life caught by her on her way to Blidah, are very bright. 

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Notices of Books* 151 

pleasant, and picturesque She reached Blidah immediately after a great shook 
of earthquake had wrought wild rain, and describee the desolation of the scene 
as terrible, the despair of the population as heart-rending. Only the Arabs 
remained undisturbed. " * It is the will of God, ' they say when any evil happens; 
and they resign themselves to it, outwardly calm as statues." 

Far Away ; or, Sketches of Scenery and Society i/m Mauritut*. By Chablbb John 
Boyle. London : Chapman and TT»H- 
Mr. Botlb writes well, in a pleasant, chatty style, but his work has not had 
sufficient or judicious revision, and he has fallen into the error which so easily 
besets writers who compile books from correspondence. He has retained a 
number of personal allusions, references to common recollections, and small 
jokes, which are not very intelligible or at all interesting to the general and 
uninitiated reader. The impression of life in Mauritius afforded by this book 
is Tory pleasant. It has its* drawbacks in mosquitoes, ants, and " MaJabars," as 
all' the native inhabitants, no matter of what race, are promiscuously called. 
Its advantages are far more numerous and important. The glorious climate, 
the wonderful natural beauty, the splendid trees, the pervading presence of 
superb colour, the general ease of life, the universal hospitality, and the absence 
of poverty, are large ingredients in the happiness and peace of existence. The 
" coloured " population are of various origin, and differ widely in point of intel- 
ligence, but they all entertain the reckless disregard of life which is common to 
(Mentals. The Hindoos in Mauritius are of the lowest grade, and, even for 
Hindoos, grossly superstitions. There is a story of a servant, a convert to 
Christianity, quite equal to that of the New Zealander who conformed to the 
Christian law of marriage by eating his surplus wives. " The family in whose 
service this man was, were about to start on a long- journey, when he was 
caught in the act of sacrificing a lamb. * How is this ? ' said Gen. ; * sacri- 
ficing a Iamb P Why, you are a Christian ! * ' Well, yes, so I am, but though 
the Blessed Virgin is good, Vishnu is good too, and here we are, going a long 
way, and there are elephants in the jungle, and I thought if I could please the 
Virgin and Vishnu as well, we should have a double chance of getting through 
safety." A few chapters devoted to the Fauna and Mora of Mauritius, and the 
author's description of the beauty of the giant vegetation of the forests, are of 
transcendent interest. 

Pictures in Tyrol and Elsewhere. From a Family Sketch-Book. By the Author of 
" A Voyage en Zigzag." London : Longmans. 
It is difficult to tire of descriptions of mountain travel, however multiplied. 
The magio of the mountains, which exerts so potent a spell over the traveller, ex- 
tends to the reader too, and tempts him through volume after volume of the lite- 
rature of climbing. One of his pleasantest excursions was that made in company 
with the travellers " en Zigzag," and another opportunity of the same kind is 
sure to be accepted with delight In Tyrol, * ' and elsewhere," the writer of those 
charming descriptive chapters, the artist who drew those matchless sketches, so 
full of truth, humour, fun, and freshness, must be the most acceptable of com- 
panions. This volume is only superior to its predecessor inasmuch as there is 
more of it. 

With Maximilian in Mexico. From the Note-Book of a Mexican Officer. By 
Max, Bakon von Albenslbben, late Lieutenant in the Imperial Mexican 
Army. London: Longmans. 

Max, Baron von Albensi<eben, is an extremely well-intentioned individual, 
with more sentiment and enthusiasm than judgment and prudence. Impelled 
by a strong; personal admiration of the unfortunate Emperor Maximilian, he 
joined the imperial army at a period when its fortunes were rapidly waning, 
and doubtless conducted himself remarkably well during* the brief period of his 
service in the falling cause ; but he would have done much better not to have 
written a book which, while professing to be a tribute to the memory of the 
archduke, whom he praises in terms of absurd hyperbole, and of whose career 
he takes an utterly impractical view — indeed, a view totally opposed to facts — 
» in reality a silly and verbose piece of self-glorification, quite worthless as a 


152 l^he Contemporary Review. 

contribution to the history of a very remarkable period in our time, and which 
true and honest criticism must condemn. Of MMrimiliMn, the impulsive and 
" gashing " Baron has really nothing whatever to tell. The reader cannot dis- 
cover from the book whether the writer was ever in the presence of the Emperor. 
Nothing can exceed the cloudiness of the narrative, except it be its flimsiness, 
and the value of the Baron'B opinion on the whole case may be estimated from 
the fact that he gravely declares Maximilian's failure to be attributable to his 
superhuman virtue and, purity of mind, which rendered him incapable of sus- 
pecting or believing in the existence of evil in others. In a word, Maximilian, 
according to the Baron, was much too good to live, and he expects history to 
arrive at the same conclusion. For the rest, the book is mere rubbish— denun- 
ciation of " perjured traitors," romantic descriptions of eternal friendships, and 
deadly treacheries, ending with a duel, in which the Baron's adversary " fallB 
bleeding at his feet," and the Baron instantly jumps into a boat, and, fortunately 
for him, makes his escape from Mexico. This book is intended as a monumental 
tribute to Maximilian. It is much to be hoped that the " House of Hapsburg " 
will not understand its merits very clearly. 


Guild Court. By Geobge MacDowaij), M.A., Author of "Alec Forbes of 
Howglen," "David Elginbrod," &c. &c Three Volumes. London: 
Hurst and Blackett. 

When criticism has done its worst upon a new book of Mr. George MacDonald, 
the book remains a valuable gift. It is impossible to read him without pas- 
sionate admiration constantly rising into something better, though the short- 
comings of his work may be even glaring. It is due to him to try and get it 
clearly understood that he never was intended to write novels or three-volume 
stories. He is, by nature, a cross — unique, so far as our knowledge goes— -be- 
tween the poet and the spiritual teacher. Stooping, however, to the conditions 
of the novel, Mr. MacDonald is still himself— a beautiful, inspiriting, pellucid 
writer. Of the purity and brightness of his work it is difficult to speak without 
seeming to bring down an echo of Minerva-press — cerulean is' the adjective that 
belongs to both tne brightness and the purity. It is not by any means as if Mr. 
MacDonald looked down from the skies upon the life he sees, but rather as if 
the life itself were lifted upwards ; as if a groundswell of glamour carried his 
scenery and his people " up high," as children say. It often seems as if bright, 
coloured clouds flitted between him and his object, so that it is for a moment 
seen with prismatic distortion and prismatic hues; but the light is there 
always in some shape. A little sense of unreality keeps slipping into the 
reader's mind, because Mr. MacDonald, though he has a fine, peculiar humour, 
has not the same kind of humour as Jean Paul and some others ; he never laughs 
at himself, is never so roughly tickled by a thrust from a hard fact as to get 
shaken out of the glamour. He does not readily take to the deep, pathetic fun 
there is in the disparities of life ; or, perhaps, for some reason, he does not do 
himself justice in this respect, for Mr. MacDonald has grown, and is growing, 
so much that it is hazardous to insist upon deficiencies in him, though short- 
comings (a word which, as distinguished from faults, is in his case the true one) 
in his work cannot escape notice. 

The peculiarity of "Guild Court" is that it is a London story; that Mr. 
MacDonald has, in writing it, deliberately cut himself oft from one source of 
power, or at least facility of expression, in abjuring the Scotch dialect ; and that 
he has also set himself the task of dealing with quite commonplace people. Mr. 
Fuller is more a mouthpiece than a man, so he is no exception ; and Lucy, the 
kind, faithful, little heroine, is deliberately painted as an ordinary girl (voL iii. 
p. 62), who is even capable of a rather " small " thing. We are told (vol. i 
p. 136) that Thomas Worboise " was not so [ill-tempered] as this always, or 
even gentle-tempered Lucy would have quarrelled witn him, if it had been only 
for the sake of getting rid of him." Of course strong, noble natures do not 

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Nottces of Books. 153 

stoop to the meanness of quarrelling at all ; and if they did, it would not be in 
order to "get rid of" anybody. But Lucy is simply good, sweet, constant, 
and capable of following a high initiative. As for Thomas, the hero, he inevit- 
ably reminds one of what Luke, the mill-servant, used to say to Maggie Tulliver 
about the prodigal son : " Eh, miss ! " — but we forget the exact words, only they 
implied a strong doubt of the permanency of the young man's good resolutions. 
The love-making of the story is very sweet and pretty ; but, strange to say, the 
best of it is in the first part of the book, and Mary Boxall, after she gets her 
little kiss on the shoulder, carries away far too much of the reader's sympathy 
to permit him to like Lucy as well as she deserves. The want of moral force, or 
driving power, in Thomas, shown, among other ways, in his utter incapacity 
to deal bravely (and as " honourably " as the situation permitted) with his self- 
created Mary Boxall difficulty, is, to our thinking, a far more humiliating thing 
than the frank, "nut," semi-animalism of the horsey Miss Hubbard, whose 
talk with (Thomas Mr. MacDonald declines to describe, in these words (vol. ii. 
p. 208) :— 

" But why should I go farther with the record of such talk P It ia not interesting to 
me, and therefore can hardly be so to my readers. Even if I had the art to set it forth 
aright, I hope I should yet hold to my present belief that nothing in which the art is 
uppermost is worth the art expended upon it." 

In another place Mr. MacDonald makes Lucy tell Mattie, an old-fashioned 
little girl, that if monkeys disgust her, that is what they were made for. Just 
so ; and Miss Hubbard was made for something too, of which it is a shame to 
cheat us in this way. It is too bad to ride off upon the "art" question — it is 
not " art" that is uppermost in, say, Fielding's picture of Parson Trulliber, but 
free-playing sympathy. We know how difficult it is (if not impossible, or at 
least unexampled) to get this free play along with height and purity like Mr. 
MacDonald's ; and we should not have said a word if we did not believe that Mr. 
MacDonald has the requisite " art," if he will only cut his cable and trust him- 
self. Elsewhere (vol. ii. p. 176) Mr. MacDonald says, " There are no natural 
types that do not dimly work their own spiritual reality upon the open heart 
of the human being." Deep and true words, of a far wider significance than 
they bear upon the page in question. If any man living could trust himself to 
sketch fully a type like Miss Hubbard, and yet remain faithful to his best vision 
of the best type, that man is Mr. MacDonald. In all his writing we have never 
been sensible of one jarring note, of a single moment's moral discord. To 
return to a point just touched upon at the beginning — the grandeur of life and 
duty may be suggested by showing us freely a figure like Miss Hubbard's (ten 
times more real, even as she is left, than Mr. Fuller), because there is infinite 
humour in the irrelevance of such a figure to the awfulness and beauty of the 
great spectacle. It is in not availing himself sufficiently of this irrelevance, as 
a moral power as well as a relief to his other " effects, that we venture, with 
the deepest respect, to think Mr. MacDonald does a little injustice to himself. 
The man who can do that natural old Mrs. Boxall may trust his " art " for some 
other matters, and we hope he will. 

For the rest, "Guild Court "is a story of strong interest, moving on quiet 
middle-class levels, and among the domestic passions and the domestic interests. 
There is an air of home-neea about it all which is incomparably sweet. We 
should think nobody will begin it without reading it through, and that nobody 
will finish it without feeling exhilarated and strengthened. It is the most un- 
equal story Mr. MacDonald has ever written, but it contains no confusing alloy. 
You have always before you either gold, or something which you recognise for 
exactly what it is. And if you are a London man, you shut up the book with 
a longing wish that you knew where St. Amos' s is, and could drop in when you 
pleased, to hear Mr. Fuller read prayers in the quiet while the traffic was raging 
outside. Let the reader buy " Guild Court," and find out what this means. 

The Guardian Angel. By Oliveb Wendell Holmes, Author of ' « The Autocrat 
of the Breakfast Table." Two Volumes. London : Sampson Low, Son, 
and Marston. 

Mr. Holmes' " Guardian Angel" has some value as a story, but more as a 
psychological study, and more still as being at once the symbol and result of 

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154 ^he Contemporary "Review. 

peculiar social and intellectual conditions. Those characters in the work which 
have really an independent existence — that is, which are creatively realized and 
developed from vital centres — are so thrown into the background that the interest 
in them is only awakened to be tantalizingly sucked awayoy those porous buffers 
which have been so cleverly interjected to keep Myrtle Hazard — the heroine— 
from becoming essentially a sort of second Elsie Venner. This we shall explain 
more fully in a moment. Myrtle is supposed to inherit the predispositions of no 
less than seven progenitors, and she lives through their lives in separate stages 
of hers. She is, in fact, " possessed ; " being a witch, a Puritan martyr, a woman 
of beauty and fashion, a Bed Indian, and so on by turns. Now, the whole chance 
of keeping this sort of exceptional central interest from becoming so morbid and 
oppressive as to positively repel, lay in running up to the parallels of Myrtle 
Hazard's life advance lines of normal, common influences, so powerful as to 
relieve, and yet net to completely counteract, the dominating psychological in- 
fluences personified in her. Mr. Holmes 'has not wholly succeeded in this 
because his mind is in the main scientific. George MacDonald, for instance, who 
more than almost any of our English writers inclines to this sort of study, loses 
his hold where Mr. Holmes is meet powerful, and regains it exactly where he loses. 
Mr. MacDonald is constantly striving to throw inside the enchanted circle of phy- 
sico-psychological conditions spiritual eleetrie linesconveying currents that over- 
charge the ordinary elements of life, till at last breaches are made in the outer 
bulwarks ; and, by these, ordinary men and women may advance to the inmost 
citadel of the enemy, and find in the religious instincts a means of approaching 
and aiding poor fellow-creatures possessed and beaten by devils in whatever form. 
Euphra Cameron's letter to the dead David Elginbrod is the mystic breach 
by which the ministry of Margaret Elginbrod — who, it should be remembered, 
had no special force of will or remotest possibility of counter-fascination— 
becomes possible. Mr. Holmes seems really to be of old Dr. Hurlbnt's opinion 
that " live folks are only dead folks warmed over ; " but at the same tone he 
regards Nature as constantly working towards criseB and readjustments, the true 
cure being the careful help and acceleration of her processes. " Biles Oridley, 
A.M.," is therefore a most commonplace " Guardian Angel," who seems dynami- 
cally separated from the very personality he is so intimately bound up with. 
He, after all, lives outside it — a stranger to its mystery — one of the porous 
buffers, which destroy dramatic continuity by the very interest they excite. Mr. 
Holmes is the positivist ; Mr. MacDonald is the mystic. Both to some extent, 
though from opposite sides, slide off from that magio centre which lies between 
spirit and body, ideal and actual, making them at once wonderful and nedis- 
tinguishable. And the result is that both, at certain points, destroy the creative 
medium, and have to anchor a certain class of their characters within separate 
arbitrary circles, and to work them together by mere tricks of the intellect 
Just in the degree that Dr. Fordyce Hurlbut and Clement Lindsay — two of 
Mr. Holmes' most ambitious characters — are brought under the fascination of 
Myrtle, are we separated from Kitty Fagan, Cynthia Badlam, and the rest, who, 
as genuinely natural beings, most deeply excite our curiosity and our sympathy. 
That subtle impalpable element, in which art has its very life, is excluded, and 
hard scientific exactness takes its place. Here inheritance seems Fate, and the 
spiritual world becomes either a nonentity or a lie, with due result of doubtful 
teaching. When Susan Posey's simple letter decides Clement Lindsay, the 
sculptor, to throw off the yoke and decide for duty— making him smash to 
atoms the image by forming which, in the passion of artistic creation, he had 
linked and lashed his unstable soul more firmly to a perilous enchantment— the 
moral impression is good ; but that must yield to something like a hard scien- 
tific law of affinity, of necessity bringing like to like in due time, when Clement 
Lindsay weds Myrtle Hazard. The laws of art's kingdom, which cometh not 
with observation, are deeper than those of science's kingdom, which so comes; 
and all clever manipulation — and Mr. Holmes' manipulation is unspeakably 
clever— will not make the one set of laws cover the field of the other with any 
satisfactory result. We have here scientific materials used to ends of art, but 
with no artistic result ; and though we heartily recommend this story to our 
readers, we wish them to be fully alive to these facts. 

But we said it was mainly valuable as the symbol and result of social and in- 
tellectual conditions. "We believe such a book was possible in no country save 

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Notices of Books. 155 

America and at no time save the present. A vitaTfactor which has dominantly 
entered into any national life can never, in our opinion, be practically elimi- 
nated from it. Calvinistic Puritanism lies deep in the American character, 
and though attempts are now being largely made to get rid of it logically as a 
mere mode of thought, as a fact of life, it returns in the strangest manner, colour- 
ing; and deepening all forms of thought, notwithstanding the strange conglome- 
rate strata the stream has to rise through and flow over. And these strange 
strata do not impede it ; they but impart to it a trace of their own peculiar dyes* 
America, with her boundless physical resources, her strange admixtures of race, 
her spiritual crampedness, and her eager, almost feverish reaching out for, and 
sharp assimilation of, all new facts and elements of civilization — in one word, with 
her restless ermui and despair of the body even in the blind worship of that 
which pertains to the body — is an interesting phenomenon ; and what form 
could her Calvinism well take but that which Mr. Holmes has hero so skil- 
fully -wrought out, and which he has thus succinctly expressed ? — 

44 And now the reader, if such there be, who believes in the absolute independence and 
satf^etennmatkra of the will, and the consequent total responsibility of every human 
being for every irregular nervous action and ill-governed muscular contraction, may as 
well lay down this narrative, er he may loBe-all faith, in poor Myrtle Hazard, and all 
patience with him who telle her story." 

It is from the old deep Calvinistic idea in contact with transitional ill-assorted 
external elements running into grotesque arrangements— just as things lie 
mixed in a back wood's " store "— whieh has given us at once the far- withdrawn 
quaaitnees of Hawthorne, the deep-shaded humour of Holmes, and the in- 
naitable drollery of Artemus Ward. All spring from the same earnestness 
playing against capriciously-assorted objects which it sees a profound 
raeartmg in, yet delights to view with one eye close or winking. There are 
single sentences in Mr. Holmes that, like the stones on some soils strengthen- 
ing them, might have been picked out of Artemus. 

Norwood; or, Village Lift in New England. By Henby Ward Beechbb. 
London : Sampson Low, Son, andMarston. 

" Norwood " is no more a novel than it is a table of logarithms ; but then, 
as the reverend author artfully abstains from calling it by that name, it must 
not be criticized by the laws of the noveL It belongs to a type of story of 
whieh American literature has given us a good many specimens — Mrs. Stowe's 
"Minister's Wooing' 1 and "The Gaywortnys," for example. But while its 
literary qualities and its suggestive power are much higher than those of a work 
like "The Gayworthys," it is far inferior, as a story, to " The Minister's 
Wooing." We put the case in this form, not because comparisons are as a rule 
desirable, but for the sake of giving in small compass an idea of the rank 
" Norwood " may take, and the general character of its contents. Mr. Beecher's 
strength lies in character, and in the moral criticism evoked by the collision, or 
rather juxtaposition, of character. In other hands the scheme of his volumes 
might well have made a more affecting story ; but in his hands it is chiefly Mr. 
Beecher that affects us, and not so much the narrative, though that is touching 
too. Fortunately, he is strong enough to wield a good deal of power, even in 
spite of the gross mistake of interweaving the story of the American war with 
the fiction. Mr. Kingsley made a similar false step (though not to such a 
degree) in "Two Years Ago." The nature of the mistake is obvious. When 
nothing is said one way or the other as to what is " real " and what is invented, 
we accept the illusion of a story, and ask no questions ; but the moment any- 
body says, "founded on mot," or the like, or does what is equivalent, namely, 
introduces newspaper material, as Mr. Beecher does, we are reminded that cer- 
tain of the events narrated have really happened, while as to others we must 
be uncertain, or more. Even what might be newspaper material, if it comes toe- 
close to familiar matter of fact, iB damaging, as was so unhappily shown in 
"Aurora Leigh." To this day it is almost an open question whether an his- 
torical novel can be a true work of art— i.e., satisfactory as to the illusion; 
but one thing is certain, that to mix up the well-known facts of yesterday with 
an invented story is sure to produce a very imperfect result upon a reader of 

In spite of this, and that other drawback of the preacher's too frequent eye 

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156 The Contemporary Review. 

to edification, "Norwood" is sufficiently successful, even as a work of fiction, 
to be a surprise to those who previously knew Mr. Beecher only in another 
capacity. All the character is well drawn, and the general handling Bhows 
an insight which goes far to console us for the missing art de confer. Some of 
the little episodes are admirable ; the anecdotes of old Pete, for instance 4 . 

American literature may, perhaps, be said to furnish a crude answer, or a 
crude suggestion of an answer, to those who, in our own day, so haughtily 
decry "sentiment" as incompatible with strictly " human " energy ana the 
honest service of Duty. The American nation is as sentimental as Joseph 
Surface — the book before us is a perfect eruption of sentiment, most of it, 
indeed, noble and beautiful. Dr. Beecher is a man of tried energy and activity, 
et he goes on here like " foolish nineteen." He is too practised a writer, and 
as too much humour and truthfulness in him to condescend to mere high- 
falutin' ; but if we were to describe " Norwood " as w a story written by a young 
American professor of much ability, who was over head and ears in love at the 
time of writing it, we should scarcely fail to convey some sort of true impression 
to the reader. One of its most obvious faults is that it is too crowdea ; but, 
with a hundred points to irritate the critic,- and too often heavy with " positive 
fact" or matter " founded on fact," "Norwood" is a book which no one who 
has learned for other reasons to respect Dr. Beecher should omit to read. 

MabeVs Progress. A Novel. By the Author of " Aunt Margaret's Trouble." 
London : Chapman and Hall. 

"Mabel's Progbess" is such an improvement upon "Aunt Margaret's 
Trouble," that nobody would guess it was by the same author; but certain 
passages in the theatrical experiences of Mabel make it almost impossible not 
to identify the author of the novel with the author of certain charming papers 
which, appearing in another place some months ago, excited considerable 
curiosity. In all the three instances we find the same kind-heartedness, the 
same quickness of observation, the same fluent sympathy, the same histrionic 
bent, and, above all, the same utter openness or want of reserve. If Mabel 
had not left the stage, it might be worth while t*> remind her that this fluent 
openness is a great defect in our actor, who must be able not only to take on 
the individuality of another, but to suppress his own. In the language of the 
phrenologists, he must not only have large Imitation, he must have large 
Hecretiveness. And this is the very first particular in which "Mabel's Pro- 
gress " strikes an experienced eye as falling short. In spite of the story, in 
spite of the multitude and variety of the characters, and L the interest of the 
situations, the book is a revelation from beginning to end. A more winning 
peculiarity a "new writer" could not have. The fact is, you fancy as you 
read that this kind, gay creature is going to offer you her hand ; and, at 
parting, you drop ceremony and give it as sound a shaking as you can be for- 
given for. 

The greatest faults of " Aunt Margaret's Trouble" lay in the story and the 
people. The latter, except Stock the gardener, were lay figures, and the pas- 
sions and the morale of the narrative were jejune. In " Mabel's Progress " this 
is mended. The accomplished author has boldly walked up to a larger canvas, 
and felicitously filled it. The story is good, the characters are well conceived, 
the style is natural, and the moral, motif, or intention so admirable, that it 
remains unaffected — a great triumph — by the imperfect apprehension of the 
" evangelical " type which has permitted a caricature like Miss Fluke. Even 
Stock was wide of the mark, though evidently intended for a copy ; but Miss 
Fluke is a figure dashed in with a pencil that can do much better if it likes. 
Still, she is a powerfully-drawn caricature : it is impossible not to laugh at her, 
and it must be remembered, by those who find it unpleasant as well as powerful, 
that the " Hard Church " type may show more disagreeably than they know to 
one who has evidently been brought into active collision with it on points of 

" Mabel's Progress" is strictly a novel, using that word in the most obvious, 
accepted sense. It deals with common scenes and ordinary society, and it has 
no romance in it except such as may be seen by any one who walks through 
London with his eyes open. Such material as commercial failure, the drop- 
down of a well-to-do family, the efforts of a son in one case, and a daughter in 
the other, to retrieve the situation; a "course of true love" made rough by 

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Notices of Books. 157 

misfortune, honourable pride, and honourable delicacy, but flowing into haven 
at last ; the self-betrayal of characters of weak fibre ; the degradation of cha- 
racters of no fibre at all ; the cruelty of characters that are over-fibrous ; the 
pathetic goodness of childlike inexperience, — out of these and their natural 
accessories the author of "Mabel's Progress" has woven a moving, urfexag- 
eerated story. Its spontaneity makes us hope that the author may some day 
find her way to a class of work far better than the novel. One says, looking at 
" Mabel's Progress," the author has produced a charming book ; it is evidently 
" put together," however sweetly and naturally. But only a penny-a-liner 
would say Keats produced the " Eve of St. Agnes," or Fouque" " Undine," or St. 
Pierre " Paul and Virginia." Whatever the facts of her career as a writer may 
prove to be, we do not hesitate to say that her affinities, though not, so far as 
yet appears, of the deepest, do lie, weaker or stronger, with a nobler school 
than that in which she now appears desirous to take her degree. The figure 
and story of Corda Trescott are decisive evidence upon that question. 

Old Sir Douglas. By the Hon. Mrs. Norton, Author of " Lost and Saved," &c. 
Three Volumes. Second Edition. London : Hurst and Blackett. 

It is scarcely possible, while turning over a novel by the Honourable Mrs. 
Norton, to avoid a passing consciousness of the speed with which the literature 
of fiction has been casting its skin during the last fiye-and-twenty years. 
Where shall we now find a style or a manner of conception like hers ? Both 
the method and the more superficial characteristics belong to an era which 
might almost be called pre-Wordsworthian. The critic of to-day is scarcely 
accustomed to handle such material ; he feels as if he wanted to go and 
talk it over with somebody like the late Mr. T. L. Peacock, lest the habits of 
thought engendered by what he is habitually forced to read should do it some 

One thing is clear —the gifted author of "Stuart of Dunleath" has not for- 
gotten her ancient cunning, her polish, her varied knowledge of men and cities, 
or her equally varied reading. Nor has she left behind her any of her power 
of expressing, without obtruding, indignation at wrong ; or her gift of rhetoric, 
highly coloured with poetic feeling. " Old Sir Douglas " may be said to fulfil 
all the conditions of the novel. We have seen numerous objections to certain 
parts of it, but none which we do net believe Mrs. Norton could instantly 
answer. Her work has evidently been planned with care, and carried onward 
with a resolute hand. Nor can all the delicate self-control of the artist conceal 
the sense of delight in doing "justice" on a scoundrel which underlies the 
merciless irony of hatred that pursues the man Frere till he goes horribly to 
"his own place." It is a portrait, whoever the original was, or is; so, per- 
haps, is Meg Carmiohael. At all events, she is sketched with much reality. 
The narrative contains at least one highly dramatic surprise. 

One passage made us laugh aloud, though it was not intended by the author 
to be funny. We are told (vol. i. p. 129) that Lord Brougham's theory of 
dreaming is so and so, " in proof of which, he says, you have only to go and 
ran a pin sharply into a slumbering friend." Only ! This is very like Lord 
Brougham, who has in his time run a good many pins sharply into a good 
many people; but any one who has contemplated the well-known bust of the 
Honourable Mrs. Norton cannot with complacency think of her running a pin 
sharply into a slumbering friend — Lord Dufferin, for example, to whom the 
novel is inscribed, in one of those strongly-phrased, and yet delicate dedica- 
tions, in which the author is so felicitous. 


The Government of England, to Structure and Development. By William 
Edwabd Hearn, LL.D., Professor of History antf Political Economy in 
the University of Melbourne. London : Longmans. Melbourne : George 
Bobertson. 1867. 

The fact that a bulky octavo on .the above subject, from the pen of a Victorian 
professor, should have found its [way to the mother country with a Victorian 

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158 The Contemporary Review. 

imprint, lias attracted much notice already. Dr. Hearn's learned and instructive 
work would deserve a far more elaborate review than can possibly be given to 
it in these pages. Its plan is original, and every page bears the mark of a mind 
which has thought out its subject ; whilst the occasional references to colonial 
history and practice give — for an old-world reader at least — a certain wet and 
flavour to its matter. But the most remarkable feature of the work is by no 
means its novelty. What should well reassure those who, at every political 
change among us, see the " flood-gates of revolution " ready to burst on our 
devoted country, is to find that under a rSfjime of universal suffrage, artisan 
representation, and common schools supported bv rates, Dr. Hearn imperturb- 
ably sets forth the old traditional theories of English constitutionalism — declaring 
on the one hand that, " whatever may be its merits, democracy has no place in 
English law ; " carefully proving, on the other, that " the royal will in contem- 
plation of law is by no means the mere personal will of the king," but " his 
official will," carried into effect by certain special organs provided by law, all 
distinct, and none of them " competent to perform the functions of the other." 
In terms, at least, Dr. Hearn indeed falls short of the current doctrines as to the 
sovereignty of Parliament, maintaining that "the power of legislation resides 
in Queen Victoria no less than it resided in "William the Norman," except that 
•* the conditions under which that power is exercised are very different." He 
goes so far as to deny the legality of sudden creations of peers for a special 
emergency, and devotes several pages to proving that " the stoppage of supplies" 
is " no longer a constitutional remedy." Dr. Hearn's chapters on " the Caoinet" 
and on •' Political Representation " may be pointed out as favourable specimens 
of his historical research and acumen. But could he not have shortened his 
work ? Its bulk must repel many a reader whom it would well deserve to 

Curious Myths of the Middle Ages. By S. Baring Gottld, M.A., Author of 
" Post-Mediseval Preachers," &c. Second Series. London, Oxford, and 
Cambridge: Rivingtons. 

Mr. Basing Gould's second dozen of " Curious Myths," if dealing generally 
with less familiar subjects than the first, will be no less delightful to all who 
relish a quaint tale and the hunting up of its pedigree. The bent of his mind 
is to resolve all legends into nature-myths concerning earth and sky, sun and 
moon, clouds and rain, dew, lightning, thunder, putting aside entirely the view 
which connects them with the mysteries of living nature, both of man and of 
animals, making sparing use of philology, Dr. Max Muller's sole master-key, and 
(except for the legend of Theophilus) wholly pretermitting the possibility of an 
underlying historic element. Whether a really comprehensive physiology of 
legend can be established otherwise than by an impartial recognition of all these 
various elements (together with an often enormous admixture of mere lying) as 
entering into its composition, may perhaps be doubted. To what extent such 
last adventitious matter may be present, Mr. Baring Gould shows excellently 
in treating of St. Ursula and the eleven thousand virgins. These he does not, 
according to the current Protestant view, resolve into a St. Undeeionetta, bat 
traces the whole legend back to the Swabian moon-goddess Honel-Isis, queen 
of the many thousand stars ; telling meanwhile how the bones in an old Boman 
cemetery having been once identified by ecstatic vision with those of the virgin- 
martyrs, such visions had to be repeated again and again to account for the 
presence of male bones, of sepulchral slabs, of the bones of children. Mr. Baring 
Gould has a visible leaning towards the Boman Catholic Church, but fortunately 
for him he has also a true Protestant and English horror of falsehood, which 
shields him from her seductions. Some of his views as to the lingering under- 
current of Druidism in our lower forms of dissenting worship deserve careful 
weighing. But he might have looked higher. Rightly insisting that the Christian 
doctrine is that of the resurrection of the body, he mi^ht have observed that the 
popular theology of the day, in its almost exclusive insistence on the immortality 
of the soul, is, even on the lips of its most refined opponents, far more akin to 
the teaching of the Pha?do than to that of our Saviour and His apostles, and 
that the ordinary Tartarology flows far more directly from the sixth book of the 
JBneid than from anything in Holy Scripture. 

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Notices of Books* 159 

European Armaments in 1867 : based upon Letter* reprinted, by permission, 
from the Times. By Captain G. B. Brackenbury, R.A., Assistant-Director 
of Artillery Studies. London : Chapman and Hail. 

Captain Brackekbury'b book, baaed upon letters descriptive of the imple- 
ments of war lately exhibited at Paris, is just what is required by those who 
would like to follow with intelligent interest the discussions constantly arising 
on the subject. The only want felt by the reader is that of illustrations, without 
which the best descriptions of machinery ore necessarily obscure. The author 
enters fully into the requisites for good ordnance, and describes the different 
experiments which hare been made in Europe and America in the manufacture 
of guns ; and it is consoling to find that he considers us at the least fully abreast 
of other nations in our preparedness for war, as far as material is concerned. 

In these days of constant change and improvement it was, perhaps, as well 
that Captain Brackenbury' s criticisms should be confined to schemes which have 
stood the test of practical trial. He therefore, in his chapter on naval archi- 
tecture, says nothing about the plan of indented ports for ships, which promises 
to combine the advantages of the broadside and turret systems of armament, or 
of the suggestion of introducing into large guns an internal ring of metal joined 
to the body of the gun at the breech only, and so constructed that the powder 
will lie within and all round, the object being to lesson the strain on the breech 
by distributing the force of the explosion over a larger surface of metal. 

Captain Brackenbury is, indeed, quite pathetic on the woes of inventors. 
"A brilliant idea," he says, "occurs to somebody; he makes drawings, or 
embodies his thoughts in a model, and from that moment happiness deserts 
him and peace flies from his pillow for evermore." On which passage take the 
following oy way of comment : " Warren's cooking- stove," writes the author, 
" has the defect of only cooking properly in a state of rest." It is within the 
knowledge of the present writer that, at the time of the Crimean war, one of our 
engineers had designed a military cooking-stove to accompany the troops on 
the march and cook their rations while in motion. This cooking-waggon he 
intended to have made at his own expense, and to have driven it through the 
streets of London in operation; but he was so disgusted with the result of 
inquiries made at the Horse Guards respecting a cannon invented by a foreigner, 
and recommended to our Government by an ambassador, whose letter, with 
subject, had been foot, that he gave up the matter entirely. 

A Paper read before Hie University College Students Christian Association. By 
Professor Seeley. London : EL K. Lewis. 

Essays of this kind have seldom more than a local and passing interest, and 
for the most part may well be left unnoticed by the reviewer. But there are 
many reasons which lead those who are watching the " signs of the times," in 
their bearing on religious thought, to regard any utterances of Professor Seeley 
with special attention ; and on this ground we commend this " Paper," slight 
and fugitive as it is in form, to their careful notice. 

It is, indeed, so brief as hardly to bear epitomizing, and yet it seems neces- 
sary to give some account of it He begins, then, with recognising that among 
students, as in other classes, there will be many " not made for inquiry. 
" Those who abjure it altogether may find a happiness, may attain a sancta 
simplicity*, which the most confident and successful inquirer may envy." But 
there are others called " to grapple with the problems of the time," and to 
those he chiefly sneaks. He tells them that in spite of all attacks on orthodoxy, 
all appearances that " the Church is breaking up, and Christianity dying," he 
believes that " the influence of Christianity was never so wide or commanding 
as it is now." Its " principles " are " ardently preached by the bitterest 
enemies of ecclesiastical influence." The reason or men's bitterness against 
" all Christian churches " is, that they have not " made war against abuses," 
but " preached resignation and submission to the powers that be." What the 
Church needs is "a philosophy of society." It should be " a tribune inter- 
ceding for the plebeian," an "incorruptible critic upon all social questions." 
If " any revolution break out in a Christian country, if any class remain unen- 
lightened, uneducated, barbarous, the Church should reckon it her own sin." 

" That philosophy," Mr. Seeley adds, " is not to be found in the Bible." The 
" great and universal principles are there," but " new powers have begun to 

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160 The Contemporary Review. 

work in the "world — free labour, industrial enterprise, political liberty, science, 
and these demand a new treatment." " There are two books in which the 
Christian most perpetually read, the Bible and the Time." " Charitable insti- 
tutions are but patchwork." The Church must gird herself, if she will keep 
or regain her influence, to the task of meeting evils at their source ; if need be, 
" to labour for organic change, for the abolition of bad institutions and bad 
customs." Into the wide questions which are thus opened we will not now 
enter. It is enough to have called attention to words that well deserve it 
Those who believe that the Christian Church has yet a great work to do may 
thank Mr. Seeley for indicating, from his point of view, what that work is. 

The Story of the Universities' Mission to Central Africa, &c. By the Bev. 
Henry RowiiEY. London : Saunders, Otley, & Co. 

The principal events in Bishop Mackenzie's mission are known to most 
readers. The energetic appeal of Dr. Livingstone (himself formerly an agent of 
the London Missionary Society) was heard in the old Universities of the Church 
of England ; and, after two years' preparation, three clergymen and four laymen 
(followed by others afterwards) set out from Canterbury in October, I860, as mis- 
sionaries to Central Africa. They entered the mouth of the Zambesi river in May, 
1861, and in July occupied Magomero, between Lake Shirwa and the river Shire, as 
their permanent station. The following nine months brought them disastrous 
expenenoe of war, fever, and scarcityof food ; and they lost their noble-hearted 
leader and bishop, and the Bev. D. W. Burrup. Bemoving thence to Chibisa's 
village on the ShirS in May, 1862, they maintained the struggle against the 
increasing famine, disease, and the desolating effects of intertribal wars in their 
neighbourhood. Here, on Bishop Tozer's arrival in June, 1863, he found the 
relics of Bishop Mackenzie's band ; and by him the mission was transferred to 
Zanzibar as the best means of ultimately reaching Central Africa. 

Mr. Bowley, one of the two surviving clergymen, has admirably filled up the 
familiar outline of the history of the mission. His straightforward manner of 
telling his tale— so different from the sentimental and affected style which the 
public (whether justly or not) regards as characteristic of a missionary report — 
is in itself an assurance that the comparative failure of the mission was not 
owing to any want of manly good sense, energy, and devotion in those who con- 
ducted it. So far as the mission was unsuccessful, it was so in consequence of 
imperfect organization, resulting from the imperfect knowledge possessed by its 
projectors. With a larger staff of men, there would have been no necessity for 
the clergy to take up arms to insure the safety of the heathen who came to 

them. With am adequate supply of food and medical appliances, the missionaries 
might have lived and held their position, in which they had ascertained that 
• * with a little outlay and much care, you might make the country produce enough 
for the wants of moderate men — sufficient, therefore, for the wants of the Chris- 
tian missionary."— (P. 337.) Difficulties, though great, were not overwhelming, 
if sufficient resources had been provided in England. Bishop Tozer probably 
decided rightly, that, from so distant a base of operations, sufficient means 
would not be placed at his disposal to enable him to hold his ground on the 

But if in one sense a failure, it was so noble and pure an effort— so strong a 
testimony to the vitality of Christian faith — so likely to increase a spirit of 
Christian heroism in a self-indulgent age, that it cannot be regarded as thrown 
away. Wherever Christian readers are found, they must be influenced by the 
spectacle which Mr. Rowley's book presents of a few devoted men, with their 
calm and hopeful leader, patiently enduring privation, and wisely carrying on 
their work, animated, not Dy unreasoning enthusiasm, but by sober faith. We 
had marked many passages for quotation, but we must content ourselves with 
special references to two subjects only, namely, proofs of the cruelties and 
degradation which the slave-trade to this day entails on Africa (pp. 58, 64, 157), 
and the prudent method which the missionaries used in imparting religious 
knowledge to their untaught hearers (pp. 146, 161, 170, 175, and 230). 

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TXTHAT can be more desirable, a consummation more to be hoped 
' ' and prayed for, than the union of Christendom P So we feel at 
first sight of the words ; so we feel after long pondering on them, 
and appreciating their depths and their difficulties. 

In the interest, then, of the fulfilment of these hopes and prayers, 
we would place on record some of these our ponderings. We are the 
more induced to do so, because it seems to us that many in our time 
have taken up the words without any such pondering, and are 
striving after their realization, in fact, in a manner which may 
prove rather a hindrance than a help. 

What is Christendom ? What is union P These are two pre- 
liminary questions, without some discussion of which it seems to us 
vain to expatiate on the subject. We must clearly know with what 
material it is purposed to deal, and with that material how it is pur- 
posed to deal, before we can pronounce the manipulation either 
possible or desirable. 

I. Wltat is Christendom ? Let us face the question at once. Is Chris- 
tendom the agglomeration of Episcopal Churches throughout the 
world, or do its limits extend further P The former view seems to be 
that of our friends who are professedly working for union at present. 
In their estimation the sine qud non of a Christian Church is Episcopal 
government, and Episcopal government with a traceable succession 

VOL. VII. m 

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from the ancient Catholic times. Now, if the question were asked of 
us, as Churchmen, which of all forms we, in our conscience, believe 
to be the best one and the right one, our answer would probably be 
given in these very terms. But let it be carefully observed that that 
is not the question now at issue. We suppose that the man is hardly 
to be found who would seriously maintain that a mode of Church 
government is an essential to salvation. We say, seriomhj maintain. 
For that there are those who hold it as their theory, and in argument 
inflexibly keep to the position, that all grace comes to the individual 
soul at the hands of a ministry descending in formal succession from 
the Apostles, and so from our Lord Himself, we are perfectly aware. 
But there is an immense difference between what a man inflexibly 
maintains as his theory, and that to which he is driven in his serious 
moments, when his heart is laid open, and Truth looks in on him 
with her irresistible power. 

It was once the lot of the present writer to introduce into a large 
clerical society, meeting monthly for discussion, the question, whether 
an orthodox Dissenter (using, of course, the term orthodox in its well- 
understood sense, as applied to Christian doctrine) is to be regarded 
as a member of Christ's Holy Catholic Church ? It seemed to him 
very necessary that his fellow-members should be " brought to book " 
respecting this matter. Some of them were very high Churchmen, 
and were in the habit of speaking on it as the clergy of that school 
usually do— viz., of designating as " outside the Church " all their 
Nonconformist countrymen, and all non-Episcopal, and some of the 
Episcopal, foreign religious bodies. At the same time, it was a patent 
fact that the families of some of these very men were Dissenters, and 
equally patent that when any members of those families were 
spoken of by them, it was always as Christians, as living a Christian 
life, and dying in Christian hope. 

Here then was an inconsistency which obviously wanted clearing 
up — which could only be cleared up, as it seemed to the proposer of 
the question, in one way — viz., by the abandonment of the high ex- 
clusive view in theory, as it was already abandoned in practice. The 
debate lasted far into the evening, and was adjourned to a second 
monthly meeting. At that meeting it was at last carried unanimously 
in the affirmative, that the Dissenter, holding the articles of the 
Christian faith, is to be regarded as a member of Christ's Holy 
Catholic Church. And I may mention that among those affirmative 
votes was that of one who very shortly afterwards left us for the 
Church of Rome. Magna erab Veritas, ct prceralebat. When men 
came once to look this question in the face, and to bring it to the 
test of their own consciences, — of their verdict over the holy lives and 
hopeful deaths of their friends and neighbours, — the artificial barriers 
fell, and the righteous nation which keepeth the truth entered in. 

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Hhe Union of Christendom in its Home Aspect. 163 

The only true test triumphed — that propounded for us by Our 
Master, — By their fruits (not by their hierarchies) shall ye know 

This was seventeen years ago. How such a debate might now 
terminate in, perhaps, doubtful. But any other decision than that 
at which we arrived is, I submit, impossible to the fair-judging 
Christian mind. If the term " Christendom " is to be interpreted by 
facts, and not by a theory prior to facts, it must include those bodies 
of professing Christians at home whom we call Nonconformists : it 
must also include those foreign ChuTches whose form of government 
differs from our own. 

I said, if the term is to be interpreted by facts. But many will 
say, in such a matter we have not to do with facts, but with a tra- 
ditional belief, and with laws and canons of the Church. I answer, 
that with regard to the former of these, the fact of a general tra- 
ditional belief on such a matter may appear to us a sufficient reason 
why we ourselves should, in our Church arrangements, conform to 
it. But by the very conditions which ©ur own branch of the Church 
sets forth in her Articles, no mere traditional belief, even were it up 
to a certain time universal among Christians, is to be required of 
any man as necessary to his salvation, or, which is the same thing, 
as a requisite of his membership of the Church Catholic. In order to 
constitute a belief thus necessary, it must be capable of proof out of 
Holy Scripture.; and however it may be evident as matter of fact, 
« unto all men diligently reading the Holy Scripture and ancient 
authors, that from the Apostles' time there have been these orders 
of ministers in Christ's Church, bishops, priests, and deacons,"* none 
will, we presume, be bold enough to maintain that such three forms 
are laid down in Holy Scripture as essential for the Church. So far 
is this from being the case, that the "bishops" of the later New 
Testament Epistles, have hardly anything in common with the Church 
officers which have since borne that name, but were merely pres- 
byters, as is acknowledged by the early Christian fathers. In 
Acts xx. we read that St. Paul, passing by Miletus, sent for the 
elders (presbyters) of the Church at Ephesus. In his address to them 
he admonishes them to take heed to the flock over which the Holy 
Ghost had made them bishops ; for the word " overseers " here found 
in our English version is one of those pieces of disingenuousness by 
which its text is, though rarely, yet sometimes undeniably, disfigured. 
Again, in Phil. i. 1, St. Paul addresses his Epistle to the saints at 
Philippi, " with the bishops and deacons," where Theodoret observes, 
" he calls the presbyters bishops ; for at that time they had both 
names." There is, it is true, in the pastoral Epistles — probably the 
latest, except one, of the New Testament writings — an apparently 

• Preface to the Ordination Service, Cojnmon Prayer Book. 

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closer approximation to the superintending office of our present 
bishop ; but not a word, there or anywhere, of that or any other 
particular form of Church arrangement being universally prescribed. 
If such prescription had been met with, of course it would be binding 
upon Christendom ; but now that such prescription is not met with, 
no usage of the Apostles, no subsequent practice, however widespread, 
can close up or prescribe that which Scripture has left open. It is 
very probable — tee hold it to be certain — that the safeguard of the 
individual conscience is more effectual for the good government of the 
Churches than that of the collective conscience ; but to this general 
rule there might be exceptions, and this widespread opinion might 
not be held by all. Again, the Apostles made their arrangements 
for a particular time and condition of things ; we have no right to 
say that they themselves would have enforced the same arrangements 
on other ages and in the presence of differing circumstances. Indeed 
they seem, even during the short period covered by the canonical 
Epistles, to have departed, at least in some instances, from their first 
ecclesiastical dispositions. So that we cannot concede any right to 
either the traditional belief, or the common practice of the Church 
Catholic, to enforce episcopal government as one essentially requisite. 
If any portion of the Church, in coming out of the corruptions of 
Home, or out of subsequent corruptions of faith and practice in any 
reformed communion, had reason to believe that Episcopacy in that 
particular case had stood in the way of the work of Qod's Spirit on 
mankind, it had a perfect right to abandon episcopal for presbyterian 
government : it was not thereby removed a whit farther from the 
Scripture model of a Church ; and we, however much we may differ 
from its conclusion, and deplore the step it took, have absolutely no 
right whatever to look depreciatingly on it as a branch of Christ's 
Church ; still less may we presume to unchurch and unchristianise 
its members : they are in the direct and legitimate exercise of the 
sacred rights of the Christian conscience. And let it not be cast in 
our teeth, or in theirs, that they are guilty of the sin of schism. 
Whether they are so guilty or not, is a question bearing not on them 
only, but on us Churchmen also. If, in consequence of offence given to 
them by laxity of life and morals, we drove them to seek Christian 
purity in separation from us ; if, by ignorance of the first principles 
of Christian charity, we persecuted them when we ought to have stood 
rebuked by them, then the sin of schism lay at our doors, not at 
theirs. To say that now, when they have a succession of ages and a 
traditional Church-belief of their own, they are schismatics, is a 
height of folly and pedantry, which it would be difficult to believe any 
intelligent mind to have arrived at, did we not see it far too often 

And this brings us to the second rule, with which it was supposed 

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The Union of Christendom in its Home Aspect. 165 

that in this matter we have to do, rather than with facts ; viz., the 
laws and canons of the Church. Here we are met by what tre cannot 
avoid again calling a pedantic, and at the same time a capricious, view of 
the subject. The pedantry of the view is found in this — that it insists 
on applying, to an actual conjuncture of manifest gravity, rules enacted 
with reference to a state of things having nothing in common with 
the time now present ; rules, the framers of which never contemplated 
our difficulties, — never heard the call of God's Providence which 
summons us to action. To fall back upon such rules now, by way of 
discouraging those who would serve God in their own generation, is 
to be " unwise," not " understanding what the will of the Lord is ;" 
which conduct, as we believe, is of the very essence of pedantry, and 
that of the worst kind. 

But this view of the subject-is also one admitting of any unassigned 
degree of caprice and arbitrariness. Of the particular rules which they 
who hold it press on us, by far the greater portion has become 
obsolete and impossible. The burden of them is, " let him be excom- 
municated." Why is not this done? Simply because it is impos- 
sible. Because, if it were in any one case attempted, the whole land 
would ring with indignation, and a storm would be raised which 
might bring down in ruin the outward fabric of the Church. Well 
then, if the aspect of things, and the public opinion of a Christian 
people, have thus far altered, are we to assume that the Church 
which once said, "let him be excommunicated," has learnt no 
wisdom, but remains where she was in spite of this immense change P 
What has operated the change ? What, disguise it as we will, but 
the conviction, deep as the inward sense of right — real as the daily 
grounds of thought and life — that Christianity is wider than Church 
hierarchies and canons ecclesiastical ; that the Church Catholic is 
made up, not of those bounded by a certain pale of artificial barriers, 
but of those who, in the language of a well-known definition by the 
Church herself, " profess and call themselves Christians ? " 

But, besides that the hard canonical view is both pedantic and 
capricious, it possesses a peculiar demerit of its own, from the circum- 
stances under which it is held. There can be no reasonable doubt 
that if the Church of England could be assembled in any fairly 
representative body, lawfully empowered to deal with her canons, 
the whole of this mass of illiberal rules would be ere long swept 
away. That the body which assumes to represent her is not so 
empowered, is fact of which none are ignorant. Few also can be 
ignorant, that the last thing which Convocation is likely under 
present circumstances to represent, is the collective public opinion of 
English Churchmen. That assembly is for the most part delivered 
over to the guidance of the assertors of exclusive sacerdotalism, 
ngainst whom tho general feeling of the members of the Church is 

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in open rebellion. But it is not sufficiently known that, if anything 
like the whole of the members of the Lower House thought it worth 
while to attend in their places, the minorities which now in vain 
oppose the dictation of the High Church party would be transformed 
into triumphant majorities. It is mainly owing to the apathy of the 
so-called Evangelical party, and to their want of appreciation of the 
importance, even at present, of the decisions of Convocation, that 
the priestly movement at home and in the colonies is able to cite the 
official voice of the Church of England in its favour. 

And is this a time, I would ask, to be throwing us back upon 
canonical rules more than two centuries old, and to be requiring the 
Church to stamp on herself the brand of folly, and of incapacity to 
do her duty in that state of life to which it has pleased God to 
call her?, If in this and in some other respects her position be of 
necessity a false one ; if at every step she require compromises and 
charitable interpretations to enable her to act, or even to exist at all, 
why should not those compromises be made for the benefit of her 
fellow Christians, as well as for her own P Why should not those 
charitable constructions be yielded to the love of her neighbour, 
which she is ever eager to accept for the love of herself? 

I shall assume therefore, that we are called on to deal at the 
present day, not with theories, nor with traditional beliefs as to 
Church government, but with facts as we find them. I will proceed 
then to inquire what those facts are, as far as they concern our 
present question. 

The Christianity of this our land is made up of the Church of 
England, comprising perhaps rather the larger half (?) of her 
inhabitants, and of many sects of Nonconformists. Among these 
latter, Roman Catholics are of course included, though, from their 
peculiar position, they belong to our present inquiry as a foreign 
rather than as a British denomination. Taking facts again, and not 
theory, as our index to character, Roman Catholics have really now 
become an Italian sect, inasmuch as their visible Head must always 
be an Italian, and, by the newly-proclaimed tenet of Ultramontanism, 
must rule as a temporal prince over a portion of Italy. They have, 
by this regulation and this doctrine, for all purposes of strict inquiry 
as to the limits of Christendom, receded from an oecumenical into a 
local position. Dwelling in Britain, they must always be the 
spiritual subjects of an Italian prince ; and the union of Christendom 
in its home aspect does not concern them, or concerns them only 
remotely. And even were this otherwise, there would be another 
reason why Roman Catholics cannot in such an inquiry be taken 
into consideration. With them, union implies absorption. Their 
position with reference to any accord between Churches differing in 
government would be simply antagonistic. That this is so as matter 

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The Union of Christendom in its Home Aspect. 1 67 

of practice at the present time, was clearly shewn by the correspond- 
ence between the English promoters of what is called the union of Chris- 
tendom, and the existing authorities at Rome. From these latter they 
got, as they always will get on every application for recognition, the 
cnrtest and severest answer : — " Onr arms are open to receive you ; 
nothing hinders your union with us but your own folly and obsti- 
nacy ; other way to the union of Christendom we know not. God 
bring you to a better mind :" in substance, by the way, the same 
reply as the nonjurors were favoured with from the " orthodox " 
Greek Church, when they made a similar proposal. 

For these reasons we are compelled, not by inclination of ours, but 
by unvarying action of their own, to pass over the Roman Catholics 
in our present inquiry. 

But as regards the rest, we have a very large portion of the Non- 
conforming bodies divided from us by the thinnest possible partition, 
as far as theological doctrine is concerned. The Church of England 
has long used their hymns : their printed sermons and works on 
divinity rank, in not a few cases, high in our classical theology. In 
sacred learning and biblical exposition and criticism, it may be 
questioned whether their present average attainment be not above 
our own. If we descend from the leaders to the people, none, I 
suppose, would presume, in the matter of blameless walking in the 
commandments and ordinances of the Lord, to set ourselves above 
them. As to the share which each have borne in moral and social 
improvements, I imagine all will allow that they have oftener led us 
than they have been led by us. Their united missionary efforts far 
exceed our own. In schools, in charities, in good works of every kind, 
they have been our honourable, and not seldom our successful rivals. 
Considering the amount of discouragement and disparagement which 
they have had, and still have to undergo, the progress of education 
and cultivation among Nonconformists is one of the most wonderful, 
as it is one of the most satisfactory phenomena of our time. 

