ENGLISH TEAITS
AND
REPEESENTATIVE MEN
RALPH WALDO
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
NEW YORK ; THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1906
All rights resewed
Tftis Ktttthn first />vwM/, r
CONTENTS.
ENGLISH TKAITS.
THAI',
PAGE
!, KIUST VISIT TO ENGLAND l
IK VOYAIIK TO IteuND , , 19
III, LAND . 27
IV RACK ... 36
V. ABILITY 60
VL MANNKKN 83.
VII. TuiTit , , 94
VIII. (InAUAH'KU * . 103
IX, ('(il'KAYNK . 117
X. WKMTII , 125
XI, AinswuAcv 140
XU, UNIVKUSITIK.S , 161
Xill HKMCION . 173
XIV. LiTKUATUllE , . 187
XV, TUB "TIMKS" . , 210
XVI, M 1 ONKI!KNGE 220
XVII, PwisuNAh 235
XVIII, UBHUI,T ..... 241
XIX* Si'KKCii AT MANUIIRSTKU . . ,249
VI CONTENTS.
REPRESENTATIVE MEN.
LECT.
I. USES OF GREAT. MEN
II. PLATO ; OR, THE PHILOSOPHER .
PLATO ; NEW READINGS .
III. SWEDENBORG J OR, THE MYSTIC .
IV. MONTAIGNE OR, THE SCEPTIC .
V. SHAKSPEARE ; OR, THE POET
VI. NAPOLEON ; OR, THE MAN OF THE WORLD
VII. GOETHE ; OR. THE WRITER
ENGLISH TRAITS
THE WORKS
OF
RALPH WALDO EMEESON
VOL. IV.
ENGLISH TEAITS
CHAPTER I.
FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND.
I HAVE been twice in England, In 1833, on my
return from a short tour in Sicily, Italy, and France,
I crossed from Boulogne, and landed in London
the Tower stairs, It was a dark Sunday mor
there were few people in the streets \ and I
the pleasure of that first walk on English ound
with my companion, an American artist, frofc
Tower up through Cheapside and the Strand, to*
house in Eussell Square, whither we had been recom-
mended to good chambers, For the first time for
many months we were forced to check the saucy habit
of travellers' criticism, as we could no longer speak
aloud in the streets without being understood. The
sh^signs spoke our language ; our country names
were on the door-plates ; and the public and private
buildings wore a more native and wonted front,
Like most young men at that time, I was much
indebted to the men of Edinburgh, and of the Edin-
burgh EevieWj to Jeffrey, Mackintosh, Hallam, and
VOL, IV. B
2 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
to Scott, Playfair, and De Quincey ; and my narrow
and desultory reading had inspired the wish to see
the faces of three or four writers, Coleridge, Words-
worth, Landor, De Quincey, and the latest and
strongest contributor to the critical journals, Carlyle ,
and I suppose if I had sifted the reasons that led me
to Europe, when I was ill and was advised to travel,
it was mainly the attraction of these persons. If
Goethe had been still living, I might have wandered
into Germany also. Besides those I have named (for
Scott was dead), there was not in Britain the man
living whom I cared to behold, unless it were the
Duke of "Wellington, whom I afterwards saw at
Westminster Abbey, at the funeral of Wilberforce.
The young scholar fancies it happiness enough to live
with people who can give an inside to the world;
without reflecting that they are prisoners, too, of
their own thought, and cannot apply themselves to
yours. The conditions of literary success are almost
destructive of the best social power, as they do not
leave that frolic liberty which only can encounter a
companion on the best terms. It is probable you left
some obscure comrade at a tavern, or in the farms,
with right mother- wit, and equality to life, when you
crossed sea and land to play bo-peep with celebrated
scribes. I have, however, found writers superioah^o
their books, and I cling to my first belief, that a
strong head will dispose fast enough of these impedi-
ments, and give one the satisfaction of reality, the
sense of having been met, and a larger horizon.
On looking over the diary of my journey in 1833,
1-J FIEST VISIT TO ENGLAND. 3
I find nothing to publish in my memoranda of visits
to places. But I have copied the few notes I made
of visits to persons, as they respect parties quite too
good and too transparent to the whole world to make
it needful to affect any prudery of suppression about
a few hints of those bright personalities.
At Florence, chief among artists I found Horatio
G-reenough, the American sculptor. His face was so
handsome, and his person so well formed, that he
might be pardoned, if, as was alleged, the face of his
Medora, and the figure of a colossal Achilles in clay,
were idealisations of his own. Greenough was a
superior man, ardent and eloquent, and all his opin-
ions had elevation and magnanimity. He believed
that the Greeks had wrought in schools or fraternities,
the genius of the master imparting his design to
his friends, and inflaming them with it, and when his
strength was spent, a new hand, with equal heat,
continued the work- and so by relays, until it was
finished in every part with equal fire. This was
necessary in so refractory a material as stone; and
he thought art would never prosper until we left our
shy jealous ways, and worked in society as they.
All his thoughts breathed the same generosity. He
was an accurate and a deep man. He was a votary
of **ie Greeks, and impatient of Gothic art. His
paper on Architecture, published in 1843, announced
in advance the leading thoughts of Mr. Buskin on
morality in architecture, notwithstanding the antago-
nism in their views of the history of art. I have a
private letter from him, later, but respecting the
4 ENGrLISE TRAITS. [CHAT*.
same period, in which he roughly sketches his own
theory, "Here is my theory of structure: A scien-
tific arrangement of spaces and forms to functions
and to site ; an emphasis of features proportioned to
their gradated importance in function ; colour and
ornament to he decided and arranged and varied by
strictly organic laws, having a distinct reason for
each decision ; the entire and immediate "banishment
of all make-shift and make-believe."
Greenough brought me, through a common friend,
an invitation from Mr. Landor, who lived at San
Domenica di Fiesole. On the 15th May I dined with
Mr. Landor. I found him noble and courteous, living
in a cloud of pictures at his Yilla Gherardesca, a fine
house commanding a beautiful landscape. I had
inferred from his books, or magnified from some
anecdotes, an impression of Achillean wrath, an
untamable petulance. I do not know whether the
imputation were just or not, hut certainly on this
May day his courtesy veiled that haughty mind, and
he was the most patient and gentle of hosts. He
praised the beautiful cyclamen which grows all about
Florence ; he admired Washington talked of Words-
worth, Byron, Massinger, Beaumont and Fletcher.
To be sure, he is decided in his opinions, likes to
surprise, and is well content to impress, if possr^e,
his English whim upon the immutable past. No
great man ever had a great son, if Philip and Alex-
ander be not an exception and Philip he calls the
greater man. In art, he loves the Greeks, and in
sculpture, them only. He prefers the Venus to
L] FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND. 5
everything else, and, after that, the head of Alex-
ander, in the gallery here. He prefers John of
Bologna to Michael Angelo ; in painting, Eaffaelle ;
and shares the growing taste for Perugino and the
early masters. The Greek histories he thought the
only good ; and after them, Voltaire's. I could not
make him praise Mackintosh, nor my more recent
friends, Montaigne very cordially, and Charron
also, which seemed undiscriminating. He thought
Degerando indebted to "Lucas on Happiness" and
"Lucas on Holiness" ! He pestered me with Southey ;
but who is Southey 1
He invited me to breakfast on Friday. On Friday
I did not fail to go, and this time with Gre enough.
He entertained us at once with reciting half a dozen
hexameter lines of Julius Caesar's ! from Donatus,
he said. He glorified Lord Chesterfield more than
was necessary, and undervalued Burke, and under-
valued Socrates ; designated as three of the greatest
of men, Washington, Phocion, and Timoleon; much
as our pomologists, in their lists, select the three or
the six best pears "for a small orchard;" and did
not even omit to remark the similar termination of
their names. "A great man," he said, "should make
great sacrifices, and kill his hundred oxen, without
knowing whether they would be consumed by gods
and heroes, or whether the flies would eat them," I
had visited Professor Amici, who had shown me his
microscopes, magnifying (it was said) two thousand
diameters; and I spoke of the uses to which they
were applied. Landor despised entomology, yet, in
6 ENGLISH TRAITS.
the same breath, said, " the sublime was in a grain
of dust." I 'suppose I teased him about recent
writers, but he professed never to have heard of
Herschel, not even by name. One room was full of
pictures, which he likes to show, especially one piece,
standing before which, he said " he would give fifty
guineas to the man that would swear it was a
Domenichmo." I was more curious to see his library,
but Mr. H , one of the guests, told me that Mr.
Landor gives away his books, and has never more
than a dozen at a time in his house.
Mr. Landor carries to its height the love of freak
which the English delight to indulge, as if to signalise
their commanding freedom. He has a wonderful
brain, despotic, violent, and inexhaustible, meant for
a soldier, by what chance converted to letters, in
which there is not a style nor a tint not known to
him, yet with an English appetite for action and
heroes. The thing done avails, and not what is said
about it. An original sentence, a step forward,
is worth more than all the censures. Landor is
strangely undervalued in England ; usually ignored ;
and sometimes savagely attacked in the Eeviews.
The criticism may be right, or wrong, and is quickly
forgotten ; but year after year the scholar must still
go back to Landor for a multitude of elegant sentences
for wisdom, wit, and indignation that are unfor-
getable.
From London, on the 5th August, I went to High-
gate, and wrote a note to Mr. Coleridge, requesting
I.] FIKST VISIT TO ENGLAND. 7
leave to pay my respects to Mm, It was near noon.
Mr. Coleridge sent a verbal message? that he was in
bed, but if I would call after one o'clock, he would
see me, I returned at one, and he appeared, a short,
thick old man, with bright blue eyes and fine clear
complexion, leaning on his cane. He took snuff
freely, which presently soiled his cravat and neat
black suit. He asked whether I knew Allston, and
spoke warmly of his merits and doings when he knew
him in Eome ; what a master of the Titianesque he
was, etc. etc. He spoke of Dr. Channing. It was
an unspeakable misfortune that he should have turned
out a Unitarian after all. On this he burst into a
declamation on the folly and ignorance of Unitarian-
ism, its high unreasonableness; and taking up
Bishop Waterland's book, which lay on the table, he
read with vehemence two or three pages written by
himself in the fly -leaves, passages, too, which, I
believe, are printed in the "Aids to Reflection."
When he stopped to take breath, I interposed, that,
"whilst I highly valued all his explanations, I was
bound to tell him that I was born and bred a Uni-
tarian." "Yes," he said, "I supposed so;" and
continued as before. "It was a wonder, that after
so many ages of unquestioning acquiescence in the
doctrine of St. Paul, the doctrine of the Trinity,
which was also, according to Philo Judssus, the
doctrine of the Jews before Christ, this handful of
Priestleians should take on themselves to deny it,
etc. etc. He was very sorry that Dr. Channing,
a man to whom he looked up, no, to say that he
8 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
looked up to him would be to speak falsely, but a
man whom he* looked at with so much interest,
should embrace such views. When he saw Dr.
Charming, he had hinted to him that he was afraid
he loved Christianity for what was lovely and
excellent, he loved the good in it, and not the true
and I tell you, sir, that I have known ten persons
who loved the good, for one person who loved the
true ; but it is a far greater virtue to love the true
for itself alone, than to love the good for itself alone.
He (Coleridge) knew all about Unitarianism perfectly
well, because he had once been a Unitarian, and knew
what quackery it was. He had been called ' the ris-
ing star of Unitarianism. ' " He went on denning, or
rather refining : " The Trinitarian doctrine was realism ;
the idea of God was not essential, but super-essen-
tial ; " talked of trinism and tetmkism, and much more,
of which I only caught this, " that the will was that
by which a person is a person ; because if one should
push me in the street, and so I should force the man
next me into the kennel, I should at once exclaim,
'I did not do it, sir/ meaning it was not my will."
And this also, "that if you should insist on your
faith here in England, and I on mine, mine would be
the hotter side of the faggot."
I took advantage of a pause to say, that he had
many readers of all religious opinions in America,
and I proceeded to inquire if the " extract" from the
Independent's pamphlet, in the third volume of the
Friend, were a veritable quotation. He replied, that
it was really taken from a pamphlet in his possession,
r.] FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND. 9
entitled " A Protest of one of the Independents," or
something to that effect. I told him how excellent
I thought it, and how much I wished to see the entire
work. "Yes," he said, "the man was a chaos of
truths, but lacked the knowledge that God was a
God of order. Yet the passage would no doubt strike
you more in the quotation than in the original, for I
have filtered it."
When I rose to go, he said, "I do not know
whether you care about poetry, but I will repeat
some verses I lately made on my baptismal anniver-
sary," and he recited with strong emphasis, stand-
ing, ten or twelve lines, beginning,
" Born unto God in Christ "
He inquired where I had been travelling ; and
on learning that I had been in Malta and Sicily, he
compared one island with the other, " repeating what
he had said to the Bishop of London when he re-
turned from that country, that Sicily was an excellent
school of political economy ; for, in any town there,
it only needed to ask what the government enacted,
and reverse that to know what ought to be done ; it
was the most felicitously opposite legislation to any-
thing good and wise. There were only three things
which the government had brought into that garden
of delights, namely, itch, pox, and famine, Whereas,
in Malta, the force of law and mind was seen, in
making that barren rock of semi-Saracen inhabitants
the seat of population and plenty." Going out, he
showed me in the next apartment a picture of All-
10 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
stem's, and told me " that Montague, a picture-dealer,
once came to see him, and, glancing towards this, said,
1 Well, you have got a picture !' thinking it the work
of an old master ; afterwards, Montague, still talking
with his "back to the canvas, put up his hand and
touched it, and exclaimed, ' By Heaven ! this picture
is not ten years old: J so delicate and skilful was
that man's touch."
I was in his company for about an hour, but find
it impossible to recall the largest part of his discourse,
which was often like so many printed paragraphs in
his book, perhaps the same, so readily did he fall
into certain commonplaces. As I might have fore-
seen, the visit was rather a spectacle than a conver-
sation, of no use beyond the satisfaction of my curi-
osity. He was old and pre-occupied, and could not
bend to a new companion and think with him.
From Edinburgh I went to the Highlands. On
my return I came from Glasgow to Dumfries, and
being iotent on delivering a letter which I had brought
from Rome, inquired for Craigenputtock, It was a
farm in Nithsdale, in the parish of Dunscore, sixteen
miles distant. No public coach passed near it, so I
took a private carriage from the inn. I found the
house amid desolate heathery hills, where the lonely
scholar nourished his mighty heart. Carlyle was a
man from his youth, an author who did not need to
hide from his readers, and as absolute a man of the
world, unknown and exiled on that hill-farm, as if
holding on his own terms what is best in London,
l.J FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND.
He was tall and gaunt, with a cliff-like brow,
possessed, and holding his extraordinary powers of
conversation in easy command ; clinging to his
northern accent with evident relish; full of lively
anecdote, and with a streaming humour, which floated
everything he looked upon. His talk, playfully
exalting the familiar objects, put the companion at
once into an acquaintance with his Lars and Lemurs,
and it was very pleasant to learn what was predes-
tined to be a pretty mythology. Few were the
objects and lonely the man, "not a person to speak
to within sixteen miles except the minister of Dun-
score ;" so that books inevitalbly made his topics.
He had names of his own for all the matters
familiar to his discourse. " Blackwood's " was the
"sand magazine;" "Eraser's" nearer approach to
possibility of life, was the "mud magazine ;" a piece
of road near by that marked some failed enterprise
was the "grave of the last sixpence." When too
much praise of any genius annoyed him, he professed
hugely to admire the talent shown by his pig. He
had spent much time and contrivance in confining
the poor beast to one enclosure in his pen, but pig,
by great strokes of judgment, had found out how to
let a board down, and had foiled him. For all that,
he still thought man the most plastic little fellow in
the planet, and he liked Nero's death, " Qualis artifex
pereo ! " better than most history. He worships a
man that will manifest any truth to him. At one
time he had inquired and read a good deal about
America. Landor's principle was mere rebellion, and
12 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
that he feared was the American principle. The best
thing he knew of that country was, that in it a man
can have meat for his labour, He had read in
Stewart's book that when he inquired in a New York
hotel for the Boots, he had been shown across the
street, and had found Mungo in his own house dining
on roast turkey.
We talked of books. Plato he does not read, and
he disparaged Socrates \ and, when pressed, per-
sisted in making Mirabeau a hero. Gibbon he called
the splendid bridge from the old world to the new.
His own reading had been multifarious. Tristram
Shandy was one of his first books after Eobinson
Crusoe, and Eobertson's America an early favourite.
Eousseau's Confessions had discovered to him that, he
was not a dunce; and it was now ten years since he had
learned German, by the advice of a man who told him
he would find in that language what he wanted.
He took despairing or satirical views of literature
at this moment ; recounted the incredible sums paid
in one year by the great booksellers for puffing.
Hence it comes that no newspaper is trusted now,
no books are bought, and the booksellers are on the
eve of bankruptcy.
He still returned to English pauperism, the crowded
country, the selfish abdication by public men of all
that public persons should perform. "Government
should direct poor men what to do. Poor Irish folk
come wandering over these moors. My dame makes
it a rule to give to every son of Adam bread to eat v
and supplies his wants to the next house. But here
I.] FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND. 13
are thousands of acres which might give them all meat,
and nobody to bid these poor Irish go to the moor
and till it. They burned the stacks, and so found
a way to force the rich people to attend to them."
We went out to walk over long hills, and looked
at Griffel, then without his cap, and down into
Wordsworth's country. There we sat down, and
talked of the immortality of the soul. It was not
Carlyle's fault that we talked on that topic, for he
had the natural disinclination of every nimble spirit
to bruise itself against walls, and did not like to
place himself where no step can be taken. But he
was honest and true, and cognisant of the subtile
links that bind ages together, and saw how every event
affects all the future. " Christ died on the tree : that
built Dunscore kirk yonder : that brought you and
me together. Time has only a relative existence."
He was already turning his eyes towards London
with a scholar's appreciation. London is the heart
of the world, he said, wonderful only from the mass
of human beings. He liked the huge machine. Each
keeps its own round. The baker's boy brings muffins
to the window at a fixed hour every day, and that is
all the Londoner knows or wishes to know on the
subject. Eut it turned out good men. He named
certain individuals, especially one man of letters, his
friend, the best mind he knew, whom London had
well served.
On the 2 8 th August, I went to E-ydal Mount, to
pay my respects to Mr. Wordsworth. His daughters
14 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
called in their father, a plain, elderly, white-haired
man, not prepossessing, and disfigured by green
goggles. He sat down, and talked with great sim-
plicity. He had just returned from a journey. His
health was good, but he "had broken a tooth by a
fall, when walking with two lawyers, and had said
that he was glad it did not happen forty years ago \
whereupon they had praised his philosophy.
He had much to say of America, the more that it
gave occasion for his favourite topic, that society is
being enlightened by a superficial tuition, out of all
proportion to its being restrained by moral culture.
Schools do no good. Tuition is not education. He
bhinks more of the education of circumstances than of
tuition. 'Tis not question whether there are offences
of which the law takes cognisance, but whether there
are offences of which the law does not take cognisance.
Sin is what he fears, and how society is to escape
without gravest mischiefs from this source ? He has
even said, what seemed a parados, that they needed a
civil war in America to teach the necessity of knitting
the social ties stronger. " There may be," he said,
"in America some vulgarity in manner, but that's
not important. That comes of the pioneer state of
things. But I fear they are too much given to the
making of money; and secondly, to politics; that
they make political distinction the end, and not the
means. And I fear they lack a class of men of
leisure, in short, of gentlemen, to give a tone of
honour to the community. I am told that things are
boasted of in the second class of society there, which,
VISIT TO ENGLAND. 15
in England, G-od knows, are done in England every
day, but would never be spoken of. In America I
wish to know not how many churches or schools, but
what newspapers'! My friend, Colonel Hamilton, at
the foot of the hill, who was a year in America,
assures me that the newspapers are atrocious, and
accuse members of Congress of stealing spoons!"
He was against taking off the tax on newspapers in
England, which the reformers represent as a tax
upon knowledge, for this reason, that they would be
inundated with base prints. He said he talked on
political aspects, for he wished to impress on me and
all good Americans to cultivate the moral, the con-
servative, etc. etc., and never to call into action the
physical strength of the people, as had just now
been done in England in the Reform Bill, a thing
prophesied by Delolme. He alluded once or twice to
his conversation with Dr. Channing, who had recently
visited him (laying his hand on a particular chair in
which the Doctor had sat).
The conversation turned on books. Lucretius he
esteems a far higher poet than Virgil: not in his
system, which is nothing, but in his power of illustra-
tion. Faith is necessary to explain anything, and to
reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.
Of Cousin (whose lectures we had all been reading
in Boston) he knew only the name.
I inquired if he had read Carlyle's critical articles
and translations. He said, he thought him sometimes
insane. He proceeded to abuse Goethe's Wilhelm
Meister heartily. It was full of all manner of f orrdca-
16 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
tion. It was like the crossing of flies in the air. He
had never gone farther than the first part ; so dis-
gusted was he that he threw the book across the room.
I deprecated this wrath, and said what I could for
the better parts of the book; and he courteously
promised to look at it again. Carlyle, he said, wrote
most obscurely. He was clever and deep, but h
defied the sympathies of everybody. Even Mr.
Coleridge wrote more clearly, though he had always
wished Coleridge would write more to be understood.