In estimating then the elements of that Christendom for whose 
union we hope and pray, I submit that we have no right to refuse to 
include — we have no right to overlook — these vast bodies of Chris- 
tians who surround us at home. 

But a question here comes forward, and requires an answer. We 
have spoken of a very large number of Nonconformists whose 
doctrinal differences from ourselves are slight. But when we 
advance beyond that number we are met by the inquiry, How far 
are we to carry our inclusion P 

Now this is evidently a question not to be hastily dismissed, as it 
would be by the rigid Churchman on the one side, and the Latitudi- 
narian on the other. First of all, we must be careful to ascertain 

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what doctrine is ; and then we must also be careful how we proceed in 
laying down its limits. 

What doctrine is. For there are not a few who would be disposed 
to make Church government itself into doctrine ; there are more who 
would charge with doctrinal error those who do not hold Church 
ordinances, or who, in their view, practise them amiss. The instances 
easily occurring to all are the Baptists and the Quakers. The former 
reject Infant Baptism ; the latter reject both Baptism and the Lord's 
Supper. Now the whole practical system of the Church of England 
is based on the baptismal covenant, entered by the child, and accepted 
by the young person at confirmation. In the view of that Church, 
" regeneration " of necessity accompanies the act of baptism, and from 
the time of that act passing on any person he or she is regarded as "a 
member of Christ, the child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom 
of heaven." She also holds the other Sacrament, in which "the 
faithful verily and indeed partake of the body and blood of Christ," 
to be, like baptism, generally necessary to salvation ; and charges all 
her members to receive it three times in the year at the least. Now 
all this bears strong similarity to doctrine ; and yet none of it is doc- 
trine, in the strict sense of the word with which we are now concerned. 
We may believe, and we do believe, the Baptist and the Quaker to 
be misguided in their judgments, and to be acting inconsistently 
with the implied mind of our Lord and his Apostles, in thus setting 
aside, or in thus wrongly administering, the Christian Sacraments. 
But, notwithstanding this error in judgment, notwithstanding this 
(to us) apparent disregard of Scripture, the Baptist and the Quaker 
may hold every article in the Creeds as firmly as we do; the "one 
baptism for the remission of sins " of course receiving at the hands 
of the latter a spiritual meaning, as the texts would receive on which 
the article is founded. 

So far, I should conceive, there would — supposing the way cleared 
of preliminary objections (in toto) to all differers — be no great diffi- 
culty. The extension thus won for our definition of Christendom 
would now include all holding the co-equality of the Persons in the 
Blessed Trinity, the atonement by Christ's death and resurrection, 
and the action of the sanctifying Spirit on those who believe in Him. 

But here comes the real difficulty — the difficulty at which every 
attempt at general inclusion has found itself arrested, and has been 
compelled either to shut the door, or to incur imputations fatal to its 
acceptance by the Christian world. And the difficulty is, how to 
deal in the case of those who deny any of the articles of the faith, in 
which all hitherto in view are agreed. Of course, this notably bears 
on one body of religionists — those somewhat curiously known as 

It will be hardly necessary, after what has already been said, for 

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The Union of Christendom in its Home Aspect. 169 

the present writer to guard himself against being supposed for one 
moment to depreciate the magnitude of the contrast between the 
Catholic Christian and the denier of the Divinity of our Lord. 
Nothing less is at issue in this difference than the whole of the Chris- 
tian faith, as understood by any of those who have been hitherto in 
our view. But our present inquiry does not concern any discussion 
of this contrast. It may remain in all its incompatibility, unaltered 
in any man's view by the issue of our inquiry. That issue will be 
the affirmation or the negation of the question — Is that body of 
religionists who, in some sort holding Christ, yet overstep the 
limits of the creeds which the Church has deduced from Scripture, to 
be accounted a part of Christendom P 

It will assist us in this inquiry if we make another, simply of matter 
of fact ; and it is this : What latitude of doctrine are we allowing, at 
this moment, within the English Church herself ? Because it seems 
to me that this is the proper measure within which, at all events, we 
have no right to narrow our recognition of Christians without. That 
liberty which, in spite of articles and canons and ecclesiastical courts, 
we permit to Churchmen, we can hardly, in fairness, deny to Dis- 
senters. And, if I am not mistaken, anything like a fair reply to 
this last inquiry must be such as to cause any honest man to drop 
the stone which he had lifted to throw at the Unitarian. 

The fact seems to be this, that you cannot bound Christendom by 
a doctrinal test. You may bound certain Churches, you may limit 
certain sects, by such a test ; even then, when the power of the test 
is tried in any really doubtful case, it almost universally fails. We 
want for Christendom a fact, not a doctrine, as the test of inclusion. 
And we are thus driven back to the definition before alluded to as 
furnished us by the Church herself, when she explains " the good 
estate of the Catholic Church " to be attained by " all who profess 
and call themselves Christians, being led into the way of truth." 
Christendom is as wide as the Christian name ; as wide as the recog- 
nition of Christ as Master. Let each portion of it, as conscience dic- 
tates, defend truth and protest against error ; but no portion of it has 
right to exclude or to unchurch another. 

II. If this be Christendom, then, secondly, what is union ? The 
answer generally given is, that it is that state of mutual recognition 
which is symbolized by intercommunion — a word itself, we fancy, 
coined to serve the purpose of this union movement. But it may be 
suggested that, though intercommunion may be most desirable as a 
pledge of union, it must not be considered as the object to be aimed 
at in striving for union. For it requires both too much and too little ; 
— too much ; for there may be that in the customs of one Church 
which may be distasteful to another Church, while yet Christian 
union may be set up and maintained between them : and too little ; 

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for the rites of two Churches may be almost coincident as mere 
matter of form, while the attitude and animus of the two may be 
substantially antagonistic. It is plain that intercommunion will be 
rather an accident, than the substance, of the union of which we are 

And the same reasoning may be carried further, and extended even 
to all formal acts of recognition. If any such formal act is to be set 
up as that without which union is not, and that on which union follows 
as matter of course, we shall have made the same double mistake. A 
formal recognition may be inadmissible in cases where union may be 
easy and obvious; a formal recognition may be, from concurrent 
circumstances, easy and apparently satisfactory, and yet no true union 
may follow. 

These considerations lead up to the inference, that the union of 
which we are in search will consist not so much in outward acts, as 
in the state of feeling and temper of Christian bodies one towards 
another. It will then have begun to set in here in England, when 
all disparaging thoughts of a man in consequence of his religious 
denominational position shall have ceased ; when we shall have 
learned to treat the fact of a man's being an Independent or a Wes- 
leyan as no reason for distrusting him or shunning his company; 
when the Dissenter, on the other hand, shall have forborne railing at 
us by reason of the apparent ground of vantage which we possess in 
being the Established Church of the nation, and shall surcease from 
his endeavours to misrepresent and subvert us. 

To expect such a time to arrive, may be thought somewhat chi- 
merical. But it may not be altogether profitless to have indicated 
at least a desire for its arrival. At all events, this paper will 
serve as a protest, in the name of the Christian spirit, and the spirit 
of fair dealing, against the present attempts at formal union with 
Churches abroad, while the Christian bodies at home are left entirely 
out of the question. 

It may be asked, whether it would be possible or desirable to aim at 
marking the union of Christendom at home by any outward symbol ? 
As we said before, we would not have such symbol to be considered 
as of the essence of the union itself. It would merely be a sign of 
its existence, tending to carry its reality to the hearts and the senses 
of those who partook in it. 

There can, we think, be very little doubt that any who are pre- 
pared to sympathize with what has been said would regard such a 
symbolical act as desirable. The profession of good feeling, even if 
genuine, needs some outward occasion on which it may be reduced 
to a great and tangible fact; and the habit of kind words and 
charitable thoughts requires stimulus to prevent it from falling into 
a mere habit. 

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The JJnum of Christendom in its Home Aspect. 171 

If then an outward symbolic act would be desirable, have 
we any reason to think that such an act would be possible ? It 
is obvious that we must not look for an answer to this inquiry 
in the direction of that which is commonly known as wfer-communion. 
For we should thus at once come face to face with difficulties arising 
out of the constitutions and liturgical biases of the various Churches ; 
and a concession, by way of compromise, would have to be made, — a 
necessity which we wish to avoid. 

But, though tnfer-communion may be out of the question, might 
not the highest of Christian ordinances be so administered, by the 
abstention of each body from the use of its own liturgical forms, as 
to include all who interpret the command of our Lord as the institu- 
tion of an ordinance at all ? Suppose, at all events, that the com- 
memorative portion of that ordinance were shared by an assembly 
-of various denominations of Christians, — the only words heard being 
the Scripture narrative of its institution, and then bread and wine 
being administered in silence. 

Of course such a proposition would meet with no favour from — nay, 
would probably strike with horror — those who believe the virtue of 
the sacrament of the Lord's Supper to consist in the liturgical form, 
or, in other words, in the priestly consecration of the elements. 
But, seeing that such a belief would probably be commensurate 
with the view of the constitution of the Church which is held by the 
opponents of the whole spirit of this paper, it would introduce no 
new element of opposition, and requires therefore no special notice, 
except it be to say, that any such view of the efficacy of the Holy 
Communion is totally unsupported by Scripture, and that, conse- 
quently, even should we hold it ourselves, we have no right to 
require it to be held by another. 

So that, even supposing this to be our view, we might yet find 
a way to the symbolical act of union. It would be this : that each 
body, or as many as thought good, might use such previous liturgical 
service as they might think fit, and that the administration might 
take place at one time and spot, each, or again, as many as thought 
fit, using the words belonging to their own liturgical form. 

Either of these, or some other method which might easily be 
devised, would serve to unite those whose hearts were already pre- 
disposed, in a symbolical act of union. It was the fortune of the 
present writer to witness such an act of union performed in two 
different ways at Berlin, in 1857. The first time, exactly as described 
above, in silence, and with no words but the reading of the institu- 
tion by our Lord : the second time, by administration to the members 
of each Church in the words used by each Church, without, however, 
any previous act of consecration. It then appeared to him that the 
former method was by far the more effectual as a symbol of union. 

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172 The Contemporary Revtew. 

The abstention of all from even the forms which they dearly 
valued, and their meeting on the common ground of the solemn 
narrative of Holy Writ, seemed to carry with it the reality of their 
serious and incompatible differences, and the reality also of the One 
Word of truth to which all appealed ; seemed to utter at the same 
time a confession of the fallibility of the Churches, and the infalli- 
bility of God's Word. It might be worth considering, whether the 
recitation of the Apostles' Creed, or, if thought better, of some 
declaration of belief made in the words of Scripture itself, might not 
form part of the act of union. 

It would be matter of further inquiry, whether under any, and if 
so, then under what circumstances, the pulpits of one Christian body 
should be opened to teachers of another. It is obvious that such 
liberty, though it may seem a legitimate corollary from what has 
gone before, would require the most jealous guarding and watching. 
It must be strictly confined to its exceptional character, and never 
allowed to become customary, nor of course in any case to extend 
beyond exhortation from the pulpit. In the Church of England, the 
morning sermon is so strictly bound into the Liturgy, as to form part 
of the Communion office. For this reason, even were the above- 
mentioned license given, the morning should be exempted, and reserved 
without exception for her own ordained ministers. It will arise to 
every mind, but is necessary to be stated, as supplementary to any 
such proposal, that for every case, as it arises, special license, pro hdc 
rice, should be required from the bishop of the diocese, with whom 
it would rest to obtain such satisfactory proofs of soundness in doc- 
trine, and such undertaking to respect the differences between the 
Churches, as he might think necessary or expedient.* Probably any 
such admission might be found in practice undesirable. But it may not 
be amiss to have at least indicated a desire that it should be in some 
cases given. I have read Nonconformist sermons, which have begotten 
in me the wish that they could have been delivered to our congre- 
gations, and could have served both to stimulate our somewhat languid 
preaching, and to set us an example of earnest, and at the same time 
careful thought. The practice would not be altogether a new one, 
even in our own times. I have understood that Mr. Venn and Mr. 
Simeon were in the habit of preaching in the pulpits of the Established 
Church of Scotland ; and the present writer knows of two occasions 
on which the offer of the parish pulpit in Scotland has been made to, 
though it was not accepted by, a minister of the Church of England. 

But it may be well to conclude with an indication of a course 
already and easily practicable. The manifestation of private social 

* It will be of course understood, but may be stated for fear of mistake, that incom- 
patibility of doctrine, as in the case of the Unitarian, would of necessity prove a ban to 

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The Union of Christendom in its Home Aspect. 173 

sympathy is in every one's power. It is in every one's power also, 
to lay aside all those disparaging epithets and insinuations which un- 
fortunately are now so plentifully cast about in the discourse of Church- 
men with reference to Dissenters. It is also in every one's power to 
banish denominational jealousies in commercial dealings. Of course 
those of the clergy who do these acts of Christian justice, or any of 
them, must make up their minds to incur the bitterest obloquy at 
the hands of the exclusive High Church party. The agents and the 
journals of that, as of every other extreme party, are perfectly un- 
scrupulous, and will not hesitate to call in question their Churchman- 
ship and their soundness in the faith. There is nothing in the eyes 
of that party more unpardonable than the following out, with regard 
to non-episcopal Christian communities, of the principles of the 
Church of England. They are well aware how entirely they them- 
selves are in opposition to those principles. They know that the 
Church of England has again and again, by her Convocations, 
accorded to those bodies the name of Churches ; and that the best 
and most approved of her writers have declared Episcopacy to be 
not essential to the being of a Church.* Knowing these things, and 
keeping them in the background, they trust to being able to bluster 
down those who are more consistent Churchmen than themselves. 

But it is at length, we believe, beginning to be felt, that bluster is 
not proof ; and that the advocates of common fairness, and of Christian 
charity, ought to be granted a hearing. In this belief we have ven- 
tured to put together the foregoing remarks. It seemed to us that, 
while to the superficial observer the Church of England is casting off 
her moorings, and drifting back to Romanism, there is in the hearts 
of the great mass of her children the earnest wish to make her faster 
than ever to the Rock which has for three centuries held her safe. 
We Churchmen yearn, as much as any can, for the union of Christen- 
dom ; but we will not seek it by reaching out the hand to distant 
Churches, while we are fostering disunion at home. When we can 
say to them, " Look once more at the sects into which you charge us 
with being split; behold them, while maintaining the differences 
incident to freedom of thought, cemented together by the unity of 
the Spirit of our common Master ;" — when we can challenge them 
to witness our success in having reconciled the rights of conscience 
with the mind that was in Christ, — then also we may say to them, 
" Unite with us, be followers of us." Then, it may be, some of them 
on their side may be given to reply, " We will go with them, for God 
is with them of a truth." 

Henry Alford. 

* Some of the most remarkable of these testimonies may be found cited in the telling 
and authoritative reply of the Archbishop of Armagh to Archdeacon Denison, inserted 
in the Guardian of January 1, 1868. 

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The Journal of the Society of Arte, 1867—8. 
The Food of the People, &c. By Joseph Rroww,".MJ). London, 1865* 
On Food. By Edwin Lankxster, MJ)., F.R.S. London, 1861. 
Sixth Report of the Medical Officer of the Privy Council. With. 

Appendix. London, 1868. 
Report of the Method* employed in the River Plate for curing meat 

for European market*. Presented to Parliament by command 

of Her Majesty, 1866. 

THE traditional John Bull is a well-fed animal. From the days- 
of Gilray to our contemporary Punch, his typical representative 
is a stout, well-to-do farmer or grazier. And if this be meant to- 
denote that many classes of the community have enough and to spare,, 
it is no doubt so far true. But if we suppose that there are not large 
masses of the people habitually and thoroughly under-fed, we make 
a great mistake. Long suspected, this fact has of late years been 
demonstrated by searching inquiry, and can no longer be questioned. 
In the year 1863, the Lords of the Privy Council, acting under 
the powers which they possess as guardians of the public health, 
directed a medical inquiry into the food of the poorer labouring 
classes, and the result appears in one of those Blue Books in which 
Mr. Simon, their medical officer, annually makes his report to their 
lordships on the subject of health and disease. And here we pause 
for a moment, just to say that these Blue Books (now extending over 
nine years) ought to be better known than they are. They contain 
a great mass of information, in a fairly readable form, on many topics 
which closely affect the national welfare, and which are, or ought 
to be, attractive to all who take an intelligent interest in the well- 

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The Food of the People. 175 

being of the people at large. Coming from high authority, they 
place the reader, so to speak, at the fountain-head of knowledge on 
many social questions about which very ignorant and mistaken 
notions are apt to prevail. It might not be amiss to endeavour to 
introduce some sketch of their leading contents in a popular form 
to general readers. 

But we must return at present to our immediate subject. Mr- 
Simon, in summing up the result of the inquiry to which we have 
referred, takes a certain standard (derived from experience obtained 
during the cotton famine) as the minimum by which " starvation- 
diseases " can be averted. This standard is, that an average woman's 
daily food ought to contain at least 3,900 grains of carbon ;- with 
180 grains of nitrogen, and an average man's daily food at least 
4,300 grains of carbon, with 200 grains of nitrogen.* He then 
gives a table representing the actual weekly consumption of food 
by various classes of in-door operatives, into whose circumstances, 
examination was actually made, viz., silk-weavers, needlewomen* 
kid-glovers, shoemakers, and stocking-weavers, the result of which 
is, that " in only one of the examined classes " (the shoemakers) 
"did the average nitrogen supply just exceed, while in another 9y 
(the stocking-weavers) " it nearly reached, the estimated standard 
of bare sufficiency, and that in two classes there was defect — in 
one a very large defect — of both nitrogen and carbon." Our readers- 
will hear with regret, though probably not with surprise, that the 
most poorly- fed class of all were the needlewomen. 

Pursuing the like inquiries in rural districts, Mr. Simon tells 

us that — 

"As regards the examined families of the agricultural population, it ap- 
peared that more than a fifth were with less than the estimated sufficiency of 
carbonaceous food, that more than one-third were with less than the esti- 
mated sufficiency of nitrogenous food, and that in three counties (Berkshire, 
Oxfordshire, and Somersetshire) insufficiency of nitrogenous food was the 
average local diet." 

The same authority reminds us that as food is the first neoessary 
of life, a spare diet tells a tale of many other privations. Clothings 
and fuel will be scanty ; dwelling space will have been stinted to the 
degree of overcrowding ; household furniture will have been parted 
with ; and a thousand other sufferings will have been endured, in order 
to find the means of keeping body and soul together by the purchase 
of nourishment. On the whole, he says, " There must, I feel assured, 
be much direct causation of ill-health, and the associated causes of 
disease must be greatly strengthened by it in their hurtfulnes8. ,, 

* For such of our readers as have no previous acquaintance with the subject, it may 
be well to mention that carbon is the material whence animal heat is derived, and that 
nitrogen supplies the flesh-forming substance, both being essential to life. 

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176 The Contemporary Review. 

Other medical men have written yet more strongly. Dr. Brown, 
of Sunderland, in a work on " The Food of the People," speaks of the 
result of his own medical experience among the poor as showing 
" the diminishing power of Englishwomen to suckle their offspring;" 
and in treating of the unhealthiness of constitution which results 
from under-feeding, he says, " It is transmissible from sire to son, 
and is the great instrument in producing that deterioration of a 
race which is the concomitant and cause of the decay of states." — 
(p. 10.) Not only a great mortality at early ages, but softened and 
yielding bones, distorted spines, and feeble limbs in those who survive, 
are enumerated by this author as the consequence of deficient nourish- 
ment. The seed (he says) is thereby sown of tubercles in the lungs 
— the deadly foe of youth in this climate, or of swollen glands in 
the neck and abdomen. Well, therefore, may Dr. Lankester say, 
in his lectures " On Food," " The question of food lies at the founda- 
tion of all other questions. There is no mind, no work, no health, 
no life, without food; and just as we are fed defectively or im- 
properly are our frames developed in a way unfitted to secure that 
greatest of earthly blessings — a sound mind in a sound body." 

These things speak for themselves. No one can help feeling that 
their voice is a very serious one. Moved by these considerations, 
the Society of Arts, at the close of the year 1866, appointed a 
Committee — 

" To inquire and report respecting the food of the people, especially, but 
not exclusively, the working classes of the people ; and that, having regard 
to the publications of the Privy Council and 'other documents, which illus- 
trate the defective amount of nutritious food available for the population at 
large, the said Committee do report respecting the resources which are, or 
might be rendered, available for the production, importation, and preservation 
of substances suitable for food, and for improving the methods of cooking in 
use among the working classes. 11 

Over this Committee the Right Hon. H. A. Bruce, M.P., was chosen 
to preside ; and several members of Parliament, and other gentlemen 
of influence, consented to join it, and to take part in its labours. 
It entered upon its work early in 1867, and its proceedings were from 
time to time published in the Journal of the Society during last 
spring. When the session of the Society of Arts was about to close 
at the end of the season, the Committee presented a Report, stating 
the amount of progress which they had made, and asking leave to 
sit again. They were accordingly re-appointed by the Council of the 
Society, and have resumed their inquiries with much vigour. 

For the purpose of this paper, we shall draw our materials partly 
from the first Report of the Committee, partly from the published 
evidence which they have taken and partly from other sources. 

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J he Food of the People. lyy 

It is of course obvious, from the terms of the resolution under 
which the Committee were appointed, that many lines were open 
to them, and that many subjects required to be considered. In point 
of fact, they have entered more or less on several of the points which 
that resolution mentions.* To follow their steps in all these directions 
would extend this paper to too great a length, and would, moreover, 
tend to make it too multifarious. We propose, therefore, at the 
present moment to confine ourselves to one subject — that of increasing 
the supply of nutritious food in this country. No sooner did this 
subject come before the Committee than they instinctively looked to 
the vast herds of South America and Australia. Was it possible in 
this nineteenth century, with all its scientific discoveries, and all its 
ingenuity in turning them to practical use, that on the shores of the 
river La Plata, and in the prairies of our own Australian colonies, 
there should be untold herds of wild cattle slaughtered simply for 
hides and tallow, while here in England a labouring population was 
in want of animal food ? 

The paradox seems startling enough ; yet it must be confessed that 
the problem of bringing the flesh of these roving herds to fill English 
mouths has not hitherto been clearly or indisputably solved. Indi- 
cations there are, and not a few, that some way is making towards 
the solution of it. Public attention is being more and more directed 
to it ; commercial enterprise begins to see that there is a prospect of 
success and profit in that field ; scientific men are addressing them- 
selves to overcome the physical impediments ; and, on the whole, it 
may fairly be hoped that we are on the eve of a great success. Our 
present endeavour will be to bring our readers up to the actual 
position of affairs at this moment, in order that they may follow with 
greater intelligence any subsequent discoveries or improvements. 

We shall not need to say much of " charqu£," or jerked beef. It 
is a very rough preparation of salted meat, not likely to be extensively 
used by any class of consumers among ourselves, though it is the 
staple food of the negroes in South America. It can be imported 
thence easily enough, but it is worth little when we have got it. A 
better article is offered by Mr. Morgan's process. This consists in 
forcibly injecting the arterial system of the animal through the heart, 
immediately after death, with brine ; and the effect appears to be to 
produce a fair quality of meat, well preserved by the saline fluid. 
A good deal of this beef has arrived in this country. After all, how- 
ever, it is salted meat, not fresh ; and on this ground it cannot be 
admitted as a complete solution of our difficulties. 

We pass on, therefore, to Liebig's Extractum Carnis. By this the 

* As, for instance, the supply of milk and its adulterations — the adulteration of other 
kinds of food—the existing distribution of food— the market question, &c. 

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178 The Contemporary Review. 

meat is not preserved whole, but reduced to a kind of essence. The 
method employed is to tear the carcass to pulp by means of iron 
rollers, and then to throw this pulp into a Tat with water, where it is 
allowed to steam for an hour. It is then passed into a reservoir, from 
which the liquid of the meat is permitted to ooze into another vessel ; 
the fat is carefully taken off, and the pure gravy subsequently put 
into open vats supplied with steam-pipes, and with bellows on the 
surface, which help evaporation ; finally, it is filtered and drawn off. 
We all know that this, and the almost identical preparation made in 
Australia by Messrs. Tooth, are now largely imported into and sold 
in this country in small pots, containing a reddish, partially-hardened 
substance. But it appears clear, upon the whole, that they cannot, 
either of them, be relied on as an article of constant diet. 

The chemical components of the flesh of animals used for food are 
very various ; but the most important nutritious principle— that 
which goes to build up the muscles of the man who lives on it, the 
albumen or fibrin — is insoluble in hot water, and is, in consequence, 
left behind by all such processes as those of Liebig. Many consti- 
tuents that have their use are, no doubt, contained in the Extractum 
Carnis, which closely resembles beef-tea ; but then, beef-tea, though 
suitable for a sick person, whose nervous power is low, and for whom 
it is requisite to supply a stimulant, without tasking the digestion or 
loading the system, gives very little nourishment. In other words, 
it does not contain the great materials for repairing the waste that is 
hourly going on in the human frame, and for making new tissue. 
To a certain extent this deficiency might be supplied by the use of 
peas, beans, and other vegetables containing a large amount of albu- 
men ; but this presupposes that such vegetables are easily attainable, 
and can be well and thoroughly cooked. And at best the substitute 
thus obtained will be but a make -shift, for a larger quantity must 
be eaten, and what is eaten will not be so easily digested and 
assimilated.* While, therefore, something may here and there be 
accomplished in this way in soup-kitchens, &c, the great superiority 
of the form in which albumen is present in the flesh of animals to 
that in which it is found in vegetable structures, renders it impossible 
so to deal with the Extractum Carnis as to make it a general food for 
the people at large. Its uses will be more for hospitals and the sick 
generally, and for soups for those who are not obliged to make soup 
their whole diet, but take solid meat besides. 

But it may be asked, Is there no plan by which the albumen can 

be preserved in the making of concentrated meats ? We answer 

that this can certainly be done, and is done in Dr. HassalTs Flour of 

Meat, and in other like preparations. But we escape one difficulty 

• See evidence of Dr. Thudichum, 80c. Arts Jour., March S, 1867. 

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The Food of the People. 179 

only to fall into another. We have now got the nutritious principle, 
but we have lost the incorruptibility of the substance prepared ; for 
it is the albumen which tends so rapidly to decay in animal bodies 
after death. Do without the albumen, and you get an extracium 
which will keep admirably, but is of small value for nutrition ; re- 
tain the albumen, and you have a preparation highly nutritious, but 
which cannot be preserved for any great length of time except under 
favourable circumstances, and by a considerable amount of care. Thus 
far, then, we have not solved the problem before us of bringing the 
meat of South America and Australia to England. 

A plan of an entirely different kind has been suggested by Pro- 
fessor Redwood. His patent contemplates the preservation of the 
meat as it is (the bone only being removed) by immersing it in 
melted paraffin. This concentrates the juices of the meat and expels 
the air, and an external coating of paraffin being added, the process 
is complete. This plan, however, has not hitherto proved very suc- 
cessful. The great heat used appears to dry up the meat, and make 
it less palatable and less nutritious. 

Another method has been proposed by Messrs. Paris and Sloper, 
who seek to preserve meat in air-tight cases, by filling the cases with 
a gas which retards decomposition, and which would appear to be 
binoxide of nitrogen. A certain amount of success has apparently 
attended this scheme ; but it has not been carried out on any large 
scale, and the extreme nicety of the operation would render it difficult 
to practise without occasional failure. 

A simpler, or at all events a better understood, procedure, and one 
which has already found some degree of favour in the English market, 
is that of the Australian Meat Company, whose London agent is Mr. 
M'Call, of Houndsditch. The process followed by this company does 
not materially differ from that which has been long in use for making 
preserved meats. The meat, which is free from bone, is placed in a tin, 
and the tin set in a bath of chloride of calcium, which boils at a very 
high temperature. The steam thus generated from the meat expels the 
air, and the tin being suddenly and hermetically closed, the meat is 
kept in a vacuum. The sign that this has been satisfactorily accom- 
plished usually is, that a slight depression is observable in the ends of 
the tin, the effect of the pressure of the external atmosphere. Upon 
being opened, the meat is found to be fresh and good, and none the 
worse for its voyage from Australia. The heat which has been 
applied to it has had the effect of cooking it, and it nearly resembles 
stewed beef — unsalted of course. It may be eaten, therefore, at 
once cold, or it may be made warm and served up with vegetables, 
&c. The defect is that it looks and tastes as if somewhat overdone. 
Professor Taylor, in his evidence on the subject, when he favoured 

N 2 

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180 The Contemporary Review. 

the Committee of the Society of Arts with his attendance, suggested 
that though a very high degree of heat was necessary in order 
thoroughly to expel the air, yet that it was not needful to continue 
this high temperature for any lengthened time. He thought that 
by shortening the period of extreme heat, the meat would be less 
overdone, more palatable, and more nutritious. He also objected to 
the quantity of fat sent over in the tins, which tended to make the 
use of the meat less economical than it would otherwise be.* These 
observations were communicated to Mr. M'Call, and a fresh con- 
signment has recently arrived from Australia, in which Professor 
Taylor's advice appears to some extent to have been followed, to the 
improvement of the meat. In their Report, the Committee speak of 
this as " the only plan by which they have as yet found that un- 
salted meat in a solid eatable condition has been largely imported." 

It must be observed, however, that even if larger experience should 
conclusively prove the method in question to be practicable and 
useful, there is another element of the subject which must not be 
disregarded. Good preserving will keep meat good, but it will not 
make it good. The animal when killed must be in good condition, or 
the flesh will not be eatable either when put into the tin, or when 
taken out of it. This is a material consideration. On the shores of the 
river La Plata the vast herds roam at large over the prairies, and, 
when the time for slaughtering comes, are driven in by horsemen, 
after an exciting chase, many miles to the spot where they are to be 
killed. The result is not only that the beast has never been fattened 
or in any way prepared for being used as food, but that it is killed 
in a fevered state, which renders its flesh unwholesome. If there is 
to be any attempt to send meat from South America, both these 
evils will have to be corrected. Stock-farming must be taken up 
with zeal and diligence, and the animals so fed as to be fit for the 
table; and when killed, it must be under proper circumstances, and 
not in hot blood, f In Australia they manage these matters some- 
what better, but even there it is probable that more attention will 
have to be paid to breeding and fattening cattle, if we are to have 
preserved beef sent home in really prime condition. 

We have not yet exhausted the list of schemes proposed. Pro- 
fessor Gamgee has a method which is thus described : — The animals 
are killed by inhaling carbonic oxide, bled as usual, and then placed 
in air-tight cases with charcoal charged with sulphurous acid. After 
a time the cases are exhausted, and then filled with carbonic oxide. 
Finally, the carcasses are removed and hung up to dry, and will, it is 
said, keep for many weeks. On this the Committee declined to 

• It is offered for sale in 6-lb. tins at 7d. per. lb. without any bone. 
t Xo English butcher would ever kiU cattle " off the drift," as it is termed. They 
# must rest for twenty-four hours or so after being driven in before they are slaughtered. 

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The Food of the People. • 1 81 

express a positive opinion, though they witnessed some experiments 
and went into the subject with care. They thought " further and 
more lengthened trials would be desirable." 

Since last summer, when the Committee presented their report, 
several new schemes have been brought forward: of these, though 
no judgment has yet been passed upon them, it is on many accounts 
desirable to say something. 

One of these is brought forward by Dr. Medlock, who treats the 
meat to be preserved with bisulphite of lime. If a single joint is 
in question, it suffices to steep it in the solution ; if a whole carcass 
is under treatment, it should be injected with the bisulphite in the 
same manner as brine is injected in Morgan's process, described in 
the early part of this paper. The efficient agent is sulphurous acid 
gas, and the bisulphite of lime is merely used as being a convenient 
way of applying it. It is positively stated that no unpleasant taste 
is perceptible in the food so treated, while the extent to which 
decomposition is arrested is very remarkable. Dr. Medlock told the 
Committee that some turkeys and joints of lamb prepared with this 
process were sent to him from Canada during very hot weather, 
and though they were six weeks in coming, they arrived sweet and 
good. And many cases are said to have occurred in which London 
butchers have been able to keep beef and mutton in sultry weather 
by means of the bisulphite, when it must otherwise have become 
uneatable. Whether this method would effectually preserve meat 
during its transit from South America or Australia cannot, of course, 
be positively determined until the experiment has been actually 
made. But on the smalt scale in which it has been tried, the results 
have certainly been favourable. 

The Society of Arts is at this moment conducting some very care- 
ful experiments in order to test the value of Dr. Medlock's plan, 
but sufficient time has not yet elapsed to justify their pronouncing 
any definite opinion.* 

Another scheme, which, though the latest in the field, demands, 
and will assuredly receive, careful investigation, is that of " the 
New South Wales Ice Company." It consists in the application of 

* In case our readers like to make a trial for themselves, we subjoin Dr. Medlock's 
recipe: — 

"Take a £ea-cupful of ' Medlock and Bailey's Patent Bisulphite of Lime Solution/ 
a dessert-spoonful of common salt, and about a quart of cold water, mixing the same 
in a basin. Dip the meat in this mixture for a few minutes, taking care with the end 
of a cloth to wet it all over ; then hang the joint up as usual. A dip night and morn- 
ing will ensure its keeping sweet for any length of time. If the weather is unusually 
hot, a cloth soaked in the same solution may be wrapped round it with advantage. 
When required for cooking, lay it in cold water for a few minutes, and then dry it 
thoroughly with a cloth." 

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1 82 The Contemporary Review. 

intense cold, so that the meat is preserved by being frozen. The 
principle on which this scheme relies is, that when certain gases have 
been forced to pass into a liquid state by the application of great 
pressure, and are then allowed to reassume their gaseous form, they 
absorb in so doing a vast amount of heat. A cylindrical vessel con- 
taining the meat is placed within another larger cylinder, so that 
there is a space between them. Into this space the liquefied gas 
(which, in this case, is ammonia) is introduced, and is then permitted 
suddenly to return to the gaseous condition, thus carrying off iim 
heat, and producing intense cold around and in the vessel in which 
the meat lies. The machinery used is not very complicated, and it is 
intended that the ships which bring us the Australian meat shall be 
supplied with it. By this means the meat will be continually kept as 
cold as may be desirable, even in passing through the tropics. So 
far as experiments have been already made in Australia, success is 
reported to have attended them. The Sydney Herald of September 
last says that — 

" Meat preserved in a perfectly fresh and uncooked state for months has 
been partaken of at the table of the Governor, at the clubs, and in many 
private houses, and in all instances thus preserved has met with unqualified 
approval. It is, moreover, a remarkable fact that meat thus kept frozen 
neither loses flavour nor becomes putrescent immediately upon its thawing, 
as does meat preserved in ice, or frozen in the open air. On the contrary, 
it has been found that meat thus preserved, when suddenly released from 
the refrigerating influence to which it has been subjected, will keep as long 
as when obtained fresh from the butcher. 1 ' 

Our readers now know most of what has been doing with a view 
to render it feasible to supply our own dearth of animal food by 
importation from distant countries. That something must be done, 
if possible, is clear, if we are to maintain our national health and 
strength at a high pitch : that something mil be done is highly pro- 
bable, when we consider the talent which is devoted to the subject 
both here and abroad, and the direct pecuniary advantage which 
will wait upon success. We may be allowed to add the hope that 
the blessing of Providence will crown attempts which will have for 
their result the benefit of so large a number of our poorer country- 

We might now go a step further, and give some account of the 
inquiries made by the Committee into the subject of fish as a partial 
substitute for meat. This, however, would deserve a paper to itself. 
It would embrace the singular undertaking which is going forward 
in the mud of Hayling Island for breeding and multiplying oysters, 
in order to replenish our ancient oyster-beds, which have become 
impoverished. It would enter also into the question of employing 
improved means of deep-sea fishing — such as stronger gear and 

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The Food of the People. 1 83 

larger vessels, propelled perhaps by steam, and able to keep the sea 
in all weathers, and thus to render the take of fish less irregular than 
at present, and the price consequently cheaper and more uniform. 
And in connection herewith we should have to say something of a 
suggestion made by the Royal Fishery Commissioners! and warmly 
endorsed by the Society of Arts, in favour of a Fishery Exhibition^ 
such as has taken place at the Hague, at Vienna, at Arcachon, and 
Boulogne, and elsewhere abroad. Such an exhibition would com- 
prise more than one aquarium for sea and river fish, models of boats, 
nets, lines, and all appliances for fishing, together with some repre- 
sentations of the dresses, habits, &c, of fishermen in different 
countries. It might probably be made very attractive to the public 
at large, and would have the effect of directing attention to the sub- 
ject, and increasing the inclination of capitalists to invest their 
funds in fishing enterprises. It is possible that it might do some- 
thing towards removing the mist of uncertainty and perplexity 
which seems so provokingly to hang over a tempting field — the 
resuscitation and improvement of the Irish fisheries. Into all this, 
however, we have no space now left to enter. We must turn to one 
more point, which is of general interest, and then conclude. 

Bread is the staff of life. Can we increase this all-important 
support of mankind P 

It is said that there is room to do so, and that, too, without the 
addition of a single grain of wheat to our present supply. The 
answer to this apparent riddle is, that we may get more bread out of 
our wheat than we have hitherto done. M. Meige Mouri^s, of Paris, 
has discovered a plan which is actually in work at the Boulangerie 
Scipion in that city, whereby a part of the grain usually employed 
as food for animals seems convertible to the use of mankind. Ad- 
hering to the principle on which we have proceeded throughout in this 
paper, of giving a simple and popular view of the subject, and not 
entering into technical or scientific details, we shall shortly state 
that a grain of wheat, when opened and examined by the microscope, 
consists of an internal white mass, which is surrounded first by two 
layers, one outside of the other, and then by the three external 
skins which together constitute the husk. These three outermost skins 
are of the same character as the straw, and have no nutritious value. 
Hitherto white bread seems to have been made from the central 
granules alone, or mixed with the material of the layer immediately 
surrounding them. The second layer has always gone with the 
three outer skins, under the name of bran, and has either been given 
to animals, or used for making brown bread, for which latter pur- 
pose the whole grain, including the husk, is employed. It was 
always known that the layer so put aside with the husk contained a 

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large portion of nitrogenous substance, and therefore of the elements 
of nutrition ; in this respect, indeed, it decidedly excels the central 
part of the grain. But it was not found possible to use it without 
the result being to produce what in colour, taste, and properties 
was essentially brown bread. It is now stated that this was 
chiefly owing to the feet that the layer in question is in contact 
with a membrane containing a substance called " cerealine," which 
gives rise to a special fermentation during the process of baking, 
and produces the characteristics of brown bread. By an ingenious 
mode of sifting, combined with ventilation, the particles of this 
membrane in the ground corn are winnowed out, and the whole of 
what we have called the second or outer of the two internal layers 
becomes available for the bread. The loaves into which it enters 
have, it is admitted, a slightly yellowish tinge as compared with 
the best white flour, but for all essential purposes they are white, 
not brown bread. The layer in question is estimated by M. Meige 
Mouries as 22 per cent, of the whole, the inner portion of the grain 
being called 70 per cent., and the useless husk 8 per cent. So large 
a saving, therefore, as 22 per cent, in the grain is surely well worth 
looking after ; and when we remember that the layer in question is 
singularly rich in nitrogen, we ought perhaps to estimate the result 
for the purpose of nutrition somewhat more highly still. What is 
now required is that this process should be made generally known 
in this country, and that if possible our own millers should be 
induced to give it a practical trial.* 

Our object in the foregoing pages has been to make known to 
general readers the broad outlines of a topic in which all right- 
minded men must feel some interest. To do something towards 
enabling public opinion to take up the question is of itself to make 
a step towards its happy solution. We have studiously avoided 
details ; those who desire them can readily consult the Journal of 
tfie Society of Arts, where they stand recorded at length. They 
would only have deterred those readers whose attention we have 
been seeking to obtain. The matter in hand, indeed, has no direct 
political or theological interest. It cannot yield an election cry, 
nor turn into a party watchword. Fenianism, trades' unions, 
Abyssinia, the Irish Church, ritualism, the results of the Reform 
Bill, these may in turn elbow from men's minds so tame a subject 
as the food of the people. But we would respectfully suggest, even 
to the most ardent of politicians, that men must live before they can 
debate ; that to be able to argue, they must eat. 

Benjamin Shaw. 

• For a more exact account of it, see Journal of the Society of Arts, January 3rd, 1868, 
p. 104. 

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FOR the last two hundred years the name of Thomas Hobbes has 
been a name of terror to the religious world. Sceptic, deist, 
atheist, infidel, monster, are the epithets that have been generally 
bestowed upon him. "When a man familiar with Hobbes* evil 
reputation comes for the first time to his works, there is a feeling 
of. perplexity and wonder how one who has so clearly and fully 
enunciated his faith in God and the Christian revelation should 
ever have been accused of unbelief in any form. Not only is Hobbes 
a professed believer in Christianity, but in the most orthodox form 
of it, — an upholder of the royal supremacy, an Episcopalian of the 
most unblemished type, a Christian who received the mysteries of the 
faith as matters of faith, in no way within the province of reason ; 
one who, if in any sense he can be called a rationalist or a free- 
thinker, certainly arrived at conclusions entirely opposed both to 
rationalism and free-thinking. 

The first solution which offers itself is the supposition that Hobbes, 
did not write sincerely — that under pretence of defending revelation 
he took every opportunity of raising doubts concerning it. This 
supposition is untenable. "We do not know what any man believed 
if we do not know what Thomas Hobbes believed. If we doubt his 
sincerity, we may as well doubt the sincerity of any man who ever 
professed to be a Christian. Hobbes may be extravagant or 

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1 86 Ihe Contemporary Review. 

eccentric ; lie may even be irreconcilable with himself, or what i» 
more probable, not always understood ; but there is no reason for 
supposing him insincere. It is strange, indeed, that Hobbes should 
ever have been misunderstood. No writer is so careful of definition,, 
and no author of that century has been so much praised for the 
elegance, vigour, and clearness of his language. There is, besides, 
in Hobbes a completeness of system. All his ideas depend on each 
other. His mathematics fit into his physics, his physics into his 
politics, his politics into his religion. Isolated, his sentences are 
startling, and sometimes contradictory, but taken in their proper 
relations they can all generally be reduced to one connected whole. 

Were we to begin at the beginning, we should start with an 
account of Hobbes* doctrine of motion, to which he traced the 
origin of all life and existence. It will, however, suit our purpose 
better to go at once to his politics, for his religious doctrines are 
inseparably connected with his theory of civil government. Though 
he starts as a physical inquirer, and ends as an expounder of 
Christianity, his political creed is the centre around which all 
gathers — the pillar on which all rests. Hobbes lived in the age of 
experimentalists. He was contemporary with Bacon. Galileo had 
just discovered that the earth moves ; Harvey that the blood circu- 
lates. The attention of all philosophers was turned to the external 
world. Hobbes also lived in an age of strifes. The people had 
executed the sovereign. A great part of these strifes were about 
religion. The bishops were driven from their sees, the clergy from 
their parishes. Those in power were divided into a multitude of 
sects — some of them wild and fanatical. To Hobbes, everything in 
Church and State was in confusion. He would teach a doctrine 
that was to cure all these evils, to restore order to the kingdom, and 
bring all sects to uniformity of religion. Among the new sciences* 
he claimed to be the founder of Civil Philosophy. He first embodied 
his doctrines in"De Cive ; or, The Philosophical Elements of a 
True Citizen ;" afterwards in a more matured form in the great work 
with which his name is always associated, " Leviathan, or the Matter* 
Form, and Power of a Commonwealth, Ecclesiastical and Civil." 

The " Leviathan " was published in 1651. It consisted of four 
parts: — Of Man, Of a Commomccalth, Of a Christian Cotnmomcealth y 
Of the Kingdom of Darkness. Man by nature is regarded as a savage. 
His desires are to preserve himself and injure his neighbour. He 
lives in a state of war. Every man being equal to every other man, 
and all having an equal right to everything, the possession depends 
on the power of getting it. This view of human nature was very 
dark. In its relations and consequences it shocked even the most 
determined believers in the total depravity of the human race. But 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. i 87 

Hobbes derived his doctrine from actual observation. The men by 
whom he was surrounded were distrustful of each other. Anarchy, 
as he judged, had gained the ascendency. In the civil wars men 
had returned to the state of nature. Hobbes saw them as children 
of wrath, hateful and hating each other. There was wanted a power 
to hinder them from injuring each other; a power both to teach 
what is right, and to compel the performance of it. This power is 
the Commonwealth, represented by the "Leviathan," to which no 
power on earth can be compared. It restrains the natural passions 
of men, and of warlike savages it makes peaceable and benevolent 
citizens. It is " the mortal god to whom, under the immortal God, 
we owe our protection and safety." 

This description already anticipates the reverence and submission 
that are due to the Commonwealth. The sovereign has absolute 
authority. He is God's vicar on earth. The doctrine of the Divine 
right of kings was in high favour with the followers of the Stuarts. 
Hobbes was sincerely attached to the royal cause. The Puritans, who 
expelled the reigning family, may have been lovers of order and 
government as well as the Royalists ; and perhaps, with their apparent 
anarchy, better friends to a genuine commonwealth ; but they had 
to fight for justice with bold words and sharp swords. Hobbes, who 
was by nature a coward, would have had them yield implicit obedience 
to the lawful sovereign, the representative of order, and, as he said, 
the divinely-appointed ruler. The sovereign being to the people in 
the place of God, must be absolute. He cannot injure his subjects, 
for his acts are their acts. He cannot act unjustly towards them, 
for they hold their property conjointly with him. It belongs to the 
king as well as to them. His laws constitute just and unjust. The 
people cannot change the form of government. As the sovereign 
cannot break faith with them, his royal power cannot be forfeited ; 
nor can he be punished by his subjects. He is to make peace and 
war, to choose his own councillors, to decree what opinions and doc- 
trines are to be taught,* and to be the judge of all controversies. From 
the historical fact that Hobbes took the side of the Royalists, it has 
been generally concluded that he said all these things about the 
sovereign power to show the enormities of those who had executed 
the king and usurped the government. This is more than probably 
true ; yet Hobbes' earliest adversaries were the Royalists, and his last 
and best friends are the liberal politicians of the present day.* In 
extravagant expression of his political creed he outdid the first, and 
yet they instinctively hated him. So far as words go, he has con- 

* The complete works of Hobbes were reprinted by Sir William Molesworth at the 
suggestion of Mr. Grote. There is a very able article on Hobbes in the Westminster 
Review for April, 1867. 

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1 88 The Contemporary Review. 

demned without an atom of reservation all that is dear to the last; 
and yet they revere his memory as that of one who helped forward 
the cause of human progress, and did something for the science of 
right government. No one has yet tried to explain this singular fact 
But do we not find the explanation in what has been already said, 
that Hobbes, taken in isolated parts or passages, is not the same as 
Hobbes in his entire system P His Commonwealth was the assertion 
of principles wider and deeper than the vindication of the Stuarts. 
It was the assertion of the divinity of order, of the majesty of law, 
of the necessity that kings should rule in equity, and that subjects 
should obey righteous governors. It would be easy to quote many 
passages from the "Leviathan" which seem to oppose this interpreta- 
tion, but there are many things that confirm it. The Commonwealth 
of which Hobbes discussed was avowedly ideal. It had nowhere been 
realized. The perfection was to be reached after many efforts and 
failures. To use his own illustration, it was not at once that men 
learned to build houses that would last as long as the materials ; but 
after long experience they did succeed, and so would it be with the 
perfect Commonwealth. That Hobbes is not a mere Royalist, but a 
teacher of order, seems to be clear from what ho says of the gene- 
ration of the "Leviathan." The sovereign power may come by 
acquisition, but it may also come by institution ; indeed, this is its 
more legitimate form. Men constitute themselves into a common- 
wealth for their mutual benefit ; so that those who before were wolves 
to each other become gods to each other. They unite for protection 
and defence. For the sake of this common good they surrender their 
individual wills, and deny themselves liberties which they had in the 
state of nature. They commit the government of themselves to the 
Commonwealth, and in virtue of the united strength given up by 
individuals, the " Leviathan " becomes the terror of their adversaries. 
This power is personated, but not necessarily, by a monarch either 
hereditary or chosen. There are several kinds of commonwealths. 
The sovereign power may be lodged in one person, in which case 
we have a monarchy. It may be committed to some chosen leaders, 
then we have an aristocracy ; or it may be retained by a popular 
assembly, and this is called government by democracy. 

But the sovereign ruler is not only absolute in things temporal ; 
the same jurisdiction extends to things spiritual. It is his duty to 
prescribe the religion of his subjects, to determine what books of 
Scripture are to be held canonical, and what is the meaning of these 
books. The Commonwealth and the Church of the nation are co- 
extensive. They are so connected as sometimes to seem identical. The 
authority of the Church is derived from the State. The bishops indeed 
say, in the beginning of their mandates, by "Divine Providence," 

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Thomas Hobbes of Maimesbury. 189 

which is the same as by "the grace of God;" and " thus deny to 
have received their authority from the civil State, and slily slip off 
the collar of their civil subjection, contrary to the unity and defence 
of the common wealth." Hobbes, however, finds it difficult to adjust 
between the authority of the civil ruler and that of the Church, and 
especially as he traces the origin of ecclesiastical power to the Apostles. 
It had descended from them by imposition of hands to all who had 
been properly ordained. He says, in one place, that the prince must 
leave the mysteries of the faith to be interpreted by the clergy ; and 
he admits that in the primitive Church the people had liberty to 
interpret the Scriptures for themselves. There were pastors from 
the beginning, but their interpretations had no authority till either 
" kings were pastors, or pastors kings." In another place he puts 
the civil ruler midway between the clergy and the laity : " without 
the ministerial priesthood, and yet not so merely laic as not to have 
sacerdotal jurisdiction." But Hobbes is most consistent with his 
own doctrine, though not with himself, when he teaches that " the 
king may baptize, preach, and consecrate, and do all other offices 
without the laying on of hands." The king, he says, is king by the 
grace of God; but the bishop is bishop only by the grace of the king. 

For the Presbyterians, Quakers, and other sectaries of the seven- 
teenth century, who spoke about worshipping God according to their 
conscience, and not according to the forms of the State religion, 
Hobbes had ready the never-failing case of Korah, Dathan, and 
Abiram. They rebelled against Moses, their civil ruler, and if the 
sectaries followed their example, what could they expect but to 
"perish in the gainsaying of CoreP" Unfortunately, St. Peter had 
said something about obeying God rather than man. This, for Hobbes, 
was an awkward passage. He had no great reverence for martyrs, 
and was not likely to have become one himself for anything that he 
believed. He thinks that no one in this country would condemn 
Mahometans compelled to deny Mahomet and worship in a Christian 
church. A denial of Christ might be prejudicial to the Church. 
Yet a man may hold the faith of Christ in his heart, though he does 
not profess it before men whom he knows will put him to death for 
the profession. If we are compelled to worship God by an image, 
though we may reckon image worship dishonourable to the Divine 
Being, yet we are to obey. An image, indeed, limits the Infinite, 
but the responsibility rests with the ruler, and not with us. This 
doctrine, however, has another side. It is possible that the sovereign 
may command his subjects to blaspheme God, or to abstain from 
Divine worship. In either case Hobbes declares at once that it is 
not their duty to obey. And even as to idol- worship obedience is 
only due to the sovereign so long as we have no other authority than 

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the dictates of reason, for the will of the sovereign power stands to 
us for reason. But since, both in the old and new covenants, wor- 
ship by images is expressly forbidden, we are free to disobey the 
Commonwealth when it commands what is contrary to the expressed 
Word of God. An unlearned man in the power of an idolatrous 
king may worship an idol, and " he doeth well, though in his heart 
he detests the idol ; yet, if he has the fortitude to suffer death rather 
than worship it, he doeth better." Yet Hobbes adds, " If he be a 
pastor, who, as Christ's messenger, has undertaken to teach Christ's 
doctrine to all nations, should he do the same, it were not only a 
sinful scandal in respect of other men's consciences, but a perfidious 
forsaking of his charge/' In another place he makes it part of our 
civil duty to know what are the laws and commandments of God, 
that we may know when to give obedience to the civil authority, and 
when to the Divine Majesty. It was a vice in Hobbes' theory not to 
have made the sovereign infallible. It is admitted that though he 
cannot sin against his subjects, yet he can sin against God. He may 
ordain what is contrary to eternal equity, or to the revealed will of 
God. We must, however, obey the sovereign so long as it is possible. 
We must sacrifice many things for the sake of national uniformity. 
The Catholic, the Lutheran, the Calvinist, in fact all parties, should 
merge their peculiarities for the sake of order ; yet there are limits. 
We are not to give up the great essentials necessary to salvation. 
These, however, are reduced to the minimum ; in fact, to this single 
article — the belief that Jesus is the Christ 

The fourth part of " Leviathan " concerns the Kingdom of Darkness. 
This is the kingdom of Satan, from which the Church is not yet 
entirely free. The enemy still sows tares. We err by not under- 
standing the Scriptures, and by following the heathen doctrines con- 
cerning demons, which are only idols or phantasies of the brain. But 
the greatest perversion of Scripture is that which makes the kingdom 
of God to be the Christian Church which now is. And consequent 
on this is the claim of the Pope, or some ecclesiastical assemblies, to 
be God's representatives in this kingdom — an office which is given 
only to civil sovereigns. And so the Pope claims that Christian 
kings must receive their crowns from him, and that if they do not 
purge the kingdom of heresy they may be deprived at his pleasure. 
From this, too, arises the error of supposing that the pastors are 
olergy, maintained, like the tribe of Levi, out of the revenues by 
Divine appointment ; and this error of supposing that they have a 
supernatural office makes them confound consecration with conjuration, 
bo that they pretend to convert bread and wine into the body and 
blood of a man — yea, of a God ; while by charms and incantations 
over children they profess to exorcise evil spirits, as if infants were 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. \q\ 

demoniacs. Of the ceremonies and dogmas of the Church of Rome 
Hobbes finds the original and counterpart in the demonology and 
vain philosophy of the Pagan world. But the foundation of all is 
the confounding of the visible Church with the kingdom of God. 
Here the Bishop of Rome, under pretence of successor to St. Peter, 
rules over his kingdom of darkness, which Hobbes compares to the 
kingdom of the fairies — that is, the old wives' fables in England 
concerning ghosts and spirits, and the feats they perform in the 
night. The Papacy is the ghost of the deceased Roman empire 
sitting crowned upon its grave. Its language is the ghost of the old 
Roman language. The ghostly fathers walk like the fairies in 
obscurity of doctrine, in monasteries, churches, and churchyards. 
They have cathedrals, where they practise their spells and exorcisms 
like the fairies in their enchanted castles. They take from young 
men the use of reason by certain charms, compounded of metaphy- 
sics, and miracles, and traditions, and abused Scripture, just as the 
fairies take young children out of their cradles and change them into 
natural fools or elves, fit only for mischief. When the fairies are 
displeased with anybody they send the elves to pinch them ; so do the 
ecclesiastics pinch princes by preaching sedition. Several parallels of 
this kind Hobbes draws between the Papacy and the kingdom of the 
fairies. The last is that, like the kingdom of the fairies, the spiritual 
power of the Pope has no existence but in the fancies of ignorant people. 