He led me out into his garden, and showed me the
gravel walk in which thousands of his lines were
composed. His eyes are much inflamed. This is no
loss, except for reading, because he never writes prose,
and of poetry he carries even hundreds of lines in his
head before writing them. He had just returned from
a visit to Staffa, and within three days had made three
sonnets on Fingal's Cave, and was composing a fourth,
when he was called in to see me. He said, " If you
are interested in my verses, perhaps you will like to
hear these lines." I gladly assented ; and he recol-
lected himself for a few moments, and then stood
forth and repeated, one after the other, the three
entire sonnets, with great animation. I fancied the
second and third more beautiful than his poems are
wont to be. The third is addressed to the flowers,
which, he said, especially the oxeye daisy, are very
abundant on the top of the rock. The second alludes
to the name of the cave, which is " Cave of Music ;"
the first to the circumstance of its being visited 'by
the promiscuous company of the steamboat.
r,] FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND. 17
This recitation was so unlocked for and surprising,
he, the old Wordsworth, standing apart, and reciting
to me in a garden-walk, like a schoolboy declaiming
that I at first was near to laugh ; but recollecting
myself, that I had come thus far to see a poet, and
he was chanting poems to me, I saw that he was right
and I was wrong, and gladly gave myself up to hear.
I told him how much the few printed extracts had
quickened the desire to possess his unpublished poems.
He replied, he never was in haste to publish ; partly,
because he corrected a good deal, and every alteration
is ungraciously received after printing ; but what he
had written would be printed, whether he lived or
died. I said, "Tintern Abbey" appeared to be the
favourite poem with the public, but more contempla-
tive readers preferred the first books of the "Excur-
sion," and the Sonnets. He said, "Yes, they are
better." He preferred such of his poems as touched
the affections, to any others ; for whatever is didactic,
what theories of society, and so on, might perish
quickly; but whatever combined a truth with an
affection was KTIJ/KI es aet ? good to-day and good for
ever. He cited the sonnet " On the feelings of a high-
minded Spaniard," which he preferred to any other
^1 so understood him), and the "Two Voices;" and
quoted, with evident pleasure, the verses addressed
" To the Skylark." In this connection, he said of the
Newtonian theory, that it might yet be superseded
and forgotten ; and Dalto^^atomic theory.
When' I prepared to departTTIe said he wished to
show me what a common person in England could
VOL. IV. C
18 ENG-LISH TEAITS. [CHAP.
do, and he led me into the enclosure of his clerk, a
young man, to whom he had given this slip of ground,
which was laid out, or its natural capabilities shown,
with much taste. He then said he would show me
a better way towards the inn ; and he walked a good
part of a mile, talking, and ever and anon stopping
short to impress the word or the verse, and finally
parted from me with great kindness, and returned
across the fields.
Wordsworth honoured himself by his simple ad-
herence to truth, and was very willing not to shine ;
but he surprised by the hard limits of his thought.
To judge from a single conversation, he made the
impression of a narrow and very English mind; of
one who paid for his rare elevation by general tame-
ness and conformity. Off his own beat, his opinions
were of no value. It is not very rare to find persons
loving sympathy and ease, who expiate their depart-
ure from the common, in one direction, by their con-
formity in every other.
rr . 1 VOYAG-E TO ENGLAND. 19
CHAPTEE II
VOYAGE TO ENGLAND.
THE occasion of my second visit to England was an
invitation from some Mechanics' Institutes in Lanca-
shire and Yorkshire, which separately are organised
much in the same way as our New England Lyceums,
but, in 1847, had been linked into a "Union," which
embraced twenty or thirty towns and cities," and
presently extended into the middle counties, and
northward into Scotland. I was invited, on liberal
terms, to read a series of lectures in them all The
request was urged with every kind suggestion, and
every assurance of aid and comfort, by friendliest
parties in Manchester, who, in the sequel, amply
redeemed their word. The remuneration was equi-
valent to the fees at that time paid in this country
for the like services. At all events, it was sufficient
to cover any travelling expenses, and the proposal
offered an excellent opportunity of seeing the interior
of England and Scotland, by means of a home, and a
committee of intelligent friends, awaiting me in every
town.
I did not go very willingly. I am not a good
20 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
traveller, nor have I found that long journeys yield
a fair share of reasonable hours. But the invitation
was repeated and pressed at a moment of more leisure,
and when I was a little spent by some unusual studios,
I wanted a change and a tonic, and England was
proposed to me. Besides, there were, at least, the
dread attraction and salutary influences of the soa.
So I took my berth in the packet-ship Wellington
Irving, and sailed from Boston on Tuesday, f>t;h
October 1847.
On Friday at noon, we had only made otio hundred
and thirty-four miles, A nimble Indian would have
swum as far ; but the captain affirmed that the hip
would show us in time all her paces, and wo crept
along through the floating drift of boards, log, and
chips, which the rivers of Maine and New Brunswick
pour into the sea after a freshet.
At last, on Sunday night, after doing ono day'w
work in four, the storm came, the winds blow, and
we flew before a north-wester, which stralmni uvery
rope and sail. The good ship darts through tho
water all day, all night, like a fiwh, qmvm-ing with
speed, gliding through liquid leaguw, filiding from
horizon to horizon. She has passed Capo Kablo ; who
has reached the Banks; the land -"birds are left;
gulls, haglets, ducks, petrols, swim, dive, and hovr
around; no fishermen; she has pweel Iho Batiks,
left five sail behind her, far on the edge of ilia wt
at sundown, which were far eat of UH at mom,- -
though they say at sea a stern chaise i a Jcmg race, > -
and still we fly for our livea The shortest Hoa4me
II.J VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. 21
from Boston to Liverpool is 2850 miles. This a
steamer keeps, and saves 150 miles. A sailing ship
can never go in a shorter line than 3000, and usually
it is much longer. Our good master keeps Ms kites
up to the last moment, studding-sails alow and aloft,
and, by incessant straight steering, never loses a rod
of way. Watchfulness is the law of the ship,
watch on watch, for advantage and for life. Since
the ship was built, it seems, the master never slept
but in his day-clothes whilst on board. " There are
many Advantages," says Saadi, "in sea- voyaging, but
security is not one of them." Yet in hurrying over
these abysses, whatever dangers we are running into,
we are certainly running out of the risks of hundreds
of miles every day, which have their own chances of
squall, collision, sea-stroke, piracy, cold, and thunder.
Hour for hour, the risk on a steamboat is greater ;
but the speed is safety, or, twelve days of danger,
instead of twenty-four.
Our ship was registered 750 tons, and weighed
perhaps, with all her freight, 1500 tons. The main-
mast, from the deck to the top-button, measured 115
feet; the length of the deck, from stem to stern,
155. It is impossible not to personify a ship ; every-
body does, in everything they say: she behaves
well ; she minds her rudder ; she swims like a duck ;
she runs her nose into the water; she looks into a
port. Then that wonderful esprit du corps, by which
we adopt into our self-love everything we touch,
makes us all champions of her sailing qualities.
The conscious ship hears all the praise. In one
22 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
week she has made 1467 miles, and now, at night,
seems to hear the steamer behind her which left
Boston, to-day at two, has mended her speed, and is
flying before the gray south wind eleven and a half
knots the hour. The sea-fire shines in her wake, and
far around wherever a wave breaks. I read the
hour, 9h. 45', on my watch by this light. Near the
equator you can read small print by it ; and the
mate describes the phosphoric insects, when taken up
in a pail, as shaped like a Carolina potato.
I find the sea-life an acquired taste, like that for
tomatoes and olives. The confinement, cold, motion,
noise, and odour are not to bo dispensed with. The
floor of your room, is sloped at an angle of twenty
or thirty degrees, and I waked every morning with
the belief that some one was tipping up my berth,
Nobody likes to be treated ignominiously, upset,
shoved against the side of the house, rolled over,
suffocated with bilge, mephitis, and stowing oil. We
get used to these annoyances at last, but the dread of
the sea remains longer. The sea is masculine, the
type of active strength. Look what egg-shells are
drifting all over it, each one, like ours, filled with
men in ecstasies of terror, alternating with cockney
conceit, as the sea is rough or smooth. Is this sad-
coloured circle an eternal cemetery 1 In our grave-
yards we scoop a pit, but this aggressive water opens
mile-wide pits and chaams, and makes a mouthful of
a fleet To the geologist, the soa ia the only firma-
ment ; the land is in perpetual flux and change, now
blown up like a tumour, now sunk in a chasm, and
IIt ] VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. 23
the registered observations of a few hundred years
find it in a perpetual tilt, rising and falling. Tho
sea keeps its old level - 9 and 'tis no wonder that tho
history of our race is so recent, if the roar of the
ocean is silencing our traditions. A rising of tho
sea, such as has been observed, say an inch in a
century, from east to west on the land, will bury all
the towns, monuments, bones, and knowledge of
mankind, steadily and insensibly. If it is capable of
these great and secular mischiefs, it is quite as ready
at private and local damage; and of this no lands-
man seems so fearful as the seaman. Such discom-
fort and such danger as tho narratives of tho captain
and mate disclose are bad enough as tlio costly foe
wo pay for entrance to Europe ; but tho wonder is
always new that any sane man can bo a sailor. And
here, on the second day of our voyage, stopped out
a little boy in his shirt-sleeves, who had hid himself
whilst tho ship was in port, in tho broad -closet,
having no money, and wishing to go to England.
The sailors have dressed him in Guernsey frock, with
a knife in his bolt, and he is climbing nimbly about
after them, "likes the work first-rate, and, if the
captain will take him, means now to come back again in
tho ship." The mate avers that this is tho history of
all sailors ; nine out of ten are runaway boys ; and
adds, that all of thorn, are sick of the sea, but stay in
it out of pride. Jack has a life of rinkn, incessant
abuse, and tho worst pay, It is a little bettor with
the mate, and not very much bettor with the captain.
A hundred dollars a month is reckoned high pay, If
24 ENGLISH TRAITS. [OUAP,
sailors were contented, if they had not resolved again
and again not to go to sea any more, I shoxild
respect them.
Of course, the inconveniences and terrors of the.
sea are not of any account to those whoso minds
are preoccupied. The water -laws, arctic frost, the
mountain, the mine, only shatter cocknoyism ; every
noble activity makes room for itself. A great mind
is a good sailor, as a great heart is. And the sea is
not slow in disclosing inestimable secrets to a good
naturalist.
'Tis a good rale in every journey to provide some
piece of liberal study to rescue the hours which bad
weather, bad company, and taverns steal from the
best economist Classics, which at homo are drowsily
road, have a strange charm in a country inn, or in the
transom of a merchant brig. 1 remember that some
of the happiest and most valuable hours I have owed
to books, passed, many years ago, on shipboard. The
worst impediment I have found at soa is the want of
light in the cabin.
Wo found on board the usual cabin library ; Basil
Mall, Dumas, Dickons, Bulwer, Bateau, and Sand, wore
our sea-gods. Among the passengers there was sorno
variety of talon b and profession ; wo exchanged our
experiences, and all learncKl something. Tho busiest
talk with leisure and convenience at wt, and Homo-
times a memorable fuot turns up, which you have
long had a vacant nicho for, and woisso with the joy
of a collector. But, under the lwt conditions, a
voyage is one of the KovarcHt teats to try a man. A
II.]
VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. 25
college examination is nothing to it Sea-days aro
long, those lack-lustre, joyless days which whistled
over us but they wore few, only fifteen, as tho
captain counted, sixteen according to mo. Reckoned
from the time when we left soundings, our speed wan
such that the captain drew the line of his course in
red ink on his chart, for tho encouragement or envy
of future navigators.
It has been said that tho King of England would
consult his dignity by giving audience to foreign
ambassadors in the cabin of a man-of-war. And 1
think tho white path of an Atlantic ship tho light
avenue to tho palace front of this seafaring people,
who for hundreds of years claimed tho strict sove-
reignty of tho sea, and exacted toll and tho striking
sail from tho ships of all other peoples. When their
privilege was disputed by tho Dutch and other junior
marines, on the plea that you could never anchor OH
tho same wave, or hold property in what was always
flowing, tho English did not stick to claim tho channel,
or bottom of all the main, " AH if," mid they, (< we
contended for tho drops of tho ac k a, and not for ita
situation, or the bed of those waters. Tho sea IB
bounded by his majesty's empire."
As wo neared tho land its genius was folt, This
was inevitably the Britiwh side. In every Hum's
thought arisen now a new system, English s
English loves and fears, English history and
modes. Yesterday, every paswint^r had moamiwl
the speed of the ship by watching tho bubble cw*r
the ship's bulwarks. To-day, instead of bubbles, we
26 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
measure by Kinsale, Cork, Watorford, and Ardmore.
There lay the green shore of Ireland, like some coast
of plenty. We could see towns, towers, churches,
harvests; but the curse of eight hundred years wo
could not discern.
Hi.) U.ND. 27
CHAPTER III.
LAND.
ALMTCHT thought Italy and England the only conn trios
worth living in ; the former, hocauso thoro nature
vindicates her rights, and triumphs over the evils in-
flicted hy the governments ; the latter, because art
conquers nature, and transforms a rutlo, ungenial
land into a paradise of comfort and plenty. England
is a garden. Under an ash-coloured sky, tho fields
have been combed and rolled till they appear to have
boon finished with a pencil instead of a plough* Tho
solidity of tho structures that compose tho towns
speaks tho industry of agos. Nothing in loft as it
was made. Kivors, hills, valleys, the oa itsolf, fool
the hand of a master. Tho long habitation of a
powerful and ingenious race has turned ovory rood of
land to its boat nso, has found all the capabilities, tho
arable soil, the quarmbln rook, tho highways, tho by-
waySj the fords, tho navigable, waters ; and tho now arte
of intercourse moot you I'-veryu-lim* j HO that England
is a huge phalanstory, whore all that tmm wants !H
provided within tho pnu'inet, ('tiKhituiotl ami win-
forted in every maimer, thu travt^llor rides as on
28 ENGLISH TEAITS. [CHAP.
cannon-ball, high and low, over rivers and towns,
through mountains, in tunnels of three or four miles,
at near twice the speed of our trains; and reacla
quietly the Times newspaper, which, by its immense
correspondence and reporting, seems to have machi-
niscd the rest of the world for his occasion.
The problem of the traveller landing at Liverpool
is, Why England is England 1 What are the elements
of that power which the English hold over other
nations'? If there he one test of national genius
universally accepted, it is success; and if there bo
one successful country in tho universe for the last
millennium, that country is England.
A wine traveller will naturally choose to visit the
best of actual nations ; and an American has more
reasons than another to draw him to Britain. In all
that is done or begun by the Americana towards right
thinking or practice, wo arc mot by a civilisation
already settled and overpowering. The culture of
tho day, tho thoughts and aims of mon, are English
thoughts and aims. A, nation considerable for a
thousand yours since Egbert, it has, in the last
centuries, obtained the ascendant, and stamped the
knowledge, activity, and power of mankind with its
impress. Those who resist it do not fool it or obey
it loss. The*. Kussian in his snows is aiming to bo
KngliKh. Tho Turk and Chinese also arc making
awkward efforts to be English, The practical com-
mon-senso of modern society, tho utilitarian direction
which labour, law, opinion, religion take, i tho
natural geimw of the British mimL Tho influence of
111.]
LAND. 29
France is a constituent of modern civility, but not
enough opposed to the English for the most whole-
some effect. The American is only the continuation
of the English genius into new conditions, more or
less propitious.
See what books fill our libraries. Every hook wo
read, every biography, play, romance, m whatever
form, is still English history and manners. So that
a sensible Englishman once said to mo, " As long as
you do not grant us copyright, wo shall have the
teaching of you."
But we have the same difficulty in making a social
or moral estimate of England, as the sheriff finds in
drawing a jury to try some cause which has agitated
the whole community, and on which everybody finds
himself an interested party. Officers, jurors, judges,
have all taken sides. England has inoculated all
nations with her civilisation, intelligence, and tastes ;
and, to resist the tyranny and propoHsesHion of the
British element, a serious man must aid IriniHolf, by
comparing with it the civilisations of the farthest oust
and west, the old Greek, the Oriental, and, much
more, the ideal standard, if only by meann of the
very impatience which English forms are auto to
awaken in independent minds.
Besides, if we will visit London, the present time
is the best time, as some signs portend that it has
reached its highest point. It is observed that tho
English interest us a little less within a few years ;
and hence the impression that the British power has
culminated, is in solstice, or already declining.
30 ENGLISH TRAITS. [OHAP.
As soon as you enter England, which, with Wales,
is no larger than the State of Georgia, 1 this little
land stretches by an illusion to the dimensions of an
empire. The innumerable details, the crowded suc-
cession of towns, cities, cathedrals, castles, and groat
and decorated estates, the number and power of the
trades and guilds, the military strength and splendour,
the multitudes of rich and of remarkable people, the
servants and equipages, all these catching the eye,
and never allowing it to pause, hide all boundaries,
by the impression of magnificence and endless wealth.
I reply to all tho urgencies that refer mo to this
and that object indispensably to be soon, -Yes, to
see England well needs a hundred years ; for, what
they told me was the merit of Sir John Soane's
Museum, in London,- that it was well packed and
well saved, is the merit of England ; it is stuffed
full, in all corners and crevices, with towns, towers,
churches, villas, palaces, hospitals, and charity-houses.
In the history of art, it is a long way from a cromlech
to York minster yet all tho intermediate stops may
still be traced in this all -preserving island.
The territory has a singular perfection, The
climate is warmer by many degrees than it is entitled
to by latitude. Neither hot nor cold, there is no
hour in the whole year when one cannot work. Hero
is no winter, but such days as we have in Mas-
sachusetts in November, a temperature which makes
no exhausting demand on human strength, but allows
1 Add South Carolina, and you have} more than an equivalent
for tlio area of Scotland,
TIIl ] LAND. 31
the attainment of the largest stature. Charles the
Second said, "it invited men abroad more days in
the year and more hours in the day than another
country." Then England has all the materials of a
working country except wood. The constant rain,
a rain with every tide, in some parts of the island,-*-
keeps its multitude of rivers full, and brings agricul-
tural production up to the highest point. It ban
plenty of water, of stono, of potter's clay, of coal, of
salt, and of iron. The land naturally abounds with
game, immense heaths and downs arc paved with
quails, grouse, and woodcock, and tho shores are
animated by water-birds. Tho rivers and tho Hur-
rounding sea spawn with fish ; there arc salmon for
the rich, and sprats and herrings for the poor. In
the northern lochs, the herring arc in innuuu*.rahlo
shoals ; at one season, tho country people way, the
lakes contain one part water and two parts fink
Tho only drawback on this industrial convoninicy,
Is the darkness of its sky. The night and day art)
too nearly of a colour. It strains the eyes to road
and to write. Add tho coal smoke* In the manu-
facturing towns, the fine soot or Mrtdvt darken tho
day, give white sheep tho colour of black slump, de-
colour bhe human saliva, contaminate tho air, poittin
many plants, and corrode the monuments and build-
ings.
The London fog aggravates the distempers of tho
sky, and sometimes justifies tho epigram on tho
climate by an English wit, "in a lino day, looking
up a chimney; in a foul day, looking down <uo, w
32 ENGLISH TRAITS, [CHAP.
A gentleman in Liverpool tolci mo that ho found he
could do without a fire in his parlour about one day
in tho year. It is however pretended, that the enor-
mous consumption of coal in the island is also folt in
modifying the general climate.
Factitious climate, factitious position, England
resembles a ship in its shape, and, if it wore one, its
best admiral could not have worked it, or anchored
it in a more judicious or effective position. Sir John
Horschel said, " London was the centre of the terrene
globe," Tho shopkeoping nation, to URO a shop word,
has a good stand. Tho old Venetians pleased them-
selves with the flattery that Venice was in 45, mid-
way between the poles and the line ; as if that were
an imperial contrail ty. Long of old, the Greeks
fancied Delphi tho navel of tho earth, in thoir favour-
ite mode of fabling the earth to be an animal Tho
Jews believed Jerusalem to bo tho centre, I have
seen a kratomotric chart designed to show that tho
city of Philadelphia was in tho amo thermic belt,
and, by inference, in the same bolt of empire, as the
cities of Athens, Itomo, and London. It was drawn
by a patriotic Philadelphia*!, and was examined with
pleasure, under his showing, by the inhabitants of
Ohostnut Street, But, when carried to Charleston,
to New (Means, and to Boston, it somehow failed to
convince tho ingenious scholars of all those capitals.
But England is anchored at the side of Europe,
and right ia the heart of tho modern world. The
soa, which, according to Virgil's faiuoiiH lino, divided
tho poor Britons utterly from tho world, proved to
rn.] LAND. 33
be the ring of marriage with all nations. It is not
down in the books, it is written only in the geologic
strata, that fortunate day when a wave of the Gor-
man Ocean burst the old isthmus which joined Kent
and Cornwall to France, and gave to this fragment
of Europe its impregnable sea wall, cutting off an
island of eight hundred miles in length, with an
irregular breadth reaching to three hundred miles ; a
territory large enough for independence enriched with
every seed of national power, so near, that it can soo
the harvests of the continent ; and so far, that who
would cross the strait must be an expert mariner,
ready for tempests. As America, Europe, and Asia
lie, these Britons have precisely the best commercial
position in the whole planet, and are sure of a market
for all the goods they can manufacture. And to
make these advantages avail, the Eiver Thames must
dig its spacious outlet to the sea from the heart of the
kingdom, giving road and landing to innumerable
ships, and all the conveniency to trade, that a people
so skilful and sufficient in economising water-front by
docks, warehouses, and lighters, required. When
James the First declared his purpose of punishing
London by removing his Court, the Lord Mayor
replied, " that, in removing his royal presence from
his lieges, they hoped ho would leave them the
Thames."