"It was not therefore," he says, " a very difficult matter for Henry VIII. 
by his exorcisms, nor for Queen Elizabeth by hers, to cast them out. But 
who knows that this spirit of Rome — now gone out, and walking by mis- 
sions through the dry places of China, Japan, and the Indies, that yield him 
little fruit — may not return, or rather an assembly of spirits worse than he, 
enter and inhabit this clean-swept house, and make the end thereof worse 
than the beginning ? For it is not the Roman clergy only that pretend the 
kingdom of God to be of this world, and thereby to have a power therein, dis- 
tinct from that of tJie civil State." 

We have already alluded to Hobbes* general agreement with what 
is considered orthodox theology. In stating the grounds of the Chris- 
tian faith he gives full validity to the evidence from miracles and 
prophecy. He* maintains the necessity of supernatural evidence for 
some things which he says are beyond the reach of reason ; as, that 
Jesus is the Christ, that the soul is immortal, that there are rewards 
and punishments after this life. Not content with this, he declares 
the incapacity of reason to judge concerning the attributes of God. 
He believed, with the strictest of the Puritans, that God had only 
elected to eternal life a small number of the human race, and that 
the rest were reprobate. To an objector he answered that it was 
rash to speak of what consisted or did not consist with the Divine 

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192 The Contemporary Review. 

justice. God's right to reign over men is not derived from His having 
created them, but from His omnipotent power. He afflicts men, not 
merely because they sin, but because He wills to do it. Job's friends 
connected his sufferings with his secret sins, but God refutes them by 
showing that He is the Almighty Ruler of the universe, asking, 
" Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth ? " He 
made sometimes a sharp distinction between reason and faith, entirely 
excluding the first. The mysteries of religion were to be received with 
a blind faith. To use his own too expressive illustration, they should 
be taken without examination, as a man takes bitter but tcJiolesome pills. 
This passage is certainly the most offensive of all that Hobbes has 
written. Professor Maurice says there is no doubt " latent irony" in 
it. If there is, it must be very latent There is nothing in the con- 
nection to lead to the supposition that Hobbes did not mean what he 
said. Mr. Maurice also objects to Hobbes' orthodox doctrine con- 
cerning faith, which is, that we believe a prophet speaks in the name 
of God simply because he says so, and thus our faith is really faith in 
men. " If," says Mr. Maurice, " our readers dissent from these last 
conclusions as much as we do, we are' bound to say that they are not 
more the conclusions of Hobbes than those of his contemporary, 
Bishop Pearson, whom English divines are taught not only to revere 
for his piety and learning, but to accept as their theological guide." 

Notwithstanding Hobbes' denunciation of philosophy, and the 
sharp distinction which he made between reason and faith, he pro- 
nounces reason to be the undoubted word of God — a talent which the 
Master has put into our hands till his coming again, and which we 
are not to fold up in the napkin of implicit faith. That our reason is 
to be exercised in matters belonging to religion he thinks evident 
from the command of Jesus to search the Scriptures. The appeal is 
made to our reason, which in itself inplies that we have the capacity 
to understand and interpret the sacred books. There are, indeed, 
many things in the Scriptures above our reason, but none contrary to 
it. In one place, Hobbes excludes the worship of God from those 
things which are to be known by reason ; but in another place he 
says that God declares his laws three ways : by the dictates of natural 
reason, by revelation, by tlie voice of some man to whom 'He has given the 
power to work miracles. Hence, a threefold word of God, rational, 
sensible, and prophetic, corresponding to right reason, supernatural 
sense, and faith. Revelation, he evidently takes in Lord Herbert's 
sense — what fe revealed immediately to oneself. But as this super- 
natural revelation is exceptional, the kingdom of God therefore con- 
sists mainly of the natural and the prophetic — what we know by 
reason and what we know from the Scriptures. The Bible is the 
word of God as well as right reason, for God speaks to us in the sacred 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 193 

books. We do not know that they are the word, but all true Chris- 
tians believe they are, and the ground of this belief is the authority 
of the Commonwealth or Church. The sovereign power has determined 
which are the canonical books. Hobbes devotes a chapter of the 
"Leviathan" to the Holy Scriptures, which is interesting as one of 
the first English essays on the criticism of the Bible. He brings 
forward the usual arguments from " the five books of Moses " to show 
that they were not written by Moses. He reckons that the Book of 
Joshua was not written till long after the time of Joshua ; the Books 
of Judges, Ruth, Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, not till long after 
the Captivity. The writers of the New Testament lived all in less 
than an age after Christ's ascension, and had all seen Christ, and 
been His disciples, excepting only St. Paul and St. Luke. Some 
time had passed before the books were collected into one volume, and 
recommended to us by the governors of the Church as the writings of 
the persons whose names they bear. The great doctors of the Church 
did not scruple at such frauds as tended to make the people more 
pious, yet there is great reason to believe that they did not 
corrupt the Bible. Hobbes' view of inspiration might pass for 
orthodox, if it implied infallibility, which, however, it does not. 
" All Scripture is given by inspiration of God," he calls an evident 
metaphor to signify that " God inclined the spirit or mind of the 
writers to write that which should be useful in teaching, reproving, 
correcting, and instructing men in the way of righteous living." 
The holy men of old who were moved by the Holy Spirit had super- 
natural revelations. A prophet was a prolocutor^— one who speaks 
from God to man. Prophecy was a temporary employment from 
God, most frequently of good men, but sometimes also of the wicked. 
It was necessary to use natural reason to discern the true from the 
false prophets. In the Old Testament his doctrine was required 
to be conformable to what was taught by Moses, the sovereign 
prophet ; in the New, it was to be accompanied with the confession 
that Jesus is the Christ The truth of any prophet's utterance was 
always to be determined by the ruler of the people ; that is, God's 
vicegerent on earth. Corresponding to these views of inspiration 
and prophecy, Hobbes said that when a man has wisdom and under- 
standing or affections for what is good, he has God's Spirit within 
him. If the affections are evil, there is the presence of a bad spirit ; 
those who are thus possessed are called demoniacs. 

The doctrine of miracles taught in the "Leviathan," without 
being unorthodox, in some respects anticipates modern criticism. 
A miracle is a sign, a wonder, a strange work. When we know the 
cause, or when a wonderful work becomes familiar to us, it ceases to 
be a miracle. The ignorant take many things for supernatural, 

VOL. VII. o 

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194 %%* Contemporary Review. 

such as eclipses of the sun and moon. Yet there are genuine 
miracles, immediate works of God, besides or beyond the ordinary 
operations in the world of nature as known to us. These miracles 
God works for an end ; that is, for the " benefit of His elect" They 
are not intended to convince the unbelieving, such as Pharaoh, or the 
men of Galilee, in whose presence Jesus would not work miracles. 
Their object was to add to the Church such as should be saved — such 
as God had elected to eternal life. Miracles made manifest to them 
the mercy of an extraordinary ministry for their salvation. Hobbes' 
doctrine of the Trinity is the most startling of his theological 
heresies. Person he explains by its original meaning as one who 
acts a part. God, who is always one and the same, was first repre- 
sented by Moses, then by His incarnate Son, and last of all by the 
Apostles. As represented by the Apostles, the Holy Spirit .by which 
they spoke is God; as represented by His Son, who is God and 
man, the Son is that God ; as represented by Moses and the High 
Priests, the Father — that is to say, the Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ — is that God. Hobbes afterwards recalled this illustration 
of the Trinity, explaining that he only meant to show to such scoffers 
as Lucian how God, who was one, could also be three persons. The 
explanation of the Atonement is more than usually rational. Man 
had sinned, and was liable to a penalty. God was pleased to accept a 
ransom, not however as a satisfaction for sin equivalent to the offence. 
In the Old Testament He gave pardon on the condition of offering 
sacrifices of bulls and goats. Under the new dispensation, the sacri- 
fice of Christ has redeemed us ; " not that the death of one man, 
though without sin, could satisfy for the offence of all men in the 
matter of justice, but in the mercy of God, who has ordained such 
sacrifices for sin as He is pleased to accept/' 

But in Hobbes' rationalism the most strange of all is his dis- 
belief of an endless punishment of the wicked. After he has denied 
that we are judges of what ia just with God, after he has maintained 
that God's right over us is His omnipotence alone, and that He has 
determined, irrespective of our wills and characters, who are to be 
saved and who are not to be saved, yet on the ground of its incon- 
sistency with the mercy of God, he denies that the sufferings of the 
wicked can be never-ending. Eternal they may be in the sense of 
sufferings in the eternal world ; but though the fire be unquenchable 
and the torments everlasting, yet it cannot be inferred from Scripture 
that the persons cast into the torments shall suffer eternally. On the 
contrary, death and the grave shall be cast into the lake of fire, 
which is the second death. There will be a final restitution, and no 
more going to hades or the grave. 

He had explained angels as images in the imagination, which sig- 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 195 

nified the presence of God in the execution of a supernatural work. 
On the same principle he explains that Satan, the Devil, and Abad- 
don do not set forth any individual person. They are not proper 
names, but appellations, and ought not to have been left untranslated, 
as they are in the Latin and modern Bibles. What is said in the 
Scriptures concerning Hell is metaphor. It is called Hades, or the 
place where men cannot 6ee — infernos, or under ground. The simple 
idea of the dark grave became, indefinitely, a bottomless pit. As 
the giants of the old world were destroyed by the deluge, hell is 
called the congregation of the giants. Job says, "The giants groan 
under water ; " and Isaiah, concerning the King of Babylon, " Hell 
is troubled to meet thee, and will displace the giants for thee." In 
allusion to the destruction of the cities of the plain, it is called the 
lake of fire. The Egyptians were in darkness when the children of 
Israel had light in their dwellings : hence the outer darkness without 
the habitation of God's elect. Near Jerusalem was the valley of the 
children of Hinnom, a part of which was called Tophet, where the 
old Pagans sacrificed their children to Moloch, and where the Jews 
carried the " filth and garbage " of Jerusalem to be burnt with fire. 
From thence they called the place of the damned Gehenna, or the 
Valley of Hinnom, the word now usually translated hell. Hobbes 
thinks that after the Resurrection, the real place for the punishment 
of God's enemies will be on this earth. 

Salvation is deliverance from sin, which is all one with deliverance 
from misery. It is to be secured absolutely against all evils, in- 
cluding want, sickness, and death. The kingdom of God does not 
exist now. This is but the regeneration, or preparation for the coming 
of the Son of Man. When He comes He shall be King over all the 
earth, the true Lawgiver, the eternal Sovereign who shall give light 
and peace and joy to His people for ever and ever. We need no. 
ascent to another region of the universe to realize the felicity of the 
redeemed. The tabernacle of God shall be with men. The ~Nqw 
Jerusalem, with its glorious temple, shall come down from God out 
of heaven. Christ shall reign with his saints. There shall be a new 
heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. The dreams, 
as we often say, of the millenarian were sound reasoning to the 
sober intellect of Thomas Hobbes. 

Hobbes hung dead weights to the wings of reason, but he laid no 
restraint on his own. He was willing to submit to the State, or to 
retract what he had written, but not till he had completed the cycle 
of human thought. Had he kept within the limits he prescribed 
for others, he would never have been classed with deists and un- 
believers. After admitting that in many things Hobbes is 
undoubtedly orthodox, the " Leviathan " is still a great world of 


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rational theology, by which we mean theology founded on reason. 
It is said at one time Hobbes lived in close relations with Lord 
Herbert. The men were certainly very different. There could 
have been but little in common between them. Herbert was a 
Parliament man; Hobbes a Royalist. Herbert was an d priori 
philosopher ; Hobbes was essentially d posteriori. He hated meta- 
physics as he hated ghosts, devils, and darkness.* But in some 
things he agreed with Herbert. He repeats that the main differ- 
ence between man and the beasts is the capacity of the former for 
religion. Like Herbert, he draws up articles of natural theology, 
and like him he gives a secondary place to that knowledge of 
religion which we have on the authority of another person. That 
there is a God he holds to be an inevitable result of the exercise 
of reason. 

" Curiosity," he says, "or love of the knowledge of causes, draws on 
man from the consideration of the effect to seek the cause, and again the 
cause of that cause, till of necessity he must come to this thought at last, 
that there is some cause whereof there is no former cause, but is eternal ; 
which is it men call God. So that it is impossible to make any profound 
inquiry into natural causes without being inclined thereby to believe there 
is one God eternal, though they cannot have any idea of Him in their mind 
answerable to His nature. For as a man that is born blind, hearing men 
talk of warming themselves by the fire, and being brought to warm himself 
by the same, may easily conceive and assure himself that there is somewhat 
which men call fire, and is the cause of the heat he feels, but cannot imagine 
what it is like, nor have an idea of it in his mind, such as they have that 
see it ; so also by the visible things in the world, and their admirable order, 
a man may conceive there is a cause of them, which men call God, yet not 
have any idea or image of Him in his mind." 

One of the chapters in the " Leviathan " is on the Kingdom of the 
God of Nature. In this Hobbes describes the worship of God taught 
us by the light of nature. We must attribute to God existence. We 
must speak of Him as the cause of the world, not as identical with 
it. The world being caused, cannot be eternal. We must regard 
Him as caring for us and loving us. We must not say that He is 
finite ; that He has form ; or that we have an image of Him in our 
minds. We must not ascribe parts to Him, nor limit Him by place. 
We must not say He moves, or that He rests, nor ascribe to Him 
passions — as repentance, anger, mercy. We should speak of Him as 
the Infinite, the Eternal, the Incomprehensible. There is but one 

• Hobbes had a great terror of being in the dark. He ascribes his natural timidity 
to the circumstance of his mother being frightened by the rumour of the Spanish 
Armada. " She gave birth," he says, " to twins, myself and fear." Bishop Atterbury, 
in a passage in his sermon on " The Terrors of Conscience," a passage by no means credit- 
able to the bishop, represents Hobbes* natural timidity as his conscience troubling him 
for his religious principles. 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 197 

name to signify our conception of his nature, and that is, I AM. We 
should pray to Him, and offer thanksgiving. We should always 
speak worthily of Him, and above all things keep His laws, for this is 
the greatest worship of all. 

In denying God passions and affections, Hobbes annihilates that 
personality which, from the limitations of our minds, we are necessi- 
tated, in a greater or less degree, to ascribe to the Divine Being. 
He maintained that we could have no idea of God. By this he 
meant image. All our mental images are of things finite. God is 
being infinite, which is the contrary, or the negative, of the finite. 
God, as we conceive Him, does not exist. It is better to acknowledge 
Him to be incomprehensible than to attempt to define His nature. 
Following this principle, Hobbes objected to all the terms by which 
we try to express our thoughts concerning God, and the world 
which lies beyond the sensuous or finite. "Incorporeal spirit," 
" immaterial* substance," " eternal now," and all such phrases, he 
pronounced meaningless. For the same reason he ought to have 
rejected infinite, immortal, eternal, and many other terms with which 
he could not so easily dispense. However, he was entitled to use 
words according to his own definitions so long as he made him- 
self intelligible. But if God is not spirit incorporeal, nor substanc§ 
immaterial, He is the opposite of these, which is corporeal body 
or material substance. In other words, God is body, or matter, or 
substance, taking these three terms as synonymous ; nor does Hobbes 
shrink from this conclusion. He reasons that God must be corporeal, 
for "whatsoever is not body is nothing. The universe consists 
of body and accidents, but in accidents there is no reality." The 
corporeal is the only real existence. Spirit is body under another 
form — "thin, fluid, transparent, invisible." God is a most pure, 
most simple, " corporeal spirit." It was objected that in this Hobbes 
identified God and the universe. The inference was denied, on the 
ground that God was the cause of the universe. 

Hobbes only intended to be a physical investigator, but he could 
not use his reason in the material world without danger of its 
trespassing on the domain of the spiritual. Every effort to confine 
the human mind to the phenomenal has been a failure, and every 
such effort must be a failure to the end of time. Hobbes set aside 
the Greek philosophers with a sneer. For the Schoolmen he had 
not even that. Their phraseology he pronounced as unintelligible 
as the subjects of which they discoursed were incomprehensible ; and 
yet he is compelled to treat of the same" subjects, and sometimes 
to adopt the terms which he pronounces meaningless. Honestly, 
if unconsciously, he followed where reason led him. He was con- 
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198 The Contemporary Review. 

his opponents, that if he had read as many books as some people, he 
would have been as stupid as they were. He fell back on the 
resources of his own mind, and reached conclusions which seemed 
original. It does not appear to have occurred to him, nor to any 
of those who replied to him, that in teaching this doctrine of the 
consubstantiality of mind and matter, body and spirit, he was simply 
reviving the theology of the ancient Stoics. The identity of body 
and spirit, the division of the all of being into God and the universe, 
was but an enunciation of the one substance of Spinoza, the nature 
producing and nature produced. Hobbes reached his conclusion by 
the same vigorous and independent reasoning as Spinoza did. 
Indeed, it is the only conclusion to which reason can legitimately 
come — the only conclusion to which any philosophy worthy of the 
name has come. We may distinguish between the Stoics, ihe 
Flatonists, the Eleatics, the Ionics, and the Italics; but on the 
great question of being, which was primarily the subject of all their 
speculations, the difference is one of words — a question of the mean- 
ing of matter ', substance, idea, essence, corporeal spirit, and spiritual body. 
It is scarcely surprising that the " Leviathan " should have created 
a sensation on its first appearance. Among the wonderful books 
written in the seventeenth century it was certainly one of the deepest 
and oddest. Hobbes may not have had many followers — that is, not 
many who agreed with all he said — but he had many readers, and 
many who admired even when they did not follow. Among these 
was Cowley, the poet, who wrote : — 

" Vast bodies of philosophy 
I oft have seen and read, 
But all are "bodies dead, 
Or bodies by art fashioned. 
I never yet the living soul could see 
But in thy books and thee. 
'Tis only God can know 
Whether the fair ideal thou dost show 
Agree entirely with his own or no. 

This I dare boldly tell, 
'Tis so like truth 'twill serve our turn as well ; 
Just as in nature thy proportions be 
As full of concord their variety. 
As firm their parts upon their centre rest, 
And all so solid as that they at least, 
As much as nature, emptiness detest/' ; . 

But Hobbes had opponents as well as admirers. The " Leviathan," 
says Bishop Warburton, made the philosopher of Malmesbnry " the 
terror of that age." It would require a long list to mention even 
the names of those who undertook to destroy the monster. Among 
them we find one earl, two archbishops, five bishops, several masters 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 1 99 

and fellows of colleges, a Boyle lecturer, many doctors of divinity, 
and country parsons without number. " I will put a hook into his 
nose, and cast an angle into his jaws/' cried one of the last, with the 
bravery characteristic of his class when about to slay a monster of 
heresy. The earl was Edward Hyde, the loyal and faithful, but 
unfortunate Clarendon. He wrote from his exile " A Survey of the 
1 Leviathan/ " which he dedicated to the worthless Charles. In his 
dedication he assures the king of his unshaken fidelity, and his 
"abhorrence of the false and evil doctrine of Mr. Hobbes, that a banished 
subject during his banishment is not a subject" The " Survey " had for 
a frontispiece Andromeda chained to the rock, with the sea monster 
about to devour her. Perseus, appearing on his winged Pegasus, 
with a Gorgon's head in one hand and a javelin in the other, destroys 
the monster, and liberates the virgin. So Clarendon, the destroyer 
of monsters, harpoons the " Leviathan," that religion, like a stately 
goddess, might walk in beauty freed from fetters and from fears. 
Clarendon was ready to admit that there were many good things well 
said in Hobbes' book. He recommended disregarding the definitions, 
which are really essential to understanding what the author means ; 
bat he said truly that Hobbes " did not so much consider the nature 
of a definition, as that he may insert somewhat into it, to which he 
may resort to prove somewhat, which men do not think of when they 
read the definitions." He protested against Hobbes' dark view of 
human nature, and the more rationalistic of his religious doctrines. 
He maintained his own orthodoxy by approving the mode of receiving 
the mysteries of faith illustrated by the pills. He charges Hobbes 
with ignorance of the English monarchy and its history ; with a 
misapprehension of the nature of laws, as well as of the actual laws 
of this realm. It is only on this subject that Clarendon's opinion is 
worth knowing, for law was his profession. The chief interest 
attaching to the " Survey " is the repeated charge that Hobbes was 
furthering the interests of Cromwell.* The passages which Clarendon 

* Clarendon seems to hare been the inventor of this. Bishop Burnet calls the 
" Leviathan " " a very wicked book with a strange title/' and says that Hobbes 
" wrote it at first in favour of absolute monarchy, but turned it afterwards to gratify 
the republican party. These were his true principles, though he had disguised them for 
deceiving unwary readers." Dr. Whewell says that the face of the figure in the frontis- 
piece of the " Leviathan " has a manifest reference to Cromwell, but in a copy belonging 
to Trinity College library the face appears to be intended for Charles I. A gentleman 
connected with Trinity College wrote last month as follows : — " I have before me the two 
editions of the * Leviathan,' with date 1651. The frontispiece of the one is surmounted 
by a handsome face resembling, though not strikingly, the portraits of Charles L The 
other face has the same crown, but is broader and coarser featured, like Cromwell, but 
not strikingly so — about as like his portrait by Cooper, as the former is like Charles by 
Vandyke. But the faces are in different types, the former high featured and what may 
be called Norman, the latter flattened, with broad nostrils, and more of the bourgeois 

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200 The Contemporary Review. 

quotes in proof of this are very obscure, if this was their object. 
Cromwell must have had keen eyes to see, in whatHobbes said of the 
right of the sovereign to name his successor, an intimation that he 
should arrange for the succession of his son Richard. He might 
have found himself described in a later work " as the single tyrant 
who occupied England, Scotland, and Ireland, and turned to mockery 
the democratic wisdom as well of their laymen as of their ecclesiastics." 
He might have read that in the civil war, "not bishops only, but 
king, law, religion, honesty, having been cast down, — perfidy, 
murder, all the foulest wickedness (covered, however, with hypocrisy), 
held sway in the land." Indeed, Hobbes never misses an opportunity 
of denouncing all that was done in England in the days of Cromwell. 
In the " Behemoth " the Parliament men are pictured as traitors, 
rebels, fanatics, and hypocrites; and yet Clarendon could see in 
Hobbes a concealed enemy of the Church and the king. 

One of the earliest works of Thomas Tenison, afterwards Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, was called "The Creed of Mr. Hobbes 
examined in a feigned Conference between him and a Student in 
Divinity." Tenison had just been presented by the Duke of Man- 
chester to the rectory of Holywell, St. Ives, Hunts. This little book, 
dedicated to his patron, was the first-fruits of his leisure. It is 
perhaps the most sensible reply that was made to Hobbes. It gave 
ample evidence that Tenison was worthy of the duke's patronage, 
and fair promise that one day he might be a bishop. Tenison had 
the same advantage over Hobbes in philosophy that Clarendon had 
over him in law. He was well read in Plato and the Greek philo- 
sophers. Whether or not they meant by " incorporeal spirit " what 
Hobbes meant by " corporeal spirit " may be an open question, but that 
they did speak of incorporeal existences, and attach a definite meaning 
to the term, is not to be disputed. Tenison showed that if Hobbes 
had been at all acquainted with the Platonic use of the word idea, he 
would never have confounded it with image. It is " an argument of 
a thickness of mind " to say that we have no conception without an 
image. " Plato has contended for a knowledge soaring above the ken 
of fancy, and has taught us that the greatest and most glorious 
objects have no image attending on their conception. And Clemens 
Alexandrinus told the Gentiles that the Christians had not any sensible 
image of sensible matter in their Divine worship, but that they had 
an intelligent idea of the only sovereign God." Tenison, not seeing 
that the doctrine of the Stoics concerning substance could be reconciled 
with that of the Platonists, urged against Hobbes that if God was 

or Saxon type. The Cromwell plate is much brighter and more distinct than the 
supposed Charles plate ; it has many more lines in the principal and in the accessory 
figures, and might, I think, be a re-touch of the former." 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 201 

corporeal, then He would be identical with the world, and so the 
world might be worshipped as God. And he repeated the worn-out 
jests from St. Augustine and Peter Bayle, that such men as Cain and 
Pharaoh, Herod and Judas, " not to say Mr. Hobbes himself/' might 
be parts of God. Hobbes quoted Tertullian and the Greek fathers 
to show that by body they meant essence ; and as neither Mr. Hobbes 
nor Mr. Tenison could explain it further, Mr. Hobbes said he knew 
that Cfod is, but he did not know what He is. To this Mr. Tenison 
sagely replied, " Ye worship ye know not what." Hobbes, not content 
with saying we could not know the essence of Deity, leaving spirit 
and body as names for quantity or quantities unknown, carried 
this doctrine of human incapacity into the domain of the moral 
attributes, denying that human reason can judge of God's doings, 
and maintaining that that may be just in God which is not just in 
us, for a thing is made just by God's doing it. To which Tenison 
triumphantly replied that the reason of mankind must be the eternal 
and universal standard, since God Himself had appealed to it as the 
judge of His justice and righteous dealing. " Are not my ways equal, 
and yours unequal P " " Judge between me and my vineyard, O 
house of Israel." Tenison also combated Hobbes' favourite doctrine 
of the absolute supremacy of the sovereign in religion. The doc- 
trine was purely Pagan. The laws of their country determined what 
gods should be worshipped. In the " twelve tables " it was forbidden 
that any man should have a personal religion. The Gospel, on the 
other hand, required men no longer to worship the national gods, 
but only the true God as revealed by Jesus Christ. Tenison said 
that Hobbes got the doctrine of the " Leviathan " from the oration 
of Euphemus in Thucydides, where the orator says, " Now, to a 
tyrant or city that reigneth, nothing can be thought absurd if pro- 
fitable." It is possible Hobbes may have found it here, but this is 
going a long way for it. 

John Bramhall, Bishop of Derry, and afterwards Archbishop of 
Armagh, was one of Hobbes' most determined adversaries. He was 
an able man, though somewhat rude and vehement, a fervent 
advocate of Episcopacy and the Stuarts, especially King Charles II. 
of blessed memory. Bramhall was the very incarnation of that 
violent spirit which, by the revengeful Act of Uniformity, ejected 
the Puritans from the Church of England. He had long dis- 
cussions with Hobbes on necessity, which need not trouble any one. 
Neither of them on either side said anything which had not been 
said before, and which has not often been said since. Hobbes 
repeated the usual fallacy about the will being always necessitated by 
the motive, and the bishop answered that every man feels and knows 
that he has power to will. When the " Leviathan " appeared, the 

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202 The Contemporary Review. 

Bishop of Berry could not resist the temptation to throw his line 
into the sea that he might entangle the great fish. He wrote a 
treatise called " The Catching of the Leviathan," and with a great 
deal of pleasantry which is very amusing in a man of episcopal dig- 
nity, he threatened to put an end to its existence by three harping- 
irone : one for its heart, a second for its chin, and a third for its head, 
— the religious, the political, and the rational parts. Yet the 
bishop confessed that he was only fighting with a shadow. " The 
' Leviathan ' was a mere phantasm of Mr. Hobbes' own devising. 
It was neither flesh nor fish, but a confusion of a man and a whale 
engendered in his own brains, not unlike Dagon, the idol of the 
Philistines, a mixture of a god, and a man, and a fish." In fact, the 
great marine brute, " the mortal god," was Thomas Hobbes himself. 

The theology of the "Leviathan," according to the bishop, was 
" atheistical" By making God corporeal, it denied His existence. 
By saying that He is not wholly in every place, it deprived Him of 
ubiquity ; and by making eternity equivalent to endless duration, it 
reduced Him to the condition of a finite existence, " older to-day 
than He was yesterday." Hobbes* answers were not much wiser 
than BramhalTs objections. He said that if God was all in one place, 
that would imply that He was excluded from other places; and he 
railed against the Schoolmen, who made eternity an everlasting note, 
and who, instead of saying God was just, true, and eternal, called 
Him justice, truth, and eternity. The use of these terms is not 
atheistical, as Hobbes said, neither is there any necessary heresy in 
the rejection of than. Bramhall, who had considerable learning, 
and was a tolerable theologian, protested manfully against the 
depraved view of human nature set forth in the " Leviathan." He 
ended his treatise with a recommendation that Mr. Hobbes should 
try his form of government in America, and if it succeeded among 
the savages, he might transplant it to England. In America Mr. 
Hobbes might have a chance of being chosen the sovereign, but 
Bramhall expressed fears that if his " ruling was as magisterial as 
his writing, his subjects might tear their mortal god in pieces with 
their teeth, and entomb his sovereignty in their bowels." Hobbes, 
who could be cool as well as severe, wrote an answer to the " Catch- 
ing " ten years after it was published, saying that he had only heard 
of it about three months since, so little talk teas there of his lord- 
ship's writings. 

The Boyle lecturer was Samuel Clarke, rector of St. James', 
Westminster. He classed Hobbes with Spinoza. For this classifica- 
tion there were some grounds. Hobbes agreed with Spinoza as to the 
consubstantiality of body and spirit. Spinoza, indeed, denied that 
God was a body, but then he explained that by body he meant that 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 203 

which has figure and dimensions, as length and breadth — that is, 
he denied that God was anything finite. Hobbes agreed, too, with 
Spinoza on necessity, and that the right of every man by nature 
depends on his might. On such questions as the nature of eternity 
Spinoza agreed rather with the Schoolmen, or we may say the old 
philosophers. Clarke chiefly combated the doctrine of necessity. 
One lecture, however, is almost entirely devoted to the consideration 
of law, in which Clarke shows that Hobbes frequently contradicts 
himself; sometimes maintaining that there is right and wrong in 
the nature of things, and at other times declaring right and wrong 
to depend on the will of the sovereign. 

To the question of law, Richard Cumberland, afterwards Bishop 
of Peterborough, dedicated a long Latin dissertation called "De 
Legibus Naturae/' It* was written professedly to refute Hobbes' 
doctrine both of moral and civil law. This book is remarkable as 
one of the earliest efforts in England to establish morality on a 
basis independent of authority. Cumberland's basis is, that we 
ought to promote the common good of all rational beings. God has 
shown to our reason that in the very nature of things well-doing is 
rewarded, and vice is punished. The law of nature is right reason, 
or, as the ancients called it, eternal reason. About this time many 
writers came forward eager to establish the principles of natural reli- 
gion, and the ineffaceable distinctions between virtue and vice. Chief 
among these were the Cambridge Platonists, as they were called — 
Cudworth, More, Whichcote, Workington, Harrington, and Wilkins, 
afterwards Bishop of Chester. Most of them make some reference 
to Hobbes, especially Cudworth, who indeed wrote his great work 
on the " Intellectual System of the Universe " as an antidote to the 
supposed atheism of the " Leviathan ; " and a treatise published 
after his death by Bishop Chandler, '*' Concerning Eternal and Im- 
mutable Morality/' in which Cudworth maintained that the mind 
has an innate knowledge of right and wrong. This doctrine was as 
old as Plato, and the doctrine of Hobbes as old as Plato's opponents. 
In the " Minos " Plato refers to those who identified a law (vopoc) 
with a decree of the city (&fyia xoXcwc). 

We need not do more than briefly notice some of the others who wrote 
against the " Leviathan." Mr. Tyrell, a friend of Bishop Cumber- 
land's, translated and abridged the disquisition "De Legibus Naturae," 
adding "A New Method of dealing with Mr. Hobbes." Samuel Parker, 
Bishop of Oxford, wrote, as a sequel to a Latin work, an English one, 
called " A Demonstration of the Divine Authority of the Law of 
Nature, and of the Christian Religion." The bishop gives a woeful 
picture of the viciousness and profanity, infidelity and atheism, of 
his age. Even the common people set up for sceptics, and defended 

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204 *fhe Contemporary Review. 

their sins as harmless actions. The bishop said that he was in pur- 
suit of truth, and would not be jostled out of the way " not by 
Thomas Hobbes nor an angel from heaven" The demonstration of the 
laws of nature was mostly taken from Bishop Cumberland. The 
second part, on the authority of the Christian religion, was original. 
By careful study, says the bishop, we may find out that there is a 
future life, and rewards and punishments. But revelation has now 
made these things evident. The grounds of the Christian faith he 
reckoned to be so convincing that they must enforce belief. He 
called the " Leviathan " " a foolish book, by the reading of which 
those who were by nature sufficient dunces, fancy themselves 
philosophers." The " poor village curate is sure to be a trophy to 
the arguments of the forward youth who has read the ' Leviathan/ " 
The bishop threatens " to load their infidelity with such a heap of 
absurdities as shall for ever dash their confidence and disarm their 
impiety." The Apostles, he goes on to say, laid down their lives in 
attestation of what they had seen. It was impossible that they 
should agree to deceive the world. The books of the New Testa- 
ment were written by the persons whose names they bear. The 
writers were sincere and impartial. Profane history, too, agrees with 
sacred. Josephus has given an account of Jesus. Phlegon speaks of 
an eclipse about the time of the crucifixion. Tiberius, according to 
Tertullian, believed in the divinity of Jesus Christ, and wished the 
Senate of Rome publicly to acknowledge it. Pontius Pilate wrote 
" The Acts of Pilate " for Tiberius. Justin Martyr appeals to them, 
and surely he knew better about their authenticity than Casaubon, 
and some other modern scholars, who have had the boldness to doubt 
that they were written by Pilate. Agbarus, the King of Edessa, 
wrote a letter to Jesus, inviting Him to come and cure him of some 
disease. To this letter Jesus wrote a brief and pithy atuncer. The 
TJicrapeuto mentioned by Philo were Christians, whatever Scaliger 
may say to the contrary. Justin Martyr testifies that in the city of 
Home devils were cast out daily by the name of Jesus, when the 
Roman exorcists could not cast them out. Irenaeus proves against 
the heretics that the Catholic Church had the true apostolical suc- 
cession, for the clergy could work the same miracles as the Apostles. 
They could cast out devils, foretell things to come, cure the sick by 
imposition of hands, and even raise the dead. The Roman Emperors 
confessed the supernatural power of the Christians. Marcus Aurelius 
was witness to the rain and thunder and lightning that came down 
on their enemies in answer to the prayers of the "thundering 
legion ;" and this is saying nothing of the multitude of miracles 
mentioned by Origen, St. Cyprian, St. Ignatius, and St. Augustine. 
If the "poor village curate" fell a victim to those who read the 

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Hhomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 205 

" Leviathan " it was his own blame. He ought to have known the 
valuable evidence from Christian antiquity provided for him by 
Samuel, Lord Bishop of Oxford.* 

Some of the small writers who made sport with the " Leviathan " 
have not even left their names to posterity, and of what they wrote 
the British Museum has only been able to treasure up a few frag- 
ments. " The True Effigies of the Monster of Malmesbury in his 
Proper Colours," has only the six pages " to the reader." Cowley's 
verses to Hobbes were vilely parodied after his death. "The Last Say- 
ings of Thomas Hobbes," consisting of startling passages from the 
" Leviathan," were cried through the streets after the fashion of the 
dying words of Baxter and Bunyan. Wits wrote elegies and 
epitaphs, f while religious visionaries saw Hobbes writhing in hell like 
Dante's monsters, half suffocated in sulphur. J " The ' Leviathan ' 

• Bishop Burnet speaks of Parker as " a man of little virtue, and as to religion, rather 
impious. He was originally an Independent, but after his conversion to Episcopacy 
he for some years entertained the nation with several virulent books, till he was attacked 
by the liveliest droll of the age (Andrew Marvell), who wrote in a burlesque strain, 
but with so peculiar and so entertaining a conduct, that from the king down to the 
tradesman his books were read with great pleasure. This not only humbled Parker, 
but his whole party." He was at one time so far on Hobbes* side that he said the king 
was not under God and Christ, but under God and above Christ. According to Burnet 
the second James made him a bishop to help on the ruin of the Church. Macaulay says 
11 the bishopric of Oxford was given to Samuel Parker, whose religion, if he had any, 
was that of Rome, and who called himself a Protestant only because he was encumbered 
with a wife." 

f One elegy gives what we may suppose to have been the general estimate of 

Hobbes : — 

44 He with such art deceived, that none can say, 
If his be errors, where his errors lay ; 
If he mistakes, 'tis still with so much wit, 
He errs more pleasingly than others hit" 

To this elegy is appended an epitaph which is too coarse to be quoted here. This is 
the last verse : — 

•« In fine, after a thousand shams and fobbs, 
Ninety years eating and immortal jobbe, 
Here matter lies, and there is an end of Hobbes." 
** Here lies Tom Hobbes, the bugbear of the nation, 
Whose death has frightened atheism out of fashion." 

X The following is from "Visions of Hell," ascribed to John Bunyan : — 

" Epenetus. — I had no sooner spoke, but one of the tormented wretches cries out, with 
a sad, mourning accent, — 

" Sure I should know that voice. It must be Epenetus. 

" I was amazed to hear my name mentioned by one of the infernal crew ; and there- 
fore, being desirous to know who it was, I answered : Yes, I am Epenetus ; but who 
are you, in that sad, lost condition, that knows me P 

" Dam. Soul. — To this the lost unknown replied : I was once well acquainted with 
you upon earth, and had almost persuaded you to be of my opinion. I am the author 
of that celebrated book, so well known by the title of ' Leviathan V 

" Epenetus— What, the great Hobbes ! said I. Are you come hither ? Tour voice is 
so much changed, I did not know it. 

"JHotow.— Alas! replied he, I am that unhappy man indeed.' But am so far from 

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206 The Contemporary Review. 

found out ; or, An Answer to Mr. Hobbes' ' Leyiathan/ in that which 
my Lord Clarendon hath passed over," was written by John White- 
head, of the Inner Temple, barrister-at-law. But the barrister had 
nothing to say which had not been better said by others. One of 
the best pieces against Hobbes is a little tract wanting the title-page. 
The writer undertook to show from " Mr. Hobbes' own principles, that 
the notions of laws of right and wrong, just and unjust, good and 
evil, are independent upon, and naturally and rationally antecedent 
to, the constitution of any commonwealth." 

William Pike, a clergyman, wrote, " Examinations, Censures, and 
Confutations " of " the Strange Man " and " his Strange Book." 
Alexander Ross* wrote " Leviathan drawn out with a Hook." He 
likened himself to young David encountering Goliath when the armies 
of Israel had been frightened by the vast bulk of his body, and the 
dimensions of his spear and armour, and his bragging and defying 
words. "The learned had been afraid to bridle Mr. Hobbes his 
* Leviathan ; ' but the spiritual shepherd, the least of the tribe of 
Levi, little in his own eyes," would show that the brute was not so 
terrible that people should be cast down even at the sight of him. 
John Eachard, D.D., wrote " Dialogues between Philautus and 
Timothy ; " that is, himself and Mr. Hobbes. They were dedicated 
to Gilbert, Archbishop of Canterbury (Sheldon), and were intended 
to be clever. One of them begins by Philautus asking Timothy if 
he had not hanged himself yet. The archbishop and the doctor of 
divinity saw only food for pastime in the great " Leviathan ; " but 
they could not play with him as with a bird, nor, as companions, 
make a banquet of him.f 

being great, that I am one of the most wretched persons in all these sooty territories. 
Nor is it any wonder that my voice is changed, for I am now changed in my principles, 
though changed too late to do me any good. For now I know there is a God ; but ! 
I wish there were not ! — for I am sure He will have no mercy on me, nor is there any 
reason that He should. I do confess that I was His foe on earth, and now He is mine 

in hell 

" Hobbes. — O that I could but Bay, I feel no fire ! How easy would my torments be 
to that which I now find them ! But oh, alas ! the fire that we endure ten thousand 
times exceeds all culinary fire in fierceness." 
♦ Immortalized in " Hudibras : " — 

" There wu an ancient sage philosopher 
That had read Alexander Tto$t over, 
And avrore the world, as he could prove, 
Was made from fighting and from love. 

M And he who made it had read Geodwtx, 
Or Ross, or Callus Rodigine.* 

In another place — 

f Benjamin Lancy, Bishop of Ely, also wrote against Hobbes on the question of 
necessity, and Seth Ward, Savilian Professor of Geometry at Oxford, afterwards Bishop 
of Exeter, wrote — "In Thomas Hobbes Philosophicam Exercitatio Epistolica," in 

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Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury. 207 

Did Hobbes really mean that the distinctions of right and wrong, 
truth and falsehood, had their origin from the civil ruler ? Did he 
mean — 

" Ut turpiter atrum, 
Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne P" 

or did he only wish to make the Pisos laugh P He knew that there 
were natural laws, unchangeable and eternal. He said expressly that 
what they forbid can never be lawful, nor what they command-be unlawful. 
Before the establishment of the Commonwealth there existed no law, 
according to his definition of law ; but he admits that what we gene- 
rally understand by the laws of right and wrong existed before all, 
and independent of all, civil society. Most of those who wrote against 
Hobbes have noticed that on this subject it is difficult to reconcile 
him with himself. Whatever he may have meant by ascribing 
unlimited power to his grotesque monster, we may, after all, fairly 
claim Hobbes as a teacher of immutable morality — an assertor of 
eternal law. 

John Hunt. 

which he controverted all the doctrines of the "Leviathan," metaphysical and physical, 
political and theological. But the great controversy of Hobbes' life was with Dr. John 
Wallis, another professor of geometry. This was merely on questions of geometry, 
and need not detain us. Dr. Whewell says of Hobbes* writings on this subject, that 
they were full of the u most extravagant arrogance, ignorance, and dogmatism which 
can be imagined." To the list of Hobbes* adversaries we may add Sir Robert 
Filmer, Daniel Scargil, Dr. Sharrock, Dr. John Templar, Mr. Shafto, and Robert 

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A ROYAL Commission to consider the laws of marriage in the 
United Kingdom has been sitting for upwards of two years. It 
has closed its evidence, and may be expected soon to make its report. 
What the character of that report may be, is still of course unknown; 
but the composition of the Commission affords a clue to at least the 
prepossessions with which the majority would approach the subject. 
The members comprise eight Englishmen to three Scotchmen, and 
three Irishmen. As the soundness of a system of law is not esta- 
blished by the number of individuals who are subjected to it, there is 
no very evident reason for this disparity in the proportion of the 
persons whose natural prejudices may be assumed to be in favour of 
that law to which they have been habituated. But even if the national 
representation had been more equal, the fact that eleven out of the 
whole fourteen are lawyers must have bid us pause before accepting 
the conclusions of such a body as decisive of the question submitted 
to them. Lawyers, as such, have no peculiar right, and no special 
competence, to prescribe the marriage law for the community. It 
would be as reasonable to make them the sole arbiters of what ought 
to be the system of our poor-laws, of our emigration laws, of our laws 
about schools or churches, or masters and servants, as to submit to 
their exclusive direction the principles of our marriage laws. Mar- 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 209 

riage is a social, not a legal question ; and in social questions lawyers 
have no further function than to tell us how to carry into effect the 
principles which the nation determines. Nay, their very training 
acts as a certain disqualification of them in any further capacity. It 
gives them the habit of considering the machinery more than the 
result. They think more of what people should be made to do, for 
the sake of legal convenience, than of what people are likely to do 
for the sake of their own convenience. Their desire is to make law 
systematic, precise, absolute, applying one rule to every contingency, 
overriding with one positive command every complication growing 
out of the infinite variety of human nature and circumstances. This 
method appears very philosophical, and in dealing with merely com- 
mercial or conventional arrangements, in which it is as easy to conform 
to one set of regulations as to another, it is often admirable and 
beneficial. But we must be cautious how we apply it in cases where 
a higher law, based on the principles of our nature, demands a more 
liberal recognition of the diversity of human needs. No legal enact- 
ment can make mankind of one pattern. Nor can any rule keep men 
from breaking through its fetters when strong temptation assails. 
The resource of lawyers in such cases is to strengthen their rule by 
increasing the weight of the penalties on disobedience. But here the 
public must step in to decide whether, after all, the infliction of the 
penalties does not create anomalies, abuses, immoralities, greater than 
would exist under a law less theoretically elegant, but more consonant 
to the actual requirements of humanity. And if by reviewing the 
results of the experience we have already had, the public can draw 
its own conclusions on this matter, the better course will be that it 
should decide and declare for itself the principles which should form 
the basis of its marriage code, rather than leave to lawyers to fashion 
for us a system of perfect legal completeness, which we shall find in 
practice works badly, or works mischief. 

It must be remembered also that marriage is a contract of a cha- 
racter entirely peculiar in many respects. It affects every class of 
the community; it is entered into by the humblest, the most illiterate, 
the most foolish, as well as by the wealthy, the educated, and the 
prudent ; it is influenced by the eagerest passions, and often con- 
eluded in circumstances when even the steadiest heads lose their 
judgment, and the affections overpower the restraints of reason, and 
of all customary motives of action ; and at the same time it is to all 
of an importance exceeding that of any other transaction in their lives, 
concerning not merely property, station, and honour, but morality, 
religion, and the eternity of souls. This universality and immensity 
of interest concur in requiring that all our regulations on the subject 
should be of the utmost simplicity, so that the most uninstructed may . 

vol. vti. p 

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2 1 o The Contemporary Review. 

understand them, and of the utmost precision, so that the most care* 
less may observe them. But it is at the same time evident that there 
are two distinct elements involved in this contract. There is that of 
human law, affecting mere civil rights. But there is also that of 
divine law, bringing in considerations' of a far higher range. Now 
lawyers are apt to look exclusively to the former element. They 
argue that in a transaction of such great worldly importance, the 
rules which guide other civil arrangements ought to be still more 
rigidly enforced ; and they often ask if it is not monstrous that 
marriage should be allowed to be solemnized with less formality than 
attends the transfer of a piece of land, or the sale of goods. But 
when we regard the consequences of the application of these doctrines 
in the two classes of cases we see how the peculiarities of the contract 
of marriage must affect our conclusions. It is a small matter to make 
a commercial arrangement subject to fixed regulations, and void if 
they are neglected. A moderate delay does no harm, a lawyer can 
be consulted if there is difficulty in understanding the law, and nullity 
is in some cases only an inconvenience, and at the very worst it is 
only a temporal loss. But with marriage all is different. There are 
times when impatience or opportunity admits of no delay, there are 
occasions in which no advice can be resorted to, and nullity involves 
consequences that are always tremendous, and sometimes may even 
reach beyond the grave. Here then it is possible that in the effort 
to make a solemn and formal legal ceremony indispensable, and to 
establish fixed and unalterable technical rules for its validity, the 
result may be to set up a human law which shall be at variance with 
the Divine, which may separate those whom God has joined, may 
forbid to marry where religion commands to marry, or may place 
some other earthly stumbling-block in the way of weak consciences, 
or vehement yet not unholy desires. 

In considering a question so wide and complex, the best way of 
simplifying it is to inquire first what are the existing laws, and what 
is the effect of their operation. And here we may begin with thoee 
of Scotland, as still maintaining rules which originally were the 
foundation of the marriage code of all Christendom. After con- 
sidering the nature and operation of these, we may proceed to review 
the working of the changes which English lawyers have in their 
country engrafted upon that primary system. The laws of Ireland 
need not detain us ; for their sole peculiarity is the preservation 
of some relics of intolerance in the case of mixed marriages between 
Roman Catholics and Protestants. 

In Scotland, following the example of Scripture (which nowhere 
enacts, or even suggests, any marriage ceremonial) and of the Canon 
or ancient Church Law, the consent of the parties is the sole < 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 211 

tial to a marriage. This consent may be proved by any sufficient 
evidence. In far the greater number of instances it is proved by a 
religious ceremony, in which a minister of religion officiates, after 
due publication of banns, and the marriage is then called by lawyers 
"regular." But this religious ceremony is not subject to any 
restrictions either of time or place, and, in point of fact, it is 
generally performed in a private house. If proclamation of banns 
is neglected, the clergyman and the parties are liable to penalties, 
though the marriage stands good. Such a marriage is, however, 
styled " clandestine." In cases where no religious ceremony inter- 
venes, there is no occasion for any public notice ; and nothing is 
essential except that in some way — by writing or by witnesses — the 
fact of deliberate purpose and consent should be proved. In this 
case the marriage is called "irregular," and if the consent was 
express it is called " consent de present*." When it is proved solely 
by witnesses, two are necessary, in conformity with the general law 
of evidence in Scotland. Sometimes, by way of securing a more 
solemn record, the parties go before a magistrate, and confess that 
they were married clandestinely, undergoing some small fine as the 
consequent penalty. But in some special cases the law declares that 
certain acts shall be held conclusive evidence of consent. When, 
under promise of marriage—proved either by writing or confessed 
on oath — a man seduces a woman, the seduction itself is held as 
evidence that the promise has been converted into actual consent, 
and the marriage dates from the period of that conversion. This 
is technically distinguished as marriage "by promise, subsequent 
copuld." When, again, a man and woman give themselves out as 
married, so that they are generally understood to be such in the 
neighbourhood in which they reside, the law holds that permitted 
reputation to be evidence that consent has at some time been given, 
without demanding proof of more formal and precise contract. In 
this case the marriage is said to be established by " habit and 

Any inconvenience which might follow from the difficulty of fixing 
the exact date in these two last cases of irregular marriage is obviated 
by the ancient rale, derived also from the Canon Law, that marriage 
legitimatizes the previous offspring. And it may be observed, 
in passing, that this rule leads indirectly to some injustice being 
done to the character of Scotland in point of morality, as tested by 
statistics. Many children born out of wedlock are legitimatized by 
the subsequent marriage of their parents, which has always been 
intended, but which there is in Scotland no legal reason for cele- 
brating before the birth. But in England, as such subsequent legiti- 
mation has no place, to evade bastardy the father and mother must 


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212 The Contemporary Revtew. 

marry before the birth. Hence, as the registrars in both countries 
only note the position of the parents at the date of birth, it happens 
that many more illegitimate births are registered in Scotland than 
in England ; but it does not follow either that there has been more 
immorality before marriage, or that there are more bastards existing 
at a later age. All that is shown by the registers is, only that more 
parents, who have been guilty of immorality, marry before a child is 
born in England than in Scotland. 

But another, and more important, misapprehension, not founded 
on statistics, prevails in England, even among many well-educated 
persons, respecting the marriage customs of Scotland. They have 
an idea that the exceptional forms of irregular marriage are really 
those in ordinary use. Grave judges have even stated in evidence 
before select committees of Parliament, that they suppose it is 
seldom that a marriage in Scotland is solemnized by a clergyman ! 
For the information, then, of southern readers of this Review, it 
may be right to repeat that the overwhelming majority of marriages 
in Scotland, probably at least 999 in 1,000, are regular, entered into 
after due proclamation of banns, and solemnized with the rites of 
the Church, differing only from the like ceremonial in England in 
that they are celebrated in a private house, instead of an ecclesias- 
tical building. So distinctly is this the fact, that if each Scotsman 
and Scotswoman will consult their own recollections, they will find 
that scarcely any among them can recall an instance in which indi- 
viduals personally known to them have been married irregularly. 
The cases of irregular marriage are always those in which secrecy, 
or some less reputable purpose, has been the motive ; and this is of 
at least as rare occurrence under the marriage law of Scotland as of 

It is, indeed, true that on this fact two opposing arguments have 
been founded : first, that if the irregular marriages are so rare, it is 
needless to continue the law which sanctions them ; and next, that 
there may really be more than we know of, because there may be 
many who are in doubt whether they are married or not. The first 
question turns on the point whether secrecy can be, or ought to be, 
invariably forbidden, and it may be left till we see what the English 
law has been obliged to concede in this respect. The second requires 
us to distinguish the class of persons among whom such doubtful 
unions can possibly be found. Now, in the first place, let us observe 
that it is, in fact, one of the leading advantages of the law of Scot- 
land that there can be no uncertainty when the parties wish to avoid 
it. In all regular marriages, for instance (having the advantage, it 
will be seen, over the like class of English marriages), there can be 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 213 

no doubt of the fact of legal marriage, for as there is nothing 
essential but consent, and consent has been placed beyond doubt, 
there is no room for error in form. As little doubt can there be 
where the consent has been expressed by parties who really mean it, 
although not in presence of a priest, nor even publicly, but privately, 
before witnesses, or in writing. A declaration, oral or written, that 
is meant to be plain and honest, is subject to no doubt. The sole 
cases, then, in which there is room for doubt are those in which 
marriage is established by dubious language of consent; or by a 
dubious promise preceding seduction; or by a dubious reputation in 
the neighbourhood. It may be reasonably questioned if these 
instances are numerous; nay, if they could be numerous in any 
decently moral state of society ; for they are all cases in which the 
parties have not only refused the public means of marriage (for 
which they may have had very good and proper reasons), but in 
which they have purposely resorted to equivocal means even in 
private, to excuse or cover an illicit connection. They have been 
trying either to deceive one another, or to deceive the public ; and 
not the marriage law, but their own designs, have led to the existence 
of doubt as to their position. 

But whether rare or common, let us consider more closely the real 
nature of the difficulty thus raised. It applies, as we have seen, solely 
to those who have been designedly ambiguous. But can it be con- 
ceived that any number of these would have been driven into real 
marriage by the certainty that their private arrangements would not 
be marriage P Let us take first the case of the marriage by " habit 
and repute." A man and a woman live together, and for their con- 
venience give out that they are married, all the while knowing they 
are not, and meaning not to be married. Is it reasonable to suppose 
that they would not have lived together at all if there had been no 
chance of the connection being ultimately declared to be marriage P 
Is it not evident that, since they do not want to be married, the 
mere possibility of such a result must rather deter than encourage a 
connection under such a name P Is it not also plain that in any 
case the sinful connection would have been carried on just the same 
had there not been the cloak of reputed marriage, only it might have 
been private instead of open P All that is effected by the difference 
in the laws of the two countries is, in fact, only this — that in England 
there are a great many more illicit connections which are temporarily 
concealed under the pretence of marriage than there are in Scotland. 
And the whole legal effect of the law of Scotland on the subject is, 
that it actually does convert, in occasional cases, that pretended 
marriage into a real one ; a result which may be very inconvenient 

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214 Tfo Contemporary Review. 

to respectable libertines, but sorely is not adverse to morality, nor 
injurious to public decency.* 

Any one who knows the social habits of the two countries can be 
at no loss to recall examples of the truth of these doctrines. It is 
unfortunately, but conspicuously, true that a looser state of principle 
exists among the upper ranks in England than is to be openly found 
in Scotland. I use advisedly the word " openly/ 9 for no one can 
presume to trace private conduct. But of the shameless women who, 
in public places in London, vie in display with matrons and maidens 
of rank, a very considerable proportion are kept under the temporary 
name of wives of their " protectors/ 9 In lower ranks also it is 
common for a mistress, to receive the appellation of wife until conve- 
nience no longer calls for maintenance of the deception. There are 
stories current at the Bar of eminent members of the profession who 
every year carry a different " wife" with them on circuit, o* on their 
vacation tour. It is obvious that the law of Scotland makes such 
arrangements far too dangerous to be indulged in in that country. 
And it is possible to imagine that this unaccommodating severity is 
the real cause which leads to so much of the declamation in English 
newspapers about the barbarous state of the law, under which "people 
find themselves married without ever having meant it ! " But it does 
not follow that the law of Scotland should be altered in order to give 
facilities to English journalists to import a succession of "wives" 
into Scotland during their holidays. 

Take, again, the only other case in which uncertainty can exist — 
that in which a woman chooses to be satisfied with an ambiguous 
declaration or promise. It is no less certain that in such cases as 
these the absolute impossibility of constituting marriage in that way 
would not prevent yielding to sin. These are occasions in which 
privacy is observed from some necessity of circumstances, but in which 
the passions are vehement, and the restraints of reason and conscience 
are weak. In such circumstances it is seen by the innumerable 
actions in England for damages for breach of promise of marriage 
or for seduction, in which such a promise has been the principal 
inducement, that a mere promise of that nature is often sufficient to 
lead to a woman's falL But in Scotland, actions in which a promise 
of marriage is proved are exceedingly rare, although in that country 
the woman herself may alwayB sue for damages for seduction, while 

• I have on former occasions expressed an opinion that, for the sake of attaining an 
assimilation of the law, the Scottish method of proving marriage by " habit and repute" 
might be renounced. Further observation on the social consequences thai exist where 
this rale is not in force, have led me however to doubt the wisdom of making such a 
sacrifice. At the same time it may be also observed that mere " reputation " is constantly 
admitted as sufficient evidence of marriage even in English Law Courts, unless the fret 
is formally disputed, and of recent date.; 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 215 

in England action is only allowed where her seduction has led to loss 
of her services to a parent or master. To what are we to attribute 
the comparative infrequency of use of this means of seduction in 
Scotland P It seems plainly due to the fact that the law makes its 
use an evidence of marriage, and that men fear to resort to it. This 
is a clear gain to morality. And how is that law to be blamed of 
which the effect is only to diminish the temptations to seduction, and 
sometimes to convert into marriage a connection which a harsher 
letter would denounce as invariably concubinage? 

It seems clear, then, that the known operation of the law itself 
tends to check the existence of occasions in which it can come into 
practical operation, and that the idea of there being many cases in 
which any uncertainty about the fact of marriage exists is wholly 
baseless and incredible, as well as contrary to general belief. But a 
different objection is sometimes urged against such an operation of 
the law, which needs only to be plainly stated to be reprobated. It 
is said that it favours the attempts of designing women to inveigle 
young men of rank into a marriage, that it allows of marriages with- 
out due notice to parents, and that it favours secret marriages, to the 
hurt of innocent persons afterwards. How does it do any of these P 
By simply declaring that, without any reference to rank or age, it is 
better to recognise marriage than to recognise fornication. We have 
but the choice between the two. No law can prevent both. No law 
can create prudence, honesty, openness, honour, chastity. It must 
take men and women as it finds them, and leave each to bear the 
penalty of their own misdeeds, or incaution, or of the misdeeds of 
others. But are we to attempt to set up a protection for high rank, 
or for parental authority, or for future dupes, by declaring that young 
men may commit any sin but matrimony P Is it too much for the 
morals of civilization to insist that marriage is in nearly all these 
cases by far the least of the evils into which hot young blood can 
fall P At least, here we have experience on the side of Scotland. It 
is the fact that there are not more misalliances, nor more contracts 
entered into secretly, nor more cases of bigamy through the first 
marriage being concealed, in Scotland than in England — the suffi- 
cient reason for which will be seen when we come to consider what 
the marriage law of that country is. 

When, then, we take a broad view of the operation of the marriage 
law in Scotland, we see that it is in its essence the most simple that 
can be conceived; devoid of any entangling legal forms, though 
lending itself readily to the combination of such religious rite as the 
parties desire to add to make it more solemn. We see that it is so 
clear that honest people cannot make a blunder about it. We see that 
it interposes the most powerful restraints on the commission of sin, 

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216 The Contemporary Review. 

whether openly or surreptitiously. We see that where doubt exist* 
at all, it exists only in the case of the intentionally immoral, and 
that the practical consequence of the doubt is only to convert into 
marriage in some few cases a connection which the law of England 
would always make concubinage. We may, therefore, safely draw 
the inference that the objections to it come only from three classes: 
the first being lawyers, who like to have strict law at all costs; the 
second being libertines, who like no difficulties interposed in the way 
of indulgence in their shameful purposes, and who especially hate to 
be caught in the snares they set for others ; the third being the 
guardians of aristocratic privilege, who would rather see a peer seduce 
than marry a girl of humble birth. 

It is less easy to state the requirements of a valid marriage in 
England than in Scotland. The old law of England was very similar 
to that of Scotland. Many great lawyers laid down that consent 
alone, without any intervention of religious rite, was enough to con- 
stitute a valid marriage. A great many years indeed after this system 
had been abolished, the House of Lords had occasion to consider the 
point on an appeal ; and their opinion was so equally divided, that it 
was only the form in which the appeal came before them that led to 
a decision that the interposition of a clergyman had always been 
necessary. But this question is of less consequence, because it was 
at least admitted on all sides that consent to marriage, or living 
together under the name of marriage, created a bond so strong that 
either of the parties might at any time, even if another marriage had 
meantime supervened, compel the other to go through the complete 
ceremony. But the law of England was not equally scrupulous with 
that of Scotland in regard to the character and position of those who 
might, in the name of religion, perform the full rite. By an old 
statute in Scotland, any clergyman celebrating marriage without due 
observance of the preliminaries of banns was liable to punishment 
The Church, also, would undoubtedly have deposed from his clerical 
function any minister who degraded it by irreverence or fraud. But 
neither the civil nor the ecclesiastical law in England made any such 
provision for decency and order. The consequence was that disgraced 
but not disrobed clergymen (" Fleet parsons," as they were called, 
because either in confinement in the Fleet prison for debt, or haunting 
its purlieus) were found in abundance, who at any hour of day or 
night, with no notice, and with no questions asked, were ready, for 
whatever fees in coin or liquor they could extort, to perform the 
marriage ceremony according to the forms of the Church. A writer 
in the Corn hill Magazine has recently given some extracts from the 
registers kept by those infamous clerical brokers, from which their 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 217 

degradation, and the inexpressible immorality of the proceedings to 
which they lent the cover of their priestly functions, are only too 
loathsomely apparent. A remedy, it was clear, was needed. But 
instead of seeking that which had been found effectual in Scotland to 
prevent the profanation, the English lawyers took a wholly different 
line. The Marriage Act (26 Geo. II. c. 33) enacted that publication 
of banns should be an essential ; that the publication should be upon 
three successive Sundays ; that it should take place in the churches 
of the parishes to which both parties belonged ; and that the marriage 
should be celebrated in a church in which banns were published. An 
error or defect in any of these requirements not merely, as in Scot- 
land, involved the parties in penalties, but was declared to annul the 
marriage. But curiously enough, the important matter of publication 
of banns was still allowed to be evaded by procuring a license to dis- 
pense with them from one of the surrogates of the bishop, of whom 
there are many in each diocese. This license is available only for 
marriage in the church it specifies, and one of the parties was required 
to reside for four (now two) weeks within the parish. But such 
licenses are granted on application, and on payment of the fees (about 
J63), the only preliminary being that the party applying should swear 
that both are of age, or, if not, that they have the consent of parents 
or guardians. The Act declared that want of such consent should, 
in the case of license, annul the marriage. When banns were used, 
consent of parents was not made necessary, but express dissent would 
annul the marriage of a minor. 

This Act continued in operation for the best part of a century, but 
at last public opinion could no longer bear its harshness. It was 
found that an error might very easily and very innocently be made 
in publishing the names of the parties, and that the penalty of 
annulling the marriage was an invitation to the fraudulent to 
make such an error. It was also found that the like penalty in 
case of a marriage had by license, when one of the parties falsely 
swore that consent of parents had been obtained, offered most con- 
venient facilities for satisfying the scruples of a young woman by 
a strictly regular marriage, which could afterwards be repudiated 
in consequence of a perjury of which she had not been cognizant. 
In a new Act, the 4 Geo. IV. c. 76, which forms the basis of the 
present code, these defects were remedied by the enactment that 
errors in the ceremony, or in the banns, or falsehood in the oath 
on which a license is obtained, should not annul the marriage unless 
the error had been committed wilfully and in the knowledge of both 
parties. But even this was found not sufficient relaxation. Dis- 
senters objected to be married by the Church of England, and some 
persons objected to any religious ceremony at all. Permission has, 

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2i 8 Tfie Contemporary Review. 

therefore, been given that the marriage may be celebrated in any 
chapel duly registered for the purpose, or even in the office of the 
Registrar of Births, Deaths, and Marriages of the district. In the 
latter case, instead of banns, the notice of marriage must be read at 
three weekly meetings of the guardians of the poor. These are the 
leading provisions of the present law, but they are contained in a 
vast number of enacting, declaring, amending, and repealing acts, 
and it would be wholly impossible in reasonable bounds, and with 
regard to clearness for popular comprehension, to set forth all the 
statutory provisions by which marriage in England is affected. 

But out of the history itself of these changes we may draw some 
very positive conclusions. England has tried the experiment of 
making the validity of marriages depend on clerical celebrations, 
on publicity, and on consent of parents. In every one of these 
points she has been compelled to alter her law. The consequence 
was found to be too terrible, and the amount of sin to which enforce- 
ment of the legal rule led was too serious to allow the system to 
stand. We must therefore take it as established by experience that 
none of these elements can henceforth be enforced by the penalty of 
nullity of the marriage. 

But when this penalty has been relaxed we really arrive at a 
liberty of marriage not very different in substance from that of 
Scotland. It is quite possible, for instance, in England that a valid 
marriage should be constituted by a sham religious ceremony, per- 
formed in a barn, by a sham clergyman, under false names, between 
a boy of fourteen and a girl of twelve, without a word of notice 
to anybody ; for if only one of the parties is in the belief that the 
place is a church or chapel, the minister a clergyman, and the names 
correct, the marriage stands good, despite the fraud of the other 
party in any of these respects. Furthermore, under any circum- 
stances, a marriage will be good, however young the parties, however 
unknown the fact to their parents or others, and if by license, however 
inaccurate the names, the only consequence of false names in the case 
of a license being loss of pecuniary advantage from the marriage. 
Lastly, it may be observed that every one of these provisions as to 
time, place, or notice may be dispensed with by a special license, 
granted by the Archbishop of Canterbury only to peers or persons of 
high influence. 

The consequence, practically, is that there is no further difficulty 
in contracting a secret marriage in England than in Scotland, when- 
ever the parties seriously wish it to be kept secret. It is but a 
matter of £3 to get a license, which, though false in names and in 
every other particular, warrants a marriage that cannot be over- 
turned. If that expense or risk be too much, it is easy for the 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 219 

parties so to arrange their residence as to have the banns duly 
published in their proper names, but in parishes where no one is 
the wiser for the announcement. So clearly is this fact now recog- 
nised that Lord Chelmsford, who is a great opponent of the Scottish 
system, declared in the House of Lords, during the last session, that he 
was convinced the English system of banns was of no use as a means 
of publicity. -Consequently, there is quite as much risk in England 
as in Scotland of a subsequent marriage being defeated by the dis- 
covery of a prior one that had been kept concealed. Bigamy ap- 
pears, by the criminal statistics, to be fully as common in the South 
as in the North. And the records of the Divorce and other law 
courts, as well as the facts that are every day -coming to light in 
society, prove that there are as many marriages contracted by young 
men and women without the knowledge of their friends, as many 
in which the alliance is on one side or other disreputable, and as 
many in which the existence of a prior secret marriage proves the 
ruin and misery of others, under the legislation of England as 
under the so-called loose rules of Scotland. 

Such then being the facilities which the English law, under the 
teaching of experience, has been driven to accord to clandestine 
marriage, let us now examine the practical operation of the restric- 
tions which remain. A marriage is null if the parties " knowingly 
and wilfully intermarry in any other place than a church or chapel 
in which banns may lawfully be published;" or if they marry 
without due publication of banns or license ; or if the ceremony is 
celebrated by any person not " in holy orders ;" unless the marriage 
is in a Dissenter's chapel or in the registrar's office. 

As to the first of these requisites, we have to ask, What is a 
church ? Most people may think that an easily-answered question ; 
but cases in the English law-books show it to be often a difficult 
one. The ruins of a church have been held, in virtue of an adher- 
ing odour of consecration, to be a suitable place for celebrating 
marriages in.* The vestry adjoining a church has been held to be 
the church for the same purpose ; but the chapel of an embassy has 
been held not to be. Again, if a church is not left in ruins, but is 
rebuilt, it needs a fresh consecration and a fresh authority as a 
place for publishing banns and celebrating marriages ; and omission 
of some of these ceremonies throws grave doubt on the validity of 
all the marriages solemnized within the walls. Every session Acts 
of Parliament are passed to remedy some of these unfortunate lapses. 
The preambles of two of these Acts passed within the last couple of 

* In a popular publication it would be useless to cite the reports in which the cases I 
refer to are to be found. I have given the authorities for each statement made here, in 
a paper submitted, at their request, to the Boyal Commission on the Marriage Laws. 

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220 The Contemporary Review. 

years, will sufficiently show their character. The first declares that 
"the church of Sydmonton, in the county of Southampton, was 
taken down for the purpose of being rebuilt, and a new church was 
thereupon erected upon the old foundations, and opened for divine 
service on 28th May, 1853, and divers marriages had been since 
solemnized therein under the impression that as the said church was 
built on ground heretofore duly consecrated, other consecration was 
unnecessary, and no consecration took place until 17th August, 
1865." In the case of the second, the preamble bears that the 
chapel-of-ease, called St. James the Greater, in the parish of Lam- 
bourne and county of Berks, " was, on 12th April, 1853, duly con- 
secrated, but no authority had ever been given by the bishop for the 
publication of the banns and solemnization of marriages therein, 
and divers marriages have nevertheless been solemnized in the said 
chapel under an erroneous impression, on the part of the minister 
thereof, that by virtue of the said consecration or otherwise, mar- 
riages might be lawfully solemnized therein." Consequently, till 
the fact is luckily discovered, there has been an indefinite number 
of marriages celebrated for a dozen years together, which all the 
while are legally worthless, and which only by Act of Parliament 
can be converted subsequently into legal unions ! It is thus plain 
that not only bride and bridegroom, but the clergyman himself, 
may often have extreme difficulty, and fall into fatal errors, in try- 
ing to fulfil what seems the very simple injunction that the ceremony 
must be performed in a regular church. 

Now let us look at the matter of proclamation of banns. Although 
it is now confessed even by English lawyers that this ceremony is 
useless, and probably it may therefore be abrogated, the questions 
that have arisen upon it will still be important, because they will 
apply to any enactment which requires the parties to give their real 
names for registration. But what is to be considered the real name 
is often a very difficult question. It has been held in one case that 
when the Christian name of the husband was given as John only, 
there being really two Christian names, Henry John, the marriage 
was void. In that and some similar cases the ground of the decision 
was, not that the one party had in any way deceived the other, but 
that there was a disparity of age and station, and an intention to 
escape publicity ! Within the last two years there was a case in which 
a man gave his name as Henry Wells, instead of George Henry 
Wells, to which omission, at his earnest solicitation, the woman 
assented; and on this ground the marriage was subsequently set 
aside in a suit at the instance of the husband's father, against the 
wish of both parties ! But not merely the omission, but the addi- 
tion of a Christian name will sometimes annul the marriage. There 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 2 2 1 

is, however, no certain rule on the subject : the judges have declared 
that the result will depend on the circumstances of each case. 
Assuredly a doctrine leading to far greater uncertainty than any 
that can be discovered in the practice of the law of Scotland. 

These were indeed cases in which there had been an attempt to 
evade the law. But there is another class in which there has been 
no such desire, yet in which error in form has proved no less fatal. 
In one much-considered case, the woman's name had been erroneously 
entered in the register of baptisms, and on the occasion of her mar- 
riage it was thought that the safe course was to use the name so 
registered ; but it was afterwards held that this was wrong, and that 
consequently her marriage was null. In another case the woman 
used a wrong name "in a mere idle frolic," and this was also held 
fatal. But what to do in cases in which there has been a change of 
name, or in which a name of reputation has been used by which the 
party is better known than by his or her real name, is an extremely 
difficult question, which the English judges have often adverted to, 
but on which they have laid down no clear rule for the guidance of 
parties so situated. A cruel situation Enough ! 

But though the law is thus hard on people who are either careless 
or have the misfortune to stand in any situation in the least degree 
out of the common, it can be lax enough at times when even gross 
fraud has been practised. For example, a woman whose husband 
was still alive, gave her name for the banns, with a view to marriage 
to another man, as Emma Elwood, her real name being Amelia, and 
described herself as a spinster. Her existing husband chanced to die 
before the celebration of the ceremony following on these banns, and 
the marriage with the new husband was held irrevocable, because the 
fact of her being actually a married woman when the banns were 
published was only a matter of status, and the deceived bridegroom 
had not been cognizant of the error in the name ! For it will be 
remembered that it is only when both parties are cognizant of the 
misdescription in names that the English law annuls the marriage. 

The rules to be deduced from all the cases are thus stated by Lord 
Tenterden : 1st. If there has been a total variation in a name or 
names, the marriage is void, whether the variation has been from 
accident or design ; 2nd. If there has been a partial variation only, 
as the alteration of a letter or letters, or the addition or suppression 
of a Christian name, or if the name used has been in use at one time 
and not at another, it is necessary to inquire into the motives of the 
parties ; for if their purpose has been honest the marriage may be 
good, if their object has been secrecy it will be bad. In these cases, 
then (quite as frequent in occurrence as any cases of doubt in Scot- 
land), the establishment of positive rules does not lead to absolute 

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222 * The Contemporary Review. 

certainty ; it only leads to the inquiry being made into the motives 
of the parties ; and that, not as regards their real purpose of marriage, 
as in Scotland, but as regards their purpose of concealment or not ! 
A question at least as difficult of determination, but far less material 
to be ascertained. 

A curious question has been raised by some of the bishops within 
the last year which affects the validity of half the marriages in 
England, and illustrates the uncertainty introduced by enactments of 
formalities. The statute declares that marriages shall be invalid 
if the banns (if that method is adopted) have not been duly published, 
and it directs them to be published "during the time of morning 
service or of evening service (if there shall be no morning service) 
immediately after the second lesson." Now statutes are not 
punctuated; and it is obvious that this sentence may, by an altera* 
tion in the position of the points, be made to read either as signifying 
that the time for due publication is after the second lesson in the 
forenoon ; or, that it is at any time in the forenoon, but if in the 
afternoon, then after the second lesson in that service. Most clergy- 
men have read the statute in the former sense ; but the Bishop of 
Oxford and others have recently declared that it ought to be read in 
the latter, and that clergymen must, under peril of contumacy, 
publish banns, not after the second lesson in the forenoon, but after 
the Nioene Creed. Whichever party is right, all whose banns have 
been published in the other way are in danger of being pronounced 
not legally married! Accordingly, a remedy was sought in the 
usual English fashion, by a Bill, brought into Parliament last session, 
which declared that marriages should be good at whatever period in 
the service the banns had been published. But after sharp debate 
between the partisans of rival readings, the Bill was withdrawn, and 
the point remains^ undecided ! Yet what would be said of Scotland 
if its law of marriage admitted of such wholesale doubts, and needed 
such sweeping legislative remedies ? 

On the whole, then, it appears that English lawyers, aiming above 
all things at certainty of rule, have given rise to a far greater degree 
of uncertainty than the Scottish law admits of. After being driven 
by force of experience to abandon the attempt to make anything 
imperative except celebration in a public place and the use of the 
true names, they have only succeeded in importing fresh sources of 
doubt into the correctness of the proceedings. And unhappily these 
doubts apply quite as much in cases where there is a desire to do 
everything regularly as where there is irregularity. In Scotland, 
persons who really intend to marry cannot make a blunder, for they 
have only to say so in any place, in any form, and before any witnesses. 
But in England no couple can be sure of having been legally married 

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Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. zz$ 

unless they have inquired whether the church in which the rite was 
performed had been duly consecrated after its erection, and had been 
duly licensed for marriages, and is a place where banns are usually 
published. Then they must have no doubt of the clergyman having 
been duly ordained ; and they must be confident that there has been 
no error in omitting or adding a Christian name, or in spelling any 
name, or in leaving out or employing any name of reputation, or in 
the period of publishing the banns. And yet all this intolerable 
strictness of form, oppressing the honest, is found not at all a 
hindrance to the dishonest, nor the least security against secret or 
ill-assorted marriages. 

Besides these cardinal points, in regard to- which any blunder 
annuls an English marriage, there are a number of other injunctions, 
neglect of which is visited with minor penalties, but which may raise 
questions of equal difficulty. It is, for example, directed that marriages 
must be celebrated between the hours of eight and twelve noon, and 
in presence of two witnesses. It ib not at present worth any one's 
pains to inquire critically into the hour, since inaccuracy does not 
affect the validity of the ceremony ; but if it did, it is plain that an 
infinity of difficulties might be occasioned by disparity of watches, 
and that the question what is the crucial moment of the ceremony 
would have to be settled in case it was commenced before but con- 
cluded after the hour. This last point has in fact arisen when an 
interruption was made on the part of an objector prior to the ring 
being placed on the bride's finger. As to witnesses, it has been lately 
settled that one is enough ; and a doubt has been expressed whether 
even one is needful. In Ireland, where the old law required witnesses, 
but did not direct the ceremony to be in a church, a strange question 
came recently before the courts. A couple had been married in a 
room in a house, no witness being present in the room, but it was 
insisted that a maid saw what was going on from the stable-yard, 
and, therefore, the requisite witnesses were present. In the same 
case there arose the point whether a clergyman could perform the 
ceremony for himself, and this was, after much dispute on the bench, 
decided in the negative. 

It is tolerably clear from these instances that whatever matter 
might be selected as essential to a marriage would be sure to give rise 
to an endless diversity of nice questions. There are persons who 
would, as they think, simplify the affair by abandoning all legal 
necessity for any ceremony, and limiting the requisites to that of 
registration. But it seems evident that so soon as registration is con- 
verted into the critical test there will arise the same difficulty in 
deciding what is registration. It is obvious, for example, that it 
must be effected in the registrar's office, if not in a church, for if the 

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224 ^* Contemporary Review. 

place were not fixed, the registrar might go about with his book 
under his arm, and become a modern Fleet parson. But what shall 
be held to be the office P Would it include a closet or passage if the 
office were under repair P Would it include an adjoining room in 
the house if the registrar were ill and asked the parties to walk into 
his dining room P Who is to certify it as being an office, and what 
is to happen if the certificate is not made, or is informal P Then as 
to the names of the parties, all the difficulties we hare seen illustrated 
in the matter of banns would re-appear. Would the marriage be 
bad if a Christian name were omitted, or wrongly spelt, or wrongly 
contracted P Peter, for instance, is the same as Patrick in Scotland, 
but different in England. Poll stands for Mary in England, though 
there is not a letter alike in the two words. Would the consequence 
be that a Patrick, commonly known as Peter, or a Mary, universally 
called Poll, would be married or not if they were united under either 
designation P or would they be married in one country but not in 
another P or would the only safe way be to marry with an alias P 
Smyth is maintained by its owners to be a fundamentally distinct 
name from Smith ; would then an inaccurate use of y for i make 
future children bastards P An endless controversy would grow out 
of the dots over the i's and the strokes of the t's, which might trans- 
mogrify names by the thousand into something quite different from 
what they looked at the first glance. Are the parties to write their 
own names P and, if so, is their identification to depend on the per- 
fectly illegible scratches which some people delight to call their 
signature P Or is the registrar to write them P and, if so, is the 
happiness of families, and the security of wedded honour, to depend 
upon the care with which, in the flurry of incipient connubialism, 
the parties, or their assistants, superintend the registrar's spelling P 
Then, again, if witnesses are required, there will be a reduplication 
of all these opportunities for unwitting error. Then as to the hour 
(for it cannot be suffered that the registrar should celebrate marriage 
at midnight) there will be the puzzle of clocks, and the questions 
if the clock strikes when the bride has half written her name, or 
the bridegroom or witnesses are completing their final flourishes. 
Let no one say that all these are theoretical and fanciful difficulties. 
They are just such as occur in every case in which a legal formality 
is made essential. Many of those I have adverted to have in fact 
been suggested by actual cases which have occurred in regard to the 
signing of wills, deeds, or bills of exchange. But no one can foresee 
what curious variety of inaccuracies the human intellect can fall 
into in executing the simplest formality. This is in other cases not 
always of vital importance, but surely it is immeasurably serious 
when the questions at stake on such minuti® are those of matrimony 
and legitimacy. 

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The Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 225 

After all, what would be gained ? When a marriage was disputed, 
it could be proved, if everything had been done regularly. ' But in 
such a case it can, at present, be proved even in Scotland with as 
much ease. If anything, however, had been omitted or done 
irregularly, there would be the doubt whether it was a fatal error, 
and the courts must, as now, solve the doubt. In doing this, how- 
ever, they would have to consider minute matters of form, instead of 
broad questions of substance. Sometimes they would still have to 
inquire into intention, but it would be the intention of correct 
formality, not of vital purpose. What is gained by the substitu- 
tion of such cunning puzzles in room of the question whether two 
persons really meant to marry ? 

Let it also be kept in mind that the English rules do not at all 
exclude questions of capacity to contract. Many of the cases in 
which the Scottish law is accused of barbarism arose out of the doubt 
whether the contract had been entered into between persons capable 
of contracting, and it is assumed that to require a marriage to be 
celebrated by a clergyman insures safety from such doubts. But it 
certainly does not. The instances in which a clergyman can safely 
refuse to perform the rite because one of the parties is manifestly 
drunk or mad, can scarcely ever occur, and in such cases there would 
Tbe no doubt in Scotland any more than in England. But the really 
difficult cases of semi-stupefaction, or of semi-insanity, occur as much 
in the one country as in the other. For example, the second marriage 
©f the Earl of Portsmouth was dissolved (within the last half century) 
en the ground that though he might be sane enough to contract a 
good marriage in circumstances free from suspicion — and therefore 
no opinion was expressed whether his first marriage was good or not 
— he was of too weak mind to contract marriage with the daughter 
of his solicitor, who exercised an improper influence over him. A 
curiously vague ground of decision ! Again, last year a mar- 
riage was dissolved, after several years' endurance, and at the 
suit of the wife's relatives, though neither she nor the husband 
desired it, on the ground that at the date of the marriage she had 
been subject to fits of mania — would dress her hair with straws and 
papers, and sit naked in a bath, &c, &c, indications of insanity 
which were known to all the parties, but unknown to the clergyman, 
as she was subject to lucid intervals. In this case, after the jury 
had found insanity at the date of the ceremony, Sir James Wilde 
deferred pronouncing dissolution of the marriage, in order to allow 
the husband, if he could, to adduce evidence to Batisfy him that 
the wife had since become sane. This, again, is a very singular 
method of dealing with a contract supposed to be completed and 
made indisputable by a legal and religious ceremony. But it shows 


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22b The Contemporary Review. 

dearly that no formalities can prevent the occurrence of such diffi- 

Failing, then, to give certainty, defence against fraud, or protec- 
tion to weakness, what is there remaining that the English rules do 
effect P There is only one thing which they succeed in — they prevent 
very sudden marriages, and marriages celebrated in a private house. 
The method of banns, or of registration, requires a fortnight's 
notice. The method by license requires an hour or two's notice. 
And in all cases the parties must leave their own houses and resort 
to some public place. Is this, then, a valuable precaution, to be 
secured at so serious a cost as that of making many marriages invalid, 
and many doubtful ? Experience seems to prove the contrary. Let 
it be noted that no objection on the score of want of deliberateness 
can lie against two of the forms of irregular marriage in Scotland, 
for "habit and repute" implies a lengthened association as married 
persons, and promise in writing, followed by cohabitation, is evidence 
of equal deliberation. There is, then, solely the method by present 
consent, which can be adopted for sudden use. But the fact is, it is 
not. There is no greater number of ill-advised marriages in Scotland 
than in England. There is no greater number of cases in which men 
of fortune have been duped into matrimony by female adventurers. 
There are not more, but probably fewer cases, in which rank has been 
degraded by alliance with infamy. It is invidious, and useless, to 
cite names in this matter, but the fact is that the only cases in which 
peers have married prostitutes are cases of English peers, married in 
England by English clergymen. If people would only recollect that 
consent in Scotland must be a real, deliberate, and sane consent, duly 
proved by witnesses or by writing, they would be ashamed to put 
forward the silly assertion that men and women may be married in 
Scotland by a few hasty words uttered or written unthinkingly and 

So long indeed as marriage by license is suffered in England 
nothing can reasonably be urged by English lawyers in favour of the 
superior deliberateness of their system. An oath that may be false, 
and a brief notice to a clergyman to attend, are poor securities for 
careful reflection. But, on the other hand, it is worthy of considera- 
tion whether it is warrantable to say that none shall be married who 
cannot attend in a public place. Is it justifiable to lay down an un- 
bending rule that sick or crippled persons shall never be allowed to 
perform what may be a just act of expiation of previous sin, or a 
necessary form to give legitimacy to unborn children P Is the fancy 
(erroneous as it is), that we thus protect the dissolute' from suffering 
the consequences of their follies, enough to give us comfort in the re- 
flection that we impede repentance, forbid justice, compel men and 
women sometimes to abide in what they deem a state of sin, and visit 

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The Marriage Laws of England and Scotland. 227 

the consequences of their errors upon future generations P Would it 
not be wiser, as well as more Christian, to withdraw all artificial 
impediments, and to allow those who desire to bo joined together to 
effect their purpose legally, without demanding attendance either at 
church or office ? 

If the English, or any conceivable system, had the result of making 
secret marriages impossible, an argument of religion would lie as 
strongly against it. It is out of the question that men and women 
can be withheld from love by the fact that they dare not publicly 
marry, but it is not probable, till the world very much alters, that 
sinful love will not take the place of virtuous love if secret marriage 
be forbidden. But I leave this without argument : for the fact is, 
as has been seen, that secret marriages are as easy and frequent in 
England as in Scotland, and that English legislators have been forced 
by the demands of morality to abolish such of their rules as formed 
any impediment to secrecy. 

Such are the reasons which present themselves, on a review of the 
facts, against the system of restricting, by human formalities, this 
contract of nature and religion. If the conclusions to which they 
lead are contrary to the opinions of most of my profession in England, 
and of many in Scotland, I can only answer that they are also 
opposed to what were my own first prepossessions, but have been 
forced upon me from a consideration of the law, not merely in theory 
but in practical operation. And I cannot but think that it is want 
of attention to practical facts that chiefly leads to the prevalent belief 
that marriage needs the enactment of formalities for its security. 
The idea is so plausible, that it commands assent without inquiry, 
and then prejudice comes in to make inquiry rejected as superfluous. 
Nor, indeed, is it easy for either Englishmen or Scotsmen to enter into 
the inquiry. It needs a knowledge not only of English and Scottish 
law, but of English and Scottish cases, in which law books give little 
help ; and of the habits and practices of society, in all classes in the 
two countries, such as is not to be found in books at all. For myself, 
having laboured as earnestly as any to promote assimilation of law 
where it is possible, — on the one hand, by the adoption in Scotland 
of preferable English rules; on the other, by the acceptance in 
England of principles which Scottish practice has proved to be 
sounder, — I am yet obliged to say that I would far rather see the 
divergence in the marriage law maintained, with all its concomitant 
evils, than removed by the substitution in Scotland of any ensnaring 
legal technicalities in room of the broad and simple doctrine that 
marriage shall be as free as God has made it, and shall be proved, 
when doubted, by any evidence which can show what the parties 
really meant. John Boyd Kinneae. 

Q 2 

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HPHE knowledge of what constitutes a man's ideal reveals to us the 
■*- best part of his character. This is equally true of epochs and 
of nations as of individuals ; and herein consists the special interest 
of those works which describe imaginary constitutions — of that 
chiliastic literature which occupies so prominent and so important a 
place in the history of religion, of civilization, and of politics. Such 
writings commonly set forth plans and express hopes which go far 
beyond all that is possible under given circumstances, often too, far 
beyond what is at all possible to humanity ; but if they truly express 
the thoughts of their time and of its leading men, we may, neverthe- 
less, learn much from them. On one hand, they reveal to us the 
objects which their authors regarded as the highest and most to be 
desired, and also the impulses which actuated the society generally 
in the midst of which they originated. Again, they show us what, 
at a given period, were regarded as evils to be remedied in the exist- 
ing circumstances, and what means were adopted to bring about this 
improvement ; and thus they both throw light on the past by testing, 
and often inexorably condemning it by the standard of later times, 
and also give prophetic pictures of succeeding historical develop- 
ments. For every genuine and historically justified ideal must 

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Influence of Plato's Social Theories. 229 

be a prophecy, and the essential difference between an Idealist and a 
Phantast is, that the latter pursues objects arbitrarily chosen with 
impossible means, while the first starts under the pressure of existing 
evils, and strives after objects historically justified, which only 
become fanciful in their further development because the conditions 
do not yet exist for a clear understanding of them, and for their 
realization in a natural manner. 

Of all the productions to which the above remarks can apply, there 
is none to be compared with the Republic of Plato, either for the 
place it holds in history, or for its intrinsic value. At first sight, 
indeed, this work cannot fail to make a most singular impression on 
us. A state in which philosophers rule, and are meant to rule, with 
absolute power, without any constitution or any other legal restric- 
tion ; where the separation of classes is so strictly carried out that 
soldiers and officials are forbidden to take any part in agriculture or 
manufactures, while agriculturists and manufacturers are, without 
exception, excluded from all political action, and reduced to mere 
tax-paying subjects ; where the citizens are considered to belong 
entirely to the State, never, even in the most private relations, to 
themselves ; where marriage and family relations and private property 
are practically done away with for the higher classes ; where all 
marriages are specially arranged by the authorities ; where children, 
without knowing their own parents, are brought up from their 
birth in public institutions ; where all able-bodied citizens are fed 
together at the public expense, and girls, like boys, instructed in music, 
gymnastics, mathematics, and philosophy, and women employed like 
men as soldiers and officials ; a State which professes to be founded on 
scientific principles, yet lays the heaviest chains on the free move- 
ments of intellectual life ; Which sternly represses any deviation from 
received principles, any moral, religious, or artistic innovation — such 
a one is in idea so opposed to all our moral and political conceptions, 
it not only appears, but is so impossible to carry out, and was felt to 
be so even in its own time, that it is not surprising that the Republic 
of Plato should have become proverbial as a fantastic ideal, and the 
invention of a dreamer. 

Such was the light in which it was universally regarded until quite 
recently. Now, however, people have gradually become convinced 
that there is far more reality in this imaginative picture than a super- 
ficial view of it would lead us to believe. It is not merely that Plato 
himself adopts his theories in all earnestness, and believes there is no 
salvation for humanity but in them ; we also see in them so much 
that is adapted to their existing customs and institutions, and even 
their most singular provisions can so well be accounted for by the 

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circumstances of the time and the speciality of Platonic philosophy, 
that we cannot regard them as arbitrary inventions, bat as conclusions 
whioh the philosopher could not escape, being, as he was, a Greek 
of the fourth century before Christ, and a man of logical mind. 
The very first axiom in his State government by philosophers finds 
its explanation in the combination of the actual circumstances and 
the principles of the Platonic system. For the existing Greek con- 
stitutions had clearly outlived themselves, and in the confusion of 
the Peloponnesian war had vied with each other in bringing about 
the downfall of the States, and in Plato's eyes the restored democracy 
in Athens also had irrevocably condemned itself by the execution of 
Socrates. And a system which professed to found all morality upon 
knowledge could not logically follow any other rule than govern* 
ment by philosophers, since a State can only be transformed into the 
image of an idea, as according to Plato it should be, by those who 
have elevated themselves to the contemplation of ideas. In the same 
way we trace both a practical and a theoretical reason for Plato's 
separation of classes : the first, in the contempt felt by the Greeks 
for manual labour, which caused most of them to look on industry as 
degrading to a free citizen, a feeling which among the Spartans even 
extended to agriculture ; and the second, in the fear felt by the 
philosopher of involving his citizens in the occupations of the out* 
ward world, and the conviction that a thorough cultivation of the 
mind and character is the only fit preparation for the higher duties 
of the warrior and the statesman, while such cultivation is incom- 
patible with the pursuit of worldly gain, or any active life which has 
for its object the satisfaction of sensual wants and desires. And if 
we are naturally repelled by the complete subordination of individual 
rights to those of the State, and the disregard of personal interests, 
which comes out most strongly in the abolition of marriage and of 
private property, we must remember that this is but the extreme 
expression of a manner of thought, which was as natural to the 
Greeks as it is foreign to us. That the citizens existed for the State, 
and not the State for the citizens ; that no individual had any claim 
upon the State, was generally admitted in Greece, and in Sparta 
especially the existing custom was in many respects similar to the 
institutions of Plato. It was lawful, for instance, in case of need, to 
make use of other persons' tools, utensils, beasts of burden, and 
slaves, as of one's own ; the citizens were forbidden the use of silver 
and gold, and instead of the precious metals iron was employed as 
current coin ; the male population was even in time of peace almost 
constantly absent from home, on account of the community which 
was enjoined in meals, in gymnastics, in amusements, even in their 
sleeping places ; they lived like Plato's warriors, as in a fortress ; 

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Influence of Plato's Social Theories. 231 

their education from childhood was public ; even girls had to take 
part in physical training ; marriage was tinder the control of the 
State ; the strictest measures were enforced against all innovations ; 
foreign journeys were forbidden ; poets and teachers, whose influence 
they regarded as dangerous, were banished from the country ; a 
musician who ventured to increase the received number of strings on 
his lyre had the additional ones cut off. We see dearly that the 
institutions and principles which appear to us so astonishing in Plato 
were not then first heard of in Greece ; they have a connection with 
what already existed, and grew out of the received idea of the Greek 

No doubt Plato goes farther in this direction than any of his pre-* 
decessors. For instance, he seriously proposed arrangements for the 
community of property and of wives, which, hitherto, had never been 
heard of, except as a joke produced on the stage by Aristophanes, to 
exemplify the extreme of political folly ; yet even this may, in some 
degree, be explained by the circumstances of the time and the spirit 
of Plato's philosophy. For one thing, long and bitter experience 
had shown the Greeks, since the beginning of the Peloponnesian war, 
what dangers threatened the welfare of the State from the selfishness 
of individuals. Plato hoped to avert these dangers by striking at the 
root of all selfishness. He desired, by the entire abolition of private 
property, to remove the opposition between public and private 
interests. Union, he says, is the first necessity of the State, but com- 
plete union can only exist when no one possesses anything of his own. 
He thus committed the same political error into which Hobbes fell 
later, when he strove to resist the evils of revolution by unlimited 
despotism — one into which reactionary politicians continually do fall, 
by endeavouring to meet the struggle for liberty, not by satisfying 
all well-founded demands and rejecting the others, but by the sup- 
pression of all freedom ; with the important difference, certainly, 
that in Plato's State unlimited power was only to be bestowed on 
complete virtue and insight, and that the socialistic arrangements 
were combined with an education which was calculated to prevent 
any misuse of them, and to bring the most entire subjection of per- 
sonal freedom into harmony with free-will. Here Plato's speciality 
worked with his political principles, and this decided the form of his 
ideal State. The severe character of his arrangements arises 
originally from the idealistic dualism of his whole conception of the 
world. One who regards nothing as higher than general ideas, 
nothing as truly real except the species existing in itself, independent 
of individuals ; who looks on the world of the senses as only a corrupt 
form of the spiritual world ; who sees in individual character only 
limitation and disturbance, not the inevitable condition for the 

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232 The Contemporary Review. 

realization of the universal ; cannot logically allow, in practical any 
more than in other questions, any free development to individuals ; 
but must, instead, require of the individual to renounce all personal 
wishes, and, with unselfish devotion, to purify himself that he may 
become the simple instrument of universal laws — the means of 
expressing a general idea. A thinker of this kind will not attempt, 
in his ideal state, to reconcile the rights of individuals with those of 
the community, for in his eyes they possess no rights as such, and 
can only be allowed the choice between renouncing all personal 
interests and devoting themselves to the service of the community, 
or, if they do not desire this, of renouncing political rights and 
political action. Thus, the political and social arrangements follow 
naturally from the first principles of the system. To have failed to 
appreciate the importance of individual character — the endless variety 
and movement of real life — is the great error in both the metaphy- 
sical and the social theories of Plato, which has been sharply com- 
mented on by Aristotle. 

But this part of the question has been discussed elsewhere and by 
various persons, and on this point those who have examined Plato's 
social theories appear to have arrived at a general agreement. But less 
attention has as yet been paid to the influence which it has had on 
the theories and the circumstances of later times. My object now is 
to develop, in greater detail, the short notices of this subject which I 
have given elsewhere. 

The point which chiefly deserves attention in this relation is the 
remarkable similarity between the Platonic ideal State and the con- 
ceptions of Church and State which gradually took possession of the 
early Christian world. The essential vocation of the State, according 
to Plato, is to be an image of virtue and a support to it ; its highest 
object is to educate its citizens to virtue, and thus to happiness ; to 
direct their minds and their eyes towards a higher spiritual world ; 
to assure to them, after death, that happiness which, in the conclusion 
of the Republic, is represented in a grand general view as the object 
of all human endeavour. There is an obvious likeness between this 
and the " kingdom of God," of which the Christian Church is to be 
the earthly expression. The theoretical principles and the form of 
the two differ from each other, but their original idea is the same; 
in both the one aim is to form a moral community, a scheme of 
education the object of which is only completely realized in a future 
world. Plato even uses the expression that there can be no salvation 
for any State in which God does not direct the government. And as 
in Plato's State the government is to be vested in the philosophers, 
because they alone possess the highest truth, so, in the middle ages, 
the priests assume the same position ; and just as the soldiers are 

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Influence of Plato's Social Theories. 233 

associated with the philosophers as the instruments of their power, so, 
according to the ideas of the middle ages, it becomes the highest 
duty of the Christian warrior class, the knights and princes, to extend 
and to protect the Church, and to carry out the precepts which she 
delivers to them through the mouth of the priests. The three estates 
of the middle ages — the teachers, fighters, and workers — are pre- 
figured in Plato's State ; and the predominance of the first, which 
could indeed be only partially realized in fact, is equally decidedly 
claimed, by itself at least, and on the very same grounds as those 
which Plato adduces for the rule of the philosophers, namely, because 
they alone know the eternal laws by which States, like individuals, 
must be guided in order to carry out their highest vocation. The 
conditions, also, with which this high position of the teaching class is 
combined, are, in the Church of the middle ages, mostly the same as 
in our philosopher's State, only translated from the Greek into the 
Christian, for the very principle of community of property which 
Plato aims at, as the highest good for the State, is likewise the Chris- 
tian ideal ; and though it may be said truly that the chief idea in the 
Christian Church was that of renunciation and voluntary poverty, 
and in Plato's State that of the community of goods, yet the two 
theories very nearly approach each other, for Plato requires of his 
philosophers and warriors to confine themselves to the simplest manner 
of life, while the Christian Church could only enforce the poverty of 
the ecclesiastical class, as in the begging orders, by means of com- 
munity of goods. Even the Platonic community of wives is really 
in its spirit much nearer to celibacy than one would at first believe. 
For, first, the political objects of both are the same ; as Plato forbids 
his u watchmen " to found a family, in order that they may belong 
altogether and exclusively to the State, so did Gregory impose celibacy 
on his recalcitrant clergy, in order that for the future they might 
belong wholly to the Church ; and so also in Plato's community of 
women there arises no question of giving freer play to personal incli- 
nation, nor of breaking the chains of marriage ; on the contrary, 
personal wishes are to be laid aside, and the citizens are to act as 
instruments of the State in their marriage relations, as well as in all 
others. Marriage is not to be an affair of inclination or of interest, 
but only of duty ; children are the property of the State, and it is 
well that they should be the offspring of those from whom the State 
may expect powerful descendants. Thus Plato requires from his 
citizens a self-denial and subordination of themselves to the common 
interest, which is but a step removed from entire abstinence from 
marriage ; nor would he have hesitated to require this also if his 
State could have existed without marriage, and if the asceticisin of 
later times had entered into his system. 

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These are not mere empty resemblances, such as may easily occur 
between phenomena really entirely distinct, in consequence of chance 
coincidences, but there does exist a real connection, an action of the 
earlier philosophy upon the later. For, untrue as it would be to 
attribute to the Platonic theories a direct prescriptive influence on 
the forms of the Christian Church and State, it is yet impossible not 
to perceive a relation between the two, and we can to a great 
degree trace out the connecting links which have produced it. The 
doctrine of Plato was one of the most important elements of civiliza- 
tion in classical times ; it was a spiritual power whose effect extended 
far beyond the limits of the Platonic school. Among later systems, 
not only the Aristotelian, but the Stoic, imbibed its spirit, and the 
latter especially owes much of its morality to the ethics of Plato. 
In the centuries immediately before Christ, wherever the Greek 
language and literature extended both in the East and the West, philo- 
sophy had taken the place of religion among all cultivated persons, 
or else had so penetrated their conception of religion, that there 
remained hardly a shadow of the ancient myths : its essential con- 
clusions, and, above all, its mbral principles, had been adopted into 
the general civilization and the religion of the world. It needed not 
to be a philosopher by profession to share in this movement. All 
who wished for higher education visited the schools of the philo- 
sophers and read their writings. Grammarians also, rhetoricians, 
historians, even lawyers and physicians, were accustomed to adopt 
the doctrines of the philosophers, and to assume in their hearers a 
general acquaintance with them. Thus these ideas were diffused in 
a hundred different ways, and though they might lose in scientific 
accuracy and purity, their practical effect was immeasurably in- 
creased. Christianity, then beginning to gain ground, could not 
escape this influence, which reached it not only through the 
Platonizing theology of the Oriental Greeks or the Gnostic sects ; 
early Greek philosophy also had long since contributed its share of 
influence; and for centuries continued to affect the new religion 
in the most various ways, just as, indeed, did the Greek spirit 
generally, of which it was the noblest exponent. Jewish thought, 
even before Christ, was thoroughly coloured by Greek civilization 
and science. In all Greek countries millions of Jews — the greater 
part, indeed, of the Jewish nation — lived in countries which, as a 
general rule, were politically governed by Greeks or half Greeks ; 
and the intercourse of daily life, and the use of the Greek lan- 
guage, adopted by most nations in place of that of their ancestors, 
which they continued to employ only for their sacred writings, could 
not but insensibly spread among them many Greek ideas, more 
especially in the chief Greek cities inhabited by Jews, such as 

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Influence of Plato's Social Theories. 235 

Alexandria or Tarsus, the seat of a famous school of philosophy and 
rhetoric, such as was Rome in later times, not to mention others. 
Soon also the Jews began regularly to study the Greek philosophy ; 
and there arose a Jewish-Greek philosophy, the object of which was 
to infuse the ideas of Greek philosophy into Jewish theology, and 
bring the two into harmony. How far this movement had advanced 
even at the beginning of the Christian era; how many of the 
Platonic, Pythagorean, Stoic, and peripatetic doctrines had been 
adopted by this neologizing Judaism, we can see in the writings of 
Philo of Alexandria, who, in this respect, was only the most distin- 
guished exponent of a form of thought which was very widely 
received. The centre of this school was Alexandria, the great 
meeting-place where Greek thought crossed and melted into that of 
the East ; but it was not confined to this town, or even to Egypt, 
but had many followers among all the Greek-speaking Jews, and its 
influence must have reached even to Palestine and the countries of 
the East. In close connection with this school of theology we find 
the Jewish sect of the Essenes, which arose in the second century 
before Christ, the product, as it would seem, originally of the 
Pythagorean mysteries, and the asceticism connected with them, but 
which, through the gradual rise of a Neo-Pythagorean school of 
philosophy, had imbibed a form of thought more Platonic than 
Pythagorean. This sect, much diffused in Palestine and the neigh- 
bouring countries, was in many ways one of the most important 
channels by which Greek cultivation, and with it also the ethical 
and religious views of the Greek philosophers, passed into Judaism. 
We find in this sect, among other things, the principle of the com* 
munity of goods derived from Plato's ideal State, and under this 
rule the Essenes, forerunners of the Christian monks, lived together 
in cloistral communities. Essenism appears from its origin to have 
exercised great influence on the direction of the growth of the 
Christian doctrine; the party of the Ebionites, which comes out 
later as the only real advocate of the original Judaic Christianity, 
possesses all the characteristics of Essenism, and only differs from it 
in its acceptance of Jesus as the Messiah. Further, the man who 
first gained for Christianity its position as a religion of the world, 
the Apostle Paul, had doubtless, even before his own migration into 
the Greek world, been at least indirectly affected by the influence of 
Greek thought, for it is hardly possible to conceive that he could 
entirely escape this in Tarsus, his birthplace, and, indeed, a keen 
eye will observe the traces of it in his Epistles. Ajid when, chiefly 
through his influence, the Christian community was opened to the 
heathens, and more immediately to the Greeks, when they entered it 
in masses, and soon outnumbered the Jews by birth which it con- 

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236 *the Contemporary Review. 

tained, it became inevitable that Greek views should gain more and 
more acceptance. The new converts, who had not been instructed 
as children in Christianity, but had been won over in riper years, 
could not fail to conceive it from their own point of view, and to 
connect it with the ideas which they had always held ; and though 
many of them probably passed through the school of Jewish 
proselytism, there would at first be found among them but few 
highly-cultivated persons. The influence of Greek knowledge might 
indeed be diminished, but was far from being destroyed ; nay, the 
more persons of scientific cultivation joined the new faith, the more 
would the effect of this cultivation be continued and extended. 
Thus we find, in fact, even in the earliest Christian writings, 
even among the Church speakers in the second century, not a few 
who are nearly connected with the semi-Greek Alexandrian school ; 
and also among our own New Testament Scriptures there are several 
which show traces of this influence, and indirectly of that of Greek 
philosophy. How strongly this affected the growth of Christian 
doctrine and moral teaching is well known. The whole philosophy 
of the Fathers, and a great part of their theology and the whole of 
scholastic divinity, is but an attempt on a grand scale, carried on for 
centuries, to apply Greek philosophy to the development and the 
understanding of Christian doctrine. 

These facts must be clearly recognised, if we desire to estimate 
truly the influence of Platonism on Christianity, and also the con- 
nection of the Platonic system with what we find analogous to it in 
Christianity. Platonism, partly directly, partly through its connec- 
tion with the philosophy of the Stoics and Neo-Pythagoreans, took a 
leading part in that great process of the world's education which cul- 
minated in the Christian Church, and for centuries it was followed 
by the greatest teachers of the Christian Church, and by its natural 
affinity to Christianity was especially adapted to mediate between it 
and Hellenism. Plato was the first originator, or at least the most 
important representative, of the spiritualism which, though originally 
foreign not only to the Greeks, but the Jews, during the centuries 
immediately before Christ, gradually took possession of people's 
minds, and afterwards in Christianity itself became the leading in- 
fluence far and wide. Plato first declared that the visible world was 
only the image, and truly the imperfect image, of an invisible one ; 
that man has to pass from this world to another ; and that he ought 
to employ his present life as a preparation for a future one. He ori- 
ginated the ethical dualism which was to serve later on as a scientific 
justification for the ascetic principle existing already in the Oriental 
religions, in the Orphic system of mysteries. It is in this ethical 
system that is contained the essential principle of the special points 

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Influence of Plato's Social Theories. 237 

in which Plato's political system resembles the institutions of the 
Church and the State of the middle ages. In the one case it results 
in the government of the philosophers ; in the other, of the priests ; 
since both individuals and States, when they look to a future world 
for the supreme laws of their actions, must follow the lead of those to 
whom that higher world- is opened, whether by science or by revela- 
tion. Hence arises in the early Christian morality the requirement 
of a renunciation of the world, which finds its highest expression in 
monkish virtue ; in the Platonic morality it becomes the principle 
that man must renounce all personal objects to live only for the 
general good, the ignoring of the rights of individuals, and the sup- 
pression of their freedom. These ethical principles caused Plato to 
propose the same objects for his State which afterwards the Christian 
Church proposed to itself — to educate men morally and religiously, 
and to form them still more for the next world than for this. There- 
fore it is most natural that the two should coincide in many impor- 
tant characters. The moral view of the world, the essential principle 
of the Platonic State, developed itself later in the Christian Church, 
mingled with other elements : what wonder, then, that the same soil 
should produce similar fruits ? In many other points, also, our philo- 
sopher appears as a forerunner of Christianity, who net only 
smoothed the way for its reception externally among the Greeks, but 
also partially exemplified the course it must follow in its internal 
development. For instance, the pure and exalted conception of God, 
which is the crowning point of his system, was one of the most im- 
portant principles of the early Christian doctrine, as it had been 
formerly of the Jewish- Alexandrian ; the reform of the popular 
religion on which he insists in. the Republic, the abandoning all un- 
worthy notions of the divinity which it requires, was realized by 
Christianity. Christianity adopted into itself the moral spirit in 
which he desires that religion should be conceived ; the law of love 
towards your enemies, the very pearl of evangelical morality, we 
find already, in the germ, in Plato, and for the first time as a general 
principle, when he declares (in the Republic) that the just man will 
never do evil even to his enemy, for it does not become the good 
man to do aught but good. Any one who usually regards the Greeks 
as only heathens will be puzzled by such instances, which may easily 
be cited in numbers ; but to any one who takes a wide historical 
view, they do but give additional proof of the law of constant de- 
velopment in the progress of history. 