In the variety of surface, Britain is a miniature of
Europe, having plain, forest, marsh, river, sea-shore ;
mines in Cornwall ; caves in Matlock and Derbyshire j
delicious landscape in Dovedale, delicious sea-view at
VOL. IV. 1)
34 ENGLISH TBAITS. [CHAP.
Tor Bay, Highlands in Scotland, Snowdon in Wales j
and in Westmoreland and Cumberland, a pocket
Switzerland, in which the lakes and mountains are
on a sufficient scale to fill the eye and touch the im-
agination. It is a nation conveniently small. Fonte-
nelle thought that nature had sometimes a little
affectation : and there is such an artificial complete-
ness in this nation of artificers, as if there were a
design from the beginning to elaborate a bigger Bir-
mingham. Nature held counsel with herself, and
said, "My Eomans are gone. To build my new
empire I will choose a rude race, all masculine, with
brutish strength, I will not grudge a competition of
the roughest males. Let buffalo gore buffalo, and the
pasture to the strongest ! For I have work that
requires the best will and sinew. Sharp and tempor-
ate northern breezes shall blow, to keep that will
alive and alert. The sea shall disjoin the people from
others, and knit them to a fierce nationality, It shall
give them markets on every side. Long time 1 will
keep them on their feet, by poverty, border- wars, sea-
faring, sea-risks, and the stimulus of gain. An
island, but not so largo, the people not so many
as to glut the groat markets and depress one another,
but proportioned to the Bim of Europe and the
continents."
With its fruits, and wares, and money, must its
civil influence radiate. It is a singular coincidcmco
to this geographic centrality, the spiritual eontrality,
which Emonuol Swedonborg ascribes to the people.
"For the English nation, the bust of them are in the
in.] LAND. 3f>
centre of all Christians, because they have interior
intellectual light. This appears conspicuously in the
spiritual world. This light they derive from the
liberty of speaking and writing, and thereby of
thinking."
36 ENGLISH TRAITS. [OHAP.
CHAPTER IV.
RACE.
AN ingenious anatomist has written a book 1 to prove
that races are imperishable, but nations are pliant
political constructions, easily changed or destroyed.
But this writer did not found his assumed races on
any necessary law, disclosing their ideal or meta-
physical necessity; nor did he, on the other hand,
count with precision the existing races, and settle the
true bounds ; a point of nicety, and the popular test
of the theory. The individuals at the extremes of
divergence in one race of men are as unlike as the
wolf to the lapdog. Yet each variety shades down
imperceptibly into the next, and you cannot draw the
line where a race begins or ends. Hence every writer
makes a different count. Bluinenbach reckons five
races; Humboldt three; and Mr. Pickering, who lately,
in our Exploring Expedition, thinks he saw all the
kinds of men that can be on the planet, makes eleven.
The BEITISH EMPIRE is reckoned to contain
222,000,000 souls, -perhaps a fifth of the population
of the globe ; and to comprise a territory of 5,000,000
1 The Baces, a Fragment, By Robert Kwox. London : 1850,
IV.] BACK 37
square miles. So far have British people predomi-
nated. Perhaps forty of these millions are of British
stock. Add the United States of America, which
reckon, exclusive of slaves, 20,000,000 of people, on
a territory of 3,000,000 square miles, and in which
the foreign element, however considerable, is rapidly
assimilated, and you have a population of English
descent and language of 60,000,000, and governing
a population of 245,000,000 souls.
The British census proper reckons twenty-seven
and a half millions in the home countries. What
makes this census important is the quality of the
units that compose it. They are free forcible men,
in a country where life is safe, and has reached the
greatest value. They give the bias to the current
age; and that, not by chance or by mass, but by
their character, and by the number of individuate
among them of personal ability. It has been denied
that the English have genius. Be it as it may, men
of vast intellect have been bom on their soil, and
they have made or applied the principal inventions,
They have sound bodies, and supreme endurance in
war and in labour. The spawning force of the race
has sufficed to the colonisation of great parts of tho
world ; yet it remains to bo seen whether they oan
make good the exodus of millions from Great Britain,
amounting, in 1852, to more than a thousand a day,
They have assimilating force, since they are imitated
by their foreign subjects ; and they aro still aggressive
and propagandist, enlarging the dominion of their
arts and liberty. Their laws are hospitable, and
38 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
slavery does not exist under them. What oppression
exists is incidental and temporary ; their success is
not sudden or fortunate, but they have maintained
constancy and self-equality for many ages.
Is this power due to their race, or to some other
caused Men hear gladly of the power of blood or
race. Everybody likes to know that his advantages
cannot be attributed to air, soil, sea, or to local wealth,
as mines and quarries, nor to laws and traditions, nor
to fortune, but to superior brain, as it makes the
praise more personal to him.
We anticipate in the doctrine of race something
like that law of physiology, that, whatever bone,
muscle, or essential organ is found in one healthy in-
dividual, the same part or organ may be found in or
near the same place in its congener ; and wo look to
find in the son every mental and moral property that
existed in the ancestor. In race, it is not the broad
shoulders, or litheness, or stature, that give advantage,
but a symmetry that roaches as far as to the wit.
Then the miracle and renown begin. Then first we
care to examine the pedigree, and copy hcedfully the
training, what food they ate, what nursing, school,
and exercises they had, which resulted in this mother-
wit, delicacy of thought, and robust wisdom. How
came such men as King Alfred, and liogor Bacon,
William of Wykoham, Walter Raloigli, Philip Sidney,
Isaac Newton, William Shukspt^rc, George Chap-
man, Francis Bacon, George Herbert, Henry Vane, to
exist here ? What made those delicate natures ? was
it the airl was it the seal was it the parentage?
IT.]
RACE. 39
For it is certain that these men are samples of their
contemporaries. The hearing ear is always found
close to the speaking tongue ; and no genius can long
or often utter anything which is not invited and
gladly entertained by men around him*
It is race, is it not 1 that puts the hundred millions
of India under the dominion of a remote island in the
north of Europe. Eace avails much, if that bo true,
which is alleged, that all Celts are Catholics, and all
Saxons are Protestants ; that Celts lovo unity of
power, and Saxons the representative principle. liac
is a controlling influence in the Tow, who, for two
millenniums, under every climate, has preserved the
same character and employments. Race in tho negro
is of appalling importance. Tho French in Canada,
cut off from all intercourse with the parent people,
have held their national traits. I chanced to road
Tacitus " on the manners of the Germans," not long
since, in Missouri, and tho heart of Illinois, and I
found abundant points of resemblance between the
Germans of the Hercynian forest, and our Houswrsi
Suckers, and Badgers of tho American woods.
But whilst race works immortally to keep its own,
it is resisted by other forces. Civilisation is a re-agent,
and eats away the old traits. The Arabs of to-day
are the Arabs of Pharaoh ; but tho Briton of to-day
is a very different person from Cassibelaumia or Ofttnan,
Each religious sect has its physiognomy, Tho Metho-
dists have acquired a face ; the Quakers, a face ; tho
nuns, a face. An Englishman will pick out a disaonter
by his manners. Trades and professions carve their
40 ENGLISH TRAITS,
own lines on face and form. Certain circumstances
of English, life arc not less effective ; as, personal
liberty plenty of food ; good ale and mutton ; open
market, or good wages for every kind of labour ; high
bribes to talent and skill ; the island life, or the million
opportunities and outlets for expanding and misplaced
talent ; readiness of combination among themselves for
politics or for business ; strikes ; and sense of superiority
founded on habit of victory in labour and in war ; and
the appetite for superiority grows by feeding,
It is easy to add to the counteracting forces to
race, Credence ifi a main element 'Tis said that
the views of nature held by any people determine all
their institutions, Whatever influences add to mental
or moral faculty, take men out of nationality, as out
of other conditions, and make the national life a
culpable compromise.
Those limitations of tho formidable doctrine of
race suggest others which threaten to undermine it,
as not sufficiently based The fixity or inconvertible-
ness of races as we see them, is a weak nrginm'nt for
the eternity of those frail boundaries, since all our
historical period is a point to tho duration in which
nature has wrought Any tho least and Bolltariost
fact in our natural history, such m tho melioration of
fruits and of animal stocks, has tho worth of a power
in the opportunity of geologic period**, Moreover,
though wo flatter tho aolf-lovo of wwn and nations by
the legend of pure races, all our experience is of the
gradation and resolution of race, and strange resem-
blances meet us everywhere. It need not puazle us
iv.] RACE, 41
that Malay and Papuan, Celt and Roman, Saxon and
Tartar should mix, when we see the rudiments of
tiger and baboon in our human form, and know that
the barriers of races are not so firm but that some
spray sprinkles us from the antediluvian seas.
The low organisations are simplest j a mere mouth,
a jelly, or a straight worm. As the scale mounts, the
organisations become complex. We are piqued with
pure descent, but nature loves inoculation, A child
blends in his face the faces of both parents, and some
feature from every ancestor whose face hangs on the
wall. The best nations are those most widely related j
and navigation, as effecting a world-wide mixture, is
the most potent advancer of nations.
The English composite character betrays a mixed
origin. Everything English is a fusion of distant
and antagonistic elements. The language is mixed \
the names of men are of different nations, three
languages, three or four nations; the currents of
thought are counter : contemplation and practical
skill ; active intellect and dead conservatism ; world-
wide enterprise, and devoted use and wont ; aggressive
freedom and hospitable law, with bitter class-legisla-
tion ; a people scattered by their wars and affairs over
the face of the w"hole earth, and homesick to a man ;
a country of extremes, dukes and chartists, Bishops
of Durham and naked heathen colliers ; nothing can
be praised in it without damning exceptions, and
nothing denounced without salvos of cordial praise.
Neither do this people appear to be of one stenv
but collectively a better race than any from which
42 ENGLISH TRAITS, [ Oluh
they are* derived.. Nor Is it, easy to trace It, homo to
its original scafca Who can call by right mums what
rat!OH are in Britain? Who can fcrueo them historically 1
Who can discriminate them anatomically, or mota-
phyKieally 1
In tho impossibility of arriving at Hut.iHfaot.ion on
the hintorioal question of we, ami, - come of what-
ever disputable anccHtry, the indisputable! Knglish-
manboforo mo, himsolf vny well markttd, and nowhere
t^lso to bo found,- I fanned ! roiild Inave (|uitct aaido
the choice of a tribo a his linoal pnj.'^-niti.i^ Bcfoo
said in his wrath, "tho Engliwhiuajt wa the mud of
all races." I incline* t<> thn belief, that^ m water,
llmo, and Band, mako mortal; .so certain to-mjinra-
inontw marry wall, and, hy wll ui.-ui.v'cd f*ontrarietio8,
dovcloi) f dnwtic a hamtr AH th EugJkh, On
the whole, it w not HO much a hintory of onti or of
certain tribcw of Saxotts, Jtiti*^ or Fiinian^ coming
from ono placu,\ and gwmtieully identical, tut ii in m
anthology of ti'tufnTamrnfaoiit <if them till Curtain
f.<'ui]nT;im<*nt uit the ky antl KOI! of Ku^kitd, nay
wght c>r ton or twenty varieties IIH, <ut of a hundred
juuir-tn'OH, eijiht or ten uit. the noil of ;m orcliard, and
thrive, whilst nil thoiliniditptiHl fr:e.p"iMnn'iii. dir out,
The Knglinb tleiive, their pedi^rreK from wich a
ran^ f e of natiohalititw, that th**r innnlrt fieiwpoom and
land* room to unfold thit vmiHtm of tuietit und char*
iwtcr, iVrhiiprt the iwintn iserve^ iw u galvanic battery
fet> distribute aeidn at one pol*^ ;Wil nlkalien at tho
other, Ho Hn^land t*uds to wmiitiulaf^ Iwr liberak
in Amaiiita uinl her ronstsrvativTs tit London, Tho
iv.] RA.CE. 43
Scandinavians in her race still hear in every age the
murmurs of their mother, the ocean j the Briton in
the blood hugs the homestead still.
Again, as if to intensate the influences that are
not of race, what we think of when wo talk of English
traits really narrows itself to a small district. It ex-
cludes Ireland, and Scotland and Wales, and reduces
itself at last to London, that is, to those who come
and go thither, The portraits that hang on the walls
in the Academy Exhibition at London, the figures in
Punch's drawings of the public men, or of the club-
houses, the prints in the shop- windows, are distinctive
English, and not American, no, nor Scotch, nor Irish ;
but 'tis a very restricted nationality. As you go north
into the manufacturing and agricultural districts,
and to the population that never travels, as you go
into Yorkshire, as you enter Scotland, the world'p
Englishman is no longer found. In Scotland, there
is a rapid loss of all grandeur of mien and manners ;
a provincial eagerness and acutoness appear; the
poverty of the country makes itself remarked, and a
coarseness of manners; and, among tho intellectual,
is the insanity of dialectics. In Ireland, are the same
climate and soil as in England, but less food, no right
relation to the land, political dependence, small ten-
antry, and an inferior or misplaced race.
These queries concerning ancestry and blood may
be well allowed, for there is no prosperity that scorns
more to depend on the kind of man than British
prosperity. Only a hardy and wise people could have
made this small territory great, We say, in a
44 ENGLISH TRAITS, [CHAP.
regatta or yacht-race, that, if the boats are anywhere
nearly matched, it is the man that wins. Put the
best sailing master into cither boat, and he will win.
Yet it is fine for us to speculate in face of un-
broken traditions, though vague, and losing them-
selves in fable. The traditions have got footing, and
refuse to be disturbed. The kitchen-clock is more
convenient than sidereal time. We must use the
popular category, as wo do by the Linnsoan classifica-
tion, for convenience, and not as exact and final.
Otherwise, we are presently confounded, when the
best settled traits of one race are claimed by some
new ethnologist as precisely characteristic of the
rival tribe.
I found plenty of well-marked English types, the
ruddy complexion fair and plump, robust men, with
faces cut like a die, and a strong island speech and
accent; a Norman type, with the complacency that
belongs to that constitution. Others, who might be
Americans, for anything that appeared in their com-
plexion or form: and their speech was much less
marked, and their thought much less bound, W will
call them Saxons. Then the Roman has implanted
his dark complexion in the trinity or quatornity of
bloods.
1. The sources from which tradition derives their
stock are mainly three. And, first, they arc of the
oldest blood of the world, the Celtic. Some peoples
are deciduous or transitory, Whore arc the Greeks ?
Where the Etrurians? Whore the Romans? But
TV.] RACE. 45
the Celts or Sidonides are an old family, of whose
beginning there is no memory, and their end is likely
to be still more remote in the future ; for they have
endurance and productiveness. They planted Britain,
and gave to the seas and mountains names which are
poems, and imitate the pure voices of nature. They
are favourably remembered in the oldest records of
Europe. They had no violent feudal tenure, but the
husbandman owned the land. They had an alphabet,
astronomy, priestly culture, and a sublime creed.
They have a hidden and precarious genius. They
made the best popular literature of the middle ages
in the songs of Merlin, and the tender and delicious
mythology of Arthur.
2. The English come mainly from the Germans,
whom the Romans found hard to conquer in two
hundred and ten years, say, impossible to conquer,
when one remembers the long sequel; a people
about whom, in the old empire, the rumour ran, there
was never any that meddled with thorn that repented
it not.
3. Charlemagne, halting one day in a town of
Narbonnese Gaul, looked out of a window, and saw
a fleet of Northmen cruising in the Mediterranean.
They even entered the port of the town where he
was, causing no small alarm and sudden manning and
arming of his galleys. As they put out to sea again,
the emperor gazed long after them, his eyes bathed
in tears. "I am tormented with sorrow," he said,
"when I foresee the evils they will bring on my
posterity." There was reason for these Xerxes' tears,
46 ENGLISH TRAITS, [CHAK
The men who have built a ship and invented the rig,
cordage, sail, compass, and pump, -the working in
and out of port, have acquired much more than a
ship. Now arm them, and every shore is at their
mercy. For, if they have not numerical superiority
where they anchor, they have only to sail a mile or
two to find it. Bonaparte's art of war, namely of con-
centrating force on the point of attack, must always
be theirs who have the choice of the battle-ground.
Of course they come into the fight from a higher
ground of power than the land-nations; and can
engage them on shore with a victorious advantage in
the retreat. As soon as the shores are sufficiently
peopled to make piracy a losing business, the same
skill and courage are ready for the service of trade.
The Heimsfamgh^ or Sagas of the Kings of Nor-
way, collected by Snorro Sturleson, is the Iliad and
Odyssey of English history. Its portraits, like
Homer's, are strongly individualised. The Sagas
describe a monarchical republic like Sparta. The
government disappears before the importance of
citizens. In Norway, no Persian masses fight arid
perish to aggrandise a king, but the actors are
bonders or landholders, every ono of whom is named,
and personally and patronymically described, aa the
king's friend and companion. A sparse population
gives this high worth to every man. Individuals are
often noticed as very handsome persona, which trait
only brings the story nearer to the English race.
1 Heimwkringla. Translated by Samuel Laing, Esq. London,
1844.
iv.] RACE. 47
Then the solid material interest predominates, so
dear to English understanding, wherein the association
is logical, between merit and land. The heroes of
the Sagas are not the knights of South Europe. No
vapouring of France and Spain has corrupted them.
They are substantial farmers, whom the rough times
have forced to defend their properties. They have
weapons which they use in a determined manner, by
no means for chivalry, but for their acres. They are
people considerably advanced in rural arts, living
amphibiously on a rough coast, and drawing half
their food from the sea, and half from the land.
They have herds of cows, and malt, wheat, bacon,
butter, and cheese. They fish in the fiord, and hunt
the deer. A king among these farmers has a varying
power, sometimes not exceeding the authority of a
sheriff. A king was maintained much as, in some of
our country districts, a winter-schoolmaster is quar-
tered, a week here, a week there, and a fortnight on
the next farm, on all the farmers in rotation. This
the king calls going into guest-quarters ; and it was
the only way in which, in a poor country, a poor king
with many retainers could bo kept alive, when ho
leaves his own farm to collect his dues through the
kingdom.
These Norsemen are excellent persons in the main,
with good sense, steadiness, wise speech, and prompt
action. But they have a singular turn for homicide ;
their chief end of man is to murder, or to be murdered;
oars, scythes, harpoons, crowbars, peatknives, and hay-
forks, are tools valued by them all the more for their
48 ENGLISH TBAITS. [CIIAP.
charming aptitude for assassinations. A pair of kings,
after dinner, will divert themselves by thrusting each
his sword through the other's body, as did Yngve and
Alf. Another pair ride out on a morning for a frolic,
and, finding no weapon near, will take the bits out of
their horses' mouths, and crush each other's heads
with them, as did Alric and Eric. The sight of a
tent-cord or a cloak-string puts them on hanging
somebody, a wife, or a husband, or, best of all, a king.
If a farmer has so much as a hayfork, he sticks it into
a King Dag. King Ingiald finds it vastly amusing to
burn up half-a-dozen kings in a hall, after getting
them drunk Never was poor gentleman so surfeited
with life, so furious to be rid of it, as the Northman.
If he cannot pick any other quarrel, he will get him-
self comfortably gored by a bull's horns, like Egil, or
slain by a land-slide, like the agricultural King
Onund. Odin died in his bed in Sweden \ but it was
a proverb of ill condition, to die the death of old aga
King Hake of Sweden cuts and slashes in battle, as
long as he can stand, then orders his war-ship, loaded
with his dead men and their weapons, to bo taken
out to sea, the tiller shipped, and the sails spread;
being left alone, he sets fire to some tar -wood, and
lies down contented on dock. The wind blow off the
land, the ship Hew, burning in clear flame, out between
the islets into the ocean, and there was the right end
of King Hake.
Tho early Sagas are sanguinary and piratical ; the
later are of a noble strain- History rarely yields us
better passages than the conversation between King
IV .] EACE. 49
Sigurd the Crusader, and King Eystein, his brother,
on their respective merits, one the soldier, and the
other a lover of the arts of peace.
But the reader of the Norman history must steel
himself by holding fast the remote compensations
which result from animal vigour. As the old fossil
world shows that the first steps of reducing the chaos
were confided to saurians and other huge and horrible
animals, so the foundations of the new civility wwe
to be laid by the most savage men.
The Normans came out of France into England
worse men than they went into it, one' hundred and
sixty years before. They had lost their own language,
and learned the Komance or barbarous Latin of the
Gauls ; and had acquired, with the language, all the
vices it had names for. The conquest has obtained in
the chronicles the name of the "memory of sorrow."
Twenty thousand thieves landed at Hastings. These
founders of the House of Lords were greedy and fero-
cious dragoons, sons of greedy and ferocious pirates.
They were all alike, they took everything they could
carry, they burned, harried, violated, tortured, and
killed, until everything English was brought to the
verge of ruin. Such, however, is the illusion of anti-
quity and wealth, that decent and dignified men now
existing boast their descent from these filthy thieves,
who showed a far juster conviction of their own
merits, by assuming for their types the swine, goat,
jackal, leopard, wolf, and snake, which they severally
resembled.
England yielded to the Danes and Northmen in the
VOL. iv. K
50 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
tenth and eleventh centuries, and was the receptacle
into which all the mettle of that strenuous population
was poured. The continued draught of the best men
in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, to these piratical
expeditions, exhausted those countries, like a tree
which hears much fruit when young, and these have
been second-rate powers ever since. The power of
the race migrated, and left Norway void. King Olaf
said, "When King Harold, my father, went westward
to England, the chosen men in Norway followed him:
but Norway was so emptied then, that such men have
not since been to find in the country, nor especially
such a leader as King Harold was for wisdom and
bravery."
It was a tardy recoil of those invasions, when, in
1801, the British government sent Nelson to bombard
the Danish forts in the Sound; and, in 1807, Lord
Oathcart, at Copenhagen, took tho entire Danish fleet,
as it lay in tho basins, and all tho equipments from
the Arsenal, and carried thorn to England, Kon<*-
helle, the town where tho kings of Norway, Sweden,
and Denmark were wont to moot, is now rented to a
private English gentleman for a hunting ground.
It took many generations to trim, and comb, and
perfume the first boat-load of Norae pirates into royal
highnesses and most noble Knights of tho Garter: but
every sparkle of ornament dates back to the Norse
boat. There will bo time enough to mellow this
strength into civility and religion. It Is a medical
fact, that the children of the blind see ; tho children
of felons have a healthy conscience* Many a mean T
iv. RACE. 61
dastardly boy is, at the age of puberty, transformed
into a serious and generous youth.