The political system of Plato stands in a far more distant relation 
to the present circumstances of the State and of society. On this 
point we can hardly speak of Plato's influence, except in as far as 
it was caused by his efforts in earlier times. The institutions of 

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238 The Contemporary Review. 

present ages have for the most part developed themselves indepen- 
dently out of the middle ages, as the result of given and existing 
needs, and political speculation has had, on the whole, but a small 
share in producing them. Tet it is but the more remarkable to 
find that Plato, in many of his plans, aims essentially at the same 
results which later times have called into existence in different ways, 
and mostly from different motives. Thus, as Socrates, in opposition 
to the Athenian democracy, had insisted that none but competent 
persons should be appointed to public offices, and possess a voice in 
public questions ; and Plato, as a logical application of this principle, 
desired to confide the government of States only to men of know- 
ledge ; so among us, too, in most countries, there is prescribed a 
scientific training for the service of the State, and the direction of 
the State has passed out of the hands of the feudal nobility into those 
of the new aristocracy of a scientifically-cultivated official class. 
And just as Plato desired to form a separate military order, so is 
it now deemed impossible to subsist without standing armies, and 
especially without an officer class specially educated for the purpose ; 
and the strongest reason for this is the one brought forward by 
Plato, that the art of war is an art like another, which no one 
thoroughly understands who has not learnt it as a business, and 
practised it as a profession. Further, when Plato, in connection 
with this, extends public education, in addition to music and 
gymnastics, the received subjects of education among the Greeks, 
to mathematics and philosophy, in a word, to all the knowledge of 
his age, so likewise this necessity has long since been recognised 
by modern States, by the foundation of scientific institutions of all 
kinds. Our philosopher, indeed, would scarcely be satisfied with 
our realization of his ideals ; he would find it difficult to recognise 
his philosophical rulers in the population of our Government offices, 
or to discover in our barracks the places where the warriors, pre- 
served, as he desires, from every breath of what is low and common, 
are educated to moral beauty and harmony; he would certainly 
inquire with astonishment, if he witnessed much that happens at 
our universities, if these are the fruits of philosophy ; and he would 
further have cause to wonder where the greater number, among the 
hundred special branches which occupy their time, find philosophy 
itself, the unity and combination of all science ; not to mention that 
of our four Faculties he would certainly strike out the first 
three ; for a theology which attempts to be anything more than 
philosophy he would call mythology ; and as regards jurisprudence 
and medicine, he believes that in his State no contests of law would 
arise, and that for sicknesses a few household drugs may suffice; 
and if these do not cure the patient, he must die quietly, satisfied 

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Influence of Plato 9 s Social 1 heortes. 239 

that it is not worth while to drag on his life in the care of a sickly 
body. But these differences do not make it the less true that he 
had placed before himself many of the objects which modern times 
have aimed at, though certainly in a quite different manner, and 
with other means. Thus, for instance, Plato's arrangements for the 
education and employment of the female sex are very much opposed to 
our ideas and customs. To us it appears singular to propose that 
women should fill public offices, or go out to battle with men, even 
though Only (as he once prudently adds) in the reserve ; and though 
gymnastics will always form a useful subject of instruction in female 
schools, yet we should justly object to the proposal of Plato that 
it should be practised as in Greece, in the same manner as among 
men. But in so far as he is one of the first to enter into the question 
of a careful education of the female sex, of its spiritual and moral 
culture, and its essential equality with the male sex, Plato goes far 
beyond the habits and views of his people, and approaches our own. 
There is a modern sound, too, in his suggestion of introducing a 
censorship of all poems, plays, pieces of music, and works of art, and 
of the proposal in his " Laws " to form on behalf of the State a 
collection of good writings and ballads, along with airs and dances, 
for the use of the citizens, and especially for the use of schools. Many 
similar cases might be quoted — as, for instance, his proposal for the 
introduction of a more humane military code — but this may suffice. 

Further, we must not overlook the connection between the Platonic 
conception and the political and social romances of which modern 
times have produced so great a number. All these political romances, 
from Sir Thomas More's " Utopia " to Cabot's "Icaria," are in their 
essence and form imitations of the Platonic Republic, and of his work 
called " Critias," which was intended to describe the state of the 
Republic in an historical form, but was never completed by Plato. In 
all these we find political ideals described with greater or less freedom, 
and recognise in all the well-known features of the Platonic type 
in greater or less completeness. Thus, in one we find the government 
carried on by philosophers and learned men ; in another, the abolition 
of family life and private property, the institution of community of 
dwellings, meals, work, education, here and there also of wives. 

But there is one essential difference which distinguishes them all 
in their innermost spirit from Plato's State. Plato's leading idea 
is, as we have said above, the realization of morality by means of the 
State: the State is to form its citizens to virtue. It is a grand 
educational institution, including the whole life and existence of its 
members. All else is subordinated to this one object ; all private 
interests are recklessly sacrificed to it ; the happiness and perfection 
of the whole alone concern him, says Plato ; and the individual 

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240 TAe Contemporary Review. 

must not assert himself further than comports with the beauty of the 
whole. He feels, therefore, not the slightest hesitation in making 
a caste-like inequality of classes, and an unconditional self-devotion 
of all its citizens the foundation of his State. In modern social 
romances, on the other hand, almost without exception, it is precisely 
the desire for general and equal partaking in the enjoyments of life 
which creates discontent with existing circumstances, and calls forth 
these ideal creations. Plato aims at suppressing all personal interests ; 
his modern followers at satisfying them ; the former seeks the perfec- 
tion of the whole, the latter the happiness of individuals ; the former 
regards the State as the object, the individual as a means ; the latter 
looks on individuals as the objects, and the State and society as 
means. Most of our socialists and communists declare this openly 
enough ; the greatest possible enjoyment for individuals, and there- 
fore equal enjoyment for all, is their motto. But even if some differ 
in their phraseology, their practical suggestions clearly show what is 
their real object ; as thus, if we speak of brotherhood (and this is to 
be supplied by communism), it is evident that the question is not so 
much the fulfilment of a duty as the satisfaction of a wish ; or even 
when they contend against the individualism of the time, as does 
St. Simon, the way to stem it is not to be found in the rehabilitation of 
the flesh. Everything is considered with a view to the happiness of 
individuals. Even Sir Thomas More, the father of all this species of 
literature in modern times, already held this doctrine, for he distinctly 
states pleasure to be the highest end of our actions ; and however 
much he may follow Plato as to the rest, his ethical principle is rather 
Epicurean than Platonic. Even a stern moral philosopher like Fichte 
lays down as the principle of his " geschlossenes Handelsstaat " 
(which is, with all its impracticability, perhaps the best, and certainly 
one of the most thoughtfully-considered of the socialist Utopias), that 
every one wishes to live as pleasantly as he can. I am very far from 
making this in itself a complaint against modern theories ; the point 
of view from which they start is in principle true and just, even if 
it does not contain the whole truth, and though by exaggeration it 
has often led to much that is wrong. However that may be, we do 
not attempt here to estimate the value of these theories, but to indi- 
cate their general tendency in order to throw light on their relation 
to the Republic of Plato. This is, in fine, the same which exists in 
general between our whole views of life as connected with the State 
and that of the Greeks. For the most essential difference lies far 
less in any varieties in the constitution than in the position which is 
attributed in the State to individuals to their rights and power of 
action. From our point of view we look on the State as built up 
from below ; the individuals come first, and the State arises from 

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Influence of Plato's Social Theories. 241 

their combining for the protection of their rights and the common 
advancement of their welfare. Thus individuals remain ultimately 
the objects of the life of the State ; we require of the State that it 
should give to the community of its individual subjects as much as 
possible of freedom, welfare, and education, and we never can be con- 
vinced that it can conduce to the perfection of the State as a whole, 
or that it is well in itself to sacrifice the real rights and interests of 
individuals to its own objects. To the Greek, on the contrary, the 
State is the first and most important thing, and the individual only a 
part of the community ; the sentiment of political life is so strong in 
him, and the idea of personality is thrown so much into the back- 
ground, that he can conceive of no existence worthy of a man except 
in the State ; he knows no higher employment than politics, nor any 
more absolute right than that of the whole over its parts. As Aris- 
totle says, the State in the nature of things existed before individuals. 
The individual, therefore, is only allowed the rights which belong to 
his position in the State ; there are, strictly speaking, no universal 
human rights, but only the rights of citizens, and however much the 
interests of individuals are interfered with by the State, as long as 
the interests of the State require it, they have no right to com- 
plain ; the State is the sole original possessor of rights, nor is the 
State bound to give its subjects a larger share than is required for 
the fulfilment of its own objects. Plato likewise adopts this posi- 
tion, and indeed pushes it to the farthest in his Republic. Still, 
on the other hand, he acknowledges that true virtue is only made 
possible by a real conviction, by the personal knowledge of indi- 
viduals ; that political excellence can only be achieved by a thorough 
intellectual comprehension ; that the ordinary and conventional virtue 
must be purified and confirmed by philosophy ; and therefore the 
corner-stone of his State is the philosophical training of the rulers, 
and all others are entirely excluded from any share of the govern- 
ment of the State. In this Plato evidently forsakes the ancient 
Greek point of view, which in other relations he upholds, and trans- 
fers the centre of gravity of political life to individuals, to their 
education, and their intellectual conviction. But it is impossible to 
him to adopt this course entirely ; the Greek spirit is yet too strong 
in himself and in his system. Thus he stands on the boundary-line 
of two ages, and while he himself labours with all his strength to 
bring forth a new form of civilization, he yet at the same time freely 
sacrifices to the spirit of his people all the personal interests which 
modern times insist upon. Thus we can but half understand him, 
if we only inquire into his effect on the age in which he lived ; the 
essence of his being, as it must be with all minds that strike into 
untrodden ways, belongs to the future. E. Zeller. 

vol. vn. R 

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SINCE, by the kindness of the editor of this journal, space was 
given in it for an account of the general results of the Local 
Examinations for girls held in December, 1865, the movement has 
gone on and prospered. In December, 1866, 197 girls presented 
themselves, of whom 18 obtained honours, and 108 ordinary certificates. 
If the number of those who gain honours seem small, it must be 
remembered that girls seldom attempt either the classical or mathe- 
matical papers, without which it is not easy to reach the honour lists. 
That they did well in such subjects as fell within their compass may 
be judged from the fact that 42 girls obtained marks of distinction. 
Many of the strongest adversaries to the scheme have come round, 
&nd now give it effective support. At Oxford, although the expected 
renewal of the proposal to admit girls to their examinations appears 
to have fallen through, we believe that it is looked upon with a more 
favourable eye, and will eventually be carried. At all events we do 
not believe that the rejection is due to fear of ridicule.* For in the 

* We think the writer of the review of Miss Davies's " Higher Education of Women," 
which appeared in Vol. iv. p. 286 of this journal, was mistaken in saying that the 
dread of banter nearly led to the rejection of the scheme at Cambridge. The present 
writer was on the spot, and took a good deal of pains to ascertain the grounds on which 
the opposition rested. As far as he could find out, it was in almost all cases due to 
doubts whether the admission of girls to public examinations would prove for their 
advantage. Where he has had the opportunity of inquiring the reason of change of 
opinion, the reply has invariably been that these doubts have been removed by the 
efficiency of the checks and safeguards provided against possible evils. 

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On the Education oj Women. 243 

course of the last two or three years public opinion has so far gone 
in the right direction that the claims of women to consideration are 
everywhere listened to with respect. Even newspaper writers, almost 
always the last to use a manly tone towards women, have begun to 
see that men like the polished and gentlemanlike essayist who talks 
of " fillies entered for the matrimonial stakes of the season " had 
better hold their tongues. We apprehend, therefore, that there must 
be weightier reasons than this to hold Oxford back — reasons such as, 
while we may think them mistaken, command our respect. 

Yet notwithstanding some favourable signs in the horizon, no man 
who has any regard for the welfare of his kind can look on the con- 
dition of women in general without some very sad forebodings. To 
carry our eyes no farther than our own shores, there is much in the 
condition of Englishwomen which ought to be distressing and 
humiliating to men. If great efforts have been made of late years 
to lessen some of the cruellest of their wrongs, others even more 
formidable seem to spring up in their place. Among these we can- 
not help classing the growing carelessness with which women appear 
to treat unchastity in men. If it be true, for we certainly did 
not see it with our own eyes, that a few months ago a peer of exalted 
rank brought a woman of bad character to the Opera, and left her 
side to go and speak to honest women occupying a box within full 
view of that in which she was sitting, we venture to call it a 
sign of the times of no ordinary import. It is, at least, undeniable 
that women, young and maiden, are not only aware but speak openly 
of base connexions formed by their male acquaintance, or by men 
of notoriety in the world, with an absence of reticence, if not of 
ignorance, heretofore in our time unknown. Be it remembered that 
in saying this we are finding fault not with women, but men. 
When women are placed in the midst of a profligate male society 
their choice lies between solitude and the knowledge, even the con- 
donation, of much that is revolting to their minds. With this 
alternative before them, who can wonder if nature carries the day P 
Then the inequality of numbers of the sexes is a daily increasing 
element of misery. Great throughout the country, it is in some dis- 
tricts enormous. We know of one in which the proportion of women 
to men was, at the last census, as 126-5 to 100. The story is every- 
where the same — the men emigrate, the women stay at home. The 
bare figures show the existence of great distress among women. 
A close examination would, we are convinced, largely raise our esti- 
mate of it. For we believe that the overplus would be found to be 
far greater in the class of those whom, for want of a better term of 
distinction, we will call ladies, than any other — precisely that where 
maintenance by their own labour is most difficult to find. Probably 

R 2 

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244 ^k Contemporary Review. 

nothing at this moment would work such wide and lasting good to the 
human race as a scheme sufficiently well organized to overcome the 
natural reluctance of women to leave home and country, and calcu- 
lated to induce well-educated ladies to seek new hearths in those dis- 
tant, yet sunny and fertile, lands, where their presence would of all 
blessings be most welcome. Other evils there are specially affecting 
women, too conspicuous and notorious to need recapitulation. Any 
day's Times will place them with terrible clearness before the eyes of 
the most hasty reader. Let us pass rather to the subject which stands 
at the head of this paper, not indeed with any vain hope of finding 
a panacea for the evil of our day, but with an expectation, we 
trust well founded, of finding a way to render some useful help. 

In speaking of the education of women we are met with a diffi- 
culty, raised by some of themselves, which we certainly should not 
have anticipated. No doubt the great end of all education, whether 
of boys or girls, is best stated in the words of the catechism, 
" that they may do their duty in that state of life to which it hath 
pleased God to call them." But a part even of their duty to God 
is to get their own living in the world in which He has placed them. 
In speaking of education, this temporal part of it is not only kept 
in view, but, on ordinary occasions, naturally and necessarily occu- 
pies the foremost place. It by no means follows from this that it 
occupies the foremost place in the care and thought of the speaker. 
The Scotch saying, " the mair kirks the mair sin/' is true in a good 
many ways. There are times, no doubt, when the highest view of 
education should be earnestly and fervently pressed. But under 
ordinary circumstances we should have far more faith in a father 
who, having many sons, talked of bringing them up to be lawyers, 
soldiers, merchants, than one whose speeches always ended up with 
God and their country. We do not love these perpetual protesta- 
tions. In speaking then of the education of boys, we should be 
content, except on very fit occasions, to talk of bringing them up to 
some temporal calling, no matter what. Just so, as the days are 
happily not yet comfe in which many girls start in life with the ex- 
pectation of supporting themselves in perpetual maidenhood, or of 
having not only to bear, but find bread for, their children, we should 
talk of bringing up girls to be good wives and mothers, being quite 
certain that this implies the right way of teaching a girl how to do 
her duty to God and man, even though she never become either one 
or the other. But if women who write fairly represent the feelings 
of their sex, this way of talking displeases them. Thus one lady 
exclaims — 

" I do not believe that women are to be ' educated to be wives and 
mothers ' in any sense in which it is not equally imperative to educate boys 

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On the Education of Women. 245 

to be husbands and fathers. I believe that each human being, developed to 
his or her best and utmost, will most perfectly fulfil the duties that God may 
appoint in each case, and, if teachers and parents have ever before their eyes 
the aim of making good, true, and sensible women, I do not fear but they 
will also train the best wives and mothers." 

Nobody doubts it. But we repeat that one may be just as con- 
scious of this truth as the writer of those words, and yet talk of 
bringing up girls to be good wives and mothers, and boys not indeed 
to be good husbands and fathers, but good lawyers, doctors, officers, 
tradesmen, and what not. She does not observe that people who use 
these phrases have in view at the time only the temporal ends of educa- 
tion; that is, in the plain phrase of the liturgy, how boys and girls 
may learn and labour truly to get their own living. Now boys 
seldom get their living by becoming husbands and fathers, while 
women do commonly owe theirs to being wives and mothers. The 
home cares which these words represent are the return they make- 
surely a most honourable one — for the bread their husbands go 
abroad to win. If such cares are the counterpart of the out-o'-door 
callings of men, we do not see how it can be wrong, in speaking of 
the temporal side of girls' education, to press its fitness for the future 
discharge of those cares. We should have passed over the matter 
in silence, content to use our own discretion in treating of the subject 
in hand, were it altogether indifferent. But it is not so. For it is 
quite possible, and very often happens, that the frequent or untimely 
expression of one's inner thoughts on a matter of this kind may sink 
into mere buncombe — one of the most mischievous forms of the 
breach of the third commandment. It is akin to the error Hooker 
pointed out in the Puritans, who would have had men not pick up 
a straw but in God's name, and is capable of doing a good deal of 

Indeed, the monstrous rubbish which has been written about the 
position and education, as well as the social and political dependence 
of women, forms one of the greatest difficulties which those who 
would fain improve their condition have to encounter. Right or 
wrong, the fact is that, as things are, such improvement cannot be 
achieved without the consent and active help of men. Now very 
few men, it is certain, are at heart indifferent to. the welfare of their 
sisters. But they mostly have much to do, and cannot go deeply 
into the question. The one thing they know for certain about it is 
that, unless managed with great care and judgment, our attempts at 
improvement may do infinitely more harm than good. It is no won- 
der then if, when they read the wild discourses of some lady writers, 
they hold back in alarm. Some of these writers, we are told, have 
gone so far as to denounce the bond of marriage as a piece of mas* 

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246 7*Ae Contemporary Review. 

online tyranny. Unfortunately unbridled talk of this kind is biased 
everywhere abroad by the idle gossip of society, while the voice of 
sense and reason is comparatively little heard. Take as an example 
the question of the franchise. The sort of talk which men com- 
monly hear about it is pretty fairly represented by such words as 
these: — 

" The assertion that married women are not taxed can only mean that 
they do not possess property. Then the argument amounts to this — the 
law made by man arbitrarily withholds from woman the power of possess- 
ing property : those should not be represented who do not possess pro- 
perty ; therefore married women should not be represented." 

A man reading this, and knowing that married women by help 
of the law can, and very often do, possess property, and that such 
property is taxed, and that therefore nobody with a head on his 
shoulders could ever have made any such assertion, very naturally 
cries " Stuff," and flings the book aside.* Wrong, perhaps, but he 
does. For as there are, unhappily, but six or eight working hours 
in the day, a man cannot fully inform himself on every subject, and 
must leave a good many — no unimportant ones either — to take care 
of themselves. We entertain no doubt, however, that whatever 
plans or changes can be shown to be for the clear and certain ad- 
vantage of women, and are temperately and fairly placed before 
the minds of such men as have it in their power to promote them, 
will, in the long run, be carried, and in the faith of this, notwith- 
standing some discouragements, it is safe to go forward. 

On the other hand, it must be owned that if women have given 
way to foolish talk about what they conceive to be women's rights, 
there has been talk equally foolish and much more abounding 
on the part of men concerning what they conceive to be women's 
duties. When we read Miss Davies's citations of what men say about 
women (" Higher Education of Women," pp. 24 — 34), we scarcely 
wonder at the dash of bitterness which flavours her two opening 
chapters. Yet, with the words of Shakspeare and Tennyson in her 
ears, Miss Davies might well have condescended to treat "Jane" 
and the other fry as Queen Elizabeth did the bearward's petition — 
silently drop them into Lethe, f It should be borne in mind, too, 

* Would it not be possible to circulate, in a separate form, Mrs. Boucherett's paper 
on the " Condition of Women in Fiance " {Contemporary Revmo, May, 1867), which con- 
tains some instructive, and, in view of our leap into the dark of ochlocracy, most con- 
vincing remarks on the ruinous consequences to women of semi-universal suffrage P 

f We must express our regret that in speaking of those who let the " conception of 
character which rests on the broad basis of a common humanity fall into the back- 
ground, and substitute for it a dual theory with distinctly different forms of male and 
female excellence/' Hiss Davies should go on to say, " Closely connected with these 
separatist doctrines is the double moral code, with its masculine and feminine virtaes, 

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On the Education of Women. 247 

that the subject involves some peculiar difficulties, particularly in 
regard to education. Men can manage their own political, social, 
and educational afiairs without appealing to women; but women 
cannot stir a step without invoking the counsel and guidance of men. 
Not a single book or paper that has been written, in the various dis- 
cussions of the day, on any subject connected with the welfare of 
women, fails to acknowledge this explicitly or implicitly in almost 
every page ; so that in matters of themselves sufficiently difficult to 
deal with prudently, we have the added difficulty of difference of sex. 
However careful we may be to keep a firm footing on the " broad 
basis of common humanity" in our reasonings, depend upon it this 
will be always found a seriously disturbing element. In education, 
above all, it is a hard matter to keep a right course. The wisest and 
most prudent men find it far from easy to educate boys successfully. 
How often have the most earnest and honest teachers cause to wring 
their hands in grief at the evil fruit that springs up from what 
they had vainly hoped to be good seed scattered on good ground ! 
Yet in dealing with boys men know tolerably well the nature of the 
material they have in hand. Not so with girls. Only a woman can 
enter thoroughly into a girl's heart. The position, therefore, in 
which men are placed in regard to the education of women is this, 
that they must be something more than merely interested lookers-on, 
and mnst not merely lend it the aid of thought and advice, but take 
some active share in it, yet to a great extent be working in the dark, 
and have many reasons for wariness which may be neglected in 
handling boys. Probably, if it were possible, the best thing men 
could do would be to take no personal share in the business, to pro- 
vide women with schools and colleges fit for the education of their 
daughters, officer them with cultivated ladies equal in position and 
acquirements to professors and tutors in the Universities, and leave 

and iU separate law of duty and honour for either sex." Where is this double moral 
code to be found ? A man may very well broach " certain doctrines — such as that the man 
is intended for the world, woman for the home ; man's strength is in the head, woman's 
in the heart," &c. — without being guilty of any error greater than that of expressing 
some very obvious truths in a somewhat exaggerated form, and certainly without the 
least propensity to advocating a "double moral code." Indeed, whatever may be the 
errors of modern practice, there are now-a-days very few men who think at all who 
would not vigorously reiterate the old paradoxical advice, "let men be chaste and 
women brave." Bnt this is the only fault we have to find with Miss Davies's book, 
which seems to us calculated to do very great good, and we wish it may find its 
way into every household where there are sons and daughters. In particular we wish 
young men could be induced to read it Indifference to the society of women is one 
of the most repulsive faults of the young men of the day. They rarely seem to think 
it any part of their duty to give up the employment, or even the whim, of the moment, 
for the help or entertainment of mother and sisters and their companions. Yet surely 
if it is part of women's business in the world to please men, it is quite as much a 
part of men's to please women. 

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248 7Ae Contemporary Revtew. 

them to themselves. But it is useless to shadow forth such a scheme 
unless for Utopia. 

It seems to us, then, that the wisest course men can pursue is to 
see what has been done in other times, or is now doing in other 
countries, in educating girls : above all, to examine what are the 
demands of women themselves. After all, they must know best what 
is good for them, and as the feverish activity of the press now-a-days 
gives everybody a chance of being heard, there can be no difficulty in 
finding out what they wish, nor much, probably, in sifting out the 
chaff from what is reasonable and likely to be of service. 

In our former paper on the subject we tried to show that the 
education of women must have been an object of careful solicitude to 
the wisest men in all ages. We did not succeed, however, in tracing 
the method they used, or caused to be used, nor do we believe it to 
be now possible to do so. We can only infer the fact from the illus- 
trious history of women. But past ages have certainly not left us in 
the dark as to the ideal we are to work up to. Miss Davies makes a 
timely appeal to Scripture and the teaching of the Churches of 
England and Scotland on this head : — 

" People," she says, " who go to church, and who read their Bibles, are 
perpetually reminded of one type and exemplar, one moral law. The theory 
of education of our English Church recognises no distinction of sex. The 
baptized child is signed with the sign of the cross, in token that hereafter 
he — or she — shall not be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, 
and manfully to fight under his banner against sin, the world, and the devil ; 
and to continue Christ's faithful soldier and servant to his— or her — life's 

end The Shorter Catechism [Scotch] teaches that God created man, 

male and female, after his own image, in knowledge, righteousness, and 
holiness, with dominion over the creatures, and that man's chief end is to 
glorify God, and to enjoy Him for ever." 

) The women, too, who live for us in the pages of Scripture com- 
pletely bear out the theory of the essential equality of both sexes of 
the human race. Miriam, Hannah, Elizabeth, had as clear and proper 
a share in carrying out the counsels of God as Moses, Samuel, and 
the Baptist. The value of the crowning example of Mary is lost 
through the uncomely figment of her married virginity dissociating 
her in people's minds from the rest of her sex. The part they play 
is not subordinate to, but different from, that of men. It is, by 
comparison, not indeed secluded — for they lived lives open for all 
the world to see — but sedentary and silent, for they rarely left their 
homes, or gave voice in song or prayer to the thoughts of their 
hearts. What is more than all, the life of our Lord is in every 
single particular, except his public preaching, a model for women 
quite as much as for men. Nor does He anywhere give the least 
hint that their obedience and agency are of less importance to his work 

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On the Education of Women. 249 

than that of the other sex. Indeed, we find Him frequently taking 
opportunities of noticing their presence and assuring them, mostly 
by acts rather than words, of his equal solicitude for their temporal 
and spiritual welfare, as well as indicating to them what they were 
to do for Him. It is plain from many passages in the New Testament 
that his immediate followers and the first preachers of his Gospel 
regarded the agency of women as a necessary part of the Christian 
ministry. It must be owned that the Church of Borne has never 
lost sight of this truth, and in trying to reintroduce women into the 
ministry of the Church of England, the most Protestant of us are 
forced to turn our eyes Homeward for guidance. If we turn to the 
annals of heathendom, women are found side by side with men 
wherever they sought to keep alive a spark of judgment, mercy, or 
truth. Women, therefore, bear the stamp of God's image to the full 
as clearly as men ; and if any one ask for an ideal of feminine excel- 
lence, we need only refer him to that image seen in perfection, that 
is to say, to the Man Christ Jesus. 

If, then, the past does not give much help towards the methods of 
educating women, it does us the great service of showing us a standard 
to work up to. Whatever may be the difference in their physical 
and intellectual powers and functions, our object must be to place 
them as moral and spiritual beings on perfect equality with men. 
With this explicit statement of our views we shall leave this part of 
the subject, not wishing to meddle with that highest department of 
education which goes on at home and in church. But if, in speaking 
of the physical and intellectual training of girls, we confine ourselves 
to temporal matters, we hope it will be understood that we do not 
forget the important influence this training has on their moral and 
spiritual development* 

With regard to the physical training of girls, we believe England 
has little or nothing to learn from other countries. Nowhere are 
they placed, as far as their bodily strength permits it, on such a per- 
fect footing of equality with men ; nowhere, again, are greater pains 
taken to keep them from overtaxing that bodily strength. Custom 
allows Englishwomen more freedom in out-door exercises than is 
granted to those of any other country. They walk, ride, drive, dance, 
play games, both like and with their brothers. In this respect, at 
any rate, the restraints of conventional decorum are in England only 
such as nature would impose. These being observed — and provided 
she does not attempt exercises which demand too severe a tension of 
her muscles; that is to say, if she will content herself, for example, with 
croquet and archery, leaving guns and cricket bats to the stronger 
sex, and if she will not ride after the hounds without father, brother, 
or husband to attend her — an English lady may enjoy sun and air 

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250 The Contemporary Review. 

much as she pleases. On the other hand, in 110 country has the 
legislature so honestly and diligently sought to defend women and 
children against the cruelty of men, especially against oppression on 
the part of the employers of labour. Scarcely a session has passed by for 
many years without some law being enacted for their protection in 
this particular. At this very time a commission is on foot with, a 
view to legislation on the subject of agricultural gangs. We must say 
we think this part of the question is too much lost sight of by ladies 
who are prominent as champions of their sex. Their writings are 
little else than bills of complaint from the first to the last page. They 
speak, for the most part, as if women were deliberately oppressed by 
men through a selfish fear of being outstript or even driven altogether 
out of the field. That this is nowhere the case we are not pre- 
pared to say ; we fear that it is conspicuously so in France at this 
moment. But as far as England and America are concerned, we do 
emphatically deny it. Whatever restraints or disabilities are in 
these countries maintained or newly imposed, we believe to be due, 
almost without exception, to a desire to do what is best for women. No 
doubt some of them may be mistaken, or rather imperfectly attain their 
object. But that is only saying they are human, and nothing appears 
to our mind more alarming in the excited outcry for reform we hear 
cm all sides, especially in respect of education, than the apparent un- 
willingness to acknowledge the inevitable errors and shortcomings of 
all human schemes. On the whole, we repeat that English law and 
custom are favourable to women. Take, for example, the laws affect- 
ing marriage. Keeping within that over-care which, as in France, 
defeats its own object by imposing an intolerable yoke, they yet 
shield women as far as possible from the dangers of haste and inex- 
perience until they are old enough to take care of themselves. That, 
for all this, there should be ample scope for cruelty, oppression, and 
wrong in the relations of men to women is inevitable. Laws can do 
very little in that or any other department of human affairs ; least of 
all can they hinder the bitter fruits of unbridled folly and passion, 
nurtured by bad homes and profligate society. It is as much as can 
be looked for if they protect those who are willing to be protected. 
Certainly, as far as the physical well-being of women is concerned, 
the temper of the English, and, as far as we know, of the American 
legislature has been at once kind and prudent — desirous, on the one 
hand, to protect them as the weak against the strong, and, on the 
other hand, not to carry that protection so far as to turn it into 

However, the real battle-field is on the ground of intellectual 
training. Here, no doubt, women have a good deal of reason to 
complain. For many years past, except in the highest ranks of 

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On the Education of Women. 25 1 

society and a few enlightened households in humbler life, very little 
care or thought has been vouchsafed to the education of daughters. 
How far we have strayed in this respect from the path of our 
ancestors is well indicated where we should perhaps least expect to 
find it — namely, in farmhouses. Farmers assuredly are not given to 
innovation. In many, perhaps most, parts of the country, they go 
on much as their great-grandfathers did. Even railroads do not 
tempt them to travel much farther than to market.* Now fanners 
almost always spend more money on the bringing up of their daughters 
than of their sons. Often the girls are sent " to boarding-school," as 
the goodwife will tell one with no little pride, while the boys pay the 
quarterly crown, instead of the weekly twopence of labourers children, 
to him of the village. Very often, it is to be feared, the girls do not 
bring much home from their boarding-school beyond a smattering of 
showy accomplishments. But that is not the farmer's fault. Give 
him a good school to send his girls to, and he is not such a fool 
as to prefer a bad one. True, he is not often a good judge of results, 
and will perhaps, at first, be inclined to like the tinsel better than 
the pure gold, but his eyes will soon be opened to the truth. How- 
ever, this is not to our present purpose. What we desire to remark 
is ihat the farmer, in trying to educate his girls, is probably doing 
what his forefathers have done for years, perhaps centuries past. 
Clergy, again — likewise apt to be staunch adherents to old customs 
and ways — often take great pains in teaching their daughters. Many 
of them are among the most earnest and efficient supporters of the 
local examinations. It is fair, however, to add that clergy, in matters 
where they can see their way to useful results, are, in a multitude of 
cases, the most eager innovators. Indeed, nothing can be more mis- 
taken than the common habit of massing together the clergy as 
taking any particular line on any question. In most secular, and 
more theological discussions than laymen imagine, they are exceed- 
ingly independent of each other. Still, when Mr. Trollope makes 
Mr. Crawley teach his daughters Latin, Greek, and mathematics, he 
is true to the life of many a secluded English parsonage, whither 
newspapers and reviews or modern opinions in any shape rarely find 
their way. So that on the whole we have rather gone back than 

* For instance, in the summer of 1864, on a visit at a country parsonage, we chanced 
to be at a loss about the time a particular train was to start, and went to the house of a 
neighbour to borrow a Brad&Juxtc. One was forthwith hunted up and produced — dated 
1848 ! We saw the good folks were so utterly unconscious of the absurdity that we 
made no remark, pretended to consult it, and wished them good morning. Now, the man 
was a farmer of large inherited substance, and holding a farm of many hundred acres 
in superb condition. Indeed, his name alone would convince most readers that he stood 
in the foremost rank of agriculturists. But he had bought a BracUhaw on his wedding 
trip, and had never had occasion for one since. 

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252 TAe Contemporary Review. 

forward. Not that the point is of much consequence, except to con- 
vince some that the doctrine that girls should be taught as well as 
boys is at all events not new-fangled. The fact remains, that at this 
moment few English girls get anything like the same measure of 
pains and cost bestowed on their education that is laid out on that of 
their brothers, and that those who desire to change, and, as they 
believe, amend this state of things, encounter very considerable oppo- 
sition. We must own, however, that, as we have already hinted, this 
opposition is becoming daily more insignificant. Were it possible to 
search into it thoroughly, we believe that most frequently, and espe- 
cially where it is loudest, it proceeds either from teachers who have 
no great reason to be confident in the results of their teaching, or 
parents who are not disposed to encounter the expense of giving 
their daughters a sound education. We should be inclined to treat 
both these classes with some tenderness. Ladies who entered the 
profession of teaching with old-fashioned views of what was sufficient 
for girls to learn must find it hard to encounter a changed world. 
Again, while it is every day easier to make a certain amount of social 
display, it is growing harder and harder for people in modest cir- 
cumstances to do well by their children. So we do not care if the 
change comes slowly, provided it come well. Indeed, we know not 
whether we ought not to be grateful to the opposition which enforces 
slow progress ; for it is very far from easy to lay down what is the 
best course to adopt to secure the improvement we desire. 

Certainly, we venture to think that the University of Cambridge, 
in extending the Local Examinations to girls, took what was for 
them the best possible first step. It matches them with boys, spreads 
a large field of study before them, while, at the same time, it com- 
pletely screens them from publicity ; and should it be found not to 
answer, it can be withdrawn without the smallest loss or injury to any 
one. The public are, perhaps, not generally aware how ample that 
field is. Every student is required to satisfy the examiners in read- 
ing aloud, spelling, writing, the rudiments of arithmetic, grammar, 
geography, English history, and, except in case of a written objection 
sent in by parents or guardians, of the Christian faith. How great 
an improvement has been achieved in these elements of knowledge 
may be in some degree estimated from the single fact that whereas 
in 1858 about 10 per cent, of the whole number of candidates (then 
boys only) were rejected by the examiners in arithmetic alone, in 1865 
scarcely more than 1 per cent, failed in that subject. Then follow a 
number of sections out of which each student must choose two or three, 
and is forbidden to attempt more than five or six. These include more 
advanced papers in the preliminary subjects, English composition, 
Latin, Greek, French, German, pure mathematics, mechanics, che- 

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On the Education of Women. 253 

mistry, zoology, botany, geology, heat, magnetism, electricity, music, 
geometrical drawing, drawing from the flat, from models, in perspec- 
tive, and imitative colouring. Let us add, for the benefit of that 
ignorant part of the public which loves to be called practical, that the 
art of land surveying belongs to trigonometry, which is included 
under pure mathematics, and that engineers are taught by mechanics 
or applied mathematics how to measure and use forces, and we think 
Mr. Ewart himself would scarcely find any subject to add to this list. 

The distinguishing characteristics of the girls' work, as compared 
with the boys 9 , are narrowness of range and goodness of quality. 
Last year few of them took in the full number of sections allowed, 
while 21*3 per cent, of them, against 13*3 per cent, of the boys, 
obtained marks of distinction in one or more subjects. Now exa- 
miners are instructed for the Syndicate to award such marks 
" not for comparative merit shown by one candidate with respect to 
another, but for really sound knowledge of the subject, so far as the 
examination tests it." 

It should be remarked, however, that at present only picked girls 
are, as a rule, sent in, while many schoolmasters send up boys in 
whole classes — a practice excellent from many points of view, and 
from none more than as showing that they take equal pains with all 
their scholars. In English, French, and German the girls, as might 
be expected, were signally successful. Few attempted Latin and 
Greek. We looked with some curiosity to the result ; for we never 
could see any d priori reason why girls should not learn these tongues. 
Women, we apprehend, contributed their share towards forming them, 
and millions upon millions of women spoke them in their day. The 
New Testament is addressed to women as much as to men, and it is 
of no less advantage to them to read it in the language in which it 
was written. The point seems to us one purely of taste and expe- 
diency. In 1865 no girl tried Greek, but twelve took up Latin. In 
1866 Greek was attempted by three, Latin by fifteen girls. The judg- 
ment of the examiners is in general that they show a very fair appre- 
ciation of a work they have read, and can translate it into very good 
idiomatic English ; but that they fail in grammar, and in translating 
passages they have not seen before. In 1865 mathematics were tried 
by six girls, in 1866 by fifteen, with no great success, one senior girl 
excepted, who did singularly well.* Several did well in music, and a 
few in drawing. Contrary to our expectation, the natural sciences, 
in particular botany, do not seem attractive to girls any more than 
to boys, who as a general rule appear to hate them. We quite side 
with those who think this a pity, but it is a fact. We admit that the 

* She neatly cleared the taper on Applied Matkmitics, getting full marks for every 
question she attempted. 

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254 ¥fo Contemporary Review. 

scheme has been in working too short a time to allow of any certain 
conclusions being drawn, but present results, so far as they go, incline 
us to think that there is no reason for shutting against girls any door 
of knowledge which is open to boys. 

A further question arises on which there will probably be a very 
great difference of opinion. This is whether, in learning, boys and 
girls must be kept separate, or may work together in classes. Many 
persons will probably say that they ought not even to occupy separate 
rooms in the same building, but should be placed in different schools at 
least some furlongs apart.* Others may think that nature, as expressed 
in the homely Lancashire proverb, "Classes always coom where 
t'lads are," may, after all, not be a bad guide; and that a boy 
may grow up none the worse man for having sat side by side with a 
girl at his lesson. Perhaps it is a question on which it will be safest 
to appeal to experience for a decision. 

In former days there appears to have been no unwillingness to allow 
boys and girls to work together. Most of the old foundation schools 
seem to have been established for the benefit of the children of the 
parish without distinction of sex. In a great many of them this lias 
survived nearly, if not quite, to the present hour, only they are no 
longer frequented by the families of the parson or the squire. Bnt 
a generation or two back, when in the remoter parts of the country 
travelling was costly and irksome, the little village school, endowed 
with its twenty, thirty, fifty acres of land — often, and very properly, 
an adjunct to the cure of souls — received within its walls all the 
young fry of the parish alike. If we are not mistaken, the school of 
a little village in Norfolk reckons Sir Robert Walpole among its past 
alumni. Within our own remembrance an earl of exalted lineage 
sent his children to the school of the parish in which he lived. 
In one school of some consideration the practice of teaching boys 
and girls together still survives. We refer to Rivington School, 
attached to St. John's College, Cambridge. The " captain " of 
Rivington School, we were told by a fellow of that college who 
was lately sent to examine it, proved to be a girl of sixteen. Next 
came a boy between fourteen and fifteen, then a girl again, and 
so forth. He discovered nothing which would lead him to desire 
a change ; on the contrary, he appeared to think the plan worked 
extremely well. In Scotland, if we are not mistaken, it is the ordi- 
nary rule. Cambridge has been applied to in two successive 

* A boy who sent up an English essay in the Local Examination of 1865 informed 
the examiner that "Mr. A's (his master's) school was next door to Mira B'0," and 
added that " had they been farther apart, the irnnaUa 0/ both ktuaea might ton 60m 
spared many scrapes." Let not, however, the separatists regard this as telling entirely 
in their favour. It might vary well be argued that had boys and girls been taught 
together, they would not have sought forbidden communications. » 

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On the Education of Women. 255 

years to send examiners to a great Scotch college — the Dollar 
Institution, near Stirling — attended by more than fire hundred boys 
and girls. The examiners speak highly of the school, and find no 
fault with the system of bringing boys and girls together. But it 
is to America that we must look for the widest induction of examples 
and the fullest information ; for in the United States not only are 
there a great number of schools and colleges of long standing for 
both sexes, but they have been lately visited and fully reported on 
by two independent observers. Mr. Fraser, sent by the Schools 
Inquiry Commission, visited many schools in the United States in the 
summer of 1865. Miss Sophia Jex Blake did the same in the autumn 
of the same year. Mr. Fraser's Report has been printed by the Com- 
missioners, and Miss Jex Blake has written a narrative of her trip 
in a small volume published by Messrs. Macmillan. Both give very 
ample accounts of various schools they visited ; both, it is clear, had 
thoroughly divested themselves of any prejudice against the bringing 
boys and girls together at school ; both, after producing such facts 
and arguments on the subject as were presented to their minds in 
the course of their respective journeys, review them at the close of 
their work. Neither ventures to give a very decided opinion. MLss 
Blake says : — 

" With regard to the joint education of the sexes, I have endeavoured 
simply to ascertain facts, and am by no means sure of the existence of 
sufficient data whereon to found a just conclusion." 

But she appears to be inclined, on the whole, to look on it with 
favour. Thus we read : — 

" As boys and girls have to live together in the family, and men and 
women in the world at large, it certainly seems that they ought to be able 
to pursue their common studies together ; and perhaps, if they did so, a 
much more healthy mutual relation would result than now exists.'* 

The American teachers, whose opinions she had the opportunity of 
learning, appear to entertain no doubts on the question. One ground 
on which they found their judgment is, we apprehend, invincible — 
namely, that where provision for educating both sexes together is 
not made, the girls will go to the wall. But they support it on the 
further ground of its being to the advantage of both sexes. Thus 
Professor Fairchild, of Oberlin, as quoted by Miss Blake, says : — 

" That society is most happy which conforms most strictly to the order 
of nature as indicated in the family relation, where brother and sister 
mutually elevate and restrain each other. ... A school for young men 
becomes a. community in itself, with its own standard of morality and its 
laws of honour ; but in a college for both sexes the student will find a public 
sentiment not so lenient as that of a community of associates needing the 
same indulgence." 

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256 The Contemporary Review. 

Miss Blake further tells us that the professor, speaking of the sup- 
posed danger of hasty attachments and marriages which may arise, 
remarks that — 

" There is something in the association of every- day life which appeals 
to the judgment rather than to the fancy, and that weeks and months of 
steady labour over the same problems, or at the same sciences, will not be 
more likely to create romances than casual meetings at fetes and bails." 

We own there appears to us a good deal of force in these argu- 
ments. Let us see what Mr. Fraser says : — 

" Very high authorities, founding themselves upon experience, maintain 
without hesitation or reserve the advantages of the system as it stands. 
That it has certain very manifest advantages I am not prepared to deny ; 
but as all results are but a balance of opposites, there are certain as manifest 
disadvantages which have to be reckoned and considered too. And there 
are high authorities on the other side. The great Athenian statesman, the 
great Christian teacher, appear to have formed different conceptions of a 
woman's proper sphere in life ; and it is probable, therefore, that they would 
have formed different conceptions of the proper training of a girl. Even the 
French philosophical thinker (De Tocqueville) admits that ' such an educa- 
tion is not without danger, and has a tendency to produce moral and cold 
women rather than tender and amiable wives.' And it may well be doubted 
whether He, who * at the beginning made them male and female/ did not 
also mark out for them in his purposes different, though parallel, paths 
through all their lives." 

So far nothing can be better. But when Mr. Fraser proceeds to 
say — 

" Their " (the Americans) " conception of woman's duties, and their ideal 
of womanly perfection, are probably different from ours. To them the Roman 
matron of the old republic is, perhaps, the type of female excellence ; to 
them self-reliance, fearlessness, decision, energy, promptitude, are perhaps 
the highest female qualities. To us the softer graces are more attractive 
than the sterner virtues ; our object is to train women, before anything and 
everything besides, for the duties of the home ; we care less in them for 
vigorous intellects and firm purposes, and more for tastes which domesticate 
and accomplishments which charm " — 

we confess he appears to us to shoot beside the mark. As far as the 
" Roman matron of the old republic " is concerned, we know too 
little of that lady to be able to pronounce whether she either pos- 
sessed the " sterner virtues," or was deficient in the " softer graces." 
We think, however, that there must have always been at Borne 
many dames worthy to rank with Tullia and Octavia in the tenderest 
feminine charms. Moreover, Romans, in the freedom and courtesy 
of their social intercourse with each other, appear to us to bear a 
much closer resemblance to Englishmen than Americans. Indeed, 
if we have rightly understood Cicero and Horace, the terms on which 
a Roman gentleman lived with his friends have always appeared to 

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On the Education of Women. 257 

us delightful. So we should be inclined to think the Roman mothers 
who taught them manners must have been far from wanting in 
womanly attractions. But this by-the-by. To return to the main 
point, we cannot help thinking that the balance between " sterner 
virtues " and " softer graces " has very little to do with the matter 
in hand. To us a woman's life appears to be quite as serious as a 
man's, and to require quite as frequently and as largely all the help 
that experience, self-control, and good sense can give her. The 
only thing, then, we have to keep in view in the education of women 
is surely how they are best to live the life and fulfil the duties God 
has given them. To this even the " tastes which domesticate, and 
accomplishments which charm," must be so subordinate that, except 
just so far as they conduce to it, they ought to be thrown out of view 
altogether. Compared with this, the " ideal of womanly perfection " 
men choose to frame for themselves is absolutely insignificant. And 
when Mr. Fraser in a note a little further on says : — 

" I should have supposed, though I don't think we have quite hit it in 
England, that there was a mean between the ' cloistral education of France ' 
and the ' democratic education of the United States.' I quite feel that 
there is an indefinable something that makes a difference between the rela- 
tionship of man and wife in America, and the relationship of man and wife 
in England. I do not mean that there is more mutual affection, or more 
mutual confidence, but there is a different tone in the intercourse. I think 
the secret of the difference lies in this, that the American husband has more 
respect for his wife's mind ; " — 

his words sound to our ear like an acknowledgment that the 
American has in his judgment fewer faults than the English system. 
We can ourselves give no opinion on the point, as we have never had 
the good fortune to know any American families. But we confess 
the passage above quoted in one respect astonished us not a little. 
We should have thought that most English husbands who were 
willing to be taught — that is to say, all worth thinking about — 
would have found their wives in many of the most important duties 
of life the best teachers — next to or equally with their mothers — 
they ever had, and, therefore, have at least as much respect as the 
men of any other nation for their minds. But let us see what are 
the educational results of the American plan. For even if a comparison 
of manners were more to the purpose than it is, we don't see that 
the difference, whatever there may be, between English and American 
ladies depends so entirely upon school life as to be much in point. 
That, we conceive, springs at least as much from the difference of 
manners throughout society. But do women in America gain enough 
in knowledge and power to make it worth our while to change all 
our own customs ? Here there appear to arise very grave doubts. 
All authorities seem to say the girls do as well as the boys. Mr. 
Fraser writes : — 

vol. vit. s 

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258 The Contemporary Review. 

" Some of the best mathematical teachers are women ; some of the best 
mathematical students are girls. Young ladies read Virgil and Cicero, 
Xenophon and Homer, as well (in every sense) as young gentlemen. In 
mixed high schools the number of female students generally preponderates, 
and they are found in examinations to carry off the largest proportion of 
prizes. In schools where I heard the two sexes taught or catechized to- 
gether, I should myself have awarded to the girls the palm for quickness of 
perception and precision of reply. In no. department of study which they 
pursued together did they not seem to me, as compared with their male 
competitors, fully competent to hold their own." 

So Miss Blake : — 

" The professor of Greek told me that he was unable to see much differ- 
ence between the students of the two sexes : ' But for the difference of 
voice, I should find it hard, or impossible, with my eyes shut, to tell one 
from the other. If I am to find a distinction, I may, perhaps, say that, 
speaking generally, the ladies have more intuitive quickness in construing, 
and earlier acquire elegance in composition ; while the gentlemen [in passing 
may we beg this republican professor, as well as his mathematical brother, 
to have nothing to say in future about * ladies ' and ' gentlemen,' but to be 
content with ' girls' and ' boys ?'] seem more able to seize on points touch- 
ing the philosophy of the language. As regards power of attention and 
application, I have never remarked any difference, and the work done is 
usually about equal." 

Again — 

" The professor of mathematics said, ' I have found the work done by 
ladies to be fully equal to that of the gentlemen— -fully ; and it has more 
than once occurred that the best scholar in my class was s lady. Ladies 
are generally the quickest at recitation, and will repeat long problems more 
accurately than most of the young men. I do not know that they have any 
counterbalancing defect. As to strength and power of application, I know 
that the advantage is said to lie with the men, but I have not found it so.' " 

But of what kind of work do these gentlemen speak P We confess 
we don't feel much struck with mathematical instruction which attri- 
butes high value to " repeating long problems," or which, as we read 
in another place, — 

" Makes the pupils work most thoroughly, though not professing to carry 
them to so high a point as was attempted elsewhere ; not, if I remember 
right, beyond a sort of summary of Euclid and quadratic equations." 

What a " summary of Euclid " can be we cannot conceive. We 
fancy, however, that at Cambridge it would please the undergraduate 
better than the tutorial mind. Nor do we think that the lady " who 
stood," as a Mrs. Mann informs us, "before her classes solving the 
most difficult problems as if she had discovered them, and as if books 
had not yet been invented," would there get many pupils among 
possible senior wranglers. They prefer teachers who can " discover 
problems " for themselves. If she did, we fear it would be chiefly 
due to those " feminine traits of character " in which we read she 
was "as "rare as in her intellectual cultivation." We doubt even 

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On the Education of Women. 259 

whether the fact that " one of the most talented [we cannot help pro- 
testing against this horrible word — one might as well say sovereigned, 
shiltinged, napo leaned"] actuaries in the United States is a woman," 
would carry much weight in favour of the professor's views with 
mathematical men.* In classics again, when Professor Fairchild 
tells us that " proper discrimination will evade all difficulty ; " that 
"such authors as Plato and Xenophon, Cicero an4 Tacitus — r-as noble 
and chaste as the entire range of literature affords — may be read in 
mixed classes without causing a blush," and serenely adds, " it might 
be well even in schools for young men to keep within such limits," 
we cannot help thinking, with all the respect due to the learned pro- 
fessor, that he must be talking about what he does jiot very well 
understand. We think he might find a good deal in his pet authors 
that would prove rather awkward to read among boys and girls 
together ; and we should uncommonly like to know his views about 
Aristophanes. And when we hear from Mr. Fraser that the books 
used in American schools are mostly after the model of Mr. 
Anthon's, we ask for no more evidence. A good deal of the enthu- 
siasm of the worthy professor must be simply " tall talk." 

Next, as to the effects on the bodies of girls. Students of either 
sex are, it is probable, less robust in America than in England. But 
Mr. Fraser leads us to think that girls especially suffer terribly from 
overwork. Thus he writes : — 

" There can be no doubt that everywhere, at least in the city schools, a 
severe strain is put upon the physical strength both of teachers and pupils, 
particularly in the girls schools. ... I remember very distinctly in a New 
York school, at the close of one of those little addresses which, in my capa- 
city of a visitor, I was so often called upon to make in the schools, in which 
I had endeavoured to explain our English system, and had spoken of the 
growing prevalence of the opinion that five hours of study properly distri- 
buted over the day were as much as it was prudent to attempt to get out of 
young people between the ages of twelve and eighteen, a general sigh issued 
from the class of girls who had been listening to me, followed by the audible 
expression of a wish from several that the same opinion might begin to 
prevail there." 

Miss Blake seems a little reluctant to acknowledge any need for 
more care for girls in this particular than for boys. She says : — 
" It seems to be proved that at least a considerable number of women can 

• Miss Blake relates an anecdote which seems to us to throw considerable light on 
the state of mathematical teaching in American schools: — "The teacher will rapidly 
enunciate such a question as the following, and as her voice ceases some pupil will 
generally be ready with the answer : — ' Take two ; add one ; cube ; take away two ; 
square ; take away one ; divide by two ; subtract twelve ; divide by fifteen ; divide by 
ten; square, square, square. Hiss Smith?' 'Two hundred and fifty-six.' 'Bight.' 
And so on, just as quickly as voice can speak." Hiss Blake seems to have been much 
struck with this feat. So are we— with its utter useleesness, if no worse, to Miss Smith. 
This was at the school where there was a " first-rate staff of most earnest lady teachers, 
whose actual erudition was almost overwhelming.' ' But their " sheer learning/' whatever 
that may mean, seems to have " co-existed with a very imperfect knowledge of English." 

s 2 

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260 Hhe Contemporary Review. 

undertake and successfully complete the same course of study that is usual 
for men, and that without more apparent detriment to their health than 
students of the other sex." 

Again, with a fine sarcasm, — 

" Experience seems, moreover, to furnish many warnings that in England 
at least it is not well for most girls between the ages of fifteen and twenty 
to work as hard as is supposed to be usual with their brothers ; though, by- 
the-by, how hard the boys really do study I do not know, occasional glimpses 
of results having made me a little sceptical on this point." 