The mildness of the following ages has not quite
effaced these traits of Odin; as the rudiment of a
structure matured in the tiger is said to be still found
unabsorbed in the Caucasian man. The nation has
a tough, acrid, animal nature which centuries of
churching and civilising have not been able to
sweeten. Alfieri said, " the crimes of Italy were the
proof of the superiority of the stock;" and one may
say of England, that this watch moves on a splinter
of adamant. The English uncultured are a brutal
nation. The crimes recorded in their calendars leave
nothing to be desired in the way of cold malignity.
Dear to the English heart is a fair stand-up fight.
The brutality of the manners in the lower class ap-
pears in the boxing, bear-baiting, cock-fighting, love
of executions, and in the readiness for a set-to in the
streets delightful to the English of all classes. The
costermongers of London streets hold cowardice in
loathing : " we must work our fists well ; we are all
handy with our fists." The public schools are charged
with being bear-gardens of brutal strength, and are
liked by the people for that cause. The fagging is a
trait of the same quality. Medwin, in the Life of
Shelley, relates that, at a military school, they rolled
up a young man in a snowball, and left him so in his
room, while the other cadets went to church ; and
crippled him for life. They have retained impress-
ment, deck-flogging, army-flogging, and school-flog-
ging. Such is the ferocity of the army discipline,
52 ENGLISH TRAITS, [ CHAP
that a soldier sentenced to flogging sometimes prays
that his sentence may be commuted to death. Flog-
ging, banished from the armies of Western Europe,
remains here by the sanction of the Duke of Welling-
ton. The right of the husband to sell the wife has
been retained down to our times, The Jews have
been the favourite victims of royal and popular per-
secution. Henry III mortgaged all the Jews in the
kingdom to his brother, the Earl of Cornwall, as
security for money which he borrowed. The torture
of criminals, and the rack for extorting evidence,
were slowly disused. Of the criminal statutes Sir
Samuel Eomilly said, " 1 have examined the codes of
all nations, and ours is the worst, and worthy of the
Anthropophagi." In tho last session, the House of
Commons was listening to details of flogging and
torture practised in the jails.
As soon as this land, thus geographically posted,
got a hardy people into it, they could not help be-
coming the sailors and factors of the globe. From
childhood, they dabbled in water, they swam like fishes,
their playthings were boats. In the case of the ship-
money, the judges delivered it for law, that *' England
being an island, tho very midland shires therein are
all to be accounted maritime :" and Fuller adds, "the
genius even of landlocked counties driving tho natives
with a maritime dexterity." As early an tho Conquest,
it is remarked in explanation of tho wealth of England
that its merchants trade to all countries,
Tho English, at tho present clay, have great vigour
of body and endurance. Other country mon look slight
iv.] RACE. 53
and undersized beside them, and invalids. They are
bigger men than the Americans. I suppose a hundred
English taken at random out of the street, would
weigh a fourth more than so many Americans. Yet,
I am told, the skeleton is not larger. They are round,
ruddy, and handsome; at least, the whole bust is
well formed ; and there is a tendency to stout and
powerful frames. I remarked the stoutness, on my
first landing at Liverpool; porter, drayman, coach-
man, guard, what substantial, respectable, grand-
fatherly figures, with costume and manners to suit.
The American has arrived at the old mansion-house,
and finds himself among uncles, aunts, and grand-
sires. The pictures on the chimney-tiles of his nursery
were pictures of these people. Here they are in the
identical costumes and air which so took him.
It is the fault of their forms that they grow stocky,
and the women have that disadvantage, few tall,
slender figures of flowing shape, but stunted and
thickset persons. The French say that the English-
women have two left hands. But, in all ages, they
are a handsome race. The bronze monuments of
crusaders lying cross-legged in the Temple Church at
London, and those in Worcester and in Salisbury
Cathedrals, which are seven hundred years old, are
of the same type as the best youthful heads of men
now in England ; please by beauty of the same char-
acter, an expression blending good-nature, valour, and
refinement, and, mainly, by that uncorrupt youth in
the face of manhood, which is daily seen in the streets
of London.
54 KNGLJLWII TBAITS. [ OHAP
Both branches of the Scandinavian race are distin-
guished for beauty. The anecdote of the handsome
captives which Saint Gregory found at Borne, A.D.
600, is matched by the testimony of the Norman
chroniclers, five centuries later, who wondered at the
beauty and long flowing hair of the young English
captives. Meantime, the Ildmsh'mcjld has frequent
occasion to speak of tho personal beauty of its heroes.
When it is considered what humanity, what resources
of mental and moral power, tho traits of the blonde
race betoken, its accession to empire marks a now
and finer epoch, wherein the old mineral force shall
be subjugated at last by humanity, and ishall plough
in its furrow henceforward. It is not a final race,
once a crab always oral), but a race with a future.
On the English face arc combined decision and
nerve, with tho fair complexion, blue oyos, and open
and florid aspect. Hence the love of truth, hence the
sensibility, the fine perception, and poetic construc-
tion. The fair Saxon man, with open front, and
honest meaning, domestic, affectionate, is not the
wood out of which cannibal, or inquisitor, or assassin
is made, but he is moulded for law, lawful trade,
civility, marriage, the nurture of children, for colleges,
churches, charities, and colonies.
They arc rather manly than warlike. When the
war is over, the mask falls from the affectionate and
domestic tastes, which mako them women in kind-
ness. This union of qualities is fabled in their
national legend of Ikmdy and the Html, or, long
before, in tho Greek legend of Hmiw^hrodite, The
rv .] KACE. 55
two sexes are co-present in the English mind. I
apply to Britannia, queen of seas and colonies, the
words in which her latest novelist portrays his heroine :
" she is as mild as she is game, and as game as she is
mild." The English delight in the antagonism which
combines in one person the extremes of courage and
tenderness ; Nelson, dying at Trafalgar, sends his love
to Lord Collingwoodj and, like an innocent schoolboy
that goes to bed, says, " Kiss me, Hardy," and turns
to sleep. Lord Oollingwood, his comrade, was of a
nature the most affectionate and domestic. Admiral
Eodney's figure approached to delicacy and effeminacy,
and he declared himself very sensible to fear, which
he surmounted only by considerations of honour and
public duty. Clarendon says, the Duke of Bucking-
ham was so modest and gentle, that some courtiers
attempted to put affronts on him, until they found
that this modesty and effeminacy was only a mask for
the most terrible determination. And Sir Edward
Parry said, the other day, of Sir John Franklin, that,
" if he found Wellington Sound open, he explored it ;
for he was a man who never turned his back on a
danger, yet of that tenderness, that he would not
brush away a mosquito." Even for their highwaymen
the same virtue is claimed, and Robin Hood comes
described to us as miPissimus prcedonum, the gentlest
thief. But they know where their war-dogs lie.
Cromwell, Blake, Marlborough, Chatham, Nelson,
and Wellington, are not to be trifled with, and the
brutal strength which lies at the bottom of society,
the animal ferocity of the quays and cockpits, the
f>0 KNGUHH TUAHH [ u!Up
ot the, fM..(,rm'>n;'iTfi of Shoroditch, Seven
, and Spitaliit&lH, they know how to wako np.
They have, a vigonmn health, and Itwt well into
middles and old age. The old men aro an red us roses
and Kfill handwomo. A eloar nkln* a poach -bloom
fninplr\inn, and good teeth, are, found all over the
inland. They MM a plentiful and nutritious diet,
Tlw operative* cannot, stilinlst on wutor WTCHKOK. Beef
mutton^ wheat hreud| and inalt liijuorn, aro universal
among the firHt'fluw la^ourer^, (Jood fowling is a
chiof jiut of national prii uinoti*; tiui vulgar, and
in their earieaturen, f!n\y n-pren-nt the I'Veurhinan as
a |HHI\ trvid Uiwly. It, is euriou* that TacitttR found
the English Iwer already in utie among l,lu\ (icnnaiu);
**tht*y make from harhy or wheat a drink corrupted
into wiim*. reHemMatiee tn wine/ 1 Ltml C 1 hit*f Justice
Korttwue in Henry VI.'s time f ay "Tin* inhalitaats
of Kiigland firifjk no water, taile^ at certain times,
on a religi<ni,i eitn, and ty wny of iwnauw.** The
extrrhuw of jiverty unl ;w^*lit v |ienaii T it would
wnt^ never ri*arh rnll water in England, Wood,
flu* jiiitif{tuiry, in dt*H*nlIn^ III** joveriy and nwtcora-
tion of Father l*ue*y, an Kfi^ILflt U^uit>, tloo not
deny hint }n*er, !!** r^vw, " hin !nl waw under a
thiitf'liiifu; n*i tltt 1 way to it up a tuddrr; hw fare
wn< eortit-ir; hin drink* of a penny a puvit, or gallon,"
Tly hav* iiiniv eoM,itutiMtt.Hl eiirrgy lltint any
other people, They think, with Ilrnri C t Hmrr% that
nmiilv' exerriM 4 '* in** 1 the foundation of that (Novation
of iiiiitd wiiirli gi\i*^ OIH* niiltifi* :i?;ft*ndiint ovar
sin*'*li*r ; oi t ttiili ffjf ArulM* flwt ttuMlnyMMpoitt in
IV.]
RACE. 57
the chase are not counted in the length of life. They
box, run, shoot, ride, row, and sail from pole to pole.
They eat, and drink, and live jolly in the open air,
putting a bar of solid sleep between day and day.
They walk and ride as fast as they can, their head
bent forward, as if urged on some pressing affair.
The French say that Englishmen in the street always
walk straight before them, like mad dogs. Men and
women walk with infatuation. As soon as he can
handle a gun, hunting is the fine art of every English-
man of condition. They are the most voracious
people of prey that ever existed. Every season turns
out the aristocracy into the country to shoot and
fish. The more vigorous run out of the island to
Europe, to America, to Asia, to Africa, and Australia,
to hunt with fury by gun, by trap, by harpoon, by
lasso, with dog, with horse, with elephant, or with
dromedary, all the game that is in nature. These
men have written the game-books of all countries, as
Hawker, Scrope, Murray, Herbert, Maxwell, Gum-
ming, and a host of travellers. The people at home
are addicted to boxing, running, leaping, and rowing
matches.
I suppose the dogs and horses must bo thanked
for the fact that the men have muscles almost as
tough and supple as their own. If, in every efficient
man, there is first a fine animal, in the English race
it is of the best breed, a wealthy, juicy, broad-chested
creature, steeped in ale and good choer, and a Httlo
overloaded by his flesh. Men of animal nature rely,
like animals, on their instincts. The Englishman
58 ENGLISH TBA.1TS. [CHAP.
associates well with dogs and burses. His attachment
to the horse arises from the courage and address
required to manage it. The horse finds out who is
afraid of it, and does not disguise its opinion. Their
young boiling clerks and lusty collegians like the
company of horses hettcr than the company of pro-
fessors, I suppose the horses are better company
for them. The horse has more uses than Buifon
noted. If you go into the streets, every driver in
bus or dray is a bully, and, if I wanted a good troop
of soldiers, I should recruit among the stables. Add
a certain degree of rofincmont to the vivacity of
these riders, and you obtain the precise quality which
makes the men and women of polite society formi-
dable.
They come honestly by their horsemanship, with
ffengist and Horsa for their Saxon founders. The
other branch of thoir race had been Tartar nomads.
The horse was tall thoir wealth. The children were
fed on mares' milk The pastures of Tartary were
still remembered by the tenacious practice of the
Norsemen to oat horseflesh at religious feasts. In
the Danish invasions the marauders Heim! upon
horses where they landed, and wore at once converted
into a body of export cavalry,
At one time this skill soowis to have declined.
Two centuries ago, the English horao never performed
any eminent service beyond the scan ; and the reason
assigned was, that the genius of the English hath
always more inclined them to foot-sorvico, as pure
and proper manhood, without any mixture ; whilst,
iv.] JUCE. 59
in a victory on horseback, the credit ought to bo
divided betwixt the man and his horse. But in two
hundred years a change has taken place. Now,
they boast that they understand horses better than
any other people in the world, and that their horses
are become their second selves,
"William the Conqueror being," says Camden,
"better affected to beasts than to men, imposed heavy
fines and punishments on those that should meddle
with his game." The Saxon Chronicle says, "ho
loved the tall deer as if he were their father." And
rich Englishmen have followed his example, accord-
ing to their ability, ever since, in encroaching on the
tillage and commons with their game-preserves. It is
a proverb in England that it is safer to shoot a man
than a hare. The severity of the game-laws certainly
indicates an extravagant sympathy of the nation with
horses and hunters. The gentlemen are always on
horseback, and have brought horses to an ideal per-
fection, the English racer in a factitious brood. A
score or two of mounted gentlemen may frequently
be seen running like centaurs down a hill nearly as
steep as the roof of a house. Every inn-room is lined
with pictures of races ; telegraphs communicate,
every hour, tidings of the heats from Newmarket and
Ascot: and the House of Commons adjourns over
the "Derby Day"
60 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP,
CHAPTER V.
ABILITY.
THE Saxon and the Northman are both Scandinavians.
History does not allow us to fix the limits of the
application of these names with any accuracy; but
from the residence of a portion of these people in
France, and from some effect of that powerful soil on
their blood and manners, the Norman has come popu-
larly to represent in England the aristocratic, and
the Saxon the democratic principle, And though, I
doubt not, the nobles are of both tribes, and the
workers of both, yet we are forced to use the names
a littlo mythically, one to represent the worker, and
the other the enjoycr.
The island was a prize for the best race. Each
of the dominant races tried its fortune in turn. The
Phoenician, the Celt, and the Goth, had already got
in. The Eoman came, but in the very day when his
fortune culminated- He looked in the oyes of a new
people that was to supplant his own. He disembarked
his legions, erected his camps and towers, --presently
he heard bad news from Italy, and worse and worse,
every year ; at last, he made a handsome compliment
V.] ABILITY 61
of roads and walls, and departed. But the Saxon
seriously settled in the land, builded, tilled, fished,
and traded, with German truth and adhesiveness.
The Dane came and divided with him. Last of all,
the Norman, or French-Dane, arrived, and formally
conquered, harried, and ruled the kingdom. A
century later, it came out that the Saxon had the most
hottom and longevity, had managed to make the victor
speak the language and accept the law and usage of
the victim ; forced the baron to dictate Saxon terms to
Norman kings ; and, step by step, got all the essential
securities of civil liberty invented and confirmed.
The genius of the race and the genius of the place
conspired to this effect. The island is lucrative to
free labour, but not worth possession on other terms.
The race was so intellectual, that a feudal or military
tenure could not last longer than the war. The power
of the Saxon-Danes, so thoroughly beaten in the war,
that the name of English and villein were synonymous,
yet so vivacious as to extort charters from the kings,
stood on the strong personality of these people. Sense
and economy must rule in a world which is made of
sense and economy, and the banker, with his seven
per cent, drives the earl out of his castle. A nobility
of soldiers cannot keep down a commonalty of shrewd
scientific persons. What signifies a pedigree of a
hundred links against a cotton-spinner with steam in
his mill; or against a company of broad-shouldered
Liverpool merchants, for whom Stephenson and Brunei
are contriving locomotives and a tubular bridge ?
These Saxons are the hands of mankind. They
62 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP,
have the taste for toil, a distaste for pleasure or re<
pose, and the telescopic appreciation of distant gain.
They are the wealth-makers, and by dint of mental
faculty, which has its own conditions. The Saxon
works after liking, or, only for himself; and to set
him at work, and to begin to draw his monstrous
values out of barren Britain, all dishonour, fret, and
barrier must be removed, and then his energies begin
to play.
The Scandinavian fancied himself surrounded by
Trolls, a kind of goblin men, with vast power of
work and skilful production, divine stevedores,
carpenters, reapers, smiths, and masons, swift to re-
ward every kindness done them, with gifts of gold
and silver. In all English history this dream comes
to pass. Certain Trolls or working brains, under the
names of Alfred, Bede, Caxton, Bracton, Camden,
Drake, Selden, Dugdalo, Newton, Gibbon, Brindley,
Watt, Wedgwood, dwell in the troll -mounts of
Britain, and turn the sweat of their face to power
and renown.
If the race is good, so is the place. Nobody
landed on this spellbound island with impunity. The
enchantments of barren shingle and rough woathor
transformed every adventurer into a labourer. Each
vagabond that arrived bent his neck to the yoke of
gain, or found the air too tense for him, The strong
survived, the weaker wont to tho ground. Even the
pleasure-hunters and sots of England arc of a tougher
texture. A hard temperament had been formed by
Saxon and Saxon-Dane, and such of those French or
V.] ABILITY. 63
Normans as could reach it were naturalised in every
sense.
All the admirable expedients as means hit upon
in England, must "be looked at as growths or irresistible
offshoots of the expanding mind of the race. A man
of that brain thinks and acts thus ; and his neighbour,
being afflicted with the same kind of brain, though he
is rich, and called a baron, or a duke, thinks the same
thing, and is ready to allow the justice of the thought
and act in his retainer or tenant, though sorely against
his baronial or ducal will.
The island was renowned in antiquity for its breed
of mastiffs, so fierce, that when their teeth were set
you must cut their heads off to part them. The man
was like his dog. The people have that nervous
bilious temperament, which is known by medical men
to resist every means employed to make its possessor
subservient to the will of others. The English game is
main force to main force, the planting of foot to foot,
fair play and open field, a rough tug without trick
or dodging, till one or both come to pieces. King
Ethelwald spoke the language of his race when he
planted himself at Wimborne, and said, "he would
do one of two things, or there live, or there lie."
They hate craft and subtlety. They neither poison,
nor waylay, nor assassinate; and, when they have
pounded each other to a poultice, they will shake
hands and be friends for the remainder of their lives.
You shall trace those Gothic touches at school, at
country fairs, at the hustings, and in parliament, No
artifice, no breach of truth and plain dealing, not
64 ENGLISH TEAITS, [CHAP,
so much as secret ballot, m suffered in tho island. In
parliament, the tactics of the opposition is to resist
every step of the government, by a pitiless attack :
and in a bargain, no prospect of advantage is so dear
to the merchant, as the thought of being tricked is
mortifying.
Sir Kenelm Digby, a courtier of Charles and
James, who won the sea-fight of Scanderoon, was a
model Englishman in. his clay. "His person was
handsome and gigantic, he had so graceful elocution
and noble address, that, had ho been dropt out of the
clouds in any part of the world, he would have made
himself respected : he was skilled in six tongues, and
master of arts and arms." 1 Sir Konelm wrote a
book, "Of Bodies and of Souls," in winch he pro-
pounds, that " syllogisms do brood or rather are all
the variety of man's life. They are tho steps by
which we walk in all our businesses, Man, as he
is man, doth nothing else but weave such chains.
Whatsoever he doth, swarving from this work, he
doth as deficient from the nature of man : and, if he
do aught beyond this, by breaking out into divers
sorts of exterior actions, ho findeth, nevertheless, in
this linked sequel of simple discourses, the art, the
cause, the rule, tho bounds, and tho model of it." s
There spoke the genius of the English people.
There is a necessity on them to bo logical. They
would hardly greet the good that did not logically
falljas if it excluded their own merit, or shook their
understandings. They are jealous of minds that have
* Antony Wood. Man's Soulc, p, *29,
v.l ABILITY. 65
much facility of association, from an instinctive fear
that the seeing many relations to their thought might
impair this serial continuity and lucrative concentra-
tion. They are impatient of genius, or of minds
addicted to contemplation, and cannot conceal their
contempt for sallies of thought, however lawful,
whose steps they cannot count by their wonted rule.
Neither do they reckon better a syllogism that ends
in syllogism. For they have a supreme eye to facts,
and theirs is a logic that brings salt to soup, hammer
to nail, oar to boat, the logic of cooks, carpenters, and
chemists, following the sequence of nature, and one
on which words make no impression. Their mind is
not dazzled by its own means, but locked and bolted
to results. They love men, who, like Samuel John-
son, a doctor in the schools, would jump out of his
syllogism the instant, his major proposition was in
danger, to save that at all hazards. Their practical
vision is spacious, and they can hold many threads
without entangling them. All the steps they orderly
take ; but with the high logic of never confounding
the minor and major proposition ; keeping their eye
on their aim, in all the complicity and delay incident
to the several series of means they employ. There
is room in their minds for this and that, a science
of degrees. In the courts, the independence of the
judges and the loyalty of the suitors are equally
excellent In Parliament, they have hit on that
capital invention of freedom, a constitutional opposi-
tion. And when courts and parliament are both
deaf, the plaintiff is not silenced. Calm, patient, his
VOL. IV. F
66 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
weapon of defence from year to year is the obstinate
reproduction of the grievance, with calculations and
estimates. But, meantime, he is drawing numbers
and money to his opinion, resolved that if all remedy
fails, right of revolution is at the bottom of his
charter-box They are bound to see their measure
carried, and stick to it through ages of defeat.
Into this English logic, however, an infusion of
justice enters, not so apparent in other races, a belief
in the existence of two sides, and the resolution to
see fair play. There is, on every question, an appeal
from the assertion of the parties to the proof of what
is asserted. They are impious in their scepticism of
a theory, but kiss the dust before a fact. Is it a
machine, is it a charter, is it a boxer in the ring, is it
a candidate on the hustings, -the universe of English-
men will suspend their judgment, until tho trial can
be had. They are not to be led by a phrase, they
want a working plan, a working machine, a working
constitution, and will sit out tho trial, and abide by
the issue, and reject all preconceived theories. In
politics they put blunt questions, which must be
answered; who is to pay tho taxes 1 what will you
do for trade ? what for com 1 what for tho spinner ?
This singular fairness and its results strike tho
French with surprise. Philip tie Conimines says,
" Now, in my opinion, among all the sovereignties I
know in the world, that in which tho public good is
best attended to, and tho least violence exercised on
the people, is that of England" Life is safe, and
personal rights,- and what is freedom without sccu-
V.] ABILITY. 67
rity? whilst in France, "fraternity," "equality," and
;c indivisible unity," are names for assassination. Mon-
tesquieu said, "England is the freest country in the
world. If a man in England had as many enemies as
hairs on his head, no harm would happen to him."
Their self-respect, their faith in causation, and
their realistic logic or coupling of means to ends,
have given them the leadership of the modern world.
Montesquieu said, "ISTo people have true common
sense but those who are born in England." This com-
mon sense is a perception of all the conditions of our
earthly existence, of laws that can be stated, and of
laws that cannot be stated, or that are learned only
by practice, in which allowance for friction is made.
They are impious in their scepticism of theory, and
in high departments they are cramped and sterile.
But the unconditional surrender to facts, and the
choice of means to reach their ends, are as admirable
as with ants and bees.
The bias of the nation is a passion for utility.
They love the lever, the screw, and pulley, the
Flanders draught -horse, the waterfall, wind -mills,
tide-mills ; the sea and the wind to bear their freight
ships. More than the diamond Koh-i-noor, which
glitters among their crown jewels, they prize that
dull pebble which is wiser than a man, whose poles
turn themselves to the poles of the world, and whoso
axis is parallel to the axis of the world. Now, their
toys are steam and galvanism. They are heavy at
the fine arts, but adroit at the coarse \ not good in
jewellery or mosaics, but the best ironmasters, colliers,
68 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
wool-combers, and tanners, in Europe. They apply
themselves to agriculture, to draining, to resisting
encroachments of sea, wind, travelling sands, cold
and wet subsoil ; to fishery, to manufacture of indis-
pensable staples, salt, plumbago, leather, wool, glass,
pottery, and brick, to bees and silkworms ; -and by
their steady combinations they succeed. A manu-
facturer sits down to dinner in a suit of clothes which
was wool on a sheep's back at sunrise. You dine
with a gentleman on venison, pheasant, quail, pigeons,
poultry, mushrooms, and pine-apples, all the growth
of his estate. They are neat husbands for ordering
all their tools pertaining to house and field. All are
well kept. There is no want and no waste. They
study use and fitness in their building, in the order
of their dwellings, and in their dross. Tho French-
man invented the ruffle, the Englishman added the
shirt. The Englishman wears a sensible coat buttoned
to the chin, of rough but solid and lasting texture.
If he is a lord, he dresses a little worse than a com-
moner. They have diffused the tasto for plain sub
stantial hats, shoes, and coats through Europe. They
think him the best dressed man whose dress Is so fit
for his use that you cannot notice or remember to
describe it.
They secure the essentials in their diet, in their
arts and manufactures. Every article of cutlery
shows, in its shape, thought and long experience of
workmen. They put the expense in the right place,
as, in their soa- steamers, in the solidity of the
machinery and the strength of tho boat. The admir*
v.] ABILITY. 69
able equipment of their arctic ships carries London to
the pole. They build roads, aqueducts, warm and ven-
tilate houses. And they have impressed their direct-
ness and practical habit on modern civilisation.
In trade, the Englishman believes that nobody
breaks who ought not to break ; and that, if he do
not make trade everything, it will make him nothing;
and acts on this belief. The spirit of system, atten-
tion to details, and the subordination of details, or,
the not driving things too finely (which is charged on
the Germans), constitute that despatch of business,
which makes the mercantile power of England.
In war, the Englishman looks to his means, Ho
is of the opinion of Civilis, his German ancestor,
whom Tacitus reports as holding " that the gods are
on the side of the strongest;" a sentence which
Bonaparte unconsciously translated, when he said,
" that he had noticed that Providence always favoured
the heaviest battalion." Their military science pro-
pounds that if the weight of the advancing column is
greater than that of the resisting, the latter is de-
stroyed. Therefore Wellington, when he came to
the army in Spain, had every man weighed, first with
accoutrements, and then without ; believing that the
force of an army depended on the weight and power
of the individual soldiers, in spite of cannon. Lord
Palmerston told the House of Commons that moro
care is taken of the health and comfort of English
troops than of any other troops in the world; and
that, hence, the English can put more men into the
rank on the day of action, on the field of battle, than
70 ENGLISH TKAITS. [CHAP.
any other army. Before the bombardment of the
Danish forts in the Baltic, Nelson spent day after
day, himself in the boats, on the exhausting service
of sounding the channel. Clerk of Eldin's celebrated
manoeuvre of breaking the line of sea-battle, and
Nelson's feat of doublwg, or stationing his ships one
on the outer bow and another on the outer quarter
of each of the enemy's, were only translations into
naval tactics of Bonaparte's rule of concentration,
Lord Collingwood was accustomed to tell his men,
that, if they could fire three well-directed broadsides
in five minutes, no vessel could resist them; and,
from constant practice, they came to do it in three
minutes and a half.
But conscious that no race of better men exists,
they rely most on the simplest means ; and do not
like ponderous and difficult tactics, but delight to bring
the affair hand to hand ; where the victory lies with
the strength, courage, and endurance of the indi-
vidual combatants. They adopt every improvement
in rig, in motor, in weapons, but they fundamentally
believe that the boat stratagem in naval war is to lay
your ship close alongside of the enemy's ship, and
bring all your guns to bear on him, until you or he
go to the bottom. This is the old fashion, which
never goes out of fashion, neither in nor out of England.
It is not usually a point of honour, nor a religious
sentiment, and never any whim, that they will shed
their blood for; but usually property, and right
measured by property, that broods revolution. They
have no Indian taste for a tomahawk-dance, no French
V.] ABILITY. 71
taste for a badge or a proclamation. The Englishman
is peaceably minding his business, and earning his
day's wages. But if you offer to lay hand on his
day's wages, on his cow, or his right in common, or
his shop, he will fight to the Judgment. Magna
Charta, jury trial, habeas corpus, star-chamber, ship-
money, Popery, Plymouth colony, American Revolu-
tion, are all questions involving a yeoman's right to
his dinner, and, except as touching that, would not
have lashed the British nation to rage and revolt.
Whilst they are thus instinct with a spirit of order,
and of calculation, it must be owned they are capable
of larger views ; but the indulgence is expensive to
them, costs great crises, or accumulations of mental
power. In common, the horse works best with
blinders. Nothing is more in the line of English
thought than our unvarnished Connecticut question,
"Pray, sir, how do you get your living when you are
at home ?" The questions of freedom, of taxation, of
privilege, are money questions. Heavy fellows,
steeped in beer and fleshpots, they are hard of hear-
ing and dim of sight. Their drowsy minds need to
be flagellated by war and trade and politics and per-
secution. They cannot well read a principle except
by the light of faggots and of burning towns,
Tacitus says of the Germans, "powerful only in
sudden efforts, they are impatient of toil and labour."
This highly-destined race, if it had not somewhere
added the chamber of patience to its brain, would not
have built London. I know not from which of the
tribes and temperaments that went to the composition
72 ENGLISH THAiTS. [OHAI*
of the people this tenacity was supplied, but they
clinch every nail they drive. They have no running
for luck, and no immoderate speed. They spend
largely on their fabric, and await the slow return.
Their leather lies tanning seven years in the vat. At
Rogers's mills, in Sheffield, where T was shown the
process of making a razor and a penknife, I was told
there is no luck in making good steel ; that they make
no mistakes, every blade in the hundred and in the
thousand is good. And that is characteristic of all
their work, no more is attempted than is done.
When Thor and his companions arrive at TJtgard,
he is told that " nobody is permitted to remain here
unless he understand some art, and excel in it all other
men." The same question is still put to the posterity
of Thor. A nation of labourers, every man is trained
to some one art or detail, and aims at perfection in
that ; not content xinless he has something in which
he thinks he surpasses all other men. He would
rather not do anything at all than not do it well. I
suppose no people have such thoroughness ; from the
highest to the lowest, ovory man moaning to bo
master of his art.
"To show capacity," a Ifrcnehmari described as the
end of a speech in debate : "No," said an Englishman,
" but to set your shoulder at the wheel, to advance
the business." Sir Samuel Romilly rcfuHcd to speak
in popular assemblies, confining himself to the House
of Commons, where a measure can be carried by a
speech. The business of the HOUHO of Commons
is conducted by a few poreom, but these are hard
yr.] ABILITY. 73
worked. Sir Robert Peel " knew the Blue Books by
heart." His colleagues and rivals carry Hansard in
their heads. The high civil and legal offices are not
beds of ease, but posts which exact frightful amounts
of mental labour. Many of the great leaders, like
Pitt, Canning, Castlereagh, Romilly, are soon worked
to death. They are excellent judges in England of a
good worker, and when they find one, like Clarendon,
Sir Philip Warwick, Sir William Coventry, Ashley,
Burke, Thurlow, Mansfield, Pitt, Eldon, Peel, or Russell,
there is nothing too good or too high for him.
They have a wonderful heat in the pursuit of a
public aim. Private persons exhibit, in scientific and
antiquarian researches, the same pertinacity as the
nation showed in the coalitions in which it yoked
Europe against the empire of Bonaparte, one after
the other defeated, and still renewed, until the sixth
hurled him from his seat.
Sir John Herschel, in completion of the work of
his father, who had made the catalogue of the stars
of the northern hemisphere, expatriated himself for
years at the Cape of Good Hope, finished his inven-
tory of the southern heaven, came home, and redacted
it in eight years more; a work whose value does
not begin until thirty years have elapsed, and thence-
forward a record to all ages of the highest import.
The Admiralty sent out the Arctic expeditions year
after year, in search of Sir John Franklin, until, at
last, they have threaded their way through polar pack
and Behring's Straits, and solved the geographical
problem. Lord Elgin, at Athens, saw the imminent
74 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
ruin of the Greek remains, set up his scaffoldings, in
spite of epigrams, and, after five years' labour to
collect them, got his marbles on shipboard. The ship
struck a rock, and went to the bottom. He had them
all fished up by divers, at a vast expense, and brought
to London; not knowing that Haydon, Fusoli, and
Oanova, and all good heads in all the world, were to
be his applauders. In the same spirit were the
excavation and research by Sir Charles Followos, for
the Xanthian monument; and of Layard for his
Nineveh sculptures,
The nation sits in the immense city they have
builded, a London extended into every man's mind,
though he live in Van Diemen's Land or Capetown,
Faithful performance of what is undertaken to bo
performed they honour in themselves, and exact in
others, as certificate of equality with themselves. The
modern world is theirs. They have made and make
it day by day. The commercial relations of the world
are so intimately drawn to London, that every dollar
on earth contributes to the strength of the English
government. And if all the wealth in the planet
should perish by war or deluge, they know them-
selves competent to replace it
They have approved their Saxon blood by their
sea-going qualities ; their descent from Odin's smiths
by thoir hereditary skill in working in iron; their
British birth by husbandry and immonao wheat
harvests ; and justified thoir occupancy of the centre
of habitable land by thoir supremo ability and cos-
mopolitan spirit. They have tilled, builded, forged,
v.] ABILITY. 75
spun, and woven. They have made the island a
thoroughfare ; and London a shop, a law-court, a re-
cord-office, and scientific bureau, inviting to strangers ;
a sanctuary to refugees of every political and religious
opinion; and such a city, that almost every active
man, in any nation, finds himself, at one time or
other, forced to visit it.
In every path of practical activity they have gone
even with the best. There is no secret of war in
which they have not shown mastery. The steam-
chamber of Watt, the locomotive of Stephenson, the
cotton -mule of Roberts, perform the labour of the
world. There is no department of literature, of
science, or of useful art, in which they have not pro-
duced a first-rate book, It is England whose opinion
is waited for on the merit of a new invention, an im-
proved science. And in the complications of the
trade and politics of their vast empire they have been
equal to every exigency, with counsel and with con-
duct. Is it their luck, or is it in the chambers of
their brain, it is their commercial advantage, that
whatever light appears in better method or happy
invention, breaks out in their race. They are a family
to which a destiny attaches, and the Banshee has
sworn that a male heir shall never be wanting. They
have a wealth of men to fill important posts, and the
vigilance of party criticism insures the selection of a
competent person.
A proof of the energy of the British people is the
highly artificial construction of the whole fabric. The
76 ENGLISH TRAITS.
[OHA.P.
climate and geography, I said, were factitious, as if
the hands of man had arranged the conditions. The
same character pervades the whole kingdom. Bacon
said, "Borne was a state not subject to paradoxes-"
but England subsists by antagonisms and contradic-
tions. The foundations of its greatness are the roll-
ing waves ; and, from first to last, it is a museum of
anomalies. This foggy and rainy country furnishes
the world with astronomical observations. Its short
rivers do not afford watvr~po\v<T, but the land shakes
under the thunder of the mills. There is no gold
mine of any importance, but there is more gold in
England than in all other countries, It is too far
north for the culture of the vino, but the wines of all
countries are in its docks. The French Comte do
Lauraguais said, " no fruit ripens in England but a
baked apple' 7 ; but oranges and pine-apples are as
cheap in London as in the Mediterranean. The
Mark-Lane Express, or the. Custom House Returns
bear out to the lottnr the vaunt of Pope,
" Lot; India "boant htir pulm, nor <mvy w
Tho wftoping amber, nor tlw |>ioy trtw,
While, by our oaka, those iiimnu:. lutulB are borne,
And realms commanded whirh thasr tratw adorn/'
The native cattle arc extinct, but the island is full of
artificial breeds, The agriculturist; Bake well created
fihoep atid cows arid horwrn to order, and broods m
which everything wan omitted 1m t what is economical,
Tho cow IB sacrificed to her bag, the ox to his sirloin.
Stall-feeding makoa sparm-milto of thci cattle, and con-
verts the stable to a clmiioal factory. The rivers,
v,] FACTITIOUS. 77
lakes and ponds, too much fished, or obstructed "by
factories, are artificially filled with the eggs of salmon,
turbot, and herring.
Chat Moss and the fens of Lincolnshire and Cam-
bridgeshire are unhealthy and too barren to pay rent.
By cylindrical tiles, and gutta-percha tubes, five
millions of acres of bad land have been drained and
put on equality with the best, for rape -culture and
grass. The climate too, which was already believed
to have become milder and drier by the enormous
consumption of coal, is so far reached by this new
action, that fogs and storms are said to disappear.
In due course, all England will be drained, and rise a
second time out of the waters. The latest step was
to call in the aid of steam to agriculture. Steam is
almost an Englishman. I do not know but they will
send him to Parliament next, to make laws. He
weaves, forges, saws, pounds, fans, and now he must
pump, grind, dig, and plough for the farmer. The
markets created by the manufacturing population have
erected agriculture into a great thriving and spending
industry. The value of the houses in Britain is equal
to the value of the soil. Artificial aids of all kinds
are cheaper than the natural resources. No man can
afford to walk, when the parliamentary train carries
him for a penny a mile. Gas-burners are cheaper
than daylight in numberless floors in the cities. All
the houses in London buy their water. The English
trade does not exist for the exportation of native
products, but on its manufactures, or the making well
everything which is ill made elsewhere. They make
78 ENGLISH Til AITS. [OHAP.
ponchos for the Mexican, bandannas for the Hindoo,
ginseng for the Chinese, beads for the Indian, laces
for the Flemings, telescopes for astronomers, cannons
for kings.
The Board of Trade caused the best models of
Greece and Italy to bo placed within the reach of
every manufacturing population. They caused to be
translated from foreign languages and illustrated by
elaborate drawings, the most approved works of
Munich, Berlin, and Paris, They have ransacked
Italy to find now forms, to add a grace to the products
of their looms, their potteries, and their foundries. 1
The nearer we look, the more artificial is their
social system. Their law is a network of fictions.
Their property, a scrip or certificate of right to
interest on money that no man ever saw. Their social
classes are made by statute. Their ratios of power
and representation are historical and legal. The last
Keform-bill took away political power from a mound,
a ruin, and a stone -wall, whilst Binuinglwun, and
Manchester, whose mills pijid for the wars of Europe,
had no representative. Purity in the elective Parlia-
ment is secured by the purchase of seats/* Foreign
power is kept by armed colonies ; power at homo, by
a standing army of police. The pauper lives better
than the froo labourer ; the thief bettor than the
pauper; and the transported felon bettor than the
emorial of H. Orneutmigh, p $6, Nuw York, 1853,
3 Sir 8. Komilly, jmrtwt f Kn^lwli jiatriotH, doddud that
tho only indepuridont wtulu of <m taring I'arliamwifr wiw to buy
aaoat, and he bought llorHluuu.
v,] FACTITIOUS. 79
one under imprisonment. The crimes are factitious,
as smuggling, poaching, nonconformity, heresy and
treason. Better, they say in England, kill a man than
a hare. The sovereignty of the seas is maintained by
the impressment of seamen. "The impressment of
seamen," said Lord Eldon, " is the life of our navy."
Solvency is maintained by means of a national debt,
on the principle, "if you will not lend me the money,
how can I pay you?" For the administration of justice,
Sir Samuel Eomilly's expedient for clearing the arrears
of business in Chancery, was, the Chancellor's staying
away entirely from his court. Their system of educa-
tion is factitious. The Universities galvanise dead
languages into a semblance of life. Their church is
artificial. The manners and customs of society are
artificial; made-up men with made-up manners;--
and thus the whole is Birminghamised, and wo have
a nation whose existence is a work of art; a cold,
barren, almost arctic isle, being made the most fruit-
ful, luxurious, and imperial land in the whole earth.
Man in England submits to be a product of political
economy. On a bleak moor a mill is built, a bank-
ing-house is opened, and men come in', as water in a
sluice-way, and towns and cities rise. Man is made
as a Birmingham button. The rapid doubling of tho
population dates from Watt's steam-engine. A land-
lord, who owns a province, says, "The tonantiy are
unprofitable; let me have sheep." Ho unroofs tho
houses, and ships the population to America. The
nation is accustomed to the instantaneous creation of
wealth. It is the maxim of their economists, " that
80 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
the greater part in value of the wealth now existing
in England has been produced by human hands with-
in the last twelve months." Meantime, three or four
days' rain will reduce hundreds to starving in London.
One secret of their power is their mutual good
understanding. Not only good mini Is are born among
them, but all the people have good minds. Every
nation has yielded some good wit, if, as has chanced
to many tribes, only one. But the intellectual organ-
isation of the English admits a coinmunicableness of
knowledge and ideas among them all. An electric
touch by any of their national ideas molts thorn into
one family, and brings the hoards of power which
their individuality is always hiving, into use and play
for all. Is it the smallnoss of the country, or is it the
pride and affection of race, they have solidarity, or
responsibleness, and trust in each other.
Their minds, like wool, admit of a dye which is
more lasting than the cloth. They embrace thoir
cause with more tenacity than thoir life. Though
not military, yet every common subject by the poll is
fit to make a soldier of. Those private reserved mute
family-men can adopt a public end with all their heat,
and this strength of affection makes tho romance of
their heroes. Tho difference of rank does not divide
the national heart. Tho Danish poot Ohlenschlagor
complains, that who writes in Danish writes to two
hundred readers, In Germany, there is one speech
for tho learned and another for the masses, to that
extent, that, it is said, no sentiment or phrase from
v.] SOLIDARITY. 81
tlie works of any great German writer is ever heard
among the lower classes. But in England, the lan-
guage of the noble is the language of the poor. In
Parliament, in pulpits, in theatres, when the speakers
rise to thought and passion, the language becomes
idiomatic ; the people in the street best understand
the best words. And their language seems drawn
from the Bible, the common law, and the works of
Shakspeare, Bacon, Milton, Pope, Young, Cowper,
Burns, and Scott. The island has produced two or
three of the greatest men that ever existed, but they
were not solitary in their own time. Men quickly
embodied what Newton found out, in Greenwich
observatories, and practical navigation. The boys
know all that Hutton knew of strata, or Dalton of
atoms, or Harvey of blood-vessels and these studies,
once dangerous, are in fashion. So what is invented
or known in agriculture, or in trade, or in war, or in
art, or in literature, and antiquities. A great ability,
not amassed on a few giants, but poured into the
general mind, so that each of them could at a pinch
stand in the shoes of the other ; and they are more
bound in character, than differenced in ability or in
rank. The labourer is a possible lord. The lord is
a possible basket -maker. Every man carries the
English system in his brain, knows what is confided
to him, and does therein the best he can. The
chancellor carries England on his mace, the midship-
man at the point of his dirk, the smith on his hammer,
the cook in the bowl of his spoon j the postilion cracks
his whip for England, and the sailor times his cans to
VOL. IV.
82 ENGLISH TRAITS.
[CHAT*.
"God save the King !" The very felons have their
pride in each other's English stanchness. In politics
and in war they hold together as by hooks of steel.
The charm in Nelson's history is the unselfish great-
ness ; the assurance of being supported to the utter-
most by those whom he supports to the uttermost.
Whilst they are some ages ahead of the rest of the
world in the art of living : whilst in some directions
they do not represent the modern spirit, but constitute
it,- this vanguard of civility and power they coldly
hold, marching in phalanx, lockstop, foot after foot>
file after file of heroes, ten thousand deep.
MANNERS. 83
CHAPTER VI
MANNERS.
I FIND the Englishman to be him of all men who
stands firmest in his shoes. They have in themselves
what they value in their horses, mettle and bottom.
On the day of my arrival at Liverpool, a gentleman,
in describing to me the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland,
happened to say, " Lord Clarendon has pluck like a
cock, and will fight till he dies ;" and, what I heard
first, I heard last, and the one thing the English value,
is pluck. The cabmen have it ; the merchants have
it; the bishops have it; the women have it; the
journals have it ; the Times newspaper, they say, Is
the pluckiest thing in England, and Sydney Smith
had made it a proverb, that little Lord John Russell,
the minister, would take the command of the Channel
fleet to-morrow.