Miss Blake does not appear to understand how the pressure of 
work increases as you go on. It is much like climbing up a mountain-: 
for the first two or three hours it is all very well ; after that the 
weaker members of the party begin to be what athletes call " pumped, ** 
and drop off. Only one here and there may boast — 

" Right up Ben Lomond can he press, 
And not a sob his toil confess." 

Miss Blake very little knows, and we are quite certain very few- 
women could bear, the strain of mind and body necessary to attain a 
good place in any Tripos. It is no argument to say that many men 
seem to do it with ease and pleasure. Look at their strength of build — 
of mind we mean rather than body, though the latter often goes with 
it — and see whether it is such as is likely to fall to a woman. Where, 
indeed, is there any experience which should induce us to think it 
desirable to carry the literary education of women in general to the 
same height as that of men P In what branch of the service of the 
Muses have they shown original power ? In poetry and music at 
least they have had fully as good a chance as their brothers ; but 
who among women can be called, except according to the most 
moderate standard, either poets or composers P On the whole, we 
cannot help thinking that the results of the Local Examinations, 
crude as they still are, lead us to a tolerably safe conclusion — viz., 
that up to a certain point, say about such as these examinations 
indicate, there is no reason why girls should not receive pretty much 
the same literary education as boys. Without going so far as to say 
that they ought to go to school together, we think it is fairly made 
out by experience that there is no reason to fear evil from such asso- 
ciation, and much reason to hope for benefit to both sexes. Of one 
thing we entertain no doubt, namely, that not only boys and girls, 
but men and women, live too little together in England just now. 
How this is to be amended is another question. If >a change in the 
habits of school can help to bring it about, so much the better ; but 
we are bound to concede at once that it is a subject on which it is 
absurd to attempt to dogmatize. Taste and even prejudices must be 
consulted, and an improvement can only come to pass si volet tisitt. 
But after the limit of rudimentary education is passed, we see nothing 

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On the Education of Women. 261 

to induce us to alter the opinion we have always entertained ; that 
is, that studies conducted together will, generally speaking, be in- 
jurious to both. No doubt there are girls — though we believe com- 
paratively few* — who are willing and able to carry their studies 
further. For these we conceive no better plan could be devised than 
one which we hear is already on foot. We advert to the project of 
building a college within a convenient distance of London for girls 
of sixteen and upwards. If it be true, as it is alleged to be, that 
endowments intended for the youth of many parishes have been 
seized for boys only, this fact would constitute a fair claim on the 
country for the building and support of such a college. On the 
side of this allegation of the ladies let us turn to an American 
decision cited by Mr. Fraser :— 

" In Nelson v. Cushing, 2 Cush. (Mass.) 519, decided in 1848, the testator 
bequeathed his property ' for the establishment and support of a free English 
school in Newbury-port, for the instruction of youth wherever they may 
belong.* The court was of opinion that the testator meant a school for girls 
as well as boys." 

Much, of course, would depend on the wording of testaments. But 
however that may be, we heartily hope that such a college may be 
somehow or other built and endowed. Only we trust that it may be 
as far as possible officered by women. Just as only men can make 
men, so only women can make women. We suppose that in one or 
two departments of knowledge the employment of men cannot be 
helped, though if Sir William Hamilton is right in exclaiming, 
" Whatever ic good in a lecture is better in a book," we don't see 
why they might not be done without. But that argument might 
perhaps go to the abolition of colleges and universities altogether. 
Besides, we think he is as much the reverse of right as if is pos- 
sible for a man to be. There is a power in the living voice the 
printer cannot attain unto, and we believe that without speaking 
teachers learning would soon die. So let the ladies have their pro- 
fessors. We advise them to be careful, in making their choice of 
teachers of either sex, not to be led away by the ignis fatum of 
" European reputations/' but to look out for persons who love their 
work enough to be honest and sound instructors, and to this warning 
we will only add a hearty wish that they may succeed in founding 
an institution which may be abundantly fruitful of " good wives and 
mothers." Thomas Markby. 

• We Bay few, because it is remarkable that the work of the senior girls in the Cam- 
bridge Local Examinations is, as a whole, as inferior to that of the juniors as is found 
to be the case with the boys. We did not so much wonder at it in the latter. The 
Universities and the Oxford A A would naturally attract the most promising boys. But 
there is no such cause at work with the girls, and the fact rather points to the conclu- 
sion that a majority of both sexes are not capable of much literary advancement after 
sixteen — that, in short, their hands are better than their heads. [ 

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ONE or two of the topics raised in the previous paper under this 
heading are in themselves, even apart from necessarily hasty 
treatment, so easily capable of being wrenched aside for purposes of 
misrepresentation and ridicule, that it may be as well to guard them 
by a few sentences at once. 

With respect, for example, to Culture, it is an obviously easy 
thing to say that to depreciate culture is only another way of praising 
ignorance and stupidity. But nobody that we happen to know of 
can honestly be supposed to mean anything of the kind. That the 
greatest possible amount of knowledge, with the greatest possible 
amount of skill and refinement in applying it, must always be 
desirable, in journalism as elsewhere, is something very like a truism. 
But it is surely not desirable at all costs. If a good, able man 
without culture, and a good, able man with culture, presented them- 
selves for certain functions as public writers, we should scarcely 
hesitate in choosing the second ; but the first would most unques- 
tionably be preferable to an able, cultivated man with no particular 
depth of character. Nor is this all, or half, of the truth upon the 
subject before us. Nor does it meet the case to treat Culture as a 
mere question of the intellectual kid-glove against the strong, free 
hand. We must try and get it understood that what is offered to us 
under the name of that Culture whose pretensions affect us dis- 

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The London Press. 263 

agreeably is not merely refined and thoughtful knowledge ; it is a 
certain result of special training, with a decided moral bias super- 
added. Now, what is that biasP In a man like Mr. Matthew 
Arnold (whose name can scarcely be omitted in such a connection), 
it may be seen with peculiar distinctness, though its impact upon 
particular topics is lightened by the elegance of his mind and the 
fluency of his sympathies as a poet, and its very existence disguised 
from many of his readers by (what appears to us as) the confusing 
inconsequence of his method. It may be described in varying 
terms, but it is, to put it in one way out of many less simple, a bias 
towards unity, the terms of the unity to be dictated by the cultivated to 
the uncultivated. Only this is putting the case in the most favourable 
of all possible lights ; exhibiting the bias as it exists in a choice and 
beautiful intelligence like Mr. Matthew Arnold's. Even under the 
most favourable circumstances, this bias is propelled towards its end, 
unity, by the establishment of castes (a fact not new to historical 
students) ; and in that way its final tendency is disclosed to us. But 
we arrive at it in practice by even a shorter cut, without waiting for 
historical developments at all. What is the obvious tendency of this 
bias which constitutes the essential motif of the gospel of culture in 
minds less fine and sympathetic than some of the best P Plainly, to 
isolation. If a Frenchman were to say ( " pas si bete ! " whispers a voice 
on the other side of the question) the logic of culture is segregation, 
he would utter quite as true an epigram as that retribution is the 
logic of crime. We all admit, most ungrudgingly and thankfully, 
the service rendered by the Saturday Review to literature. It has 
greatly raised the standards of appreciation in book matters, and if 
it had done nothing else to deserve our gratitude, that would of itself 
be much. But the spirit of the moral criticism to which too much 
of the journalism of culture has accustomed us is assuredly one which 
tends to segregation except for purposes of pleasure. Let any one 
honestly examine himself, and say whether the hours when he has 
been disposed to make any sort of capital whatever out of the weak 
and foolish points of well-intentioned people have not been among 
the very worst hours of his existence ; whether he does not feel that 
if the line of tendency were continued, it must end in moral isolation 
and the total loss of faith and love. To laugh at what is laughable 
is fair enough, but to make capital out of it is quite another matter ; 
and to make capital out of peculiarities of all kinds is the necessary 
policy of a gospel which has the bias we have hinted at. 

Considered as a mere protest against blatancy, the gospel of culture 
is welcome; it is merely one force working freely amid other forces ; 
but what it inevitably points to is a despotism of taste, — and 
this and faith can never subsist together. Accordingly, we find a 
great deal of the political, social, and other criticism of culture not 
only distrustful of high motive, and constant in depreciating its 

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264 T *Ihe Contemporary Review. 

value, but distinctly proclaiming its insensibility to it. The everlast- 
ing mark of division between men and men is for ever being throat 
under our notice by such criticism. There are those who believe in 
no criterion but that of consequences supposed to be calculable, — and 
those who believe in spiritual laws invisibly working through all 
actions and things to consequences utterly incalculable ; from which it 
follows that the moral value of conduct is determinable by its motive, 
so far as human eyes can judge it, God alone knowing beforehand 
the moral consequence. Hence we find such criticism more con- 
fident than a jury of archangels would have any right to be in 
matters of the most awful uncertainty. It knows exactly when the 
note of self-sacrifice is pitched too high. It knows exactly when a 
life like Henry Martyn's has been " wasted/' and boldly tells the 
universe in good leaded bourgeois when some of the greatest efforts 
of the human soul in its anguish of glorious labour have been 
"followed by no commensurate results/' A smug article-maker 
sits down in a well-appointed editor's room (having just had a 
sandwich and a glass of sherry) to lecture an old lion like Gari- 
baldi about " shedding blood." " Bisum teneatis amice P " — we really 
must lug in the old quotation ! Again, it knows the precise value 
of such poor old rags of thought and feeling as that the sea and the 
stars are awful, and that what will happen to-morrow is quite 
uncertain. " What is the good of telling us all that P We have heard 
it before. Why don't you look at facts P There's a cabman giving 
another man a black eye at this moment ; the streets are up to your 
ankles in slush ; mutton is tenpence a pound ; and we can't be 
bothered with the uncertainty of life — there's nothing in it." It 
never appears to occur to the highly-cultivated being who feels 
bothered by a certain class of ideas, presented over and over again, 
that there are two ways of looking at this matter. It is, perhaps, not 
that there is nothing in the ideas, but that there is nothing in him. 
There is a platitudinarian way of saying that the uncertainty of life 
is an awful thing ; but when once the platitudinarian line is passed 
in the upward direction, the presentation of certain great pathetic 
thoughts can never weary a serious mind. We must and will have 
it recognised, first, that that class of men and women with whom 
lies the whole motive power (we do not say the best directing power 
always) of labours of goodness in this world, is a class of men and 
women whose life is, by their very constitution, so surcharged with 
the feelings to which these great pathetic thoughts are affiliated, that 
the expression of them by others is a necessary relief as well as a 
discipline ; and, secondly, that the impatience of " culture" in these 
matters is the brand of inferiority, and not the sign of any right 
whatever to lecture the other side : — 

" She is the second, not the first," — 
and she must be taught her place. If she will not learn it other- 
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TAe London Press. 265 

wise, the knowledge will come to her in the conflicts arising from 
that increasing separation between different classes of society in 
which she has so largely assisted. 

The second point raised in our previous article, which might be 
made to lend itself to misrepresentation, is that of the enthusiasm of 
humanity considered as possible to become a conceit, or little better. 
To say that it would be possible to carry humane effort too far would 
be as absurd as to say that it would be possible to carry cultivation 
too far. But for all that, there is a serious meaning in our lan- 
guage. It is not certain that every mind is sensitive enough to a 
vague impression — to what we might call the aura of an idea, or 
way of thinking or feeling — to catch at once what we would now 
hint at ; but surely sensitive minds must have heard in recent 
journalism a new " note " struck in relation to humane effort. It 
is so extremely difficult to find the requisite tenderness of expression 
for any criticism of what is kindly and relieves suffering, that we 
must bespeak a little indulgence in our attempt to make our meaning 
somewhat clearer. No one would bear to hear of any form of the 
enthusiasm of humanity being treated like, say, an enthusiasm for 
postage-stamps ; for it could scarcely get rid of a moral element of 
some kind. But the same remark might be made of the love of 
woman, considered as a sentiment diffused in society and influencing 
conduct. Yet this did actually become a conceit, from the time 
when in the middle ages it became a schwarmerei — and it is the 
nearest illustration we can think of to illuminate a little our meaning 
when we hinted that there was possibly some danger of the enthu- 
siasm of humanity becoming a conceit too. And we steadfastly 
believe it must do so, if detached from what we have called the 
theological spirit. When it is insisted that faith in a good Lord and 
Governor of the universe is the necessary postulate of sustained 
goodness of any kind, people suppose, or pretend to suppose it is 
intended to convey the idea that nobody will continue to do good 
without hope of reward in a future state. But this is not what is 
intended. What is intended is simply that without faith in a Divine ' 
purpose, guaranteed by Divine sympathy, with the assurance of 
Divine support (not reward), the sense of duty collapses, because 
life becomes an absurdity. Felix Holt, we may perhaps remember, y 
was of a different opinion. Life was worth something to a brave man, 
he said, even without faith in God, and as, at all events, the suffering 
around him was real, he would go and do what he could to lessen it, 
and teach others to lessen it. This sounds to some of us as if he 
had said, " The sea wants emptying ; I have no assurance that the 
work can ever be accomplished, or that a tub for it exists even ; but 
I will go on as well as I can with a kitchen-strainer." The most 
rational, or rather the least irrational, thing for a man to do who had 
no faith in a God would, in our opinion, be to constitute himself the 

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266 The Contemporary Review. 

apostle of the discontinuance of the human race. His task would 
not be a very feasible one, but it would be quite as feasible as the 
kitchen-strainer struggle. In spite, then, of here and there a Felix 
• Holt (and such people undoubtedly exist*), we must hold to the 
opinion that service of humanity without faith in God, if it should 
ever become a sehtcdrmerei, will collapse into a conceit. And the 
"note " of such a schtcarmerei has been most distinctly struck in our 
journalism. The Pall Mall Gazette of the 8th of January, in a 
powerful leading article from an unmistakable pen, put the case in 
small compass in the following sentences : — 

" There is a large and important class which, if it were honest, would 
say, You may talk for ever and ever, but I do not love Humanity as 
described by you. You will never persuade me to love it ; and if you 
succeeded in convincing me of your cardinal doctrines of atheism and 
materialism, you would simply deprive me of the only objects which I do 
or can respect or care for. If there is a good and wise God, who has 
created the human race, who governs it, and has imposed upon its various- 
members duties towards each other, such a being is a natural, object of all 
our highest affections, and a source of duty as between man and man, whose 
common relations to tlie same Maker constitute a bond of union between each 
other ; but if you are right in saying that this God is a mere human fiction, 
then I cease to care for any men other than those particular persons or 
classes with whom I individually am concerned. What's Hecuba to me or 
I to Hecuba ? What do I care whether Yeh did or did not cut off the 
heads of 70,000 Chinese in and about Canton ? Let us cultivate our cab- 
bages and amuse ourselves as well as we can. It will not be for long. 

The italics are ours, and the sting of the passage lies in the 
italicized words. The fact is, the notion of an enthusiasm of 
humanity without devotion to a personal God and Father of men, a 
notion born in that atmosphere of crowding and collective movement 
in which we live, is threatening us in much more diffusion than the 
inattentive reader of newspapers and periodicals would suppose. 
Journalists have to write in haste, and they can only bring to the 
topic of the hour that which they have ready for it in the way 
of distinct or deep-felt faith. How many journalists possess, what- 
ever their ability may be, a religious faith so diffused over their 
other beliefs, and so distinctly formulated, that they can at one 
glance of the eye pigeon-hole any topic that comes before them in its 
relation to their faith P Yet without that capacity of pigeon-holing 
ideas at a moment's notice, social criticism, like all other criticism, 
may be mere clever chance work steeped in the atmosphere of the 
hour. The enthusiasm of humanity is the atmosphere of the hour, 
and without faith in a Divine Ruler it tends as distinctly to an empty 
despotism of a conceit as the gospel of culture to a despotism of 

* One of the most actively kind men we ever knew was an entire disbeliever — a pare 
atheist — though he had been formerly in Christian communion. His goodness was an 
exhilarating spectacle ; bnt not the least exhilarating point about it was, that the man's 
life was a refuting comment on the text of his belief. 

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The London Press. 267 

We referred, in the previous paper, to two ideas as having been 
once for all deposited, historically, in thp human mind by Christianity, 
though they did not constitute Christianity. Those ideas were, the 
importance to the individual soul of a faith dominating the life, and 
the inalienable responsibility of the individual soul. We must now 
add a third — namely, that separation (to use the accustomed phrase) 
between the sinner and his sin, which permits us to love the doer 
while we hate the deed. Whether this element is peculiar to Chris- 
tianity or not, it is through Christianity that we have received 
it, incalculably intensified, into our lives. We cannot conceive 
it existing separate from the justification of it which is afforded 
by the theological spirit, and woe to the community among whom 
it ceases to be a prevalent idea. Too much ridicule has been 
tolerated in our journalism of the religious attentions paid to 
criminals, too much ridicule even of the lugubrious stories of prison 
conversions and gallows-saints by which the ridicule has been pro- 
voked. It belongs not only to Christianity proper, with its story of 
the thief on the cross, but to the theological spirit, to decline to fix 
any limit to inherent possibilities of moral restoration ; and even 
when this mode of action of the theological spirit happens to be 
exhibited with lugubrious or maudlin untruthfulness, public criticism, 
unless it openly abjures all faith in God and immortality, is bound to 
separate the wheat from the chaff. But we have too long permitted 
ourselveB to adopt a lazy cynicism in these and kindred matters, and 
our irreligious journalism has done much to create the moral atmo- 
sphere which makes our laziness come so easy to us. 

Whenever the old-fashioned idea of separating between the sinner 
and the sin is exploded, we are sure to find, and we do, as a matter 
of fact, find in some of our most cultivated journalism, something 
for which we shall also employ the old-fashioned phrase. It is the 
reverse of one of the attributes of charity, and is happily and suffi- 
ciently described as rejoicing in iniquity : words as old as St. Paul, 
and still standing for a very distinguishable fact. It is the spirit of 
the eavesdropper at Margaret's door : — 

Meph. — To-night then we- 

Faust. — And what does it import to you ? 
Meph. — I have my pleasure in it too. 

A passage so frankly nauseous in its devilishness makes one pause,, 
and wonder whether the poet is not sometimes caught down into the 
third hell, and shown things which are not lawful to be uttered. 
But the spirit of the situation may constantly be recognised in our 
journalism, and, for the most part, in ostensibly moral writing 
addressed in a spirit of indignant virtue to acknowledged abuses. 
Just as an ear quick in one sense catches in a poem the " Lyrical 
Cry " if it be there, so an ear quick in another sense catches at once, 
in many a column of chaste sarcasm, the Vulpine Cry — the call- 
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268 The Contemporary Review. 

note of the foxes that, having lost their own tails, are only too glad to 
believe that some others have lost theirs. Even where this note is 
unheard there is frequently another, only less disagreeable, to be 
caught by an attentive listener. It would be almost ludicrous to 
signalize this as the Scavenger-note — an undertone as of a spirit 
which looks upon wrong-doing as so much inevitable sewage which 
is simply to be kept out of sight : " There are the latrinm for these 
things ; draw your cordon sanitaire, appoint your health officers, and 
let us hear no more publicly of the subject — it is not decent, 
really." This seems, as we have said, almost a ludicrous description, 
but it would scarcely be up to the mark if we were to characterize 
the spirit in question merely as the Duenna spirit, though this 
also conveys a portion of the necessary meaning. Call it the 
Scavenger view or the Duenna view, its essential "note" is the same — 
distrust. It is a view which is totally inconsistent with the presence 
of the theological spirit (in an intelligent and cultivated, perhaps 
even in a deeply honest or simple nature), because trust, or con- 
fidence in overruling though invisibly-intermingled currents of 
goodness, is of the essence of that spirit.* 

As it is with entire deliberation that we have up to this point 
been making comments which can only be said to describe the best 
theological press, or those three types of it which we have here selected, 
by negatives, we pass by a natural transition here to the reflection 
that the theological spirit, with whatever mistakes or cruelties theo- 
logians may have been chargeable, is the only spirit which can be 
depended upon for that which it is the first function of journalism 
to foster ; namely, a working patriotism that mil not recklessly oppress 
as it clears the ground before it. In no one place do we find this 
doctrine, the true doctrine of patriotism, so explicitly put in brief 
compass as in one of Wordsworth's Ecclesiastical Sonnets, which is, 
perhaps, not quite fresh in the memory of every reader : — 

" Ungrateful country, if thou e'er forget 

The bom who for thy civil rights have bled ! 

♦ ♦ *♦ • • j 

But these had fallen for profitless regret, 

Had not thy holy Church her champions bred, 

And claims from other worlds inspirited 
The Star of Liberty to rise. Nor yet 

(Grave this within thy heart !) if spiritual things 
Be lost through apathy, or scorn, or fear, 

Shalt thou thy humbler franchises support, 
However hardly won or justly dear ; 

* In remarking upon the essentially ;theological character of some of our public 
writing from pens which would, for what we know, totally disclaim the theological 
spirit, we applied to the case in question the well-known truth, that men do not always 
see the logic of their own position. Those who wish to see what appears to us a 
complete and curiously appropriate justification of the remark will find it in the Spec- 
tator of the 11th of January, in an article entitled " Professor Huxley's Hidden Chess- 

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The London Press. 269 

What came from Heaven, to Heaven by nature clings, 
And if dissevered thence its coarse is short/' 

This sonnet is entitled " Obligations of Civil to Religious Liberty ;" 
and the very title brings us back to the point from which we started 
in the previous paper, namely, the inalienable responsibility of the 
individual soul. This is a religious idea, of course, for it simply 
means that whatever collisions may come of it, all human beings 
are primarily responsible to One Ruler in such a sense that if any 
particular human being becomes convinced that the law or will of the 
One Ruler contradicts the law or will of all other rulers put together, 
he is simply bound to disobey the others, and do what he believes to 
be the will of that One. There are only two forms in which this 
idea is workable. The first is, that a human being must go to his own 
conscience to find the will of God ; the second is, that he must go 
to some existing infallible source of knowledge for the will of God. 
Of course this second form of the idea in question appears to Pro- 
testants to be absurd in logic, and in practice corrupting. 

Strictly speaking, there is no act possible to any human being 
which may not conceivably become vital, and demand to be solved 
on one of the above principles. But there is an enormous portion 
of our existence which we provisionally assume to be indifferent, 
and which we all consent, in various ways, and with various degrees 
of explicitness or implicitness, to place under the control of external 

Differences in natural character, and differences in culture and 
position incline different (Protestant) persons to various shades of 
opinion in these matters. Their tendencies on public and social 
questions in general may be determined by the answer to this 
specific question,-^To what centre of gravity does their doctrine 
of provisional authority tend to refer itself? With regard to the 
school of thought represented by the Nonconformist, the answer 
obviously is — To the will of the individuals ruled, to pure self- 
government ; the government being deliberative only for the pur- 
pose of arriving at the will of the people, and executive simply 
for the purpose of carrying it out. Circumstances of exceptional 
danger — analogous to those, for example, of a ship at sea — may 
justify a departure from the theory, but that is the theory. Well, 
a man might pass from turning over the pages of the Nonconformist 
to turning over the pages of the Spectator, and not be immediately 
conscious of any particular difference of political assumption, unless 
Mr. Bright or the Irish Church question happened to arise upon the 
very pages ; so full of the spirit of freedom and personal conscience 
is the Spectator, and so large in its allowances. But, upon looking 
again, the reader we have supposed would become conscious of a 
difference. To put it roughly, the Spectator is more national. The 
community is something more than so many people ; it is a personal 

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270 The Contemporary Review. 

aggregate. The nation is much more than all the people added up 
together. To put it more plainly : take the very strongest phrase 
in which any pious subscriber to the Nonconformist would describe 
the organic life of a church, and change the terms, you have then 
the Spectator* 8 idea of a nation. Even this is not a satisfactory way 
of putting the case, but it will perhaps pass. Fair play to every- 
thing within the nation, but the nation supreme, a National Church, 
and in all things a perfect organic federation of interests. When 
we pass to the Guardian, we become aware, among other points of 
difference, of a distinctly capital difference here at all events. No 
words of our own could illustrate it so well as the following sentences 
which we extract from the Guardian of the 1st of January, 1868 : — 

" When last year opened, we were anticipating the Lambeth Conference. 
We can now look back upon it and accept it thankfully — in spite of all the 
cavils and all the ridicule of irreligious or hostile pens, which have in 
truth done little more than betray their instinctive sense of its real impor- 
tance^ — as a great and memorable event. It remains now to look forward 
to its future issues. For that it will have important issues we do not for a 
moment doubt. The remarkable documents which we published last week 
are quite enough to falsify the predictions of those who were never tired of 
telling us that a Council of Bishops could not possibly do anything, because 

they could exercise no legal or coercive power. These documents 

draw the lines on which may be constructed a vast confederation of English- 
speaking churches, bound together by a community of doctrine and 
worship, maintained not by legal compulsion, but by the true unity of 
voluntary agreement 

" Our objections to the suggested central ecclesiastical court of appeal 
apply with yet greater force to the tribunals which at present exist. These 
have all the evils incident to distance and ignorance ; and they have not the 
completeness belonging to the scheme contained in the Lambeth Report. 
That scheme, with all its inconveniences, has the great advantage of pro- 
moting unity of judgment on doctrinal questions among all the churches of 
our communion. It will hardly be believed that this very circumstance is 
urged against it by hostile critics. Liberals of the Eraetian type, such 
as the Spectator represents, seem to think that a man cannot be a member 
of the Christian Church unless he is a subject of the Queen of Great Bri- 
tain ; with the gain of political independence he must, on their showing, 
associate the loss of religious fellowship." * 

There can be nothing strictly new to say to any reader of the 
Contemporary Review upon the usual current of opinion in either 
of the three journals whose names appear at the head of this article ; 
and in making the above quotation, we assume that they are 
familiar with the line taken by the Spectator upon the Lambeth 
Conference question. Upon the final question which underlies all 
these discussions the writer of these lines adheres decisively to the 
position maintained by the Nonconformist — though if he were ft public 
man, he would be willing to undergo the severest criticism of the 
Guardian, satisfied that it would have too much conscience behind it 

°" ♦ Some time ago a writer in the^Pcff MaU GatetU called the Spmtator the " Saturday 
Eweae." " 

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The London Press. 271 

to do him any harm. From either of the three newspapers before 
us examples might be cited of that equitable kindness of which we 
have spoken as being proper to the theological spirit. Justice in the 
lower forms — or fair play (which is less than justice) — you may get 
in plenty of places, but equitable kindness is born of an interfusing 
trust ; and trust can only justify and support itself in one way. 
We might refer in detail, only that it is unnecessary and would 
occupy much space, to the parts taken by our three contemporaries 
throughout the late American war. We might quote as an example ' 
of equitable kindness, as distinguished from what people call justice, 
the Spectator's usual treatment of Mr. Bright. Or we might confi- ' 
dently refer to any file of the Nonconformist that the reader could 
lay his hands on. Mr. Matthew Arnold, in his usual unaccountable 
way, misunderstands and objects to its motto (essentially a fighting 
motto, and he might as well object to Nelson's watchword) ; but when 
we remember that the Nonconformist has, perhaps, had more pre- 
judice to deal with, and in doing some of its best work, more risk to 
run than any other journal in England, we are unable, for our own 
parts, to refrain from words of the warmest homage to its candour 
and fearlessness. Of the sustained ability of its original writing 
its readers can judge without words of ours. The following short 
passage from the number of 4th January, 1868, strikes the key-note 
to which the journal has always been true : — 

" The New Year, then, like a new-born child, comes to us with this 
lesson — that we ' be not weary in well-doing,' and that in well-doing we 
' commit ourselves unto God, as unto a faithful Creator.' We Jtave but to 
do irhat we can, and it will be accepted according to tcltat we have, and not ac- 
cord big to what we have not. To be faithful is better than to be successful. 
Nay, faithfulness is success. Whether we or those who come after us shall 
witness the full accomplishment of our desires, is a matter of very secondary 
importance, in comparison of whether we are acting as good stewards. We 
see but a very little way before us. We know not, nor would it be of any 
advantage for us to know, what issues may be at hand. The new year 
admonishes us to pursue our end by being instant in season and out of 
season, and we may he sure that whatever shall come of that, our reward 
will be as great as it is certain." 

This is a just and apposite example (the italics are ours) of the true 
theological spirit, and neither man nor journal is to be wholly trusted 
in which this faith is not dominant. 

There is often a peculiar simplicity about the Nonconformist, — the 
kind of simplicity, born of high honesty, which makes you fancy you 
could hoax it ; and it is exposed, like other Dissenting papers, to the 
great inconvenience of being obliged to insert " denominational . 
intelligence," in which there is too frequently a touch of the ludicrous. 
The following is an example : — 

" New Year's Services. — There were services in Chapel, — 

, on the first day of the year, of which a correspondent gives the fol- 
lowing account : — 

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272 The Contemporary Review. 

,? " ' According to an arrangement made the previous Sunday, it was pro- 
posed to the congregation that they should of their oicn proper substance 
[how could they do it otherwise without stealing ? ] make a thanksgiving 
offering to the Lord for mercies received through the previous year. At 
the close of the service, the minister took his station at the communion 
table, when the whole congregation, men, women, and children, began to 
move down one aisle and up the other in one continuous stream, presenting 
an offering to the Lord, wrap}ted up in paper. The pastor shook hands 
with every member of his flock and wished them all a happy new year. 
The day was cold, "but the liearts of the people were wann, and the results 
were the noble sum, for them, of £32, which was appropriated to the finances 
of the church/ " 

We could quote bits of " intelligence " from the Guardian quite as 
likely to provoke a smile ; only we fear that our able and solemn con- 
temporary would be down upon us for "joking," as it was upon Mr. 
Matthew Arnold, or upon the author of a book we once happened to 
see reviewed there, for speaking disrespectfully of the nave. 

Literature calling itself "evangelical" is notoriously, and with only 
rare exceptions, deficient on the "human" and dramatic sides. There is 
usually a certain dryness about it. In the Guardian and the Spectator 
the " human " flavour is very marked ; there is, as we say of wine, a 
"body" about the writing which is mostly missing in religious 
journalism. This "body," so to put the case, is even stronger, we 
think, in the Guardian than in the Spectator. But in a certain 
equitable subtlety of kindness, and a quietly heroic discrimination, 
difficult to exhibit without an example or two, the Spectator is, in 
our opinion, hopelessly superior to any other journal whatever. In 
no other newspaper that we know of is it so persistently maintained, 
by so many and so subtle lines of observation, at unexpected opportu- 
nities, that 

" The absolute moral right of every human being, subject always to the 
supreme law,* to lead his own life, the life he judges to be fullest of good 
things, seems to be the great forgotten truth of English society." 

In the essay from which this sentence is taken, the opportunity was 
a particularly natural one, for it was upon Dr. Mary Walker's lecture 
at St. James's Hall. But the same truth may be found set forth in 
the Spectator, from week to week, in a thousand direct ways ; and 
always, indirectly, in the kindly moderation of its tone when criti- 
cizing men and books, as occasion arises. From the same essay we 
extract a passage containing a comment which, as far as we know, 
the Spectator was alone in making at the time. Our readers will at 
once remember the whole of the story, and that many journals 
deliberately echoed, or half-echoed, in print, the "laugh " for which 
a stupid audience may have been almost excusable : — 

" Dr. Mary Walker told a story about a patient, dying, as we understand 
it, but, at all events, severely wounded, wanting to kiss her, and the very 

* The " supreme law" is the " golden rule," we presume. 

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The London Press. 273 

uproarious audience laughed her into silence. She told it, in fact, very badly, 
with an out-of-place allusion to his comrade's presence and his own emaciated 
look ; but did any human being not utterly a brute ever laugh at this, which 
is the same story told properly ? 

Ever she passed on her way, and came to a couch where pined 

One with a face from Venetia, white with a hope out of mind. 

Long she stood and gazed, and twice she tried at the name, 

But two great crystal tears were all that faltered and came. 

Only a tear for Venice ? — she turned as in passion and loss, 

And stooped to his forehead and kissed it, as if she were kissing the cross. 

Faint with that strain of heart, she moved on then to another, 

Stern and strong in his death. * And dost thou Buffer, my brother ? ' " 

From the same paper we will extract one more passage, which has 
dwelt upon our memory ever since, on account of its exhaustive 
subtlety of treatment : — 

" We believe that the Western theory of female education, which is based 
on obscurantism, is, on the whole, the soundest and healthiest yet tried ; 
that in abrogating it as aristocratic, and Bed ideas tend to abrogate it, 
we run the risk of destroying that flower of modesty, that unconscious or 
half-conscious delicacy of thought and feeling and expression, which, though 
not as valuable as chastity, is as beautiful, and as much to be reverenced. 
It was the lot of the writer years since to talk for some hours to a female 
medical missionary, then engaged with her husband in the civilization 
of a wild tribe. She was a lady, if culture could make one, and was doing 
the work of a St. Paul, — was civilizing an entire people as no man ever 
could have done, and was in return followed by a love and reverence almost 
painful to see, it was so like that of colley dogs for a shepherd. But 
she said things, could not help saying things, which one would be very 
sorry to hear currently said in drawing-rooms — as they are, for instance, 
said, if Miss Gobbe and a hundred other observers may be trusted, in 
Italian drawing-rooms. But that holy ignorance or reticence is not worth 
guarding at the expense of a career of usefulness or philanthropy, and the 
woman who thrusts it aside because her nature requires that particular 
form of warfare with misery, or because she is specially fitted so to war, or 
because it is to her the readiest path to independence, has as much right to 
reverence in her course as a man has." 

This really leaves nothing to be said upon the subject to which it 
relates, or upon kindred subjects; it states, in a touching and effective 
shape, the first principle which applies to all similar questions. And 
how kindly, and yet with how evident a sense of the humour there is 
on the surface of these topics ! 

Because it is, in its tone, closely allied to the foregoing examples, 
we cite the brief passage which comes next : — 

" Without going the length of the cynical moralists who hold that we are 
punished for our good actions in this life, and for our bad in the next, we 
may probably say that there is a slight balance against the chances that 
average virtue will be prosperous, and a high probability that heroic virtue 
will be unfortunate. The man who is best fitted for the game of life is one 
who will never infringe conventional morality, never govern himself by 
a higher standard than his neighbours, and never omit a chance to his own 

VOL. VII. t 

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274 5T>k Contemporary Review. * v 

advantage. Men of this sort, admirable for common life, are apt, it is 
true, to break down under exceptional demands on their strength ; and in 
this sense it is quite probable that society would soon be dissolved without 
a certain admixture of moral principle/' 

This comes from a recent review of a lady's novel, and is as good 
as a hundred exanfples of the spirit which does not rejoice in iniquity, 
and can yet keep its eyes open upon the facts of life — this last a 
quality, of course, most essential to a journalist. 

We have picked out passages from the Spectator that had fastened 
themselves upon our memory by (what we took to be) their intrinsic 
and peculiar merit; but the most striking instance of equitable 
subtlety of kindness that we can remember in that journal, and 
indeed the most striking we can remember anywhere, occurred in 
June, 1865, in an article about John Clare — a review of Mr. Frederick 
Martin's memoir : — 

" The same characteristic of profound impressibility which Clare shared 
with all true poets, together with that exceeding helplessness in conveying 
a true conception of his own feelings and wants to the world, which he ex- 
hibits in a far higher degree than most poets — in great measure no doubt 
because of his defective education, and the uncultured nature of the com- 
panions of his home — haunted him through life, rendering him in some 
measure a riddle even to those who were disposed to admire him, and 
throwing him perpetually into despondency, when he found that neither his 
feelings nor his wants were understood by his friends. Clare was not in 
his way deficient in a certain strength of character. His pride and hatred 
of dependence were, for his position in life, very remarkable ; and his per- 
tinacity in carrying out anything he had once determined on, even through 
a whole succession of disheartening circumstances, was far more than belongs 
to most impressible poetitf natures. But what strikes us so much in wading 
his life is not his want of practical force, but his great failure in the kind of 
practical force requisite for communicating with the world. Something or 
other always paralyzed his tongue at the moment when he should have 
spoken, and made him speak when he did speak either in a way or under 
circumstances which caused him to be misunderstood. There was a gulf 
between him and his fellow-creatures which could be passed only from their 
side, not from his. . . . There never was a poet who, with so deep and true 
a feeling for universal beauty, was so unable to realize it adequately except 
in objects to which individually he had grown attached by long familiarity. 
There can be no doubt that his madness was greatly accelerated, if not 
brought on, by the wrench of a removal of only tJiree miles from the hut at 
Helpston, in which he had lived all his life, to the pretty little cottage at 
Northborough given him by Earl Fitzwilliam. For weeks after his new 
cottage was ready he lived in positive terror of the removal, and actually 
went over to Milton Park to tell the Earl his inability to move ; but was 
dissuaded, as usual, at the critical moment by the pressure of friends, and 
still more probably by his own consciousness of incapacity to make his 
feelings understood. • . . There is no question but that the beauty of Clare** 
poetry increased as this gulf between him and the rest of the world widened. 
The universal or general side of his intellect was so little cultivated, that the 
effort to translate himself, as it were, in thought and practice into the world 
in which others lived, subtracted too much from his small fund of intellectual 
strength. There was no real egotism in his mental insulation, A being 

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The London Press. 275 

more deeply wrapped up in his affections — though they were too often 
affections little returned — scarcely ever existed. That which he loved both 
in nature and human life, he cherished with the absorbing enthusiasm of a 
poet and a child. His insulation therefore was simply a kind of mental 
inarticulateness, a want of power to see in other ihati familiar objects the 
same qualities which he really loved so deeply in them, and which, with a 
little more of that mental elasticity which early culture gives, he would have 
soon learned to see in more universal aspects, and to be able to separate 
from the particular forms in which he had first learned to love them." 

It certainly occurred to us at the time we read the foregoing 
sentences, and it still seems true to us, that we never read criticism 
of such delicate, perfect insight. And it is this subtlety of equitable 
kindness which we should fix upon as the characteristic of the 
Spectator, if we were limited to a single observation. 

It may be ever so true that this subtlety is not a necessary appen- 
dage of the theological spirit ; but we may at least be permitted to 
ask what would be the probable consequences if the same subtlety 
were to be exercised in journalism without the checks afforded by 
that spirit. They would, we dare to affirm, be disastrous in the extreme, 
sloping down to gulfs of cynicism undreamt of yet in our literature. 

Never praise another except in invidiam, says some wiseacre ; but 
the counsel does not concern us. We have no right to praise, and, 
in these papers, have not intended to praise. Our desire has been 
to call attention to certain tendencies (much under-estimated we 
think) in journalism ; to the relation of the theological spirit to 
patriotism, the apprehension of the truth in passing events, and 
sustained effort for the good of others ; then to offer a few words of 
homage, not prake, to three weekly journals which bear much of the 
brunt of the battle in the existing opposition to the tendencies in 
question, and which are yet widely different from each other in 
specific character. Of course newspapers, like men, have specific 
characters. Everybody must have been struck with the ma&ner in 
which distinguished names split off to opposing sides in the Eyre 
controversy ; and yet nothing happened except just what was to be 
expected. We cannot recall a single name that we did not find on 
the side which we should, beforehand, have instantly and decisively 
assigned to it. We found " theological " people taking a part which 
clearly belied the theological spirit ; but there was not a single instance 
of the kind which one's previous knowledge of individual tempera- 
ment and leaning did not enable one confidently to predict. The 
case is the same in journalism : when we once know the general 
character and the specific characteristic, we can make the necessary 
allowance or rectification, predict the course that will be taken, and 
retain our faith. Nov do we shrink from saying that a conscientious 
activity on the wrong side will always in the long run be found to 


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276 The Contemporary Review. 

have helped the right side. Let us not fear any fair fighting that 
has faith in it, however hard the blows ; but let us dread, like known 
perdition, whatever points to the issue that there is nothing worth 
fighting for. We cannot help dreading, also, the teaching, direct or 
indirect, that there is not Infinite Sympathy at our backs. If there 
are any who think there is something to fight for, and yet that there 
is no personal Power that watches the event, we say, he that is not 
against us is for us ; but the battle cannot and will not go on upon 
these terms, and such fighters do not know their own colours. But 
in the meanwhile let us know what we are about. We live in ticklish 
times. The working-classes, having been long and unjustly excluded 
from (a certain form of) political power, are now admitted to it ; but 
it remains to be seen whether we shall not be punished for our 
previous injustice to them, by being taught, to our cost, that their 
advent to power will be far from an immediate gain to liberal ideas. 
The writer of these lines firmly believes that that bitter lesson 
awaits us all. It was no part of our duty to postpone — no, not for 
an hour — an act of justice because we dreaded the immediate con- 
sequences ; but for those consequences we may surely prepare as well 
as we can. The question of national education, settle it as we please, 
comes late in the day — we have a long journey to go before we reach 
results. And in the meantime? We have already said what we 
think are the dominant tendencies of the hour. Much depends upon 
the individual outlook, and opinions must differ ; but what tee think 
we see is before the reader. A most threatening tendency to mere 
crowd- worship, or waiting on the will of numbers. A schtcarmerei of 
humanity without faith in God. An inclination to crush individual 
responsibility out of sight. A disposition to treat individual faith as 
of no great consequence. A tendency to promote a segregating des- 
potism under the name, or by the path, of Culture. The importation 
of the conceit of scientific certainty into a new and alien sphere. Now, 
the natural enemy of all these tendencies appears to us to be the theo- 
logical spirit, or, as we have defined it, the spirit of trust, believing 
in a Divine Purpose, and leaning on a Divine sympathy. And we 
have taken the liberty of adopting, rather as text-words than any- 
thing else, the names of three " old-established '* representative 
journals in which that spirit is the controlling power, because we 
desire to indicate the direction in which we see most to hope from the 
press in the difficult times which, we fear, are coming upon us. If 
less has been said of the journals themselves than of the conflict 
between what they stand for and what they oppose, it has been 
because the more serious purpose of the foregoing paragraphs 
crowded out the less serious. 

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MOOR'D on a warp the good ship lay, 
And toss'd like a child on its pillow at play ; 
Her head to the stream, 

That soak'd through the shingle, 
Its calm smooth wash with the waves to mingle, 
Like the drift of a dream, 
That lingers amidst the stir of day. 


And Herakles first through the breakers burst, 

Tho' he work'd in the waist at the midmost oar ; 
And lifting his bow o'er their crests of snow, 

Lest its string should be wetted, sprang out on the shore. 
Then said he, "Who will hie 

Up the hill by the rill, 
And fill us an urn at the fountain's eye ? 


" For from the fountain's virgin flow 

An urn must cool the wine-cup's glow, 

When its ruddy thanks the heroes pour 

To the gods on their winning the wish'd-for shore. 

Then who will speed, 

At the heroes' need, 
Up the hill by the rill, 

To the fountain's eye in its fringe of reed, 
While I make our cheer of the slaughtered deer, 
Struck to the heart in his flight of fear, 
Or boar, shot gnashing in mid career ? " 

* Continued from p. 263, vol. vi. 

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278 T/ie Contemporary Review. 


Then Hylas the fair, with the long maiden hair, 
And hands too soft for the oar-loom's wear, 

While Iason was tricing the rudder-blades up, 
And some loosed the wine- skin and felt for the cap, 
Slipped down from the stern, on his shoulder an urn, 
And sped o'er the shingle and up through the fern. 

With close-knit brow Herakles turn'd 

Against the glare that o'er him bum'd, 

And braced the tendon that wreath'd his bow. 

" — 'Tis too far and too steep for him. — Some of you go ! " 

And the rest leapt down from stern and prow, 

Before the behest of that close-knit brow ; 

All save Iason and Orpheus alone, 

Who stuck by the ship with a heart of their own, 

— Orpheus old and Iason young, 

Waiting while the good ship swung. 


But with white limbs fleet and sparkling feet 

Young Hylas fled up the rivulet's bed ; 
And we could discern, 
As shoreward the Argo swung her stern, 
How in flight as straight as a startled hern 
The boy and his shadow went skimming the fern ; 

Where the mountain's flank was plough'd aslant, 

As with a share of adamant. 


With burst of cheer we fotiow'd fain, 

For no one stay'd when Herakles bade ; 
As beagles after the leveret strain, 

We follow'd the darling of all our crew ; 
And we saw through the shade 

Of verdure plumed in the fountain dew, 
And round it in tremulous motion dancing, 
The boy and his urn like a sunbeam glancing. 


Slow of foot from toil were we, 
Dizzy from th' uproarious sea : 
Still we seemed to hear its roll, 

Still the tumbled pulse of ocean, 
Throbbing over deep and shoal, 

Held within our hearts its motion. 
Bugged and steep the channel wound 
O'er pebbles of agate water-ground, 
Where the wintry torrent's giant stride 
Had spurn'd its wreck o'er the mountain's side. 
But a summer stream, like a silver clue, 
Went threading the roek-ribb'd labyrinth through. 

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Hylas. 279 

Toppling, or balanced, or flung on an arch, 
O'er the havoc line of the water's march 
The crags in a ruin of glory lay, 
Yellow, and purple, and ashen grey, 
While many a keenly-twinkling spar 

And frosty edge of crystal vein 

Shot thro* the gloom of their cloudy grain ; 
And earth-fast monoliths few and far, 

Set like tusks in the jaw of the gorge, 

Now summer-dry from its frothy surge, 
Show'd the storm- wrath of its winter war. 

Through hart-ferns drooping the clammy tongue, 

And wild flow'rs waving the purple head, 
While the marble shelves to our footsteps rung, 

Steeply we followed that silver thread, 
Here and there a basin scooping, 
Here and there its current looping 
Bound some boulder torrent-lilted. 
Over sand from crystal sifted, 

Slowly we clomb in the maze it led. 

We knew that a haunt of the nymphs was there, 

For over every slab-piled stair 

Each broad- webb'd leaf that swims the air, 

Each fairy blade that beads the dew, 

A waving mantle of verdure threw ; 
And wild- wood vines their tendrils spun, 
With clusters purpling tow'rds the sun. 

At length we enter'd — the empty urn 
Idly cast among the fern 
Made no sign — we were alone : 
Whither, ah whither, was Hylas flown ? 
On the fountain's silent face 
Gazed we long, — it bare no trace. 
In its glassy pool we peer'd, 
Hopeful listen'd — while we fear'd. 
There we waited till the sun 

Threw the mountain's shadow far, 
Forest-crested, deep and dun, 

Then we fill'd the water-jar. 


By coppice and crag we wander'd long, 
Shouting the caverns and cliffs among. 
We chanted a snatch of his favourite song, 
Till our voices grew feeble that erst were strong. 
But into dead silence each shout sank down, 
As a pebble sinks in the. fountain thrown. 

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280 The Contemporary Review. 

" honey," we called him, " where art thou gone ? " 
And taught our sad tale to each oak of the vale, 

Till the sun sank down and the moon outshone ; 
Then we laid like a spell his name on the fell, 

And calTd upon echo to pass it on. 


But Herakles came from the slaughter' d game, 
With his brow all cloud and his eye all flame, 
With bow-string braced and with arrow nick'd, 
As thro' the copse his track he'd prick'd, 
As tho' he hunted still the deer ; 
— But oh, in our looks there was heavy cheer ! 


He call'd to the boy who was all his joy, 

And the name which each one loved who knew 

In windy circles wider flew. 

'Mongst the rifts where the Voice-Nymph dwells 

Fell the dinted syllables, 

Sharp and clear, as the woodman's stroke 

Rings on the bole of the forest oak. 

Far along by the Pontus' shore 

The scared sea-monsters heard his roar, 

And old Oceanus caught the sound 

Where his current swings the earth around. 


But the sounds died out in the hollow sky, 

As a watch-fire's sparks, when the morn is nigh, 

Die in embers ashen grey ; 

Then down like a baffled hound he lay, 

While one — the last and loudest yell — 

Like the crash of the oak 'neath the parting stroke, 
Thund'ring down and down the dell, 
Shook the mountain's pinnacle. 
Then dashed on earth he prostrate lay, 
Where the sods were wet from the fountain's play, 
And drank with the thirst of a beast of prey. 


But a soft whisper there, as he stoop'd o'er the brim, 

Like the shadow of a voice seem'd to fall on him ; 

Stirring the image within his soul, 

That ripple of sound o'er the stillness stole. 

And he spake not a word, but seem'd to know 

That his boy was lost in the fountain's flow. 

Then without farewell, or message to tell, 

To the comrades whom he loved so well, 

He was gone through the glen and was lost on the fell. 


Through knitted shades, over rock-slabs piled, 
Heavily down to the sea we filed. 

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Soon at supper we were set ; 

Hanger and grief in silence met ; 

Hunger fled, grief tarried yet. 

Cheerless thanks to the gods we quaff 1 d, 

No one over the wine-cup laugh'd. 

With the breeze behind and the moon before, 

And an empty place at the midmost oar, 

We hoised up the sail and we left the shore : 

There was wind enough to have winnowed wheat, 

80 we hoised it up with tack and sheet. 


Our hearts were sad and our words were few, 

And the moaning billows seem'd to rue 

Our stripling fair and our comrade true. 

For who, like Herakles, the stroke could hold, 

With square-set chest all sinew- scroll' d, 

When the sea broke short and the oar blade roll'd ? 

And who, like Hylas, the cup could pour, 

While the wind like a streamer his long hair bore, 

To freshen the work of the weary oar ? 


But from our trance of grief we broke, 
For Orpheus' voice and lyre awoke — 
Orpheus, whose vision-haunted eye 
Could all that is or was descry ; 
With lifted voice a strain he sung, 
Of Hylas fair, and bright, and young, 
While round the listening dolphins hung. 


" Oh lost, ever lost to thy comrades true, 
Fair as a maiden, and fresh as the dew ! 

The Naiads, who rise in the fountain foam, 
Wrought with a spell in their crystal well ; 
And caught thee, lulTd by sleepy charms, 
In the woven snare of their milk-white arms. 
Thou wakest beneath the water-dome, 
Far in the river-depths of earth, 
Where world-wide streams have central birth, 
Where vaulted ripples the sunbeam turn, 
And Eridanus rolls from his amber urn, 
And Tagus hideth his golden head ; 
On pearly slab, and coral bed, 

Thou risest up to the nectar-cup, 
From us for ever ravished ! 


" Oh, lost to the love of thy hero crew, 
Fair as the rosebud that dips in the dew, 
For the Naiads have wooed thee all too well, 
And won thee for ever with them to dwell I 


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282 The Contemporary Review. 

And now our memory fades from thee ; 
And the vivid rush of the rolling sea 

Ever wanes beneath the spell, 
Drop by drop on ear and eye 
Ever falling dreamily, 
Sapping drop by drop thy love 
For the beating heart of the world above, 
And blank oblivion wraps her veil 
O'er the hero-quest of the oar and sail. 


" Faint grows the form of the good ship now, 

Her high-peak'd stern and her swan's-neck prow ; 

As in the mist that scuds the sea, 

Forms into phantoms fade and flee, — 
A moment dim in thick air swim, 

Then are lost beneath our lee ! 
Such are we and ours to thee ! 
The goodly ship on her course shall run, 
As through the sky goes the rolling sun ; 
But thou art lost, and never again 
Shalt gladden the eyes of gods and men." 


So sang the seer, and the night wind fell, 
Lull'd by the notes of the warbled spell ; 
Then on our oars we caught the tune, 
As forth they flash'd beneath the moon ; 
And the white-webb'd sail was folded soon. 
We knew we were ploughing the magic water 
By the dread isle of the sun-god's daughter ; 
For from our prow, as it clave the surge, 
The spray fell in fire, like sparks from a forge. 
Along the sea, a league astern, 
A serpent meteor seem'd to burn, 
And every oar-blade's plunge was track' d 
By a sparkling cataract. 


But when we made the Colchian strand, 

We saw o'er the surf Herakles stand, 

With gloomy brow and with bow-oharged hand. 

All afoot, with lifted eyes 

Guiding his steps by the stars in the skies, 

He wander'd straight as an arrow flies. 

We slew the wise dragon, and won the bright Fleece, 

And turn'd back our prow tow'rds our own loved Greece ; 

Again he sat at the midmost oar, 

But saw his Hylas never more ! 


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Lift in the Light of God'* Word. Sermons by William, Lord Archbishop of 
York. London: John Murray. 1868. 

WEE career of Archbishop Thomson, like that of most men who have been 
JL very rapidly successful, brings with it a certain sense of disappointment. His 
Bampton Lectures on the Atonement gave promise of power to enter into 
and sympathize with the doubts and perplexities that vex men's minds. There 
was a width about them which made men hope that he would take his place 
among tho leaders of religious thought in England, reconcile conflicting ele- 
ments, " bring forth out of his treasure things new and old." Intellectually, 
his later work has been below the level of his earlier. Language and thought 
have become more conventional. Nothing comparable to the Bampton Lec- 
tures, or the " Outlines of the Laws of Thought," has appeared since his 
promotion to high places. But it would be wrong not to acknowledge that the 
Archbishop of York has of late taken up, with manifest earnestness, a work in 
which he may do much to restore to the Church of England the lost affection of 
the great masses, of the English people. Few members of the episcopate (if 
any) have shown so clear a perception of the evils which threaten our social 
life ; few have come forward so vigorously to oppose them. If there is less 
sympathy with thinkers at either extreme of theological thought, there is more 
for tne sufferings of the poor. No man (not even Mr. Maurice or Mr. Kingsley 
in his earlier days) has spoken stronger words against the selfish luxury which 
causes or aggravates or neglects those sufferings. He has put himself at the 
head of the earnest band ot reformers (many of them very far removed from 
his own theological convictions) who are bent on making our Pocr-Law system 
somewhat less brutal or less apathetic than it is at present. 

In the volume now before us Archbishop Thomson speaks in the same 
strain : — 

'* Half-seen under the lamplight, the ruined creatures, whom a sensual capital has used 
and cast away, as though God did not make them, glide about our streets and shame us. 
The workman that clothes us, or that fashions the pretty jewel that is to glisten on a 
round arm at a queen's court, you turned him from his two rooms because you wanted 
a nobler building ; he found one room afar off, and then, stifled and depressed, he fell 
sick, and he is in a workhouse sick-room, and his babes are in a workhouse nursery, 
where well-meaning people will honestly try to give him such tending as is consistent 
with careful repression of tho rates. He is in danger of passing, from one of those to 
whom we owe honour, for Christ's sake, into a thing, into one of the broken pot- 
sherds of our great feast, broken by accident and swept off carefully, that the feast may 

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284 The Contemporary Review. 

still go well and seemly. Then, it is a fact that in this capital, full of meat and luxury, 
men do starve to death. One reads that they die of some ailment * aggravated by ex- 
posure and want of food.' That is the technical phrase. We may say God made them 
to live their time out ; men let them die." 