They require you to dare to be of your own opinion,
and they hate the practical cowards who cannot in
affairs answer directly yes or no. They dare to dis-
please, nay, they will let you break all the command-
ments, if you do it natively, and with spirit. You
must be somebody ; then you may do this or that, as
you will
84 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
Machinery has been applied to all work, and
carried to such perfection, that little is loft for the
men but to mind the engines and feed the furnaces.
But the machines require punctual service, and, as
they never tire, they prove too much for their tenders.
Mines, forges, mills, breweries, railroads, steampump,
steamplough, drill of regiments, drill of police, rule
of court, and shop -rule, have operated to give a
mechanical regularity to all the habit and action of
men. A terrible machine has possessed itself of the
ground, the air, the men and women, and hardly oven
thought is free.
The mechanical might and organisation requires in
the people constitution and answering spirits ; and
he who goes among them must have some weight of
metal. At last, you take your hint from the fury of
life you find, and say, ono thing is plain, this is no
country for fainthearted people : <lon*t creep about
diffidently; make up your mind; take your own
course, and you .shall find rospoot and furtherance.
It requires, men say, a good constitution to travel
in Spain. I nay a* much of England, for other cause,
simply on account of the vigour and brawn of the
people. Nothing but thti imwt HMIOUH business could
give ono atiy counterweight to thtwn Baresark^ though
they wore only to order eggs and muffins for their
breakfast The Knglishman speaks with all hia body,
Hin elocution is stomachic, -"itR the American's is
labial. The Englishman i vory potulant and precise
about his accommodation at inns, and on th roods j
a quiddle about, his toat and hit* chop, and every
vi.] MANNERS. 85
species of convenience, and loud and pungent in his
expressions of impatience at any neglect. His vivacity
betrays itself, at all points, in his manners, in his
respiration, and the inarticulate noises ho makes in
clearing the throat ; all significant of "burly strength.
He has stamina ~ } he can take the initiative in emer-
gencies. He fyas that aplomb which results from a
good adjustment of the moral and physical nature,
and the obedience of all the powers to the will ; as if
the axes of his eyes were united to his backbone, and
only moved with the trunk.
This vigour appears in the incuriosity, and stony
neglect, each of every other. Each man walks, oats,
drinks, shaves, dresses, gesticulates, and, in every
manner, acts and suffers without reference to tlio
bystanders, in his own fashion, only careful not to
interfere with them, or annoy them ; not that he is
trained to neglect the eyes of his neighbours, ho is
really occupied with his own affair, and does not
think of them. Every man in this polished country
consults only his convenience, as much as a solitary
pioneer in Wisconsin. I know not where any per-
sonal eccentricity is so freely allowed, and no man
gives himself any concern with it An Englishman
walks in a pouring rain, swinging his closed umbrella
like a walking-stick ; wears a wig, or a shawl, or a
saddle, or stands on his head, and no remark is made,
And as he has been doing this for several generations,
it is now in the blood.
In short, every one of these islanders is an island
himself, safe, tranquil, incommunicable. In a com-
86 ENGLISH TRAITS.
pany of strangers you would think him deaf; his
eyes never wander from his table and newspaper.
Ho is never betrayed into any curiosity or unbecom-
ing emotion, Tlioy have all been trained in one
severe school of manners, and never put off the har-
ness. He does not give 1m hand. Ho does not let
you meet his eye, It is almost an affront to look a
man in the face without being introduced. In mixed
or in select companies they do not introduce persons;
so that a presentation i a circumstance OH valid an a
contract. Introductions are sacraments. Ho with-
holds his name. At the hotel, ho is hardly willing
to whisper it to the clerk at the book-office. If ho
give you his private address on a card, it is like an
avowal of friendship ; and his bearing on being intro-
duced, is cold, oven though ho IH Hooking your
acquaintance, and is studying how he shall serve you.
It was an odd proof of this impress! vt- energy, that,
in my lectures, I hesitated to read and throw out for
its impurl-inence many a disparaging i throw, which I
had boon accustomed to Kpin, about poor, thin, unable
mortals; --flo much laid the fine physique and the
personal vigour of thin robuat race worked on my
imagination.
J happened to arrive in England at the moment
of a commercial r.raia But it was evident that, kit
who will fail, England will not,. Them* people have
sat hero a thousand yearn, and hero will continue to
sit. They will not break up, or arrive at any desper-
ate revolution, liko thoir ut'ighbourH ; for they have
an much energy, m much continence of character as
NTJ.J MANNERS. 87
they ever had. The power and possession which
surround them are their own creation, and they exert
the same commanding industry at this moment.
They are positive, methodical, cleanly, and formal,
loving routine and conventional ways ; loving truth
and religion, to be sure, but inexorable on points of
form. All the world praises the comfort and private
appointments of an English inn, and of English house-
holds. You are sure of neatness and of personal
decorum. A Frenchman may possibly be clean ; an
Englishman is conscientiously clean. A certain order
and complete propriety is found in his dress and in
his belongings.
Born in a harsh and wet climate, which keeps Mm
indoors whenever he is at rest, and being of an affec-
tionate and loyal temper, he dearly loves his house,
If he is rich he buys a demesne, and builds a hall ; if
he is in middle condition, he spares no expense on his
house. Without, it is all planted : within, it is
wainscoted, carved, curtained, hung with pictures,
and filled with good furniture. 'Tis a passion which
survives all others, to dock and improve it. Hither
he brings all that is rare and costly, and with the
national tendency to sit fast in the same spot for
many generations, it comes to be, in the course of
time, a museum of heirlooms, gifts, and trophies of
the adventures and exploits of tho family. Ho is
very fond of silver plate, and, though he have no
gallery of portraits of his ancestors, ho has of their
punch-bowls and porringers. Incredible amounts of
plate are found in good houses, and the poorest have
88 KNGLtSII TKAITR.
soino spoon or saucepan, gift of a godmother, saved
out of bettor times.
An English family consists of a few persons, who,
from youth to age, are found revolving within a, few
foot of each other, us if tied by some invisible ligature,
teBSO as that cartilage which wo havo seen attaching
the two Siamese. England producer under favourable
conditions of case and culture the finest women in the
world. And as tho men are affectionate and. true-
hearted, the women inspire and refme thorn. Nothing
can bo more delicate without being fantastical, nothing
more firm and based in nature and sentiment, than
tlio courtship and mutual carriage of the soxea The
song of lf>96 says, "Tho wife of every Englishman m
counted blest" Tho sentiment of Imogen in Cymbo-
Ime is copied from English nature j and not loss the
Portia of Brutus, tho Kate J-Vn'cy, and tho Dcwdemona.
The romance dona not exceed tho height of noble
passion in Mrn, Lucy Ilutchiiwon, or in Lady Kiwsoll,
or even as one diacorna through tho plain prose of
Pepys's J)iary, the sacred habit of an Knglwh wife.
Sir Samuel Uomilly could not bear the death of hin
wife. Every claws has its noble and tender examples.
"Domesticity in tho taproot whirls eriablcH I ha nation
to branch wide and higlu Tho. mcttive and end of
their trade and empire is to guard the independence
and privacy of their homos. Nothing HO much marks
their manners an tho concentration on their household
ties. This domesticity w carrii'd into court and
camp, WcllingUm i/o\crn<*d India auul Spain and hi
own troops and fought battles like* a g<nwl family-
VL] MANNERS. 89
man, paid his debts, and, though general of an army
in Spain, could not stir abroad for fear of public
creditors. This taste for house and parish merits has
of course its doting and foolish side. Mr. Cobbett
attributes the huge popularity of Perceval, prime
minister in 1810, to the fact that he was wont to go to
church every Sunday with a large quarto gilt prayer-
book under one arm, his wife hanging on the other,
and followed by a long brood of children.
They keep their old customs, costumes, and pomps,
their wig and mace, sceptre and crown. The middle
ages still lurk in the streets of London. The Knights
of the Bath take oath to defend injured ladies ; the
gold -stick -in -waiting survives. They repeated the
ceremonies of the eleventh century in the coronation
of the present Queen. A hereditary tenure is natural
to them. Offices, farms, trades, and traditions descend
so. Their leases run for a hundred and a thousand
years. Terms of service and partnership are life-long,
or are inherited. "Holdship has boon with me," said
Lord Eldon, " oight-and-twonty years, knows all my
business and books." Antiquity of usage is sanction
enough. Wordsworth says of the small freeholders
of Westmoreland, " Many of these humble sons of tho
hills had a consciousness that tho land which they
tilled had for more than five hundred years boon pos-
sessed by men of tho same narno and blood," The
ship-carpenter in tho public yards, my lord's gardener
and porter, have boon there for more than a hundred
years, grandfather, father, and son.
The English power resides also in their dislike of
90 ENGLISH Til AITS. [OHAI.
change. They have difficulty in bringing thoir reason
to act, and on all occasions use thoir memory first.
As soon as they have rid themselves of some grievance,
and settled the bettor practice, they make haste to fix
it as a finality, and never wish to hear of alteration
more.
Every Englishman is an embryonic chancellor;
His instinct is to search for a precedent. The favour-
ite phrase of thoir law ia, "a custom whereof the
memory of man runneth not bock to the contrary."
The barons say, " Nbhvnins midmi ;" and t.ho cockneys
stifle the curiosity of the foreigner on the reason of
any practice, with "Lord, sir, it was always so,"
They hate innovation. Bacon told thorn, Time was
the right reformer ; Chatham, that " confidence was a
plant of slow growth;" Canning, to ** advance with
the times;" and Wellington, that "habit was ten
times nature," All thoir statesmen loaru tine irresisti-
bility of the tide of custom, and have invented many
fine phrases to cover this slowness of pmv-pMou, and
prchensilit.y of tail.
A sea shell should bo the erost of England, not only
because it rc.proso.nf.M a power built on the waves, but
also the hard finish of the men. The Englishman is
finished like a cowry or a murejc. After the apire
and the spines are formed, or, with the formation, a
juico oxudos, and a hard enamel varnishes every part
The keeping of the proprieties is m indispensable as
clean linen. No merit quite countervails the want of
this, whilst this sometimes stands in lieu of all. " 'Tis
in bad taste," is the most formidable word an English-
vi.] MANNEKS. 91
man can pronounce. But this japan costs them clear.
There is a prose in certain Englishmen, which exceeds
in wooden deadness all rivalry with other country-
men. There is a knell in the conceit and externality
of their voice, which seems to say, Leave all hope
behind. In this Gibraltar of propriety, mediocrity gets
intrenched, and consolidated, and founded in adamant.
An Englishman of fashion is like one of those sou-
venirs bound in gold vellum, enriched with delicate
engravings on thick hot -pressed paper, fit for the
hands of ladies and princes, but with nothing in it
worth reading or remembering,
A severe decorum rules the court and the cottage.
When Thalberg, the pianist, was one evening per-
forming before the Queen at Windsor, in a private
party, the Queen accompanied him with her voice.
The circumstance took air, and all England shuddered
from sea to sea. The indecorum was never repeated.
Cold, repressive manners prevail. No enthusiasm is
permitted except at the opera. They avoid every-
thing marked, They require a tone of voice that
excites no attention in the room. Sir Philip Sydney
is one of the patron saints of England, of whom
Wotton said, "His wit was the measure of eongruity,"
Pretension and vapouring are once for all distaste-
ful. They keep to the other extreme of low tone in
dress and manners. They avoid pretension and go
right to the heart of the thing. They hate nonsense,
sentimentalism, and highflown expression ; they xise
a studied plainness. Even Brummcl their fop waa
marked by the severest simplicity in dress. They
92 ENGLISH TRAITS.
value themselves on the absence of everything theatri-
cal in the public business, and on conciseness and going
to the point in private affairs.
In an aristocratical country, like England, not the
Trial by Jury, but the dinner, is the capital institu-
tion, It is the mode of doing honour to a stranger, to
invite him to oat, and has been for many hundred
years. "And they think," says the Venetian traveller
of 1500, "no greater honour can be conferred or
received, than to invite others to eat with them, or
to be invited themselves, and they would soon or give
five or six ducats to provide an. entertainment for a
person, than a groat to assist him in any distress." 1
It is reserved to the end of the clay, the family-hour
being generally six, in London, and, if any company
is expected, ono or two hours later. Kvery one
dresses for dinner, in his own house, or in another
man's. The guosts are expected to arrive within half-
an-hour of the time fixed by card of invitation, and
nothing but death or mutilation is permitted to detain
them. The English dinner is precisely the model on
which our own are constructed in the Ail antic cities.
The company sit ono or two bourn, before the ladies
leave the table. The gentlemen remain over their
wine an hour longer, and rejoin tho ladies in the
drawing -room, and take coflfea The dross-dinner
generates a talent of table-talk which reaches great
perfection ; the stories arc so good, that ono is sure
they must have boon often told before, to have got
such happy turns. Hither come all tmumor of clever
1 "Relation of England," Printed by tho CamtUm Soaiaty,
vi.) MANNERS. 93
projects s bits of popular science, of practical inven-
tion, of miscellaneous humour ; political, literary, and
personal news; railroads, horses, diamonds, agricul-
ture, horticulture, pisciculture, and wine.
English stories, bon-mots, and the recorded table-
talk of their wits, are as good as the best of the
French. In America, we are apt scholars, but have
not yet attained the same perfection : for the range of
nations from which London draws, and the steep con-
trasts of condition create the picturesque in society, as
broken country makes picturesque landscape, whilst
our prevailing equality makes a prairie tameness : and
secondly, because the usage of a dress-dinner every
day at dark has a tendency to hive and produce to
advantage everything good. Much attrition has worn
every sentence into a bullet. Also one meets now
and then with polished men, who know everything,
have tried everything, can do everything, and are
quite superior to letters and science. What could
they not, if only they would ?
94 ENGLISH TKAITS.
[CHAP
CHAPTEK VIL
TRUTH.
THE Teutonic tribes have a national singleness of heart
which contrasts with the Latin races. The German
name has a proverbial significance of sincerity and
honest meaning. The arts bear testimony to it. The
faces of clergy and laity in old sculptures and illumi-
nated missals are charged with earnest belief. Add
to this hereditary rectitude, the punctuality and pre-
cise dealing which commerce creates, and you have
the English truth and credit The government
strictly performs its engagements. The subjects do
not understand trifling on its part. When any breach
of promise occurred, in the old days of prerogative, it
was resented by the people as an intolerable grievance.
And, in modern times, any slipperiness in the govern-
ment in political faith, or any repudiation or crooked-
ness in matters of finance, would bring the whole
nation to a committee of inquiry and reform. Private
men keep their promises, never so trivial Down
goes the flying word on the tablets, and is indelible
as Domesday Book.
Their practical power rests on their national sin-
VIL] TRUTH. 95
cerity. Veracity derives from instinct, and marks
superiority in organisation. Nature has endowed
some animals with cunning, as a compensation for
strength withheld ; but it has provoked the malice of
all others, as if avengers of public wrong. In the
nobler kinds, where strength could be afforded, her
races are loyal to truth, as truth is the foundation of
the social state. Beasts that make no truce with
man, do not break faith with each other. J Tis said,
that the wolf, who makes a cache of his prey, and
brings his fellows with him to the spot, if, on digging,
it is not found, is instantly and unresistingly torn in
pieces. English veracity seems to result on a sounder
animal structure, as if they could afford it. They
are blunt in saying what they think, sparing of
promises, and they require plaindealing of others.
We will not have to do with a man in a mask. Let
us know the truth. Draw a straight line, hit whom
and where it will. Alfred, whom the affection of the
nation makes the type of their race, is called by
a writer at the Norman Conquest the truth- speaker ;
Alueredus veridicfus. Geoffrey of Monmouth says of
King Aurelius, uncle of Arthur, that " above all things
he hated a lie." The Northman Guttorm said to
King Olaf, "it is royal work to fulfil royal words."
The mottoes of their families are monitory proverbs,
as Fare fac, Say, do, of the Fairfaxes ; Say and seal,
of the house of Fiennes ; Tero nil venus, of the De
Veres. To be king of their word is their pride.
When they unmask cant, they say, "the English of
this is/' etc. ; and to give the lie is the extreme insult
96 ENGLISH TRAITS. ICHAP.
The phrase of the lowest of the people is " honour-
bright," and their vulgar praise, "his word is as good
as his bond." They hate shuffling and equivocation,
and the cause is damaged in the public opinion on
which any paltering can be fixed. Even Lord Chester-
field, with his French breeding, when he came to define
a gentleman, declared that truth made his distinction ;
and nothing ever spoken by him would find so hearty
a suffrage from his nation. The Duke of Wellington,
who had the best right to say so, advises the French
General Kellermann, that he may rely on the parole
of an English officer. The English, of all classes, value
themselves on this trait, as distinguishing them from
the French, who, in the popular belief, are more polite
than true. An Englishman understates, avoids the
superlative, checks himself in compliments, alleging
that in the French language one cannot speak with-
out lying.
They love reality in wealth, power, hospitality,
and do not easily learn to make a show, and take the
world as it goes. They are not fond of ornaments,
and if they wear them, they must be gems. They
read gladly in old Fuller, that a lady, in the reign of
Elizabeth, "would have as patiently digested a lie,
as the wearing of false stones or pendants of counter-
feit pearl" They have the earth-hunger, or prefer-
ence for property in land, which is said to mark the
Teutonic nations. They build of stone : public and
private buildings are massive and durable. In com-
paring their ships, houses, and public offices with the
American, it is commonly said that they spend a
vn.] TRUTH. 97
pound, where we spend a dollar. Plain rich clothes,
plain rich equipage, plain rich finish throughout their
house and belongings, mark the English truth.
They confide in each other, English believes in
English. The French feel the superiority of this
probity. The Englishman is not springing a trap for
his admiration, but is honestly minding his business.
The Frenchman is vain. Madame de Stael says that
the English irritated Napoleon, mainly, because they
have found out how to unite success with honesty.
She was not aware how wide an application her foreign
readers would give to the remark. Wellington dis-
covered the ruin of Bonaparte's affairs by his own
probity. He augured ill of the empire, as soon as he
saw that it was mendacious, and lived by war. If
war do not bring in its sequel new trade, better agricul-
ture and manufactures, but only games, fireworks, and
spectacles, no prosperity could support it much
less, a nation decimated for conscripts, and out of
pocket, like France. So he drudged for years on
his military works at Lisbon, and from this base at
last extended his gigantic lines to Waterloo, believing
in his countrymen and their syllogisms above all the
rhodomontade of Europe.
At a St. G-eorge's festival, in Montreal, where I
happened to be a guest, since my return home, I
observed that the chairman complimented his com-
patriots, by saying, "they confided that wherever
they met an Englishman, they found a man who
would speak the truth." And one cannot think this
festival fruitless, if, all over the world, on the 23d of
VOL. IV. H
98 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
April, wherever two or three English are found, they
meet to encourage each other in the nationality of
veracity.
In the power of saying rude truth, sometimes in
the lion's mouth, no men surpass them. On the
king's birthday, when each bishop was expected to
offer the king a purse of gold, Latimer gave Henry
VIII. a copy of the Vulgate, with a mark at the
passage, "Whoremongers and adulterers G-od will
judge;" and they so honour stoutness in each other
that the king passed it over. They are tenacious of
their belief, and cannot easily change their opinions
to suit the hour. They are like ships with too much
head on to come quickly about, nor will prosperity or
even adversity be allowed to shake their habitual
view of conduct. Whilst I was in London, M. Guizot
arrived there on his escape from Paris, in February
1848. Many private friends called on him. His
name was immediately proposed as an honorary
member of the Athenaeum. M. G-uizot was black-
balled. Certainly, they knew the distinction of his
name. But the Englishman is not fickle. He had
really made up his mind, now for years, as he read
his newspaper, to hate and despise M. Guizot ; and
the altered position of the man as an illustrious exile,
and a guest in the country, makes no difference to
him, as it would instantly to an American.
They require the same adherence, thorough con-
viction, and reality in public men. It is the want of
character which makes the low reputation of the Irish
members. "See them/' they said, "one hundred
vii.] TRUTH. 99
and twenty-seven, all voting like sheep, never propos-
ing anything, and all but four voting the income tax,"
which was an ill-judged concession of the Government,
relieving Irish property from the burdens charged on
English.
They have a horror of adventurers in or out of
Parliament. The ruling passion of Englishmen, in
these days, is a terror of humbug. In the same
proportion, they value honesty, stoutness, and adher-
ence to your own. They like a man committed to
his objects. They hate the French, as frivolous;
they hate the Irish, as aimless; they hate the Ger-
mans, as professors. In February 1848, they said,
Look, the French king and his party fell for want of
a shot ; they had not conscience to shoot, so entirely
was the pith and heart of monarchy eaten out.
They attack their own politicians every day, on
the same grounds, as adventurers. They love stout-
ness in standing for your right, in declining money
or promotion that costs any concession. The barrister
refuses the silk gown of Queen's Counsel if his junior
have it one day earlier. Lord Oollingwood would
not accept his medal for victory on 14th February
1797, if he did not receive one for victory on 1st June
1794; and the long-withholden medal was accorded.
"When Castlereagh dissuaded Lord Wellington from
going to the king's levee until the unpopular Ointra
business had been explained, he replied, "You furnish
me a reason for going. I will go to this, or I will
never go to a king's levee." The radical mob at
Oxford cried after the tory Lord Eldon, " There's old
100 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
Eldon; cheer him; he never ratted." They have
given the parliamentary nickname of Trimmers to the
timeservers, whom English character does not love. 1
They are very liable in their politics to extraordi-
nary delusions, thus, to believe what stands recorded
in the gravest books, that the movement of 10th April
1848 was urged or assisted by foreigners ; which, to
be sure, is paralleled by the democratic whimsy in this
country, which I have noticed to be shared by men
sane on other points, that the English * are at the
bottom of the agitation of slavery in American poli-
tics : and then, again, to the French popular legends
on the subject of perfidious Albion. But suspicion will
make fools of nations as of citizens.
A slow temperament makes them less rapid and
ready than other countrymen, and has given occasion
to the observation, that English wit comes after-
wards, which the French denote as esprit d'escalier.
This dulness makes their attachment to home, and
their adherence in all foreign countries to home
habits. The Englishman who visits Mount Etna will
carry his tea-kettle to the top. The old Italian author
of the "Belation of England" (in 1500), says, "1
1 It is an unlucky moment to remember these sparkles of
solitary virtue in the face of the honours lately paid in England
to the Emperor Louis Napoleon. I am sure that no English-
man whom I had the happiness to know, consented, when the
aristocracy and the commons of London cringed like a Neapo-
litan rabble "before a successful thief. Buthow to resist one
step, though odious, in a linked series of state necessities ?-
Governments must always learn too late, that the use of dis-
honest agents is as ruinous for nations as for single men.
mj TRUTH. 101
!tavi It on the Iwt information* that, when tha war
IR fwitjfilly ruling mont fnriotiHly, they will wk for
good titittf^ stud all their nther comforts, without
thinking what hiiriii mi#ht befall them," Then thei?
nyefl wetu tn Iwi net sit tliii bottom of n tunnel, and
they afllitii the otin wuill fart tlwy kuow t wltli the
fiiltli In th*i wntifi lliiii, nothing lHixiHtK* Ami,
tbir i>wn 1*li^f in giiiiiifiw Is prfi*ftt 1 they nwlily
filial f rhtt* wlun the U< whiter ||rttig l<igi U)
t> limffl >f in Kii^ItinI, a man ilajMwin**! ,100 in n
itlil km in th Uuhliit llsiitk, und f]if$n
in tin 1 tmwwjwpt*r to nil ; oissiu*i!alL-4^ inp
iind ftt-hon*, that whK*vnr could tll him the nutnlmr
of hi tiot^i Iitrtiltl hav t* tlw mnt'y. Il li,t It lin
tlwrw wx months tlw nw|m|*,r* now and thi*n, at
tiw iiwliiitri^ tliitti!tttiii|4 tilt* ittiftifiim i^F llta nt1f?pti ;
font timw c<niitl vr tll him ; nd he mticl, ** Now let
mt*, twvi*r lw IwttherHl iiwrr with tliw proven Ha*"
ll In trtli! f ii jjoud Kir <*I(*hiH ^*^" IMI Iwiifil a
by itutifi'4^ jind iniula | hin mind ; thiw tli
ritiitii4 fur tlttt other *<idn tttkitt^ thrir turn tt peak t
hii foiititl liiftiA4f o tuit^ttled ami fWfitt(l, that lie
rvr!;uin***i **Hi* Ju*lp m* l*i! ! 1 will never Hit to
<wltlaiii a^iilii,** Any tntnilw erf diiliglitfiil exampU^
l thU Kii^!Ir4t stolidity e tin* of Kuropa
1 knw n v wry wurtiiy ittmti - a ttmgi*tmto, I tolieve
li in flip l4iwtt of Pwfoy, wli wifiit fa* the
opt^m, t<> ww Mnlthmn, In owe ncnne, the
ww t nt^li 11 niiwttl fttitlgi*, Mr. 11
iititl mildly ytt ilmily *mllod tho uttanUon of tlie
102 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
audience and the performers to the fact, that, in his
judgment, the bridge was unsafe ! This English
stolidity contrasts with French wit and tact. The
French, it is commonly said, have greatly more influ-
ence in Europe than the English. What influence
the English have is hy brute force of wealth and
power; that of the French by affinity and talent.
The Italian is subtle, the Spaniard treacherous ;
tortures, it was said, could never wrest from an
Egyptian the confession of a secret. None of these
traits belong to the Englishman. His choler and
conceit force everything out. Defoe, who knew his
countrymen well, says of them,
*' In close intrigue, their faculty's but weak,
For generally whate'er tliey know, they speak,
And often their own counsels undermine
By mere infirmity without design ;
From whence, the learned say, it doth proceed,
That English treasons never can succeed ;
For they're so open-hearted, you may know
Their own most secret thoughts, and others' too, 31
vni.] CHARACTER 103
CHAPTER YIIL
CHARACTEB.
THE English race are reputed morose. I do not know
that they have sadder brows than their neighbours of
northern climates. They are sad by comparison with
the singing and dancing nations : not sadder, but slow
and staid, as finding their joys at home. They, too,
believe that where there is no enjoyment of life,
there can be no vigour and art in speech or thought ;
that your merry heart goes all the way, your sad one
tires in a mile. This trait of gloom has been fixed
on them by French travellers, who, from Froissart,
Voltaire, Le Sage, Mirabeau, down to the lively
journalists of the feuilletons, have spent their wit on
the solemnity of their neighbours. The French say,
gay conversation is unknown in their island. The
Englishman finds no relief from reflection, except in
reflection. When he wishes for amusement, he goes
to work. His hilarity is like an attack of fever.
Religion, the theatre, and the reading the books of
his country, all feed and increase his natural melan-
choly. The police does not interfere with public
diversions. It thinks itself bound in duty to respect
104 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
the pleasures and rare gaiety of this inconsolable
nation ; and their well-known courage is entirely
attributable to their disgust of life.
I suppose " their gravity of demeanour and their
few words have obtained this reputation. As com-
pared with the Americans, I think them cheerful and
contented. Young people, in this country, are much
more prone to melancholy. The English have a mild
aspect, and a ringing cheerful voice. They are large-
natured, and not so easily amused as the southerners,
and are among them as grown people among children,
requiring war, or trade, or engineering, or science,
instead of frivolous games. They are proud and
private, and, even if disposed to recreation, will avoid
an open garden. They sported sadly ] Us $'amuaient
tristement, selon la coutume de lew pays, said Froissart ;
and, I suppose, never nation built their party-walls
so thick, or their garden-fences so high. Meat and
wine produce no effect on them : they are just as cold,
quiet, and composed, at the end, as at the beginning
of dinner.
The reputation of taciturnity they have enjoyed
for six or seven hundred years ; and a kind of pride
in bad public speaking is noted in the House of
Commons, as if they were willing to show that they
did not live by their tongues, or thought they spoke
well enough if they had the tone of gentlemen. In
mixed company they shut their mouths. A York-
shire millowner told me he had ridden more than
once all the way from London to Leeds, in the first-
class carriage, with the same persons, and no word
mi.] CHARACTER. 10i5;
exchanged. The club-houses were established to\
cultivate social habits, and it is rare that more than "
two eat together, and oftenest one eats alone. "Was
it then a stroke of humour in the serious Swedenborg,
or was it only his pitiless logic, that made him shut
up the English souls in a heaven by themselves 1
They are contradictorily described as sour, splen-
etic, and stubborn, and as mild, sweet, and sensible.
The truth is, they have great range and variety of
character. Commerce sends abroad multitudes of
different classes. The choleric Welshman, the fervid
Scot, the bilious resident in the East or West Indies,
are wide of the perfect behaviour of the educated and
dignified man of family, So is the burly farmer ; so
is the country 'squire, with his narrow and violent
life. In every inn is the Commercial-Room, in which
" travellers," or bagmen who carry patterns, and solicit
orders, for the manufacturers, are wont to be enter-
tained. It easily happens that this class should char-
acterise England to the foreigner, who meets them
on the road, and at every public house, whilst the
gentry avoid the taverns, or seclude themselves whilst
in them.
But these classes are the right English stock, and
may fairly show the national qualities, before yet art
and education have dealt with them. They are good
lovers, good haters, slow but obstinate admirers, and,
in all things, very much steeped in their temperament,
like men hardly awaked from deep sleep, which they
enjoy. Their habits and instincts cleave to nature.
They are of the earth, earthy ; and of the sea, as the
106 ENGLISH TEAITS. [CHAP.
sea-kinds, attached to it for what it yields them, and
not from any sentiment. They are full of coarse
strength, rude exercise, butcher's meat, and sound
sleep ; and suspect any poetic insinuation or any hint
for the conduct of life which reflects on this animal
existence, as if somebody were fumbling at the umbili-
cal cord and might stop their supplies. They doubt
a man's sound judgment if he does not eat with
appetite, and shake their heads if he is particularly
chaste. Take them as they come, you shall find in
the common people a surly indifference, sometimes
gruffness and ill temper \ and, in minds of more
power, magazines of inexhaustible war, challenging
" The ruggedest hour that time and spite dare bring
To frown upon the enraged Northumberland."
They are headstrong believers and defenders of their
opinion, and not less resolute in maintaining their
whim and perversity. Hezekiah Woodward wrote a
book against the Lord's Prayer. And one can believe
that Burton, the Anatomist of Melancholy, having
predicted from the stars the hour of his death, slipped
the knot himself round his own neck not to falsify
his horoscope.
Their looks bespeak an invincible stoutness : they
have extreme difficulty to run away, and will die
game. Wellington said of the young coxcombs of
the Life -Guards delicately brought up, "but the
puppies fight well;" and Nelson said of his sailors,
"they really mind shot no more than peas." Of
absolute stoutness no nation has more or better
examples. They are good at storming redoubts, at
VOL] CHARACTER. 107
boarding frigates, at dying in the last ditch, or any
desperate service which has daylight and honour in
it; but not, 1 think, at enduring the rack, or any
passive obedience, like jumping off a castlo-roof at
the word of a cmr. Being both vascular and highly
organised, BO an to be very sensible of pain; and in-
tellectual, HO as to see reason and glory in a matter,
Of that constitutional force, which yields the
supplies of the clay, they have the more than enough,
the OXCOHS which creates courage on fortitude, genius
in poetry, invention in mechanics, imtiorpriso in trade,
magnificence in wealth, splendour in ceremonies,
petulance and projects in youth. The yoimg mn
havo a rude health which runs into peccant humours.
They drink brandy like water, cannot expend their
(junntilu's of waste strength on riding, hunting, swim-
ming, and fencing ; and run into absurd frolics with
the gravity of the Kumenides, They stoutly carry
into every nook and comer of the earth their turbulent
ttmso; leaving no lie uncontradicted ; no pretension
unaxankinod. They chow hasheesh ; cut themselves
with poiHonml crcascw ; awing their hammock in the
bcmgliH of the Bohon Upas ; taste every poison ; buy
every socrot ; at Naples they put St Januarius's blood
in an ulombic ; they saw a hole into the head of the
** winking Virgin," to know why aho winks ,* measure
with an English footndo every coll of the Inquisition,
ovory Turkish eaaha, every Holy of holies ; translate
and send to Itentloy the arcanum bribed and bullied
away from shuddering Brahmins ; and measure their
own utrongth by the terror they caune. These tra-
108 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
vellers are of every class, the best and the worst; and it
may easily happen that those of rudest behaviour arc
taken notice of and remembered. The Saxon melan-
choly in the vulgar rich and poor appears as gushes
of ill-humour which every check exasperates into
sarcasm and vituperation. There are multitudes of
rude young English who have the solf-sufficiency and
bluntness of their nation, and who, with their disdain
of the rest of mankind, and with this indigestion and
choler, have made the English traveller a proverb for
uncomfortable and offensive manners. It was no bad
description of the Briton gcnerieally, what was said
two hundred years ago of one particular Oxford
scholar : " He was a very bold man, uttered anything
that came into his mind, not only among his com-
panions, but in public coffee-houses, and would often
speak his mind of particular persons then accidentally
present, without examining the company he wan in ;
for which he was often reprimanded, and several
times threatened to bo kicked and beaten."
The common Englishman is prone to forget A
cardinal article in the bill of social rights, that every
man has a right to his own ears. No man can claim
to usurp more than a few cubic feet of tho audibilities
of a public room, or to put upon tho company with
the loud statement of his crotchets or personal! tics.
But it is in the deep traits of race that the fortunes
of nations are written, and however derived, whether
a happier tribe or mixture of tribes, tho air, or what
circumstance, that mixed for them tho golden moan
of temperament, here exists the best stock in tho
vin.] CHARACTER. 109
world, I >road fronted, broad-bottomed, host for depth,
range, and equability, men of aplomb and reserves,
great range and many moods, strong instincts, yet apt
for culture; war dans an well as clerks; carls and
tradesmen ; wise minority, as well aa foolish majority;
abysmal temperament, hiding wells of wrath, and
glooms on which no sunshine settles ; alternated with
a common BOHKO and humanity which hold them fast
to every piece of cheerful duty ; making this tempera-
ment a Hca to which all storms are superficial ; a race
to which their fortunon How, as if they alone had the
elastic orgamnation at once fine and robust enough
for dominion ; aa if the burly inexpressive, new mute
and contumacious now fierce and sharp-tongued
dragon, which once made the island light with his
fitiry breath, had bequeathed his ferocity to his con-
queror. They hide virtues under vices, or tho semb-
lance of them. It is the miwhapen hairy Scandinavian
troll again, who lifts the cart out of tho mire, or
** thrHhe-H tho corn that ton day-labourers could not
end," but it IB done in the dark, and with muttered
maUulictaona, lie is a churl with a soft place in his
heart, whoBti pewh is a brash of bitter waters, but
who lovcfi to lielp you at a pinch* lie says no, and
ttorvoH you, and your thanks disgust him. Hero was
lately a cms* Drained miser, odd and ugly, resembling
in countotmnce the portrait of Punch with the laugh
left out ; rich by his own industry \ sulking in a lonely
UOUHO ; who never gave a dinner to any man, and
disdained all courted e ; yet an true a worshipper of
Iwauty in form and colour m over existed, and pro-
110 ENGLISH TJRAITS. [CHAP.
fusely pouring over the cold mind of his countrymen
creations of grace and truth, removing the reproach
of sterility from English art, catching from their
savage climate every fine hint, and importing into
their galleries every tint and trait of sunnier cities
and skies ; making an era in painting ; and, when he
saw that the splendour of one of his pictures in the
Exhibition dimmed his rival's that hung next it,
secretly took a brush and blackened his own.
They do not wear their heart in their sleeve for
daws to peck at. They have that phlegm or staidness,
which it is a compliment to disturb. " Great men," said
Aristotle, "are always of a nature originally melan-
choly." 'Tis the habit of a mind which attaches to
abstractions with a passion which gives vast results.
They dare to displease, they do not speak to expecta-
tion. They like the sayers of No, better than tlio wiyers
of Yes. Each of them has an opinion which he fools
it becomes him to express all the more that it differs
from yours. They are meditating opposition. This
gravity is inseparable from minds of groat resources.
There is an English hero superior to the French,
the German, the Italian, or the Greek When ho is
brought to the strife with fate, he sacrifices a richer
material possession, and on more purely metaphysical
grounds. He is there with his own consent, face to
face with fortune, which he defies. On deliberate
choice, and from grounds of character, he has elected
his part to live and die for, and dies with grandeur.
This race has added now elements to humanity, and
has a deeper root in the world,
vin.] CHARACTER, 111
They have great range of scale, from ferocity to
exquisite refinement. With larger scale, they have
groat retrieving power. After running each tendency
to an extreme, they try another tack with equal heat.
More intellectual than other races, when they live
with other races, they do not take their language,
but bestow their own. They subsidise other nations,
and arc not subsidised. They proselyte, arid are not
proselyted. They assimilate other races to themselves,
and are not assimilated. The English did not calcu-
late the conquest of the Indies. It fell to their char-
actor. Ko they administer, in different parts of the
world, the codes of every empire and race j in Canada,
old French law ; in the Mauritius, the Code Napoleon;
in the West Indies, the edicts of the Spanish Cortes ;
in the East Indies, the Lawn of Menu ; in the Isle of
Man, of the Scandinavian Thing ; at the Capo of Good
Hopn, of the old Netherlands; and in the Ionian
IwlandH, the Pandects of Justinian.
They aro vt k ,ry conscious of their advantageous "
position in history, England is the lawgiver, the
patron, the instructor, the ally. Compare tho tone
of the French and of the English press : the first
cjuorulouH, captious, sensitive about English opinion ;
the English press IB never timorous about French
opinion, but arrogant and contemptuous.
They aro testy and headstrong through an excess
of will and bias ; churlish as men sometimes please
to be who do not forgot a debt, who ask no favours,
and who will do what they like with their own.
With education and intercourse these asperities wear
112 ENGLISH TKAITS. [CHAP,
off, and leave the good will pure, If anatomy is
reformed according to national tendencies, I suppose
the spleen will hereafter be found in the Englishman,
not found in the American, and differencing the one
from the other. I anticipate "another anatomical
discovery, that this organ will bo found to be cortical
and caducous, that they are superficially morose, but
at last tender-hearted, herein differing from Komo
and the Latin nations. Nothing savage, nothing
mean, resides in the English heart. They arc subject
to panics of credulity and of rage, but the temper of
the nation, however disturbed, settles itself soon and
easily, as, in this temperate isone, the sky after what-
ever storms clears again, and serenity is its normal
condition.
A saving stupidity masks and protects their jwr-
ception as the curtain of the eagle's eye, Our swifter
Americans, when they first deal with English, pro-
nounce them stupid ; but, later, do thorn justice tw
people who wear well, or hide their strength. To
understand the power of performance that in in their
finest wits, in the patient Newton, or in the voraatilu
transcendent poets, or in the Dugdaloa, Uibborw,
Hallams, Elclons, and Peels, one should MOO how
English day-labourers hold out. High and low, thoy
are of an unctuous texture. There is an atlipocflW hi
their constitution, as if they had oil also for tlwir
mental wheels, and could perform vast amounts of
work without damaging themselves.
Even the scale of expense on which people lm\
and to which scholars and professional men conform,
rai.] CHARACTER. 113
proves the tension of their muscle, when vast numbers
are found who can each lift this enormous load. I
might even add, their daily feasts argue a savage
vigour of body.
No nation was ever so rich in able men; "gentle-
men," as Charles I. said of Straff ord, " whose abilities
might make a prince rather afraid than ashamed in
the greatest affairs of state ;" men of such temper,
that, like Baron Vere, "had one seen him returning
from a victory, he would by his silence have suspected
that he had lost the day ; and, had he beheld him in
a retreat, he would have collected him a conqueror
by the cheerfulness of his spirit." 1
The following passage from the HeimsJcringla
might almost stand as a portrait of the modern
Englishman: "Haldor was very stout and strong,
and remarkably handsome in appearances. King
Harold gave him this testimony, that he, among all
his men, cared least about doubtful circumstances,
whether they betokened danger or pleasure; for
whatever turned up, he was never in higher nor
in lower spirits, never slept less nor more on account
of them, nor ate nor drank but according to his cus-
tom. Haldor was not a man of many words, but
short in conversation, told his opinion bluntly, and
was obstinate and hard : and this could not please
the king, who had many clever people about him,
zealous in his service. Haldor remained a short time
with the king, and then came to Iceland, where he
1 Fuller. Worthies of England,
VOL. IV. 1
114 ENGLISH TKAJTS. [CHAP.
took up his abode in Hiardaholt, and dwelt in that
farm to a very advanced age." 1
The national temper, in the civil history, is not
flashy or whiffling. The slow, deep English mass
smoulders with fire, which at last sets all its borders
in flame. The wrath of London is not French wrath,
but has a long memory, and, in its hottest heat, a
register and rule.
Half their strength they put not forth. They are
capable of a sublime resolution, and if hereafter the
war of races, often predicted, and making itself a war
of opinions also (a question of despotism and liberty
coming from Eastern Europe), should menace the
English civilisation, these sea-kings may take once
again to their floating castles, and find a new home
and a second millennium of power in their colonies.
The stability of England is the security of the
modern world. If the English race were as mutable
as the French, what reliance ? But the English stand
for liberty. The conservative, money -loving, lord-
loving English, are yet liberty-loving ; and so freedom
is safe : for they have more personal force than any
other people. The nation always resist the immoral
action of their government. They think humanely
on the affairs of France, of Turkey, of Poland, of
Hungary, of Schleswig Holstein, though overborne by
the statecraft of the rulers at last.
Does the early history of each tribe show the per-
manent bias, which, though not less potent, is masked,
as the tribe spreads its activity into colonies, com-
1 Heimskringla, Laing's translation, vol. iii. p. 37.
VTII.] CHARACTER. 115
merce, codes, arts, letters 1 The early history shows
it, as the musician plays the air which he proceeds to
conceal in a tempest of variations. In Alfred, in the
Northmen, one may read the genius of the English
society, namely, that private life is the place of honour.
Glory, a career, and ambition, words familiar to the
longitude of Paris, are seldom heard in English speech.
Nelson wrote from their hearts his homely telegraph,
"England expects every man to do his duty."
For actual service, for the dignity of a profession,
or to appease diseased or inflamed talent, the army
and navy may be entered (the worst boys doing well
in the navy) ; and the civil service, in departments
where serious official work is done ; and they hold in
esteem the barrister engaged in the severer studies
of the law. But the calm, sound, and most British
Briton shrinks from public life, as charlatanism, and
respects an economy founded on agriculture, coal-
mines, manufactures, or trade, which secures an inde-
pendence through the creation of real values.
They wish neither to command nor obey, but to be
kings in their own houses. They are intellectual and
deeply enjoy literature; they like well to have the
world served up to them in books, maps, models, and
every mode of exact information, and, though not
creators in art, they value its refinement. They are
ready for leisure, can direct and fill their own day, nor
need so much as others the constraint of a necessity.
But the history of the nation discloses, at every turn,
this original predilection for private independence,
and, however this inclination may have been dis
116 ENGLISH TRAITS. [OHAT>,
fcurbed by the bribes with which their vast colonial
power has warped men out of orbit, the inclination
endures, and forms and reforms the laws, letters,
manners, and occupations. They choose that welfare
which is compatible with the commonwealth, knowing
that such alone is stable; as wise merchants prefer
investments in the three per cents.