And he sees, as Mr. Seeley says in the paper which we noticed last month, that 
almsgiving is but "patchwork ; " that the nation, and the Church as helping it, 
must grapple with the wider questions which press on it. 

"Education, sound and equal laws, public health, the intercourse of nations, the 
reformation of criminals ; there is not one of these subjects in which the minister of 
religion has not an equal interest with the social reformer. The Christian minister 
cannot do his work upon an untaught brutish mind, smarting under the oppression of 
a bad government, amidst every influence depressing to health, and surrounded 
by a criminal or vicious population. The cure of these evils, then, is an essential 
condition of the Christian teacher's success ; but it cannot stand instead of Christian 

Nor is it less to his honour that he speaks plainly and without shrinking of 
evils which the conventional "dignity of the pulpit" for the most part never 
mentions to " ears polite :" — 

" ( Am I my brother's keeper P ' The young girl carrying home her work sees as she 
passes the young man, whose looks and dress proclaim him to her foolish eyes the spoilt 
darling of a higher sphere of life, leaning easily on the rail, and without a thought of 
shame, tossing to and fro the joke and laugh with one whose life is a public shame. 
Once she sees it with a shock. Twice she sees it ; thrice she sees, and custom now has 
staled it, and there is no shock. By-and-by work grows slack, and hunger presses. 
She can no longer bear the punishment which society imposes, as it seems, on innocence. 
She lifts the latch and steps out, to return no more to any home where industry and 
purity dwell together. And what is that old story to you P Are you your sister's 
keeper P May you not amuse yourself as others do P To whom are you responsible f " 

These passages are fair samples of what seems to us the noblest element in 
the volume. Of the rest we cannot speak in detail. Students will find it least 
satisfactory, we think, where it comes on the border-land of exegesis. The 
sermon on Social Science shows something of the old power of grappling -with 
the question on the other border-territory of religion and philosophy. Throughout 
the style is vigorous afid effective, seldom over-florid, still more seldom falling 
into flatness. 

EVXOAOriON ; or, Book of Prayers. Being Forms of Worship issued by the 
Church Service Society. Edinburgh and London : Blackwoods. 1867. 
The wave of religious thought which passed over Europe some thirty or forty 
years ago, giving rise to various agitations in Germany and France, and stirring 
up in England the Tractarian movement, seems at last to have reached the 
Established Church of Scotland. There are not wanting signs that the thoughts 
of many members — especially of many ministers— of that Church have over- 
flowed the narrow channels provided by the Westminster divines of the seven- 
teenth century. Dr. Macleod and Dr. jRobert Lee do not look upon the great 
truths of Christianity with the eyes of Gillespie or Eutherford. Ana in the book 
before us we have an indication of a certain dissatisfaction with the services 
which have satisfied the aspirations of many generations. To use a book, or 
44 bits o' paper," in prayer and preaching; is no longer the abomination that 
once it was ; it is felt that " free prayer" is not necessarily fervent and devout, 
nor prayer said from a written form necessarily cold and dead. The " Church 
Service Society," from which the Ei>xo\6yiov emanates, is an association of 
ministers of the Church of Scotland, formed (to use their own words) for ' c the 
study of the liturgies, ancient and modern, of the Christian Church, with a 
view to the preparation, and ultimate publication, of certain forms of prayer for 
public worship, and services for the administration of the sacraments,' ' Ac 
They do not attempt to set on foot a movement for the general introduction of 
liturgical forms into the Scotch Church, but to fill up, with the best material 
that can be found, the wide chasm "between the bondage of a positive liturgy 
and the poverty of an absolutely extemporaneous service :" tney wish for a 
worship more solemn, uniform, and devout than the present services are. 
They wish, in short, to raise the general devotional tone of the Scotch Church, 
by setting before the minds of ministers and people examples of the noble 
and truly spiritual form in which the Church Universal has expressed its 

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Notices of Books. 285 

aspirations towards God ; and these they wish to gather, " not into a formal 
manual of devotion, but into a magazine of prayer, to which every minister 
might have access, and from which each might draw." The idea is not new ; 
" Ministers* Directories" are already sufficiently numerous. The leading pecu- 
liarity of the present collection is, that it draws largely from the ancient devo- 
tional literature of the Church. Its compilers avoid the old opprobrium of 
Scotch theology, that it ignored everything between the Apostles and John 

The selection is truly catholic ; examples are found in it both of the stately 
beauty of the early Eastern services and of the terse vigour of the Western 
collects : St. Ohrysostom and St. Leo, Jeremy Taylor and Archbishop Laud, 
the services of the English Church and of the Reformed Churches of the 
Continent, all contribute to this armoury of devotion. 

Wo hope that it may attain the end which its compilers have in view — that 
of giving greater warmth and breadth to the services of their Church— and 
that it may be a step towards a public liturgy formed on ancient models. 
For, to say nothing of the common defects of unwritten prayer, its tendency to 
degenerate into preaching, to substitute a recitation of the Divine attributes, or 
a series of particular requests, for the terse earnestness which should charac- 
terize prayer in the congregation, it seems to us very unfortunate that the 
Reformed Churches generally have severed themselves so completely from tho 
form and spirit of the old service-books ; it involves the loss of a valuable tra- 
dition ; and though, no doubt, at the time of the Reformation, the older books 
contained abundance of superstition, a careful hand might have gathered much 
wheat from the heap of mingled corn and chaff : to use Swift's homely illustra- 
tion, the lace might have been stripped off without tearing the coat. A rich 
store of Christian thought would have been found to remain after all false dogma 
and meretricious ornament had been removed. 

The motto on the title-page of the EvgoXoycov is Archbishop GrindaTs 
praise of the form and rite of the Reformed Church of Scotland ; referring, of 
course, to Knox's order, which was afterwards superseded by the " Directory" 
of the Westminster divines. It will be long, probably, before an English 
archbishop repeats this praise ; but if the Kirk develops services in the direc- 
tion indicated by the Evx<>\6ytov, we are by no means certain that it will not 
show itself, in some respects, wiser than the Church of England, 

Week-day Sermons. By R. W. Dale, M.A. London : Strahan & Co. 1867. 

Ix the second volume of this journal, we had occasion to speak of Mr. Dale's 
preaching powers in terms of high commendation. We are bound to say that 
this little volume fully justifies all that was then said ; indeed, that it is a 
farther carrying out of Mr. Dale's peculiar power which we then noticed : that, 
namely, of putting practical matters in the strong lijjht of Christian common- 
sense, and carrying conviction, even to the dullest mind, of the justice of his 
blame and praise. These " Week-day Sermons " seem to derive their character 
and title from a thought thus expressed in the preface :— 

" If Week-days are never thought about on Sundays, will not Sundays be forgotten 
on Week-days P Would it not be well for every man to spend an hour on the first 
day of the week thinkin g over — not the business affairs — but the morality of the other 

A glance at their subjects will teach the reader what to expect. " The Uso of 
the Understanding in keeping God's Law," "The Kindly Treatment of other 
Men's Imperfections," "Talebearing," "Unwholesome Words," "Anger," 
"Cheerfulness," "The Discipline of the Body," " Peaceableness and Peace- 
making," "The Perils and Uses of Eich Men," "Amusements," "Summer 
Holidays," " Christmas Parties." 

Some of the above titles might make certain of our readers fear lest their sub- 
jects should be, in a sermon, treated as they have been too much accustomed to 
see divines treat them beforetime. Against any such danger at the hands of 
Mr. Dale we can safely guarantee them. We are only sorry that the limits of 
a notice will not allow us to give them more ample specimens in justification 
than the following extracts may furnish. 

On one department of " The Kindly Treatment of other Men's Imperfec- 
tions " — viz., the treatment of dull people— he says : — 

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286 The Contemporary Review. 

u The only true wisdom is to accept the inevitable ; and, if we wish to ' fulfil the law 
of Christ/ we shall bear it as cheerfully as we can. So keen shafts of angry contempt 
will make these unfortunate men a whit more rational. You cannot sting them into 
cleverness. You may annoy them by showing your impatience, and making them feel 
it, but you cannot change them. You should remember that your quickness is as great 
a trouble to them as their slowness to you. If you and they have to live and work 
together, the sooner you accept them for what they are, the better it will be for both 

Sarties. It may be almost unendurable to you, who commonly travel express, to be 
oomed for fifty miles to the misery of a ' parliamentary ;' but when this is your fate* 
it is of no use stamping your feet and knitting your brows and getting out of temper. 
You must tako weak men as you find them, and place your strength at the service of 
their weakness. If they are blind, it is for you to see for them, and to keep them out 
of harm's way ; if they are lame, it is for you to let them lean on your arm and to 
moderate your own speed to theirs. 

" There is nothing else to be done ; no fuming and fretting will make any difference ; 
by gentleness and patience you will serve yourself best as well as them. Sometimes, 
too, these heavy dull-eyed people have real solid sense to which our conceit blinds us. 
The leaden casket sometimes contains the jewel. By self-restraint and forbearance we 
can sometimes get substantial service from men whom in our haste we thought hope- 
lessly stupid." 

The following is really refreshing in the midst of the morbid views which 
are, we fear, gaining ground with the half-grown and half-edncated among us : — 

" It is quite true that Christendom has encouraged what a Catholic writer calls, 'a 
holy melancholy.' For myself, I find nothing holy in it, and the means which have 
encouraged it appear to me flagrantly unchristian. What right have we, for instance, 
to make a crucifix the centre of Christian worship ? Could the angels of the sepulchre 
revisit the world again, and appear in their own shining forms in the cathedrals and 
churches of continental Europe, they would point with gestures of amazement and grief 
at the images of Christ's last agony, around which the millions of the Catholic Church 
continually gather ; they would repeat the words which they uttered eighteen centuries 
ago to the sorrowing women who had come in the early morning to render to the dead 
body of Christ the last offices of despairing love. They would exclaim again, * He is not 
here*— not in the pepulchre— not on the cross — 'He is risen.' If the death of Christ, 
while still holding the supreme place in the memory of the Church, no longer concealed 
from us His present power and glory, much of the ' holy melancholy ' which has been 
mistaken for devoutness would disappear." 

This, with which we shall conclude our notice, strengthens our guarantee : — 

" Dancing itself need not be wrong ; and the sweeping moral objections to it which 
have sometimes been urged from the pulpit are unpardonable insults to thousands of 
women who are as pure-minded as any in the country. There may be Borne dances 
which good taste and delicate moral feeling disapprove, but so long as high-minded 
English ladies find pleasure in the ball-room, no one shall persuade me that the offen- 
sive and indiscriminate charges which have been recklessly flung out against dancing 
have any truth in them. But these charges may be all false, and yet there may be very 
adequate grounds for discouraging balls. It is very pleasant to see a dozen or a score 
of graceful children, daintily dressed, dancing on a lawn in summer time, or, with the 
bright red berries and rich green leaves of the holly and the pale-white mistletoe 
about them, on Twelfth Night. Children were made to dance as birds were made to 
sing. They sleep sounder for it and wake up all the fresher the next morning. And 
if youna: men and women find themselves getting chilly on a snowy winter's day, or if 
their spirits are very exuberant, I cannot see why they may not push the tables aside 
and ask some one to sit down at the piano and play the ' Lancers.' But for people to 
leave home deliberately at ten o'clock at night, with the intention of dancing for three 
or four hours, appears to me to be a violation of all the laws and principles which should 
determine the choice of our pleasures." 

"Wo can only recommend our readers to lay this volume of Mr. Dale's in stock 
as soon as may be. For reading aloud, and exciting friendly discussion, we 
hardly know any modern book like it. 

Memories of Olivet By J. E. Macduff, D.D. London: Niabet 

Unlike the philosopher who sat on the Mount of Olives, and found no 
thought suggested by tho scene save the povertv of the agriculture around, 
Dr. MacduH has sat and mused, and found the Mount to be to him the Mount 
of Inspiration. The volume consists of twenty chapters, of which the first is 
topographical and introductory, and the others are, in fact, a series of oontem- 

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Notices of Books. 287 

plative sermons, each with a setting, topographical and historical, more 
elaborate than we ordinarily meet with in pultut discourses. There is not, 
perhaps, much that is original in the work, but there is the charm of freshness. 
The impressions photographed at the moment under the living light of the 
Mount are thoroughly truthful. There is often force, almost always a soft and 
entle beauty, in Dr. Macduff's style. Thus, in commenting on the message to 

" We oaimot all give magnificent offerings, or have our names associated with mag- 
nificent deeds for the furtherance of His cause and kingdom ; we cannot all be equipped 
with apostolic seal and fervour ; we cannot all, with a Luther spirit, be ' heroes in the 
fight ;' but we can leave ( footprints ' to give heart and hope to the ' shipwrecked 
brother.' We can give the mite to the treasury when we hare neither the pound nor 
the talent ; we can give the lowly animal when we have no other royal tribute. If we 
have not this, wq can strew the garment on the way ; and if oven the garment be un- 
worthy, poverty can cut down its own palm branches ; and with these, poverty's own 
offering, the symbol of willing spirit and loyal heart, we can swell the jubilant 
hosanna."— (P. 160.) 

Dr. Macduff *8 " Memories " run through the few Old Testament allusions to 
Olivet. The sermon on Solomon's High Places on the Mount is an impressive 
warning on the " perpetuative power of evil influences." In the sermon on 
the " Bed Heifer the author has seized with much power on the lessons to be 
derived from the Rabbinical tradition of the heifer being driven across the 
viaduct which spanned the Eedron valley, passing over the graves of the dead 
without defilement. It is, however, scarcely necessary to remark that the tradition 
is without foundation in mot. But the greater part of the volume is, of course, 
occupied by the Gospel memories, spiritualised and lighted up by the warmth of a 
•love evoked to new expressions of its fervour under the local associations. Tet 
there is scarcely one discourse which the critic could chide as exaggerated or 
fanciful. Some of Dr. MacdufFe illustrations and conjectures strike us as new 
and worthy of consideration even in those critical fields which he professes to 
decline to enter, e.g., his suggested identification of Beth-Haccerem, or Frank 
Mountain, with the place of Abraham's sacrifice. Certainly it is a place that 
can be seen " afar off," and dovetails better into the narrative than Gerisim or 
the Temple site. 

Sermon* on Subject* of the Day, By Distinguished Catholic Prelates and Theo- 
logians. Dublin : W. B. Kelly. 1868. 

The Fan-Anglican Conference had an immediate predecessor across the 
Atlantic, which may have had more to do than we were aware of with the strong 
desire expressed by the American and Canadian Episcopal Churches for such a 
token of their unity with the Anglican. On Sunday, October 7th, 1866, there 
met in Baltimore the " second plenary Council of the Catholic Church of the 
United States," "the largest ever held in Christendom since the Council of 
Trent." It numbered 7 archbishops, 38 bishops, 3 mitred abbots, 49 mitred 
prelates, and upwards of 120 of the most eminent clergy. They met "with 
magnificent robes, with mitres on their heads, and each bearing a crazier in his 
hand," under the sanction of the Pope's apostolic letters. They telegraphed a 
message of greeting to Pius IX., and received on affectionate written answer. 
Fourteen sermons (collected in the volume before us} were preached during the 
session. They ended with a Pastoral Letter. Their decrees, drawn up in Latin, 
are not, it would seem, published. The " Sermons" do not appear, as far as a 
cursory inspection enables us to judge, to rise above the usual level of Romish 
rhetoric. The "especial favour " which " the Lord " has bestowed on the United 
States is duo to the fact that they are " especially associated with the honour of 
his blessed Mother." Did not Columbus sail in the Santa Maria ? Did he not 
name an island after the Immaculate Conception? Has not "one church in 
every five" throughout the country the " ever-glorious Mother of God " for its 
patroness? (P. 137.) The "idea of the priesthood is incomplete without the 
celibacy of the clergy." (P. 145.) "The ark of Peter floated," and still, of 
course, floats, "securely amid the deluge of the nations." (P. 144.) The 
absence of any trace of insight into the great questions, moral, social, religions, 
which men around them are trying to face, and, if possible, to solve, is almost 

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288 The Contemporary Review. 

as striking in the Baltimore Encyclical as in that of Lambeth. On two points 
only do we notice any reference in this volume to the great straggles through 
which the United States have passed. A preacher char&es the " Know-nothing" 

£ party with haying taken their watchword from Caiapnas ("Ye know nothing at 
all' 1 )* and with opposing the Catholic Church as he opposed its Divine Head. 
. 208.) The Council, through the Pastoral Letter, declare that they " could 
ve wished that, in accordance with the action of the Catholic Church in past 
ages in regard to the serfs of Europe, a more gradual system of emancipation 
could have been adopted." 

It would be unjust not to acknowledge that the " Sermons" give evidence of 
considerable culture, often rise into something like eloquence, and are not, so 
far as we have read, disfigured by the violence which has often of late charac- 
terized the language of the Sermons and Charges of Gallican and Irish prelates 
• of the same Church. 


Leaves from the Journal of Our Life in the Highlands, from 1848 to 1861. 
Edited by Arthub. Helps. London : Smith, Elder, & Co. 

If we would discover for ourselves what the ideal of any given period has 
been, we could scarce do better than search the secret corners of the lives 
of those who, either from birth or from force of character, occupied the most 
conspicuous places in it. For that which men consciously and openly elaborate 
is often but a kind of fancy -pictured screen concealing from all, save the most 
penetrating, the genuine movements of imagination and desire. Those whose 
outward and inward lives are knit into one by the nexus of truth, which in 
other words is unconscious consistency, are, if not artists, yet workers in that 
wondrous material out of which all art is made. Their life, when turned 
inward upon itself with sufficient intensity to reproduce itself, is a revelation 
of possibilities, a finer or ruder presentation of an ideal, in which all true men 
and women find their hearts — their most secret aspirations, joys, despairs, doubts, 
and fears — faithfully reflected. Without this unconscious consistency colouring 
and intensely deepening down to the very core of individual life, and through 
that ultimately of national life also, there can be no true art. Greece was 
most mistress of perfect forms when her sun was waning to a cold December 
sunset, and the elegancies of a Medicean court were but poor many-coloured 
disguises hung over oppressive vacancy and faithlessness. The high ideals that 
rest on the commonest relations and the most simple beliefs had gone astray — 
were actually lost ; and only the poor coat of many colours remained. And 
as it is with nations, so has it often been with indiviauals. 

The wonderful sympathy — the deep and genuine interest — with which the 
nation has received the Queen's two books is a testimony to their truthfulness ; 
and at the same time a proof that in the life of the writer the common ideal 
has been so lifted up as to lighten and brighten the whole field of English 
domestic life. What our Queen has said takes really little adventitious interest 
from her lofty position ; for she writes simply as the woman, out of the fulness 
of a heart keenly alive to all the highest and purest human influences ; the 
sovereign disappearing, that the woman's heart may sincerely justify itself in 
the hearts of all her subjects. Doubtless, her Majesty, with that noble uncon- 
sciousness of self which led her with such simple graphicness and unrestrained 
frankness to write many passages in this beautiful and touching book, 
would have preferred that it should have been faithfully kept, as it was origin- 
ally meant to be, under the seal of a womanly reticence. JBut love and duty— 
instinctive desire and a keen sense of the claims of others — do not go harmo- 
niously hand in hand in the light— often, alas ! the " fierce light— that beats 
upon a throne," any more than in the cottage of the humblest peasant. Our 
Queen has laid "her nearest, her dearest" memories and experiences on the 
altar of duty at once to the living and the dead ; and in the self-denial that for 
others' sake will expose the treasures it would naturally guard and keen from 
the common eye with the utmost jealousy, shows herself a woman doubly 

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Notices of Books. 289 

crowned— wearing -under the circlet that burns inward, and makes royal heads 
"lie uneasy/' the " crown of wifehood and pure lowlihead," sending sub- 
duing and quickening light outward. For this Journal is emphatically a 
woman's book, and owes its existence entirely to that deepest feeling of woman's 
heart which would almost burn itself away if by that it might kindle a glow 
of feeling in which others might justly see the worth and beauty of the character 
in which its ideal enshrined itself. Hence the peculiar manner in which 
" Albert " indirectly moves before us in these pages. The widowed heart, driven 
into a self-conscious brooding over its own treasures by rude and unhallowed 
influences from without, is forced for relief to make a history for itself, as did 
poor Elaine, to fortify herself against the rude taunts of her friends. But at 
last the stricken queenly heart must return to its own unconscious and faithful 
pictures, written before that self-consciousness (which too often leads to morbid 
helplessness and hopelessness) had cast its shadow athwart them at once to dim 
and to distort. Our Queen is braver and truer than the Elainee of Arthurian 
fable. The fact of her giving the public this diary is the best proof we could 
possibly receive of the healthfullness and truthfulness of her character. If she 
feels herself unequal to doing the partial justice of drawing-room and levee, 
she can admit all ner subjects, from highest to lowest, to share her inmost con- 
fidences so far as they are worthy of such a trust. And the publishing of this 
diary was truly a wise and prudent step, inasmuch as, while it opens the door 
to the inmost chamber of the royal heart, it only admits those who are prepared 
for the revelation. Those who delight themselves in mere gossip, rolling it like 
a morsel under the tongue — the sweeter to their taste the loftier the personage 
it concerns — will find here something for them, but something which we hope 
will carry that kind of reproach which hides itself in an oppressive and embar- 
rassed silence. The Prince Consort, as seen through the Queen's emotions, 
remains the high and pure and noble character we had figured him, and yet 
no more than the good genuine man, little concerned for himself compared 
with his warm concern for others; and we can easily trace through this 
book his quiet, benignant, and elevating influence. In thus showing us how 
much she has lost in him, her Majesty sufficiently justifies herself in the 
privacy she has eo steadily sought since he was taken from her side. 

Were any one to ask us what during the past twenty-five years has been the 
highest influence in English life and English thought, we should without the 
least hesitation refer them for answer to her Majesty's books. All the loftier, 
more liberal, and humanizing tendencies of this period are here lifted up and 
concentrated in the lives of the two most elevated persons in the realm. And 
not only so, but through their clearness and directness of character the light 
returns in concentrated rays, becoming the more powerful as they diffuse 
themselves the farther — the remotest corners feeling most powerfully the force 
of their example and their aspirations. Thus the book, though written by a 
Queen, is in essence democratic. In this respect it is unique in the annals of 
all literature. The rank which separates classes, obscuring those elements 
of genuine manhood and womanhood, here becomes a medium to aid in the 
clearer and wiser discernment and appreciation of worth down even to the very 
lowest grade. That passage describing one of her visits to poor old women 
near Balmoral is inexpressibly touching, and is of value as showing her Majesty's 
fine notion of character, and her unfeigned and simple delight in lowly things 
and persons. It would not be easy for any person of lower rank to speak of 
common domestics with the respect and even the love our Queen does, without 
some apparent compromise of position; but now that she has thus spoken, 
much in the same direction seems possible to all of us. Perhaps her Majesty 
has unconsciously done more to aid a settlement of the vexed domestic-servant 
question than all our noisy theory-ridden political economists put together. 

But besides this, the book is a testimony, strong though indirect, that, 
essentially, the marked political movements of the last quarter of a century 
have not only been anticipated by royalty, but looked forward to with at least 
a feeling of satisfaction. Of such an upheaving and mixing of all the ranks as 
heralded the great French Bevolution, her Majesty has no fear, because through 
her own example she seeks to mix the various classes by that method which best of 
all maintains them, making each helpful and necessary to the other. Her serenn 
faith in the justice of her people, and their regard for whatsoever is worthy 
vol. vn. u 

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290 7 he Contemporary Review. 

and beautiful, enables her to cherish such a sense of security as a reduction of 
the franchise would be the last thing in the world to disturb. And if we mis- 
take not, her Majesty's faith is well founded. Brilliance of court-life and 
maintenance of that gay display, which for a time may please and infect the 
lower middle class, keeping it busy, and perhaps making it half-mad with the 
gains poured thoughtlessly into its lap, did not save the noble, simple " peasant- 
girl of Trianon' ' from the rough handling of a grim Paris mob. But Queen Victoria, 
through the purity of her instincts as wife and mother, has seen more deeply, 
and, in the very feet of not yielding to a temporary clamour, has established 
an infinitely higher place for herself in the hearts of all classes of her people. 

Mr. Helps, who has performed his editorial work with nice discrimination, 
has done well in giving us some of those little glimpses of more buoyant 
experience, and he nas also done wisely in keeping chiefly before the mind's 
eye in his introductory paragraphs those points of character which give the 
necessary supplement to much in the volume, and which come with force and 
fitness from a hand like his. 

We have said that this royal book reveals at once an ideal and a tendency — 
the ideal of a sovereign, the tendency of a people and a period. It is the glory 
of Queen Victoria that the highest tendencies are impersonated in her, and 
that her ideal, worn near her inmost heart, is the highest symbol and expres- 
sion of these. For in what does the England of our time specially differ from 
the England of all former times P In this, that it is more domestic— that more 
and more clearly it is practically seen that all real reform must begin 'with 
purity of life, and loftiness of aim and purpose springing out of it, saturating- 
and fertilizing the whole field of life. Let our England be for a moment 
compared with the England of the Second Charles, or even of the Fourth 
George, and what a difference! And the difference between the oourte of 
these periods and ours is not greater than the difference between the general 
ideals of life and duty, and the efforts made to realize them. 

Is it too much to hope that the Queen's books may administer a great 
impulse to that reform which is the key to all other reforms, so that, graduating 
downwards, "the sweetness and the light" of genuine Christian feeling and 
example, which has thrown round the throne a new halo in which abuse or 
absolutism is impossible, may so brighten the majority of individual lives, that 
each of us may more and more become kings and queens of that province 
hardest to rule of all — the kingdom within ourselves ? 

Memoirs of Sir Philip Francis, K.C.B., with Correspondence and Journals* 
Commenced by the late Joseph Parses, Esq. ; completed and edited by 
Herman Mebiyale, M.A.. Two Volumes. London: Longmans. 1867. 

These volumes acquaint us with the life of a man often mentioned but little 
known, and are a welcome addition to the political biography of the days of 
George ILL, with whose reign Sir Philip Francis' career almost exactly coin- 
cided. The son of a scholar— the well-known translator of Horace— he passed 
from St. Paul's School, at the age of sixteen, into a Government office, employing 
his leisure in perfecting his classics and in making himself thoroughly master of 
the constitution and history of his country. At the end of sixteen years 
(1756—72) as a Government clerk, he spent six (1774—80) as a Member of 
Council in Bengal, and thirteen (1784 — 1807) in Parliament, dying at seventy* 
eight, December 22, 1818. His great posthumous distinction was founded in 
the first of these periods, when, as an anonymous newspaper correspondent and 
pamphleteer, he shook the political world to its centre for about ten years, 
leaving a nom de plume which it has long been the puzzle of political antiquaries 
to bring home to the writer. Those stinging and intemperate invectives 
in the years 1769—72, aimed at the King and the administrations of the Dnke 
of Grafton and Lord North, under the signature of " Junius," are better known 
than his earlier productions in 1763-4, at tho age of three-and- twenty, under 
the name of " Candor," which were of real service to his country. The memorable 
seizure of the North Briton by Government in 1763 brought up a host of writers, 
having not the least sympathy with the demagogue Wilkes, but most eagerly 
criticizing the act itself, which they maintained to be a gross breach of constitu- 
tional liberty ; and it is to the discussions that thus ensued that we owe the 

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Notices of Books. 29 1 

peat boons of a free press and the publicity of parliamentary debates. The 
Brochures of " Candor, on the popular aide of the question, soon attracted the 
chief attention. The assumed character of an old man, the. affectation of legal 
phrase, a date from Gray's Inn, were the shifts employed to turn off all 
eyes from the hidiug-place of the marksman, and little enough did Cabinet 
Ministers guess that the arrows which wounded them were shot by a stripling 
in one of their own offices. The most remarkable of the "Candor" series, 
though only a half-a-crown pamphlet of 135 pages, was an elaborate treatise 
that oecame the precursor of Fox's Libel Bill, and that drew from Horace 
Walpole the compliment that it was the only tract that ever made him under- 
stand law. Its title was, "An Inquiry into the Doctrine of Libels, Warrants, 
and Seizures of Papers." When " Junius " wrote a few years afterwards, the 
town could pretty well recognise the pen of " Candor " again ; but the author- 
ship remained as much a mystery as " Junius " himself till 1860, when Mr. 
Parkes cleared it up by discovering a " Candor " autograph in the writing of 
" Junius " among the papers of Woodfall, the printer of both. 

This indefatigable inquirer took incredible pains to trace all the anonymous 
contributions of Francis, under his various signatures, through the periodical 
press of the time. Unfortunately, at the time of his death (1864), he had only 
completed his memoir to where the Junian Letters commenced, aud all that now 
remains of his industry for this period is a mass of miscellaneous material, membra 
disjecta) whose connecting links were all carried in the collector's mind and 
memory and have perished with his decease. But such an elaborate plan do these 
fragments reveal, tnat Mr. Merivale remarks it would have taken ten years more 
of Mr. Parkes' life, and many volumes, to complete the researches on the scale 
of the " Candor " period. It was too muoh to expect such a continuation except 
from one who had made the inquiry his hobby : from a person whose map of 
intellectual labour is already sketched out before him, as Mr. Merivale'smustbe, 
it could hardly be looked for. Yet he has not been unworthy of his predecessor in 
these volumes, and there will be multitudes of curious eyes to scan his pages in 
search of the old secret of " Junius." The peering curiosity of Francis con- 
temporaries began to connect him with this signature even in his lifetime ; but 
he successfully baffled it till his old age, when the appearance, in 1814, of a 
pamphlet entitled " Junius Identified" seemed to make his secret hardly 
tenable any longer. A few meagre biographical sketches have left Francis 
still only an obscure personage to this generation, and the knowledge of 
most people is probably limited to what Macaulay wrote of him in his " Warren 
Hastings." The present full " Memoirs " will be enjoyed by a reader who can 
enter freely into political by-paths ; and if any one has not this taste, these 
volumes are just such as may tempt him to try. Let him put himself in the 
mood of a sportsman ; and under the guidance of Messrs. Parkes and Merivale 
he will follow, on the one hand, the War Office olerk in his almost daily move- 
ments (which his own journal has most minutely chronicled), and his corre- 
spondence (of which he kept copies, his own letters included), and then the traces 
of the masked figure of " Junius " on the other. For this is the nature of the 
evidence ; there is no more direct and explicit proof now — not even with Mr. 
Parkes' researches — than there was when " Junius Identified " came out. Not 
the most distant confession is met with. But then the movements of Francis, 
with the revelation of his thoughts in journals and letters, and the dates of 
publication and the subjects of the " Junius" satires, match like substance and 
shadow. When the Public Advertiser has no Junius in its columns, it is 
accounted for by Francis being recorded on his travels, or being sick. 
Does "Junius" on one occasion observe a certain sequence of thought 
suggested by what is going on in the political world ? Some letter of Francis 
is detected of nearly the same date with an association of ideas curiously 
similar. Are certain public characters noticed to have been unexpectedly 
avoided by Junius' lash ? Some known peculiar personal relation of Francis to the 
same characters accounts for it. Every now and then a memorandum or a part 
of a letter in the Francis manuscripts seems on the certain track towards proof 
direct; but just then the clue snaps, for Francis' own scissors have neatly 
removed the very piece that was wanted, and so the game has taken to the 
earth. The catalogue of Francis' library shows that every book quoted by 
"Junius" and "Candor" was on his shelves, and bound- up collections of 


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292 T*he Contemporary Review. 

every separate edition of these brochures annotated by his hand were there too. 
On the other hand, in all the enormous mass of the Francis remains nothing 
has boon found irreconcilable with his having been the man. It is throughout 
an underground chase, and all the first volume, which is occupied in these 
inquiries, possesses the excitement, the disappointment, and the dryness of such a 
pursuit. Francis was not a recluse, but from his position and duties he had to 
mingle freely with others while ''Junius" and ''Candor'* were being most 
talked of ; and sometimes he was under the very eye of those who were being 
roughly handled ; all which makes the possibility of his secret so remarkable. 
Indeed, there seems almost an absolute necessity that three persons at least 
(one of them Woodfall, his printer) must have been in it, and yet there is 
no actual proof. The burden of this concealment is said to have had a marked 
effect on his character and habits, making him as wary in conversation as " a 
chess-player who saw ten moves before him," and over-hesitating at last even 
on indifferent topics ; and in truth there were things in " Junius" that might 
well prove a load on the mind. The " Memoirs " give some pleasant pages of 
his bearing before the scrutiny of those who approached him after the appear- 
ance of "Junius Identified;" how adroitly ne avoided, or how fiercely he 
silenced, the impertinent question. Samuel Sogers once at Holland Mouse 
had to retire very small and discomfited ; but the reader should not miss a 
beautiful anecdote (belonging to an earlier year) of Burke, whom Francis him- 
self could only have inferred to be convinced of the identity by his excessive 
delicacy of demeanour. 

We must forbear to touch on his Indian career, which was one long quarrel 
with his chief, Warren Hastings, with whom at length he duelled. Immediately 
after this he came home thoroughly disgusted, and dedicated himself to a par- 
liamentary life for the persecution of the great governor, at whose protracted 
trial he was one of the most constant spectators. His politics were strongly 
Whig, and he patronized the French Revolution even at the cost of the noble 
Burke's friendship. Among his letters is a very amusing description of an 
evening passed at the Pavilion with H.B.H. the Begent, whose close friend he 
was ; and also a very damaging criticism of Wellington's movements in the 
Peninsula— damaging to the critic. There are two portraits of Sir Philip 
Francis (his K.C.B. he obtained from the prince, a poor compensation for the 
governor-generalship, on which his heart was set), one of them his full-length 
caricature; also facsimiles of the "Junius" handwriting. The work is pro- 
vided with an alphabetical index and a genealogical stemma. A chronological 
table would have been a valuable addition. 

We have noticed the following typographical errors : — At vol. i. p. 413, line 9, 
"look" should perhaps be "lock;" at vol. ii. p. 410, "prostrate" should be 
"prostate;" and p. 413, "Dec. 23" should be "Dec. 22," as at vol. i. p. v. 
In the index, " Devonshire, Marchioness of," should be " Downshire." 

Memorials of the Rev. Andrew Crichton, B.A., of Edinburgh and Dundee. 
Edited by the Bev. W. G. Blatjoe, D.D. London : James Nisbet & Go. 
Mb. Cricrton died in his thirtieth year, just when his powers were becoming 
mature and beginning to shine out with clear and steady lustre. Had he been 
spared, his peculiar gifts would undoubtedly have made him famous beyond the 
bounds of his church and country. A youth spent amid the purity and pious 
simplicity of a Scottish manse ; an industrious, happy, and highly successful 
college curriculum ; a collegiate charge, in which marked differences of ten- 
dency only seemed to cement more closely two good men alike sincere and 
earnest in Christian work ; marriage, and induction to an independent charge 
in Dundee, where, contrary to all the prognostications of his friends, he laboured 
with the utmost success—these are the few facts of Mr. Crichton's outer life, 
which was singularly quiet and uneventful. But his inner life was more 
remarkable. This, however, was not on account of doubts, difficulties, fiery 
strivings, and questionings. His mental being developed itself through an abiding 
serenity of spiritual atmosphere, which, from first to last, suffused, as with a 
gentle halo of summer sunset, his every thought and word, imparting that 
softened brightness which often, with meditative natures, expresses along with 
cheerful, almost buoyant love of nature, a peculiar shade of melancholy. 
" Bring Katie, that I may say good-bye to her, and then I'll slip aivay, 19 ' 

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Notices of Books. 293 

among his last words, and they are typical ; and yet more the strange remark at 
p. 31, aptly quoted by Dr. Brown. But the little " bit of a wail, as he play- 
fully called it, scrawled with a nenoil during illness, is, perhaps most of all so. 
Mr. Grichton was not a poet, but a little more intensity would have made him 
one. The nearness with which he tremblingly touched the confines of poetry 
was the secret of his success as a preacher, and the source of his peculiar 
power over men of far stronger, more firmly-knit natures. His main charac- 
teristics were, fineness of insight in discriminating varied shades of thought, 
and warmth of imagination in presenting truth—dear, vivid, concrete — yet 
never without due balance of spiritual suggestion. Add to all this a peculiar 
sensitiveness to lofty suggestions, and an intellect so keen and pliable that it suf- 
fered nothing to go forth again till it had been rolled over and over in its many 
folds and steeped in its own dyes. He used to make acknowledgments of benefit to 
his colleague, Dr. Brown, yet Dr. Brown could never trace anything as having 
been derived from him (p. 30). Mr. Grichton was wonderfully alive, also, to 
the mental movements and needs of his day, as seen in his sketch of Frederick W. 
Robertson, and more especially in the little snatch of the lecture on " The His- 
torical Christ" here given on " Ecce Homo." He there almost anticipates the 
ground Mr. Gladstone has taken up with so much thought, and he speaks with 
such point and snggestiveness, that we cannot help feeling the editor would have 
done well had he given his readers the whole of that lecture. The introductory 
memoir is skilfully, pleasantly written ; and, on the whole, this is one of the 
best books of the kind we have read for a long time, and we hope it will meet, 
as it deserves, with a favourable reception. 

The History of India, from the Earliest Period to the Close of Lord DalhovMs 
Administration. By John Class Marshman. 3 vols. London : Longmans. 
The bulk of this work relates to the century of Anglo-Indian dominion, 
only one-half of the first volume referring, by way of introduction, to the 
" earliest" times, as Mr. Marshman's chief object is to furnish the students of 
Calcutta University with a continuation of Elphinstone's Hindoo and Ma- 
homedan periods. Those readers who want less than a learned investigation 
supported by authorities will find this noteless manual excellently answering 
then? purpose. Its author will not be offended by our saying that intne Olive and 
Hastings period we feel we are not in the track of that magic pen which creates 
such breathless suspense over the field of Plassey, startles us with the circum- 
vention of Omichund and the execution of Nuncomar, and inspires so warm an 
interest in the brave Bohillas, the spoliated Begums, and the impeachment in 
Westminster Hall. We have, however, a plain sterling narrative from a sen- 
sible and masculine mind, arresting attention at the landmarks and turning- 
points of the subject, and sufficiently detailed to carry the reader's interest 
all the way. We naturally inquire how Toung India is here informed as to 
the origin of that great foreign domination he finds overshadowing him; and 
we are glad to see that Mr. Marshman does not tell his tale in the censorious 
strain that some Englishmen indulge themselves in, who can only see the 
blots, as though this great empire, which is the wonder of modern days and 
an untold blessing to millions, were cradled only in ambition, violence, and 
fraud. Mr. Marshman nalliates nothing that is immoral in the administration 
or the administrators of India, but he is ever disposed to say what fairly may 
be said in favour of such as cannot be wholly defended; and as to the Com- 
pany's successive territorial extensions, he shows how they were in the main 
the results of fair and honest necessity, and neither the robber's nor the 
tyrant's. This is not only the most wholesome instruction for our Indian sub- 
jects, but it is in itself, we are convinced, the most iust view to take. We 
must not expect to find more contemporary virtue in India than in England, 
and some of the noblest administrative ability and purity in modern times have 
been furnished by this oriental peninsula, Lord Dalhousie, who preceded the 
mutiny, being a distinguished specimen. What a marvellous tale it all is, and 
on what a splendid theatre ! The old Moguls and all their Asiatic grandeur, how 
they seize tne imagination ! And taking them all in all, what a fine set of men 
the Governors and Governor-Generals have proved ! What imperishable renown 
the Anglo-Indian sword has won ! How stupendous has been the scale of its 

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294 5Tfo Contemporary Review. 

disasters — and its recoveries too ! And the quiet Christian heroism of India's 
apostles, taking back the westering light to the multitudinous east, is worthy to 
be mentioned with all this. But whereabouts in these three good volumes do 
we see justice done on this head P Tet an author of the name of Marehman 
must be the last person unaoquainted with or uninterested in the Christendom 
that is now wrestling with India. 

A Century of Birmingham Life; or, A Chronicle of Local Event*, from 1741 to 1841: 
Compiled and edited by John Alfred Langford. Vol. L Birmingham : 
Osborne ; London : Simpkin, Marshall, & Co. 1868. 

Mb. Langford has had the happy idea of extracting a local history from the 
file of an old-established provincial paper. Not the leaet merit of his book will 
be that of setting an example, which is sure to be followed from time to time 
wherever similar files may have been preserved, whether of one newspaper or 
of successive ones — the latter case being the more likely one, since few journals 
can boast of the longevity of Arie's Birmingham Gazette. 

The present volume extends from 1741 to 1791, and its half-century no doubt 
comprises the raciest portion of the work, at least for its contemporaries, since who 
knows how quaint a figure we may ourselves cut in the eyes of our descendants 
three-quarters of a century hence ? And although the main interest of its 
contents must be for the author's fellow-townsmen, for whom every name of 
street and institution and house, every surname almost, has a meaning, yet it 
is none the less full of value for all who can take a relish in the familiar life of 
the English people during the last century, and a future Maoaulay is sure to 
draw largely on it for illustrations of a future History of England for the period 
to which it refers. A stranger to Birmingham may, indeed, be apt to take 
exception to the length of the work, and to its many repetitions, and perhaps 
the best mode in which its stores might be rendered available for general use 
would be by means of a skilful "gutting" article in one of the standard 
Quarterlies. It is impossible to do more here than give a foretaste of the 
results of such a prooess. 

Advertisements as to runaway wives, 1741 to 1751 : — 

No. 1, the penitent husband : — 

" Having advertised my wife, Elizabeth Slater, for eloping from me, for which I own 
I am very sorry, she being returned again, I do hereby promise to pay any one that ehaU 
truet her for the future." 

No. 2, the anxious husband : — 

. . . " If any persons will give intelligence to the said William Meredith where she 
may be met with, within seven days' time after the date thereof shall receive a Guinea 
reward. N.B. — She hoe but one eye t and was well dressed." 

(Query, whether Mr. Meredith would have offered two guineas for a binocular 

No. 3, the defiant husband, running off into rhyme : — 

" Whereas the wife of Godfrey Wildsmith has eloped from her said husband without 
any manner of reason, and took some things of value with her: This is to forewarn 
any person ot persons from trusting her, for he will pay no debt she shall contract; and 
if any one will help her to him again, they ehaU be well rewarded, and ae little regarded, 
and shall have a etrike of grains for their pains, of me, Godfrey Wildsmith." 

" Collectors " on the highway : — 

"Birmingham, May 6(1751). On Tuesday last, the Shrewsbury caravan was stopped be- 
tween the Four Crosses and the Welsh Harp by a single highwayman, who behaved very 
civilly to the passengers, told them that he was a tradesman in distress, and hoped that 
they would contribute to his assistance. On whioh each passenger gave him something, 
to the amount in the whole to about four pounds, with which he was mighty well 
satisfied, but returned some halfpence to one of them, saying he never took copper. He then 
told them there were two other collectors en the road, but he would see them out of danger, 
whioh he accordingly did ; and begged that they would not at their next inn mention 
the robbery, nor appear against him if he should be taken up hereafter." 

Sale of a slave in England : — 

"November 11 (1771). To be sold by auction, on Saturday, the 30th day of 
November instant, at the house of Mrs. Webb, In the city of Lichfield, and known by 
the sign of the Barbers' Arms, between the hours of 3 and 6 in the evening of the said. 

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Notices of Books. 295 

day, and subject to articles that will be then and there produced (except sold by private 
contract before the time), of which notice will be given to the public by John Heeley, 
of Walsall, auctioneer and salesman, a negro boy from Africa, supposed to be about ten 
or eleven years of age. He is remarkably strait, well-proportioned, speaks tolerably 
good English, of a mild disposition, friendly, officious, sound, healthy, fond of labour, 
and for colour an excellent fine black." 

Tooth-drawn charity :— I 

"December 4 (1786). We are glad to hear Mr. dark, the respectable dentist, has 
been so much employed in his profession last week ; since his benevolence will soon 
accomplish his purpose, that of saving a poor family from ruin, in consequence of a law- 
suit, the costs of which amount to upwards of £19, and which Mr. Clark has generously 
undertaken to collect from the liberality of thou who apply to him to have their teeth drawn" 

Those who fancy that strikes and combinations are novelties, or that they may 
be suppressed by mere combination laws, will find abundance of evidence here 
to the contrary; e.o\,that of a lock-out for the establishment of piece-work, and 
the suppression of Houses of Call, in the tailoring trade, 1777, followed by an 
attempt at co-operative produotion on the part of the men. Again, when we 
recollect that Birmingham is now the place which claims to stand at the head 
of the Building Society movement, it is interesting to find proposals for the 
forming of a Building Society advertised in 1781. Not less remarkable is it to 
observe debating societies nourishing as early as 1774, where the *' poor 
mechanic or apprentice-boy " mingled freely in discussion, without so much as 
a " clean shirt and stock," with " young gentlemen of the law." 

To Mr. Langford's volume is prefixed a reduced photograph of the first 
number of the Birmingham Gazette, dated Monday, November 16, 1741, a 
beautiful specimen of newspaper typography, putting to shame all but the very 
best examples of contemporary journalism. Indeed, it must be observed that 
the printing of Mr. Langford's own volume is not altogether creditable to a 
town which once contained Baskerville's famous presses, since misprints such 
as " epistorally," " deterents," should not have escaped a corrector of average 
capacity. Mr. Langford himself has a cruelly unsafe memory for quotations, 
and disfigures with two blunders a single four-line scrap from Tennyson's 

M. d* Barante : a Memoir \ Biographical and Autobiographical. By M. OuiZOT. 
Translated by the Author of " John Halifax." London : Macmillan & Co. 

M. db Babaote was a sort of connecting link between the ancient French 
monarchy and the new empire, having taken a more or less prominent part in 
all the great movements of more than half a century. Nor did political work 
alone occupy his mind ; he was always busy with his pen ; and produced some 
works which, for conscientiousness, clearness, and elegance, will long maintain 
a place in literature ; one of them, the " Tableau de la Litterature Francaise 
an Dix-huitieme Siecle, f ' having been made a class book by Dr. Arnold, of 
Bugby. Though a staunch Catholic, he was liberal, wise, and moderate, the 
highest proof of which was his close and friendly association with M. Guizot 
through an ordinary lifetime. He had many of the best and most essential 
qualities of the historian. He consciously kept in abeyance what properly 
belongs to the Philosophy of History, and the injudicious introduction of which 
into history proper, he held, was the direct cause of its corruption and falseness 
(pp. 97, 98). It was his idea that faithfulness to facts, in the spirit of the 
period portrayed, ought to be the historian's main aim, and, acting on this 
principle, he made narrative nearly do the whole work, thus illustrating by 
careful example, if he did not first introduce, a new method of historical writing. 
He clearly saw the essential movement of vital principles below the restless 
wave of appearances — the great fact which encircles all facts, as the sea the 
earth— and all he did carries a great moral, the ministry and interdependence of 
part with port. His steadiness of mind, his honesty, his calm deliberate in- 
sight, and his dislike of mere trick by separate effects, made him strikingly 
individual among modern Frenchmen, and this memoir, written with such tact 
and compactness as to be a model even of a French memoir, by his friend and 
collaborateur, M. Ghiizot, and translated with the graceful freedom which only 
comes of faithful clearness by Mrs. Craik, will be sufficient to keep his memory 
green among Englishmen. 

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296 The Contemporary Review. 


Natural Theology : an Inquiry into the Fundamental Principles of Religious, 
Moral, and Political Science. By the Bev. W. B. PntiE, B.D., Professor of 
Divinity and Church History in the University of Aberdeen. Edinburgh : 
Blackwood and Sons. 1867. 

The truth from which Dr. Pirie starts in this treatise is, that "Natural 
Beligion must be the foundation of every form of Revelation " (p. 66), and his 
purpose, accordingly, is to lay the foundations of that natural religion more 
firmly, as it seems to him, than they have ever been laid before. He be- 
lieves his argument to be, "from beginning to end, both plain and logically 

The result of Dr. Pine's labours seems to us clear, sensible, and sound. He 
follows chiefly in the footsteps of Butler, protests against scepticism, materialism, 
utilitarianism, the selfish tneory of morals ; protests not less strongly against 
the notion that the words which describe Divine attributes, such as "justice," 
"mercy," "goodness," can have any other meaning, when so applied, in revealed 
than they have in natural religion, or in ordinary use. 

The book before us may therefore be recommended as a guide to those whose 
minds are beginning to be perplexed with the problems of their own life and of 
the world ; and the calm, unrnetorical spirit in which it is written presents a 
refreshing contrast to the feverish, spasmodic language in which sucn subjects 
are often handled. It is only right to add that there is comparatively little of 
original thought in Dr. Pine*s work ; that while some quotations seem need- 
lessly long (tour stanzas from "Don Juan," e.g., to snow that Lord Byron 
believed in ghosts), there is hardly enough acknowledgment of the labours of 
those to whom he is indebted, and that the style sometimes descends almost to 
penny-a-liner's slipshod. Thus he hopes " to rest the faith of the religious world 
on foundations which cannot be shaken." (p. ix.) He says of men and women 
who sin in ignorance, that " we cannot tell what may be the future position of 
such parties.* 9 (p. 137.) He adopts the pulpit grandiloquence of a pluralis 
majestatis, even when he speaks of matters within his own personal cognisance : 
" We have known not a few, and one in particular in whom we were deeply 
interested." (p. 124.) Some statements, too, seem to imply a deficient appre- 
hension of the currents of thought around us. We are told, for instance (p. 15), 
that " all attacks on the details of Christianity, or rather on its characteristics 
(rather an important change of phrase, by-the-oye), have failed . . . and would 
seem to be given up." 

Cause and Effect ; or, The Globe we Inhabit. By B. Mackley Bbowtte, P.O.S. 
London : Beeve & Co. 

Mr. Bbowwe's title seems unfortunately selected. We have many chapters 
on effects. Beginning with the clouds, he brings us down to earth, and takes 
us through 150 pages up the Thames Valley, and along the Weald, with much 
commonplace geological description, but tells nothing which was not familiar 
already to the veriest tyro. He discourses on the tides and ocean currents, and 
of the latter tells us : — 

" It can hardly be said that they are attributable to any other cause than that of 
gravitation, nor is it to be supposed that their general condition is much or at all 
affected by the outline or contour of the vast areas of dry land, except where the water 
exists as a strait, or occupies a narrow channel." 
But through many pages of diluted learned talk we have no proofs adduced. 

From the Great Orme's Head he leaps to the ecliptic and the equator, and 
shows that the precession of the equinoxes gradually changes the relative inclina- 
tions of the ecliptic and equatorial planes ; but, after all, leaves us quite in the 
dark as to the effects of these causes. We are told (p. 178) that two great 
influences, gravitation and chemistry, are ever at work, and thence we are 
led — whether as an effect from a cause, we cannot say — into a disquisition on 
the political growth of England ; after which the author concludes with some 
remarks, written in a good spirit, on the Great First Cause. 

On the whole, we have seldom met with a book more inconsequential, nor 
with one which so little explained the cause of its publication. 

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Notices of Book :. 297 

The Human WiU: its Functions and Fretdom. By T. Hughes. London: 
Hamilton, Adams, & Co. 1867. 
Horace says, " Difficile est proprie communia dicere," which some suppose to 
mean that it is very difficult to treat of a subject on which a great deal has been 
already said. We did think that the question of the will was settled so far as it 
can be settled ; that all had come to Bishop Butler's conclusion, which is, that the 
will is practically free, and therefore any doctrine of necessity is only a theory 
maintained by abstract metaphysicians as a subject for mental gymnastics. 
Mr. Hughes has thought the question worthy of a good-sized volume, in which 
he defends the freedom of the will against all necessitarians and predestinarians, 
such as Hobbes, Edwards, Priestley, and Toplady. It is a thoughtful, well- 
reasoned treatise. The author begins with a useful, though homely division of 
existence into beings and things, not failing to remark that the distinction is 
often violated and destroyed by the former being reduced to the condition of the 
latter. He refutes the arguments for philosophical necessity, and proceeds to a 
further examination of them as they assume a religious form. The doctrines of 
Calvin, as set forth in the Westminster Confession, and defended by arguments 
from the Divine Omnipotence and Foreknowledge, are all rejected. Mr. Hughes 
maintains that the liberty of the will is demanded by religion ; yea, lies at its 
foundation. All revelation assumes that man is responsible, and therefore he 
must be free. 

The Analogies of Being, &c. By Joseph Wood. London : Frederick Farrah. 1867. 

What Mr. Herbert Spencer calls * * the Unknowable," Mr. Wood discourses of as 
that which is well known. His subject is Infinite Being. We do not for a moment 
profess to agree with all that Mr. Wood says, but we do maintain that to exercise 
the mind on such a subject is as legitimate as to form a philosophy of the sciences. 
If the facts of Christianity be true, or, to take lower ground, if, to use Mr. 
Spencer's words, " religion expresses some eternal fact," then in either case these 
facts may be as fairly reasoned upon as the facts of the phenomenal world. 
Mr. Wood's book is of the mystical kind, and is to be classed with the writings 
of St. Dionysius the Areopagite, Jacob Boehme, and Emmanuel Swedenborg. 
He explains the Trinity, the creation, sin, the incarnation, heaven, and heQ. 
To do this he asks only one postulate, which, from all our knowledge of nature, 
we would say ought to be granted him, — that all being throughout all worlds 
is analogous ; that 

Is but the shadow of heaven, and things therein 
Each to other like more than on earth is thought." 

All being is kindred, the being of the Infinite" and the being of the finite — 
God and man — the Creator and the created : all is one Infinite Temple. The 
Godhead is individualized into Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, or Thought, 
Substance, and the immutable element of Law. These three elements constitute 
all being, from a subtle material atom up to the Ultimate Unit, differing only 
in measure and degree. The Father and Holy Ghost are the inscrutable powers. 
The Son is manifested, and in his incarnation He represents the Godhead. The 
word "person" is never applied either to the Godhead or to the individuals of the 
Triune. Mr. Wood seems always to assume that the Divine Being is above 
personality; yea, that our true essence and being is not our personality. Creation 
is the continuous and vital act of renewing, restoring, and preserving that 
which is already in existence. Heaven, holiness, and life refer to the state of 
existence when at the climax or throne of the cycle of being through which 
all existence passes ; while hell, sin, and death, their correlates, are the cul- 
minating base of the cycle. Redemption by the incarnation of the Godhead 
was the fulfilment of the mediatorial law which prevails through all kingdoms 
of life and being. John Hunter demonstrated tnat a vital organic circulation 
existed within each sentient form. An analogous circulation is supposed to 
pervade the vital economy of the temple of Infinite Being. The heart and its 
functions may be taken as the type of universal existence. The right ventricle 
with the venous blood is "hell and the bottomless pit; " the left ventricle, the 
" fountain of life pr er; " the tricuspid valve, the exit-gate of heaven ; and 
the semi-lunar, that f hell. Mr. Wood, like all mystical writers, says many 

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298 The Contemporary Review. 

good things along with much that, to ordinary people, seems fanciful. Should 
he write any more books, we beg of him to make bis sentences much shorter. 
Some of them are more than half a page in length, and are really tiring both 
to the breath and the brain. 

The Second Table of the Ten Commandments. By David Rowland. London ; 

Longmans. 1867. 

This is a sequel to Mr. Rowland's former treatise, " The Laws of Nature, the 
Foundation of Morals." The argument is here carried farther, natural rights 
being considered as the foundation of the moral and social system, and the 
commandments as coincidences with the laws of nature. It is an old question 
on which much has been written, whether morality has a foundation in the 
nature of things, or if it is only conventional. There are great names on both 
sides. Mr. Rowland, who has thought out the subjeot carefully for himself, 
advocates the cause of eternal and immutable morality. He quotes and refutes 
the utilitarian arguments of Paley, Bentham, John Austin, and John Stuart MilL 
In reply to Austin, Mr. Rowland says truly, that "Aristotle may be pro- 
duced as an illustrious example that the portion of mankind excluded from 
revelation obtained, without the help of revelation, knowledge of law identical 
with revealed law. But neither Aristotle nor Gioero discovered by the light of 
nature the favourite doctrine of Utility, as thus propounded by Austin, "that 
theft is harmless, and even useful, when considered by itself." Mr. Rowland's 
book is well written, and in our judgment his arguments are generally sound. 

Lizards of Australia and New Zealand. By Dr. J. E. Gray. 4 to. London: 


Dr. Gray has rendered good service to naturalists by bringing before us, in 
a oonvenient and concise form, a view of one group of the reptilian fauna of the 
southern continent. We have here a tabulated synopsis of 129 species of 
lizards, of which eight are peculiar to New Zealand, two have been introduced 
into Australia by ships, one only is common to North Australia and Borneo, 
and 118 are peculiar to Australia and the islands adjacent. The volume forms 
a useful sequel, so far as it goes, to Dr. Gunther's magnificent folio on the 
Reptiles of British India ; but we regret that Dr. Gray did not expend a few 
more pages of descriptive letter-press instead of referring the student to works 
wholly inaccessible to any one out of London and the British Museum. When 
we wish to know, e.g., what is Diplodactyhw furcosus, it is very like a mockery 
of the English student to refer him to " Monats : Berlin, 1863, p. 229." We 
wish Dr. Gray had followed Dr. Gunther's good example, and given a diagnosis 
of each species. Porty-four species are illustrated by lithographs. When we 
say that the artist is Mr. Eord, we need add not a word further. With Chinese 
accuracy of detail, he happily combines the vigour and life of true art. We 
trust Dr. Gray may be induced to continue the series, and complete the Reptiles 
of Australia in a similar form. 


The Complete Works of Horace. Edited by the Rev. J. E. Yoxge, M.A., Assistant- 
Master at Eton College, and late Fellow of King's. London : Longmans. 
Eton has hitherto done less than her part in producing good editions of the 
classics, and this is a matter for surprise when the taste and scholarship of her 
staff of masters is taken into account. The names of Hawtrey, Goodford, Okes, 
and the university repute of many of their colleagues, might have guaranteed 
Bomethingless barren than the ordinary school-books of the Eton press. But 
Mr. J. E. Yonge's new edition of Horace makes amends for past inactivity, and, 
in its internal as well as external excellence, bespeaks for nis Alma Mater an 
accession of literary repute based upon something more real and substantial than 
mere traditionary scholarship. It is indeed a work that Eton may be proud of, 
and that the scholars of this country generally may hold up when provokingly 

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Notices of Books. 299 

asked, as till lately they might have been, what good edition of Horace England 
has to show ; and it is matter of congratulation that it comes from a quarter 
which has always enjoyed the credit of snecial fondness for Latin poets and 
poetry. We shall rejoice greatly if, in a brief notice, we succeed in drawing 
attention to a really valuable and honest labour of love, as unlike some of the 
editions of classics, which bear the name of another Mr. Yonge, as light is to 

This new Horace is more than a school-book, being a handsome and elegant 
ootayo ; and yet it is quite adapted for the use of sixth or fifth form boys, because 
the notes are pithy and sucoinot, and " tabulate" results of past lucubrations 
of scholars. There is nothing lacking, which intelligent research could supply, 
for the needs of learners ; and yet the book has a drawing-room air about it, 
and in a great part of its apparatus aims distinctly at attracting the man of the 
world, who fells back with pleasure upon the kindred pages of Horace in his 
leisure hours. For this class the great luxury of an exceptionally large supply 
of apt English and Latin and Greek parallels for every passage of Horace that 
admits of them will be an appreciable gain. The admirers of William Pitt, 
turning to Horace for verification of the quotation, " Laudo manentem; si 
celeres quatit," &o. (0. in. xxix. 53 — 56), which the youthful statesman used 
upon a famous occasion, will find another parallel for the same famous lines, 
which curiously makes most harvest of the very words (" virtute me involve ") 
which Pitt modestly omitted. Wolsey, in Shakspeare's Henry VIII. (act iii. 
sc, 2.), speaks thus, as Mr. Yonge's note reminds us : — 

"My robe 
And my integrity to Heaven is all 
I now dare call my own ; " 

and this is but one out of countless parallels from Shakspeare which are brought 
to bear on Horace in these pages. A particularly apposite one is given in a note 
on "libera bilis" (Epod. xi. 16), viz., King Lear, ii. 4 — 

" Touch me with noble anger y 
And let not women's weapons, water-drops, 
Stain my man's cheeks." 

But it is not only Shakspeare who is brought to illustrate the Venusian's mean- 
ing ; no English poet of merit from Spenser to Xeble is overlooked. The boat- 
song in the " Lady of the Lake " is called up for comparison with the simile in 
C. iv. iv. 57, beginning — 

" Duris ut ilex tonsa bipennibus ; " 

and from Young's "Night Thoughts" (Night vi.) is drawn a parallel for the 
beautiful lines of Horace, C. rv. vii. 7, &c, beginning, " Immortalia ne spores, 
monet annus," which is astonishingly close, and discrepant only where the tone 
of the Christian poet breathes a hope the Heathen knew not of. It is pleasant 
also to find lor. Yonge, in his parallelisms of Horace, laying another 
scholar and English poet, John Keble, under contribution. The passage from 
the " Christian Year ft — 

" Such calm old age as conscience pure 
And self-commanding hearts ensure," 

aptly compared with the line of the " Carmen Saeculare," "Di senectuti plaoidam 
quietem, is only one out of several references to the late vicar of Hursley. This 
narallelistic feature, indeed, whether we consider comparisons of Horace with 
nis own country's bards, contemporary and of later date, or with those of our 
own land, will be generally accepted as the specialty of this edition. The bard 
who sang of Henry's holy shade, and was one of its most loving "alumni," 
would rejoice could he know how oft in these annotations his classic stanzas 
are brought to illustrate those of the Roman Pindar. But it would be quite 
wrong to suppose that this sort of illustration at all supersedes the graver and 
severer task of strict and exact interpretation, the discrimination of various 
readings, and the nicer points of grammar and critical scholarship. Without 
giving our adhesion to Mr. Yonge's ultimate substitute for the palpably corrupt 
" Altricis extra limen Apulisa," 0. m. iv. 10, vie. — 

" Nutricis extra limina vilicae," 
to the acceptance of which his own admissions are a fatal bar, it seems to us 

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extremely probable that " Altrioia extra limina villuto " (•• beyond the precincts 
of my native homestead "), may have been Horace's reading, lost to us for a 
season through the muddles of abbreviates and transcribers. And in C. in. 
xxiv. 4, the substitution of "Terrenum omne tuis et mare publicum" for 
"Tyrrhenum," &c., due as it is in the first instance to Lachmann, is, to our 
thinking, unanswerably enforced by the negative and positive arguments of Mr. 
Yonge in page 82 of his notes. These are samples of his emendations! gifts, 
and it is creditable to him that he very seldom ventures to unseat an established 
or well-recommended text. Indeed, he is so conservative in editing as to be at 
his best in defending time-honoured readings and time-honoured interpreta- 
tions — a task which he discharges with equal love and skill. And conservatism 
herein is real gain to all parties. Issues are confused and notes are stuffed and 
padded by the discoveries of pedantic commentators, that some word may be 
governed by one or another verb in the same sentence, and that skill may 
be shown in advocating the claims of the less likely of the two. In C. m. 
iii. 51— 

• « Aurnm irropertum, et sic melius situm 
Cum terra celat, spernere fortior 
Quam cogere humanoe in usus 
Omne sacrum rapiente dextrft," 

the simpler fashion is to make "humanos in usus" depend, as is natural, on 
" cogere ; " but Orelli and Dillenburger discover a greater fitness in connecting 
the words with " rapiente/ ' and finding an antithesis between "humanos in 
usus " and " sacrum." Mr. Yonge, in support of the old way, asks for any 
authority in classical writers for using " humanus," the opposite of " divinus, 
in the sense of " profanus ; " and he also aptly points out that the verse, " Omne 
sacrum rapiente dextra," is simply a noetic phrase for "sacrilega manu." 
Another stanza of a later ode (C. in. xxiii. 17 — 20V which Dillenburger would 
expunge if he dared, and of which Meineke defies tne world of scholars to make 
sense or Latinity, viz. — 

" Immunis aram si tetigit manus, 
Non sumptuosa blandior hoetia 
Mollivit aversos Penates 
Farre pio et saliente mica," 

is so explained by Mr. Yonge as to do no discredit to his championship. " Im- 
munis, " he says, is i.q. " immunis noxa," or " necessitate offerendi ;" and after 
" blandior hostia" "mtura" is to be understood. The sense evolved by Mr. 
Yonge would then be much as follows : •* If clean hand touch the altar, [it is] 
not more likely to gain its petition with costly victim [than if] it propitiates 
averted Penates with holy cake and crackling salt." In a word, " From pure 
hands the humblest offering is as welcome as the costliest." 

We can barely call attention, in our narrow limits, to Mr. Yonge'a mainte- 
nance (C. m. xi. 18) of the old reading, "Muniant angues caput ejus atque" 
against Bentley's conjectural "ex eat que;" of "medio alveo (m. xxix. 34), 
against Orelli's " medio aequore ; " and of " pulchrior evenit " (iv. iv. 65), against 
the same commentator's questionable emendation, "exiet." An examination 
of Mr. Yonge's arguments in defence of the established reading in these and in 
most passages in dispute, whether in the Odes, Satires, or Epistles, will be cer- 
tain to result in as high an estimate of his critical acumen as of his reading and 
research. There are a few misprints up and down the volume, which, when 
they occur, a little mar the luxury of a rich creamy paper and a beautiful type. 
On the whole, the " Eton Horace " is so much of a success, that we shall live 
in hopes of an " Eton Virgil." 

Enoch Ardcn. Poema Tennysonianum. Latine* Bedditum. Londini: Edv- 
MoxonetSoc. a.d. mdccglxvh. 

Professor Selwto's accident, caused by the rash riding of an undergraduate, 
will not have been forgotten by our readers ; and his long illness in consequence, 
combined with his deserved popularity, will bespeak the favour of those who 
can enjoy English poems when rendered into Latin, for the version of " Enoch 
Arden " with which, as he tells his i( lector benevolus " in prefatory hexameters, 
he beguiled the length of nights betwixt his fall and his recovery. In truth, 
the translation needs some such extrinsic favour to be shown it, for— whether 

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Notices of Books. 301 

owing to its writer haying been less familiar of late years with the Latin poets 
than the Latin fathers, or to his illness haying disinclined him to the task 
of retouching what he had writ — there is an nnevenness about the execution of 
it which takes off from the pleasure of its perusal. In the days when he won 
the Chancellor's classical medal, the good professor would have blotted many 
little faults and disfigurements which he now retains upon his published 
page. There is good work, golden ore, in his version, if it is read through, 
but the fastidious will be apt to stumble on little defects, which may haply 
disincline them to go further. As early as the second page, e.g., wo find the 
line — 

" A narrow cave ran in beneath the cliff," 

translated — 

" Cernis ubi anguatum pcnetrat sub rupibus antrum." 

where a good Latinist would avoid such a construction as we have italicized, 
because " penetro" is to be found with " sub," and an accusative, as is natural 
for verbs of motion, but not with an ablative. At v. 103 " a sickly child " is 
rendered '.' infans male debilis," although every one knows that " male " added 
to an adjective generally imparts a privative force, as in the cases of "male- 
sanus," "male-ndus." We doubt whether the epithet " prospectile " in the 
half line (207) " cape tu prospectile vitrum," " get you a seaman's glass," has 
authority or analogy ; and we cannot find that " discus " used of a " ring " is 
ever found in the feminine, as in the line— 

" Manuque 
Tenia ab elata discum vibrabat eburnam."— (748.) 

There are also structural faults, arising out of too frequent elisions, and rhyth- 
mical liberties which would have drawn down the wrath of Orbilius in our 
school days ; and it is too much the professor's habit to end his lines with a 
quadrisyllable, as he does in p.'18, where " labefecit " and " labefactat " end two 
consecutive verses. To this catalogue of defects must be added an occasional 
tendency to " bathos," an injustice Deing thereby done to the thoroughly sus- 
tained and even-flowing original. Take the following instances, — 

" Yet the wife— 
When he was gone — the children — what to do ? " 

% " Sed quid tenera de conjuge fiet P 
De pueria ? sine patre— marito — quid faciendum ?— (125 — 6.) 

" Now the third child was sickly-born, and grew 
Yet sicklier, though the mother cared for it 
With all a mother's care." 

" Tertius ille infans, ex ortu debilis, that 
In pejus, quanquam materna sedula cura 
Omnia qua fieri potuerunt Annia fecit." — (252—4.) 

One is led to look back to the original to satisfy oneself whether or not there is 
anything in it about " going to the bad," or " he would have lived much longer 
if he could." But haying discharged our conscience of its burden of fault- 
finding, we gladly turn to compensatory merits. Some of the professor's lighter 
touches are exceedingly happy. He has admirably reproduced the picture of 
the children, at the opening — 

" Amid anchors of rusty fluke and boats updrawn, 

Building their castles of dissolving sand, 

To watch them overnow'd." 

" Qua lintres inter subductos scabra jacebat ' 
Anchora, munibant castella madentis arenas, 
Spe redeuntis aqua>."— (Vv. 20—1.) 

And that of the hall beyond the down — 

" Far as the portal- warding lion- whelp, 
And peacock yew-tree of the lonely hall, 
Where Friday fare was Enoch's ministering." 

" Trans juga, qua catulo stat cnstodita leonis 
Aula vetus, taxi pavonem imitantis in umbra, 
Viotum jejunis ubi pwebuit ille diebus."— (92— 5.) { 

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302 The Contemporary Review. 

And he hits off very successfully the paradox of the Laureate, in describing 
the wild nature of the beasts in Enoch's desert-island : 

" Nor, save for pity, was it hard to take 
The helpless life, to wild that it wa» tout." 

" Et, sineret pietas, animalia plarima praedam 
Perfacilem, feritate ipsa mansneta, dedissent." — (640 — 50.) 

Here and there we are much more reminded of Horace's satires than of Virgil 
throughout the professor's version, and probably, if the truth were known, 
that " poet of middle age " clings closer to his memory than the graver and 
statelier epic writer. In flow and turns of sentences, and in phraseology, 
sometimes, e.g. — 

" But Philip was her children's all-in-all," 

" Cum pueris autexn punctum tulit omne Philippus "—(338), 

this may be detected ; and though we should have preferred Virgil as a pattern 
in translating a tale like "Enoch Arden," if the style here were professedly 
Horatian, there would be justification for structural and phraseological pecu- 
liarities. We have no room for longer quotation, but may refer to the 
description of Philip's wooing, on the nutting excursion, to the account of 
the surmises of the gossips (p. 26), and to the whole passage respecting the 
desert isle, as in the main skilfully rendered. This translation will not 
bear comparison with the " Keatsii Hyperion" of Mr. C. Merivale; but we 
shall feel and enjoy "Enoch Arden" the more keenly for having read it in 
Professor Selwyn's Latin. 


Byeways in Palestine. By James Fnra*, M.B.A.S. London: J.Nisbet&Co. 1868. 

Mb. Finn's volume bears out his title. He has strictly confined himself to 
the byeways in Palestine. And what a field are these ! What opportunities he 
had for exploring them ! A residence of seventeen years in the country in 
the highest official position, with a thorough knowledge of the vernacular, 
might nave produced some more definite information than is afforded by these 
disjointed, we had almost said incoherent, jottings. No familiarity with 
Arabic will excuse such slipshod writing as this : — " At length we halted at a 
small spring oozing from the soil of the field. The place was called Bheker 
Zaboot, a pretty place, and cuckoos on the trees round us ; only the locusts were 
troublesome." And such tattered paragraphs disfigure every page. Mr. Finn, 
nevertheless, has much that is interesting to tell. The byeways took him 
across Jordan, through the plains of Philistia and Sharon, from Jerusalem to 
Petra, and back by the Arabah, along the shores of the Dead Sea from south to 
north, and across the unexplored recesses of central Galilee. His remarks 
on the great stature of the men of the Philistian plain are worthy of note. We 
have ourselves been struck by the colossal stature of some of the inhabitants of 
Beit-Jibzin, " the House of the Mighty," probably on the site of the ancient 
Oath. He is the first traveller who has mentioned having visited Kokab, 
the great crusading castle of Belvoir, yet he gives us no clearer idea of it 
than that it is " a large and noble erection in a strong natural position." 
We should have preferred knowing something more of the unknown region 
between Ain Mellh (the Mdadah of Simeon) and the Wady Arabah, than 
that "the landscape was not spoiled by the smoke of European factories," 
or that " stars arose, but such stars ! Not like the spangles of the English 
poet's conception, those patines of 'bright gold'— though that idea is beau- 
tiful — but one could see that they were round orbs, that flashed streams of 
diamond light from out their bigness." There is, however, some information 
to be gleaned on the topography of the byeways, and occasionally good 
Bedouin stories, as that of the penalty for dog-killing, or of the Sheikh of 
Yabneh, at p. 161. With a sketch-map, the byeways would have been more 
easily threaded by the reader. As it is, few excepting those familiar with the 
land can follow them. 

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Notices of Books. 303 

Mr. Finn has rare materials. Lei him nee them more folly, and apply the 
lima labor to his notes, after rendering them into English, and he may yet 
throw much light on the hidden nooks of the Holy Land, nooks and hyewaya 
where yet linger, unknowing and unknown, the remnants of Canaanite, Amorite, 
and Philistine. 

With the French in Mexico. By J. P. Elton, late of the 98th Regiment, and 
A.D.C. to General Sir Hugh Eose (Lord Strathnairn). London : Chapman 
and Hall. 1867. 

Mb. Elton has compiled a very readable book, upon a subject which has 
attained a different and melancholy interest since the date at which he wrote, 
from the pages of his diary, carefully kept during his stay in Mexico, prior to 
the departure of the French troops. Time, and the fatal termination of the 
enterprise undertaken by the Archduke Maximilian of Austria, have deprived 
the political and military speculations in which Mr. Elton indulges of value, 
though not of interest. In the presence of the fait accompli of the Mexican 
republic, it is not unprofitable to study the efforts, the grounds of hope, and the 
setf-deception of its enemies. The Prench point of view is especially interesting, 
and is very clearly and forcibly put by Mr. Elton, who was present during the 
whole process of the evacuation. His description of the country, in its physical 
and moral aspects, is clear ; but he has not, nor does he lay claim to, literary 
ability. The conclusions at which he arrived before he left Mexico for Havana, 
and ultimately the Mississippi, are proved by subsequent events to have been 
sound : time will show whether his concluding observations, written after he 
had learned the fate of the empire and of Maximilian, are so likewise. In com* 
mon with all writers on this unhappy topic, he seems to have formed no decided 
judgment on the character and abilities of Juarez — to have left them, indeed, 
out of account. This we believe to be a mistake of such magnitude as to make 
his speculations upon the short duration of the republic, and its ultimate in* 
evitable absorption by the United States, far from convincing. We believe 
Juarez to be as much underrated as a ruler as Maximilian was overrated, but 
time will tell; and in the meantime Mr. Elton's book deserves, and no doubt 
will receive, considerable attention. 

The Story of the Captives. A Narrative of the Events of Mr. Rassam*s Mission to 
Abyssinia. By Dr. Blano, one of the Captives. To which is subjoined 
a translation of M. le Jean's Articles on Abyssinia and its Monarch, from 
the " Revue des Deux Mondes." London : Longmans & Co. 

That the Abyssinian Expedition should be exploits in every conceivable way 
—political, commercial, and literary — is only natural and to be expected ; but 
it is also only natural to get a little tired of the exhibition of human ingenuity 
in this direction. " The Story of the Captives,'* for all its taking title, and 
despite the attractive description of the difficulties under which Dr. Blanc's 
report was written, difficulties which render it almost as remarkable a docu- 
ment as that which Edmund Dantes inherited from the Abbe Faria, is not con- 
vincing as to its authenticity, and does not contain anything which we have 
not read under more than one form already. The soi-disant personal narrative 
is extremely bald and dull, and the remaining matter has appeared in the 
Plowden despatches and in Mr. Dufton's late work ; notably, as to the latter, 
the descriptions of diseases prevalent in Abyssinia, especially the mysterious 
and horrible " bouda," and a page and a half ostentatiously claimed as the 
"physical geography" of Abyssinia. The translation from the "Revue des 
Deux Mondes of M. le Jean's articles, with which the little volume is padded 
out, is simply book-making, so plain and honest as to be laughable rather than 


The North Coast, and other Poems. By Robebt Buchanan. With Illustrations 
engraved by the Brothers Dalziel. London : Routledge. 1868. 
We own to not being easy in mind about these gorgeous scarabssan books, 
which are making the temples of the Soaii flare with gold, and green, and 

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304 The Contemporary Review. 

crimson in our days. It may be morose and ill-boding to feel as if our lighter 
literature were passing away in a December sunset ; or it might be invidious to 
compare it to a nymph who, for want of charms certain to tell, is obliged to 
flaunt in loud colours, and challenge us with, " Look at me I " 

But, whatever we may feel about all this iridescence for books in general, of 
one thing we are quite certain : that it is not a happy idea to send out a new 
work (at least if that work be anything above a fairy tale) in such a garb. A 
young child in crimson, satin, and diamonds is not more absurd nor unbe- 
coming. At least, let us keep up the fiction of a shrinking modesty on the part 
of an author on the day of his dibut. The deprecating tone in which men used 
to address their " gentle readers " was, if somewhat of a farce, yet not out of 
place on such an occasion. At all events, it was better than this blazing out 
upon us, as George Herbert says, in hues " angry and brave. 1 ' Such garb 
ought to be won before it is worn. 

With this somewhat offended feeling we look inside. We find poems, — of 
those anon. But we find something else. Now, here we have an a priori 
remark to make. We hold the mind's poetic pictures to be very sacred things. 
They arise unbidden the moment sweet words are heard or read. Most perti- 
naciously is the fancy wedded to them. Hector and Andromache part. The 
warrior stands on the left side ; the wife holds the babe to him from the right. 
So, in an instant, springs up the group to my mind's eye ; to another man's, it 
may be vice verad. But, be it which it may, from the first moment when the 
schoolboy conned the passage all through life, there the group remains, indelible, 
unchangeable : he who interferes with it is an enemy to my liberty of thought. 
I would fight for the position of the persons, for their background, for their 
surroundings. What right have these dealers in printers' ink to forestall my 
mental images, and to forestall them in this particularly gloomy and odious 
manner ? Some of these illustrations really puzzle the eye to discover, through 
the crossed and crossed black lines, what the artist intended to embody as his 
idea. Some, we own, are freer from blame ; but the new and undesirable prac- 
tice of decking new poems with them has put us out of humour, wo suppose, 
with the whole thing. If we must specify, Mr. T. Dalziel's illustrations are 
to us far among the best of their kind, as Mr. Wolf's are of theirs (witness 
the beautiful bit of reedy water on p. 189, and the rocks and deer, p. 213). Mr. 
Pinwell's perspective is as marvellous as ever. In both the engravings on pp. 
91, 99, the floor of the room is as nearly as possible vertical. 

Robert Buchanan has not, by this volume's poems, added to his deservedly 
high reputation. " Meg Blane" is, on the whole, the best thing in the book; 
and "Sigurd of Saxony" has several passages of real beauty. Some of the 
poems we are sorry Mr. Buchanan has printed. " The Saint's Story " is simply 

There are some affectations which surely one of Mr. Buchanan's powers can 
do without; such are "the curious-eye'd man," p. 60; "tenderue," p. 84; 
" quietlie," p. 53 ; " certainlie," p. 30 ; and " bitterlie," p. 37 ; the description 
of a maiden as "kiss- worthy to the finger-tips," p. 86. 

On the whole, we are disappointed with this new volume ; — with the framing, 
and with that which is framed in it. 

Universal Hymn. By Philtp James Bailey, Author of " Festus." London : 

Bell and Daldy. 

The title Mr. Bailey has given to this poem is a little of a misnomer. It is 
a softened, but still a systematized, statement or confession of "Festus' " 
beliefs rather than a hymn in any proper sense of the word. The lyrical fire 
is nowhere so intense as to fuse particular conceptions or angular semi-scientific 
points of thought into that white-heat glow that finds fit reflectors, intensifying 
it by their very coldness, in the common and universal feelings and instincts of 
men. It is at bottom a somewhat tangled network of theory. Notwithstand- 
ing the large scope and purpose of the poem, the wide circle of religious thought 
and sentiment described, and the astonishing power of phrase and picture, all 
is defeated by the end to which it leads. " Festus," in spite of its dramatic 
disguise, was reduced to a mere abstract theory of the universe by the half- 
mechanical universalism which lay at its root, and it was only saved from 
absolute fatalism at the close by the trick of a metaphysical transformation-scene. 

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Mr. Bailey made "Festus" the merest mouthpiece for his own opinions, 
and the other characters in the poem were only onsets for him. Writers of no 
real dramatic genius, who yet essay that form of composition, pay the penalty 
of over-venturesomeness in every work they afterwards produce. The " Uni- 
versal Hymn" is proof explicit of what, to the critical eye, lay implicitly 
in " Festus" itself. Its aim is to preach and impress universausm ; this is 
the only sense in which it is a " Universal Hymn." Now, if it is not allow- 
able to us to argue the matter with Mr. Bailey in striotly logical terms, it is as 
little allowable for him to clothe in forms of poetry ideas, strictly as such, 
which cannot but excite argument and keen intellectual protest. And we speak 
here, not in the interests of dogmatic truth, but in the interests of art, which 
has its laws, as rigorous and inflexible as any other kingdom of God ; and we 
should have been called on to urge the same thing supposing Mr. Bailey's theo- 
logical views had chanced to be the very opposite. The paragraphs beginning 
on pp. 31, 41, and 50, are ample proofs of what we have said. 

An Old Story, and other Poems. By Elizabeth D. Cross. London : Longmans. 

Brury Lane Lyrics, and other Poems. By John Bedford Leno. London : 

Published by the Author, 56, Drury Lane, and sold by all booksellers. 

Few stronger contrasts can be imagined than between these two volumes. 
The one is written by a woman, the other by a man ; the one by a person of 
highly-cultivated intellect and feeling, with large experience of foreign countries, 
the other by a London working-man and master- tradesman, mixed up in the 
social and political movements of the day ; the one by a writer possessed of 
a delicate poetical sense, the other by a clever and often powerful versifier. 
The one point which they have in common— painful though the announcement 
may be to the authors— is want of originality. It is impossible to conceive 
what Mrs. Cross, as a poet, would have been without Tennyson, though other 
poets of the day have also left their impress occasionally upon her verse. It is 
not that she consciously imitates a model, but that she involuntarily exhales an 
influence with which she is charged. It is safe to say that but for " Tithonus," 
" CEnone," and perhaps " Oriana," her very charming " Cynthia " could not have 
existed ; nor her touching " Old Story " without the " Grandmother ; " nor her 
" Love and Pity" without " Love and Death; "nor her "River," though generated 
only by contrast, without the •' Brook ; " nor her " May " without " Come into 
the garden, Maud," &c, &c., — the resemblance in some cases being so palpable 
that one wonders it should have escaped the writer herself. And it is unfortu- 
nate that where she most trusts to her own pinions, she either comes lumbering 
to the ground (as in her " Poland "), or else exhibits faults of style which are 
almost wholly absent from her less original pieces, as if she felt scared at her 
boldness in soaring out of sight of her usual landmarks. Take, for instance, 
the following piece, entitled " Too Late," — the one in the whole volume which 
perhaps offers the best hope that the writer may succeed in disengaging from 
outer influences a distinct poetical personality of ner own :— 

41 We have beheld the stem sad face 
That men call Fate, 
And we have known the kind and fair 
That comes too late 

" Have we not seen the sunny sky 
After the rain ? 
And the pale lily by the storm laid low 
Rise not again ? 

'< The dear light sudden shining from the 
For them that roam ; 
Too late — the good ship strike and sink 
In sight of home P 

" The perfect work after long years of pain, 
The expectant glow— 
The great heart broken, waiting for the 
That came too slow ? 


" The cup of costly wine pressed to pale 
Fainting for lack, 
Too late — an eager hand stretched quick 
to take 
In death fall back ? 

" The little word of truth so long delayed 
Spoken at last, 
But with no power to heal the cruel 
Poisoning the past? 

" Th$ long night cease— dawn break— but on 
closed eyes 
Too tired to wait — 
The love that could have saved from 
worse than death 
Come, but too lato ? " 

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306 The Contemporary Review. 

The sentiment of this little poem is exquisite, and there needed but artistio 
workmanship to make it a gem. But there is scarcely one stanza which is free 
from awkward or slipshod grammar (owing chiefly to the intolerable attempt to 
make one unrepeated verb promiscuously govern both infinitives and participles, 
past or present), till, in the last stanza, the meaning* becomes quite unintelligible 
to ordinary readers. Not less provoking is the line, " Fainting for lack • —of 
what ? — wnich mars an otherwise beautiful stanza. 

Mr. Leno has mostly studied much lower models, and has not had much diffi- 
culty in equalling them. His volume (which has the serious defect of being 
too long by fully two-thirds — Mrs. Gross might well have spared one-third of 
hers) contains many a page which would quite match with those of Mackay, or 
Swam, or Eliza Cook. Some of his songs, indeed— e.g. , the " Sounds of Labour " 
— need only to be married to good music to dwell for several generations in the 
ears of our people. Unfortunately, there is too often a want of truth in his 
poetry. His " Wild Flowers," for instance, is a very pleasant bit of verse, 
reminding one indeed of Poe, but not disagreeably :— 

" As we rambled through the meadows 
On a sunny Sabbath morn, 
The church bells ringing merrily, so merrily ; 
With a nosegay white with meadow-sweet 
And blossoms from the thorn ; 
We laughed and chatted cheerily, cheerily. 
'Twas a nosegay of wild flowers, 
I remember it quite well, 
With its daisies from the uplands, 
And its cinquefoil from the dell, 
With its yarrow, ling, and larkspur, 
And the little pimpernel, 
Gathered while the bells rang merrily, so merrily, so merrily ! 
Gathered while the bells rang merrily ! 
So merry, merrily ! " &c. 

But any one who has the least knowledge of the country will feel at once that 
this is all purely artificial, that the writer never did " remember quite well" 
such an impossible nosegay, in which the larkspur figures among wild flowers, 
and the thorn of spring with the autumn meadow-sweet, yarrow, and ling. 
Now it is not by any means necessary that a " Drury Lane Lyric " should be 
conversant with country matters ; but it is not right mat it should make pre- 
tence of being so. 

A selection from Mr. Leno's volume might retain a permanent interest, and 
maintain, so to speak, a background existence in the literature of the nineteenth 
century, among the choicer specimens of its working-men's verse. 

Qowodean : a Pastoral. By James Salmon. Edinburgh : Edmonston and 


A simple poem, written with not a little skill and grace, in the Scottish 
dialect. There are here few of the affectations with which this form of poetry 
has come latterly to be associated. It is clear, simple, unconstrained from first 
to last ; and though the muse does not prin her wings for lofty flights, she 
looks with sharp eye on many lowly things, and " keeks" keenly in on human 
nature, which, after all, is much the same in castle and cottage. Those who 
can surmount the difficulty of the dialect — which the writer has anglicized as 
far as was allowable — will read this poem with pleasure. 

A Hero** Work. By Mrs. Duffus Hardy, Author of * ' A Casual Acquaintance," 
&c, &c Three Vols. London : Hurst and Blackett 1868. 

This is a good, readable novel ; but it is something more. The story has 
been thought out with care, and the moral contrasts are effectively presented. 
The people in Klrkman's Buildings are sketched at second-hand, or, at all 
events, with imperfect vision and awkward humour; but, for the most part, the 
characters and conversation-pieces are real enough ; and poor Joe (with both 
his arms off) and his old mother are very life-like. Major JJundas, the " hero," 

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Notices of Books. 307 

is a well-touched figure — there is even some subtlety in the portrait. In foot, 
if this novel is not capable of giving thoughtful readers entire satisfaction, it 
is not for lack of good workmanship. Let us look at the story. 

Dundas, the " hero," a brave soldier, full of gaiety and good-nature, but 
artificial, and with a deep root of selfishness in him, is in love with Lena 
Carlton, and, as love-matters £o in society, his " love " is deep and permanent. 
It so befalls, however, that, with the usual admixture of direct intention and 
mere semi-animal weakness, he drifts into quasi-conjugal relations with Adrienne 
de Fontaine. Told thus baldly, the fact seems unnatural, but it is presented 
naturally enough (and delicately enough) in Mrs. Hardy's pages. Before lone, 
as his marriage with Lena draws nigh, the " hero " tires of Adrienne ; and, 
treating the matter in the usual vein of " light come, light go," he breaks with 
her — rather coarsely for such a gentleman — speaks to his doctor, hands her over 
secundum artem, ana leaves her to do as she can with five pounds a month. But 
the whole story is discovered and told to Lena, and then, with the sanction of 
her parents, Bhe refuses to marry him. In the meanwhile, however, Adrienne 
has become a mother, and Mrs. Carlton, who represents the indignant virtue of 
the narrative, has charge of the situation so f ar as she is concerned. But the 
baby presents a difficulty". Of course we know what happens. Chapter XII. of 
the third volume is frankly headed, " A Difficulty Bemoved." At first we fancied 
there was a touch of sarcasm in this, as there is in the title ; but no ; " God, in 
his mercy," is evidently expected to " hush the little one to rest." If the Lord 
would only be pleased to take the child ! Mrs. Carlton could not carry Adrienne 
back to Crofton, "burthened with her living proof of sin and shame." But 
the Lord is pleased to take the child, and the Divine mercy having thus accom- 
modated itself to the exigencies of respectability, Mrs. Carlton " utters a sieh 
of relief and thanksgiving" when the unauthorized little immortal is to be 
undertakered off. 

Now that the " one great impediment has been mercifully taken away," 
Mrs. Carlton, who is really a good woman according to her feeble lights and 
her thin natural instincts, sees her path a little better. The next^ step, 
arranged between Lena and the Major, is for the Major to marry Adrienne, 
i.e., the woman who deeply loves him urges upon the man who loves her as well 
as it is in his nature to love anything, to go and marry a woman whom he has, 
indeed, wronged, but whom he does not and never will love. As Adrienne has 
already expressed her opinion that "when we love deeply we forget self- 
respect," we are not surprised when, having submitted to so much indignity 
from the man who had shirked her bedside in her hour of travail and never 
looked upon his own child, she accepts the additional indignity of his " hand 
and name." This is reparation. Dundas is " our own, our hero, our noble 
Archie once more." Accordingly, he " strides with a firm proud step towards the 
altar." But the Divine mercy is again equal to the occasion, and Adrienno 
dies suddenly in church at the end of the marriage- service. Only not till " the 
ceremony is over" and the reparation made. Three years afterwards we 
find Dundas married to Lena, and the reader accepts this conclusion to the 
story because there is no reason why two lives should be wasted, though two 
uave been sacrificed. 

It is utterly impossible to construct a narrative of this order which shall satisfy 
Hie moral sense of thinking people. With all the advantage that the novelist 
possesses of choosing easy cases, and killing off just when he likes, he must and 
does fail in satisfying at once our hearts, our consciences, our judgments ; 
those deepest instincts, above all, in which lies the raw material of duty in all 
that concerns the relations of men and women. We accept such novels as 
signs of the times; but we want, upon these matters, first a renovation of the 
manly and womanly instincts which are now half civilized away ; secondly, 
coherent thinking ; and then a deep and absolutely faithful probing of social 
wounds, if they are to be touched at all. 

Grace's Fortune. Three Vols. London : Strahan & Co. 1867. 

" Grace's Fortune " is a pleasing example of a kind of book which is getting 
scarce even in these novel-writing, noveVreading days. It really is a good 
navel, truthfully conceived and carefully written ; an honest story of love, mis- 


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308 The Contemporary "Review. 

fortune, and varied goodness ; the latter thrown into relief by wrong-doing suffi- 
cient for the author' 8 purpose, but never capable of becoming offensive to the 
most sensitive reader. The great merit of the author's manner appears to us 
to be its naturalness and freedom from exaggeration ; but it has other good 
qualities too; lucidity always, and considerable tenderness upon occasion. 
The conversations have much merit, and the only glaring fault in the book is 
the awkwardly-introduced alarm about the personal safety of Colonel Wedder- 
burn in the thirteenth chapter of the last volume. The author, evidently a 
lady, will, we hope, write some day a more powerful novel than " Grace's 
Fortune," without losing any of the ladylike reticence and moderation of her 
manner ; and, above all, retaining its admirable fluent naturalness. 

The characters are not strongly, but they are clearly drawn, and the suspense 
of the main current of the narrative— depending as it does upon Grace's sacri- 
fice of her fortune for her father's sake, and upon her subsequent resolve to 
break off her engagement to Wedderburn — is sufficient. It is not harrowing, 
but it is enough : we have had too much loud melo-drama in our novels, and a 
little high comedy is refreshing. Arnold we should, perhaps, guess to be a 
portrait— not a copy, but an idealization founded upon the author's knowledge 
of some real person. 

" Grace's Fortune " contains no preaching, no prosing, and no direct moral ; 
but the moral suggestion of the story is very high. Probably the majority of 
thoughtful readers will find the central situation too weak for the strain which 
is put upon it, and will think Wedderburn's doubts whether Grace loved him 
quite well enough had some foundation, in spite of the too obvious bearing of 
tDA " alarm " to which we have referred in testing the strength of her attachment. 
A more pathetic situation than that of love which feels bound to refuse the 
beloved what the beloved expects, and what the love itself is aching to give, 
cannot be imagined; but that Grace was justified in taking the precise course 
she did in fact adopt, is a point upon which opinions will largely differ. If love 
be merely a more tender and deeply-seated inclination than any other, bringing 
with it graver responsibilities and larger prospects, an act like that of Grace in 
dismissing Wedderburn may be right. But— 

" Is this the mighty ocean P Is this all ? " 

Perhaps it is all in high comedy ; at all events the question is too large for 
our little canvas here, and in any case we hope to hear again of the accom- 
plished author of " Grace's Fortune." 

Queer Little People. By Harriet Beeoheb Stowb, Author of "Uncle Tom's 
Cabin," Ac. &o. London : Sampson Low, Son, and Marston ; and Bell and 
Daldy. 1867. 

" Lazy, discursive, "piebald miscellany" readers are pretty certain to have 
picked up the knowledge that Mrs. Stowe is very happy m her short stories and 
sketches ; for she has written great numbers of them, and every now and then 
they cross the path of such readers. This little volume is a collection of 
children's papers, which seem, in the first instance, to have been contributed to 
magazines ; and delightful papers they are : all of them about animals— the 
" Hen that Hatched Ducks," the " Nutcrackers of Nutcracker Lodge," "Hum, 
the Son of Buz " (a pet humming-bird), and the like. Children will not catch 
half the humour witn which these pretty little stories are brightened ; but there 
is more than enough to please them, and we can sincerely recommend the book. 
It was worth getting up m a prettier way, and also with a little editorial trouble. 
The papers appear to have been allowed to remain just as they were first printed 
— e.g. 9 p. 100, " In the last number I told my little friends about my good Aunt 
Esther. On pages 93 and 100 there are repetitions of phrase such as must be 
excused in magazine writing, but they are not agreeable in a book, and a little 
scrutiny would probably discover other cases in which the workmanship needs 
retouching. There are, for example, changes from the first person singular to 
the first person plural. The narrator is sometimes " I " and sometimes "we" 
in the same story. We should have liked to see the book edited, and issued in 
a handsome form, with a better title; but publishers seem scarcely alive to the 
great merit there often is in Mrs. Stowe's briefer and less ambitious pieces. 

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Nottces of Books. 309 

Tuflongbo' s Life and Adventures. By Holme Lee. 

Tuflongbo and Little Content. By Holme Lee. London : F. Warne & Co. 

Allegory is perhaps the most difficult of all forms of fiction. The tempta- 
tion to strain points for the sake of completeness is great, and very often the 
necessity of humanizing, through consciously pressing upward and forward a 
moral lesson, has the effect of so cutting nature in twain, that neither man nor 
child could preserve interest through the long detail in which all seems forced 
save tiie inner purpose. Now Holme Leo's exquisitely easy, graceful manner 
of writing, and her minute knowledge of natural history, saves hor from too 
obviously falling into this fault. Yet Tuflongbo, the offspring of Mulberry and 
Lupine, will not claim interest from the children so much as even the old pilgrim 
of Bunyan, because here we have two lines of interest running parallel, and 
disputing the claim of each other on our notice. The books are a sort of 
crosses between the "Water Babies" and " Dealings with the Fairies." On 
the whole, wo prefer " Tuflongbo' s Life ;" there is loss straining in it, and some 
of the touches are very clever. The books are beautifully illustrated, and 
should meet with favour. 

" The Harvest of a Quut Eye" Leisure Thoughts for Busy Lives. By the Author 
of "My Study Chair," "Musings," &o. London : The Religious Tract 

The title of this book is borrowed from Wordsworth, and is used by him to 
describe the " random truths" which a contemplative man, who is at the same 
time an observer of nature, can impart, gathered among the " common things 
that round us lie." 

And the author has shown no presumption in adopting the words as his title. 
He has fully justified the loan out of our philosophic poet. For a more pleasing 
and attractive set of contemplations we have seldom seen. They appeared, the 
author tells us, in the pages of the Leisure Hour and of the Sunday at Home, and 
were written during the intervals of parish work. They are arranged according 
to the course of the natural year : and are not restricted to any one line of 
thought, roaming over nature and man, culling from prose and poetry similitude 
and illustration : and all in the healthy atmosphere of a thoroughly tender and 
Christian heart. 

Nor are other and material illustrations wanting, and those of a very pleasing 
kind. The woodcuts in this, as in most others of the Tract Society's choicer 
publications, are almost uniformly good. Some of these rise into excellence, 
and are quite little gems in their way. If examples are wanted, we would 
instance the Alpine bit, p. 210; the reflection of the mountains, p. 219; the 
hunting-piece, p. 248. 

As a favourable specimen of the author's descriptive style we would cite : — 

" Lot mo sit down under this network of sycamore and chestnut boughs, wh x le tho 
faint patches of pale sunlight move about me on tho rank and drenched, yet unj r owing 
grass : let me sit down under the bare boughs, while the brown, wet, marred leaves 
huddle by the side of the garden seat, and under the barred plank that serves as my 
footstool. I dare say my old and unfailing friend will soon come and perch near me, his 
lover, and match the sad cheery fleams of sunlight with sad cheery gleams of song. Bird 
of the mild dark loving eye, and quick quiet motion, and warm sienna-red breast ; bird 
of the soft song, — passion subdued now to tenderness, hope that has sunk to patience, 
eagerness that is merged in tranquillity, — faithful bird, whose every tone and motion, 
familiar and loved, seems to fit the winter heart as well as the spring fancy, — those 
fervent, passionate songsters of the spring, that now are flown, they which drowned to 
my ear thy quiet song of peace : no, not even in the days when the nightingale's 
thrilling utterance made the world as it were full of the unsubstantial beauty of a 
dream. And so now I feel a sort of right to the calm and comfort of thy tranquil, un- 
failing utterance, when the evanescent dream has passed away, and the disenchanted 
world stands naked. Thus, while you are young, O my friends ! and all the boughs 
are clothed, and all the birds are singing, and your heart makes answer to the 
loveliness and the music, — do not disdain, then, to listen to and to heed that quieter 
voice which tells, in an undertone, very beautiful if attended to, of the love of God. 
Your heart, if you knew it, cannot really afford to dispense with it when all the woods 
are loud, and all tho trees are green. And if you did hear and heed and love it then, 
ah, how exquisite, how refreshing, how more than cheering the faithful notes appear. 

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310 The Contemporary Review. 

as you sit meditating under a pale winter sky, and looking at silent, leafless boughs, 
and the songster draws nearer to you then, finding yon alone ! " — (Pp. 287-8.) 

We are sure the author, whoever he be, will not take it otherwise than as 
high praise, when we say, that his meditations put us continually in mind of 
the writings of the late Robert Wilson Evans : and add that his style is free 
from the various "old bachelor" crotchets of that soothing and delightful 

The book is an admirable one for a present, whether to young or old : and its 
tone is of that trusting, simple reality of faith, which blesses, or should bless, 
the inner heart of every Christian in the wide world. 


Flowers and Festivals ; or 9 Directions for the Floral Decoration of Churches. By 
W. A. Barrett, of St. Paul's Cathedral. London, Oxford, and Cambridge: 
Rivingtons. 1868. 

Externally, this is a very beautiful and attractive little volume. If, in its 
contents, it seems to carry the idea of floral ornamentation to something like 
excess, our censure is stayed by the thought that this is one of the failings which 
" lean to virtue's side ;" and that, in that " progression by antagonism " which 
governs small things and great, a little exaggeration on one side is all but 
indispensable to counterbalance the prevalent neglect. Few, we imagine, 
except the most rabid of Puritans, would seriously object to the time-honoured 
holly which appears at Christmas ; but it would be difficult to plead any special 
privxUgium for that shrub to the exclusion of others ; and unless the shining leaves 
and red berries are to be banished, as being the " thin end" of a " ritualist" 
wedge, or Christmas is to be marked as the only season for outward signs of 
gladness, other festivals and other flowers may fairly put in their plea for like 
honour. The work of so decorating the homely village church, or bringing 
into that of the crowded city street these children of fair gardens and bright 
skies, is, at least, an innocent enjoyment. Like all elements of aesthetic 
worship, it may, of course, occupy in some minds a place of undue prominence ; 
but if we do not condemn the " cunning work" of the sculptor or the architect, 
the " lilies of the field," in their beauty, may well be tolerated. 

The book before us, besides giving twenty-four plates of very graceful and 
well-executed designs, supplies useful hints for the arrangement of flowers, 
boughs, and other materials, and for their adaptation to the various seasons of 
the Church's year. Historical notes on the history of floral decoration, on the 
various forms of crosses, on the emblems of our Lord and of the saints, on the 
flowers and plants dedicated to saints, make the book a useful manual of out- 
of-the-way information. The floral calendar, e.g., throws light on some of the 
popular names of common plants, or on facts connected with them. Thus, 
Marigold is connected with the Annunciation; the Ornithogalum, or Star of 
Bethlehem, with the Epiphany ; Allium (the leek), with St David ; Herb 
Bennet, with St Benedicts day ; the White Lily with the Visitation of the 
Virgin (July 2) ; tiie Hypericum, or St John's Wort, with St. John the Baptist; 
the Passion-flower, with Holy-cross day; the common Falma Christi, with 
Palm Sunday; the Trefoil and the Viola tricolor (Heart's-ease), with Trinity 
Sunday. In most cases it will be seen that the connection is simply one of 
time. The plant's flowering coincides roughly with the saint's day. There is 
no principle of symbolism recognised ; and, even as it is, the combination some- 
times verges on the ludicrous, when we find Bachelors' Buttons dedicated to 
St. James the Less, and Ursine Garlic to St. Alphege. 

We gladly recommend the book to our clerical readers as an appropriate gift to 
the fair and willing helpers who have made their churches bright for Christmas 
at the oost of two or three days of hard labour in a cold church. 

The Political Writings of Richard Cobden. Two Volumes. Second Edition. 
London : William Bidgway ; New York : D. Appleton & Co. 1868. 

That this collection of Mr. Cobden's works should have reached a second 
edition in this country, besides one in America, proves, perhaps, more in favour 

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Notices of Books. 311 

of the impress which his services as a publio man have left upon the memories 
of his countrymen than of the merits of the works themselves. Had they been 
signed by an unknown writer, it seems difficult to believe that any, except 
" 1793 and 1853," and especially " How Wars are got up in India," would have 
obtained the honours of a reprint so long after publication, unless perhaps a cen- 
tury or two hence in some collection answering to that of the " Somers Tracts " 
or the " Harleian Miscellany." Though containing much of acute observation, 
and just, sometimes pungent argument, they derive in fact their main interest 
from their bearing on Mr. Cobden's own life, from the side-lights which they 
throw upon the development of his mind. Thus the man who, in his first 
pamphlet on " England, Ireland, and America," carried the idolatry of trade 
so far as to write that " oommerce is the grand panacea which, like a beneficent 
medical discovery, will serve to inoculate with the healthy and saving taste for 
civilization all the nations of the world;" that "not a bale of merchandise 
leaves our shores but it bears the seeds of intelligence and fruitful thought to 
the members of some less enlightened community," grew latterly to denounce 
from his place in Parliament the " commercial spirit. 

The true way of looking at Mr. Cobden's pamphlets is to view them as mere 
written speeches. As such they serve to illustrate, though they are far from 
completely exhibiting, the nature of the man: honest, fearless, outspoken, 
thoroughly devoted to a few great principles, yet often prejudiced and generally 
narrow, and of whom it may be said that few nave ever brought to bear a wider 
range of observation and keener powers of reasoning upon a more limited stock 
of ideas, — morally and intellectually, perhaps, England's hero-shopkeeper. 

The present edition is enriched with an interesting preface to the American 
one from the pen of Mr. W. C. Bryant, the poet and journalist. 

Unsentimental Journeys ; or, Byways of the Modem Babylon. By James Green- 
wood, Author of "A Night m a Workhouse," &c. London: Ward and 

This is hardly so happy a title as might have been chosen for this excellent 
volume, seeing that it suggests a mere dry, unrelieved detail of facts, and calls 
forth a tide of associations alien to the spirit in which it should be read. But 
Mr. Greenwood, though he writes in a clear, unvarnished style, is always fully 
alive to the effect his stories ought to have upon the reader. By his yery reti- 
cence, and his honest desire to let his picture speak for itself, he often awakens 
our sympathies more powerfully than could possibly have been the case had he 
done otherwise. He Knows ragged, wretched London thoroughly ; and each 
page proves that " the prime inducement" to undertaking these journeys was " a 
liking for the subject. Mr. Greenwood skilfully throws much of tne matter 
into dialogue, most probably part real, part invented. It is, at all events, 
uniformly true in spirit, and gives relief to his descriptions of poverty and 
suffering, and filth and squalor. The sketches "The Hospital-Gate," "Mr. 
Dodd's Sust-Yard," and •■ On Board Citizen B," are first-rate. The book, we 
hope, will be widely read, as it deserves. 

A Book about Dominies [Schoolmasters). By a Member of the Profession. 

Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo. 
Memoir of David Stow, Founder of the Trainina System of Education. By the Bev. 

William Fraseb London : James Nisbet & Go. 
As we shall see in a moment, there is the significance of contrast in 
coupling these books together. They differ from each other as teaching 
and training differ. Our dominie, though a man of fine insight, whose 
thoughts are advanced, and whose humour is as fine as it is strong and 
manly, yet rejoices in being of the old school in many things. He has a 
salutary dislike for "young gentlemen" in jackets; and honestly " goes in" 
for due doses of the birch, or, as the Scotch have it, the tavose. Strangely 
enough, the tawst is the only line on which our dominie would circle round to 
meet Mr. Stow with his tnuning system. The tawse not only teaches respect, 
but develops a healthful public opinion, which is just a little pagan, perhaps, in 
its first aspect. But it has the effect of making a boy " try to bear a flogging 
well," and is the main cause in producing " a sight I sometimes see in our 

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312 The Contemporary Review. 

play-ground — two sturdy Utile fellows thrashing away at each other with 
knotted straps, laughing at the pain " (p. 72). Our dominie somehow fails to 
see that just as his unconscious training succeeds, " Lion," as he naively names 
his instrument of torture, must of course lose the power on account of which he 
upholds him. The main qualification our dominie suggests for a teacher is, 
that he should know more than his pupil, and he recommends public schools 
because of. the tone of opinion that prevails there. Though sometimes incon- 
sistent, as here, the dominie is always lively and instructive, throwing out most 
valuable practical hints in the lightest manner. Nor is he without an exquisite 
touch of pathos, which here and there verges on the poetic. 

Mr. David Stow, the originator of the training system, seeing a great deal of 
misery among' the poor of Glasgow, earnestly set himself to work in order to 
remedy the evil. He soo