IX.] COCKAYNE. U7
CHAPTEE IX.
COCKAYNE.
THE English are a nation of humorists. Individual
right is pushed to the uttermost bound compatible
with public order. Property is so perfect, that it
seems the craft of that race, and not to exist else-
where. The king cannot step on an acre which the
peasant refuses to sell. A testator endows a dog or
a rookery, and Europe cannot interfere with his
absurdity. Every individual has his particular way
of living, which he pushes to folly, and the decided
sympathy of his compatriots is engaged to back up
Mr. Crump's whim by statutes, and chancellors, and
horse-guards. There is no freak so ridiculous but
some Englishman has attempted to immortalise by
money and law. British citizenship is as omnipotent
as Eoman was. Mr. Cockayne is very sensible of this.
The pursy man means by freedom the right to do as
he pleases, and does wrong in order to feel his freedom,
and makes a conscience of persisting in it.
He is intensely patriotic, for his country is so
small. His confidence in the power and performance
of his nation makes him provokingly incurious about
118 ENGLISH TEAITS. [CHAP.
other nations. He dislikes foreigners. Swedenborg,
who lived much in England, notes " the similitude of
minds among the English, in consequence of which
they contract familiarity with friends who are of that
nation, and seldom with others : and they regard
foreigners, as one looking through a telescope from
the top of a palace regards those who dwell or wander
about out of the city." A much older traveller, the
Venetian who wrote the "Relation of England," l in
1500, says : " The English are great lovers of them-
selves, and of every thing belonging to them. They
think that there are no other men than themselves,
and no other world but England ; and, whenever they
see a handsome foreigner, they say that he looks like
an Englishman, and it is a great pity he should not
be an Englishman; and whenever they partake of
any delicacy with a foreigner, they ask him whether
such a thing is made in his country." When he adds
epithets of praise, his climax is "so English;" and
when he wishes to pay you the highest compliment,
he says, I should not know you from an Englishman.
France is, by its natural contrast, a kind of black-
board on which English character draws its own traits
in chalk. This arrogance habitually exhibits itself
in allusions to the French. I suppose that all men
of English blood in America, Europe, or Asia, have a
secret, feeling of joy that they are not French natives.
Mr. Coleridge is said to have given public thanks to
God, at the close of a lecture, that he had defended
him from being able to utter a single sentence in the
1 Printed by the Camdea Society.
ix.] COCKAYNE. 119
French language. I have found that Englishmen
have such a good opinion of England, that the ordi-
nary phrases, in all good society, of postponing or dis-
paraging one's own things in talking with a stranger,
are seriously mistaken by them for an insuppressible
homage to the merits of their nation j and the New
Yorker or Pennsylvanian who modestly laments the
disadvantage of a new country, log-huts, and savages,
is surprised by the instant and unfeigned commisera-
tion of the whole company, who plainly account all
the world out of England a heap of rubbish.
The same insular limitation pinches his foreign
politics. He sticks to his traditions and usages, and,
so help him God I he will force his island by-laws
down the throat of great countries, like India, China,
Canada, Australia, and not only so, but impose Wap-
ping on the Congress of Vienna, and trample down
all nationalities with his taxed boots. Lord Chatham
goes for liberty, and no taxation without representa-
tion j for that is British law ; but not a hobnail shall
they dare make in America, but buy their nails in
England, for that also is British law ; and the fact
that British commerce was to be recreated by the
independence of America, took them all by surprise.
In short, I am afraid that English nature is so
rank and aggressive as to be a little incompatible
with every other. The world is not wide enough for
two.
But, beyond this nationality, it must be admitted
the island offers a daily worship to the old Norse god
Brage, celebrated among our Scandinavian forefathers
120 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
for his eloquence and majestic air. The English have
a steady courage, that fits them for great attempts
and endurance : they have also a petty courage,
through which every man delights in showing himself
for what he is, and in doing what he can ; so that, in
all companies, each of them has too good an opinion
of himself to imitate anybody. He hides no defect
of his form, features, dress, connection, or birthplace,
for he thinks every circumstance belonging to him
comes recommended to you. If one of them have a
bald, or a rod, or a green head, or bow legs, or a scar,
or mark, or a paunch, or a squeaking or a raven voice,
ho has persuaded himself that there is something
modish and becoming in it, and that it sits well on
him.
But nature makes nothing in vain, and this little
superfluity of self-regard in the English brain is one
of the secrets of their power and history. For it sets
every man on being and doing what ho really is and
can. It takes away a dodging, skulking, secondary
air, and encourages a frank and manly bearing, so
that each man makes the most of himself, and loses
no opportunity for want of pushing. A man's per-
Honal defects will commonly have with the rest of the
world precisely that importance which they have to
himself. If he makes light of them, so will other
men. Wo all find in those a convenient meter of
character, since a little man would bo ruined by the
vexation, I remember a shrewd politician, in one of
our western cities, told mo, "that ho had known
several successful statesmen made by their foible,"
ix, J COCKAYNE. 121
And another, an ex- governor of Illinois, said to me,*
" If a man knew anything, he would sit in a corner
and be modest ; but he is such an ignorant peacock,
that he goes bustling up and down, and hits on extra-
ordinary discoveries."
There is also this benefit in brag, that the
speaker is unconsciously expressing his own ideal.
Humour him by all means, draw it all out, and hold
him to it, Their culture generally enables the tra-
velled English to avoid any ridiculous extremes of
this self-pleasing, and to give it an agreeable air.
Then the natural disposition is fostered by the respect
which they find entertained in the world for English
ability. It was said of Louis XIY, that his gait and
air were becoming enough in so great a monarch, yet
would have been ridiculous in another man ; so the
prestige of the English name warrants a certain con-
fident bearing, which a Frenchman or Belgian could
not carry. At all events, they feel themselves at
liberty to assume the most extraordinary tone on the
subject of English merits.
An English lady on the Rhine hearing a German
speaking of her party as foreigners, exclaimed, "No,
we are not foreigners : we are English ; it is you that
are foreigners.' 3 They tell you daily, in London,
the story of the Frenchman and Englishman who
quarrelled. Both were unwilling to fight, but their
companions put them up to it ; at last, it was agreed
that they should fight alone, in the dark, and with
pistols : the candles were put out, and the English-
man, to make sure not to hit anybody, fired up the
122 ENGLISH TBAITS. [CHAP.
chimney, and brought down the Frenchman. They
hare no curiosity about foreigners, and answer any
information you may volunteer with " Oh, oh !" until
the informant makes up his mind that they shall die
in their ignorance, for any help he will offer. There
are really no limits to this conceit, though brighter
men among them make painful efforts to be candid.
The habit of brag runs through all classes, from
the Times newspaper through politicians and poets,
through Wordsworth, Oarlyle, Mill, and Sydney
Smith, down to the boys of Eton. In the gravest
treatise on political economy, in a philosophical essay,
in books of science, one is surprised by the most
innocent exhibition of unflinching nationality. In a
tract on Corn, a most amiable and accomplished
gentleman writes thus : " Though Britain, according
to Bishop Berkeley's idea, were surrounded by a wall
of brass ten thousand cubits in height, still she would
as far excel the rest of the globe in riches, as she now
does, both in this secondary quality, and in the more
important ones of freedom, virtue, and science." l
The English dislike the American structure of
society, whilst yet trade, mills, public education and
chartism are doing what they can to create in England
the same social condition. America is the paradise
of the economists ; is the favourable exception invari-
ably quoted to the rules of ruin ; but when he speaks
directly of the Americans, the islander forgets his
philosophy, and remembers his disparaging anecdotes.
But this childish patriotism costs something, like
1 "William Spence.
ix.] COCKAYNE. 123
all narrowness. The English sway of their colonies
has no root of kindness. They govern by their arts
and ability; they are more just than kind; and,
whenever an abatement of their power is felt, they
have not conciliated the affection on which to rely.
Coarse local distinctions, as those of nation, pro-
vince, or town, are useful in the absence of real ones ;
but we must not insist on these accidental lines.
Individual traits are always triumphing over national
ones. There is no fence in metaphysics discriminat-
ing Greek, or English, or Spanish science. -ZEsop
and Montaigne, Cervantes and Saadi, are men of the
world ; and to wave our own flag at the dinner-table
or in the University, is to carry the boisterous dulness
of a fire-club into a polite circle. Nature and destiny
are always on the watch for our follies. Nature trips
us up when we strut ; and there are curious examples
in history on this very point of national pride.
George of Cappadocia, born at Epiphania in Cilicia,
was a low parasite, who got a lucrative contract to
supply the army with bacon. A rogue and informer,
he got rich, and was forced to run from justice. He
saved his money, embraced Arianism, collected a
library, and got promoted by a faction to the episcopal
throne of Alexandria. When Julian came, A.D. 361,
George was dragged to prison ; the prison was burst
open by the mob, and George was lynched, as he
deserved. And this precious knave became, in good
time, Saint George of England, patron of chivalry, ,
emblem of victory and civility, and the pride of the
best blood of the modern world.
124 ENGLISH TKAITS. [CHAP.
Strange, that the solid truth-speaking Briton should
derive from an impostor. Strange, that the New
World should have no better luck, that broad
America must wear the name of a thief, Amerigo
Vespucci, the pickle-dealer at Seville, who went out,
in 1499, a subaltern with Hojeda, and whose highest
naval rank was boatswain's mate in an expedition that
never sailed, managed in this lying world to supplant
Columbus, and baptize half the earth with his own dis-
honest name. Thus nobody can throw stones. We
are equally badly off in our founders ; and the false
pickle-dealer is an offset to the false bacon-seller.
WEALTH. 125
CHAPTER X.
WEALTH.
THERE is no country in which so absolute a homage
is paid to wealth. In America, there is a touch of
shame when a man exhibits the evidences of large
property, as if, after all, it needed apology. But the
Englishman has pure pride in his wealth, and esteems
it a final certificate, A coarse logic rules throughout
all English souls; if you have merit, can you not
show it by your good clothes, and coach, and horses 1
How can a man be a gentleman without a pipe of
wine ? Haydon says, " there is a fierce resolution to
make every man live according to the moans he
possesses." There is a mixture of religion in it.
They are under the Jewish law, and read with sonor-
ous emphasis that their days shall be long in the land,
they shall have sons and daughters, flocks and herds,
wine and oil. In exact proportion is the reproach
of poverty. They do not wish to be represented
except by opulent men. An Englishman who has
lost his fortune, is said to have died of a broken heart.
The last term of insult is, "a beggar." Nelson said,
" the want of fortune is a crime which I can never
126 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
get over." Sydney Smith said, "poverty is infamous
in England." And one of their recent writers speaks,
in reference to a private and scholastic life, of "the
grave moral deterioration which follows an empty
exchequer." You shall find this sentiment, if not so
frankly put, yet deeply implied, in the novels and
romances of the present century, and not only in these,
but in biography, and in the votes of public assemblies,
in the tone of the preaching, and in the table-talk.
I was lately turning over Wood's Athence Oxon-
ienses, and looking naturally for another standard in a
chronicle of the scholars of Oxford for two hundred
years. But I found the two disgraces in that, as in
most English books, are, first, disloyalty to Church
and State, and, second, to be born poor, or to come
to poverty, A natural fruit of England is the brutal
political economy. Malthus finds no cover laid at
nature's table for the labourer's son. In 1809, the
majority in Parliament expressed itself by the lan-
guage of Mr. Fuller in the House of Commons, " If
you do not like the country, damn you, you can leave
it." When Sir S. Romilly proposed his bill forbid-
ding parish officers to bind children apprentices at a
greater distance than forty miles from their home,
Peel opposed, and Mr. Wortley said, "though, in the
higher ranks, to cultivate family affections was a good
thing, 'twas not so among the lower orders. Better
take them away from those who might deprave them,
And it was highly injurious to trade to stop binding
to manufacturers, as it must raise the prico of labour
arid of manufactured goods."
x.] WEALTH. 127
The respect for truth of facts in England is
equalled only by the respect for wealth. It is at once
the pride of art of the Saxon, as he is a wealth-maker,
and his passion for independence. The Englishman
believes that every man must take care of himself,
and has himself to thank, if he do not mend his con-
dition. To pay their debts is their national point of
honour. From the Exchequer and the East India
House to the huckster's shop, everything prospers,
because it is solvent. The British armies are solvent,
and pay for what they take. The British empire is
solvent; for, in spite of the huge national debt, the
valuation mounts. During the war from 1789 to
1815, whilst they complained that they were taxed
within an inch of their lives, and, by dint of enor-
mous taxes, were subsidising all the Continent against
France, the English were growing rich every year
faster than any people ever grew before. It is their
maxim that the weight of taxes must be calculated
not by what is taken but by what is left. Solvency
is in the ideas and mechanism of an Englishman.
The Crystal Palace is not considered honest until it
pays ; no matter how much convenience, beauty, or
eclat, it must bo soli-supporting. They are contented
with slower steamers, as long as they know that
swifter boats lose money. They proceed logically
by the double method of labour and thrift. Every
household exhibits an exact economy, and nothing of
that uncalculatod headlong expenditure which families
use in America, If they cannot pay, they do not
buy ; for they have no presumption of better fortunes
128 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP,
next year, as our people have ; and they say without
shame, I cannot afford it. Gentlemen do not hesitate
to ride in the second-class cars, or in the second
cabin. An economist, or a man who can proportion
his means and his ambition, or bring the year round
with expenditure which expresses his character, with-
out embarrassing one day of his future, is already a
master of life, and a freeman. Lord Burleigh writes
to his son, "that one ought never to devote more
than two-thirds of his income to the ordinary expenses
of life, since the extraordinary will be certain to
absorb the other third."
The ambition to create value evokes every kind of
ability, government becomes a manufacturing corpora-
tion, and every house a mill. The headlong bias to
utility will let no talent lie in a napkin, if possible,
will teach spiders to weave silk stockings. An
Englishman, while he eats and drinks no more, or
not much more than another man, labours three times
as many hours in the course of a year, as any other
European; or, his life as a workman is three lives.
He works fast. Everything in England is at a quick
pace. They have reinforced their own productivity
by the creation of that marvellous machinery which
differences this age from any other age.
'Tis a curious chapter in modern history, the
growth of the machine-shop. Six hundred years ago,
Roger Bacon explained the precession of the equi-
noxes, the consequent necessity of the reform of the
calendar ; measured the length of the year ; invented
gunpowder; and announced (as if looking from his
x.] WEALTH. 129
lofty cell, over five centuries, into ours), " that
machines can be constructed to drive ships more
rapidly than a whole galley of rowers could do nor
would they need anything but a pilot to steer them.
Carriages also might be constructed to move with
an incredible speed without the aid of any animal
Finally, it would not be impossible to make machines,
which, by means of a suit of wings, should fly in the
air in the manner of birds." But the secret slept
with Bacon. The six hundred years have not yet
fulfilled his words. Two centuries ago, the sawing
of timber was done by hand ; the carriage wheels ran
on wooden axles; the land was tilled by wooden
ploughs. And it was to little purpose that they had
pit -coal, or that looms were improved, unless Watt
and Stephenson had taught them to work force-pumps
and power -looms by steam. The great strides were
all taken within the last hundred years. The life of
Sir Robert Peel, who died, the other day, the model
Englishman, very properly has, for a frontispiece, a
drawing of the spinning-jenny, which wove the web
of his fortunes. Hargreaves invented the spinning-
jenny, and died in a workhouse. Arkwright improved
the invention; and the machine dispensed with the
work of ninety-nine men : that is, one spinner could
do as much work as one hundred had done before.
The loom was improved further. But the men would
sometimes strike for wages, and combine against the
masters, and, about 1829-30, much fear was felt lest
the trade would be drawn away by these interrup-
tions, and the emigration of the spinners to Belgium
VOL, IV, g
130 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
and the United States. Iron and steel are very
obedient. Whether it were not possible to make a
spinner that would not rebel, nor mutter, nor scowl,
nor strike for wages, nor emigrate 1 At the solicita-
tion of the masters, after a mob and riot at Staley-
bridge, Mr. Roberts of Manchester undertook to
create this peaceful fellow, instead of the quarrel-
some fellow God had made. After a few trials, he
succeeded, and in 1830, procured a patent for his self-
acting mule; a creation, the delight of millowners,
and "destined," they said, "to restore order among
the industrious classes"; a machine requiring only a
child's hand to piece the broken yarns. As Ark-
wright had destroyed domestic spinning, so Roberts
destroyed the factory spinner. The power of machin-
ery in Great Britain, in mills, has been computed to
be equal to 600,000,000 men, one man being able by
the aid of steam to do the work which required two
hundred and fifty men to accomplish fifty years ago.
The production has been commensurate. England
already had this laborious race, rich soil, water, wood,
coal, iron, and favourable climate. Eight hundred
years ago commerce had made it rich, and it was
recorded, " England is the richest of all the northern
nations." The Norman historians recite, that " in
1067, William carried with him into Normandy, from
England, more gold and silver than had ever before
been seen in Gaul." But when, to this labour and
trade and these native resources was added this
goblin of steam, with his myriad arms, never tired,
working night and day everlastingly, the amassing of
X.] WEALTH. 131
property has run out of all figures. It makes the
motor of the last ninety years. The steam-pipe has
added to her population and wealth the equivalent
of four or five Englands. Forty thousand ships are
entered in Lloyd's lists. The yield of wheat has gone
on from 2,000,000 quarters in the time of the Stuarts,
to 13,000,000 in 1851 A thousand million of pounds
sterling are said to compose the floating money of
commerce. In 1848, Lord John Russell stated that
the people of this country had laid out 300,000,000
of capital in railways, in the last four years. But a
better measure than these sounding figures is the
estimate, that there is wealth enough in England to
support the entire population in idleness for one year.
The wise, versatile, all -giving machinery makes
chisels, roads, locomotives, telegraphs. Whitworth
divides a bar to a millionth of an inch. Steam twines
huge cannon into wreaths, as easily as it braids straw,
and vies with the volcanic forces which twisted the
strata. It can clothe shingle mountains with ship-
oaks, make sword-blades that will cut gun-barrels in
two. In Egypt, it can plant forests, and bring rain
after three thousand years. Already it is ruddering
the balloon, and the next war will be fought in the
air. But another machine, more potent in England
than steam, is the Bank It votes an issue of bills,
population is stimulated, and cities rise; it refuses
loans, and emigration empties the country; trade
sinks; revolutions break out; kings are dethroned.
By these new agents our social system is moulded.
By dint of steam and of money, war and commerce
132 ENGLISH TRAITS. [ OHAPi
are changed Nations have hwt their old onuiipo-
tonco ; the patriotic tio doe not hold. Nation** are
getting obsolete, wa go and live whore we will
Steam has enabled men to choouo what law they will
live under. Money ntakoft place for them. The tele-
graph IB a limp -hand that will hold tlw I'Vurin-wolf
of war. For, now that a telegraph lino nms through
Franco and Europe from London, e\ery wewwipjo it
IraiisinitH makex stronger by one thread the hand
which war will have, to cut
Tim introduction of thee elements ^IVOB new
WHouraiH to oxintiti^ pntpririnr, . A Hp{rting duke
may fancy that tho tat.B depend:* on tho HOUHO of
IionK but the wiginiH^r HM*H that every wfroke of
thcs steam-piston gmiH volutt to tJie dtike.V Iand t fllla
It with tunant H ; doubh^, |?i;iflnipf , centuple* thti
dnhe'n capital, and create* new in^H^ureH and uw
iu^HK)tie.H for thc^ e,ultur of l\\h chiidrrn, Of
it drawn the itolitlity Into the rompnifion iw
Itoldew In the mine, the ratw!, the railway, in
applii'ttiioii of Htewn to . tlfiilhirc, and
into tnwle. But if alno iti'<HlreK lurj^w <*Isi into
th wuiws compe.tition ; th old energy of ihe Norm*
rawuiniiK itnelf with thew itiaguificettt powers; i^w
men provi* wt overnuiteh for fh landtwner, and flia
mill buy out this catle. Sriindirrnvmn Thoiv who
tnee forged hi bolls in joy Hedti, wid litiilt galloyg
by Icmely fionl, in Knglitnd lum iwlvniteetl with tho
tiitij litw horn htH Iwurd, etttern Pttrliasttettt^ site
down atadtiiik in the. luditi Ilc t mifl lemU Miolktir
to Birmingham for a
X.] WEALTH. 133
The creation of wealth in England in the last
ninety years is a main fact in modern history. The
wealth of London determines prices all over the
globe. All things precious, or useful, or amusing, or
intoxicating, are sucked into this commerce and
floated to London. Some English private fortunes
reach, and some exceed, a million of dollars a year.
A hundred thousand palaces adorn the island. All
that can feed the senses and passions, all that can
succour the talent, or arm the hands of the intelligent
middle class, who never spare in what they buy for
their own consumption; all that can aid science,
gratify taste, or soothe comfort, is in open market.
Whatever is excellent and beautiful in civil, rural,
or ecclesiastic architecture; in fountain, garden, or
grounds ; the English noble crosses sea and land to
see and to copy at home. The taste and science of
thirty peaceful generations ; the gardens which Evelyn
planted ; the temples and pleasure-houses which Inigo
Jones and Christopher Wren built; the wood that
Gibbons carved; the taste of foreign and domestic
artists, Shenstone, Pope, Brown, Loudon, Paxton, are
in the vast auction, and the hereditary principle heaps
on the owner of to-day the benefit of ages of owners,
The present possessors are to the full as absolute as
any of their fathers, in choosing and procuring what
they like. This comfort and splendour, the breadth
of lake and mountain, tillage, pasture, and park,
sumptuous castle and modern villa, all consist with
perfect order. They have no revolutions -, no horse-
guards dictating to the crown ; no Parisian $>oi$sarde&
134 ENGLISH TEA1TS [CHAP.
and barricades ; no mob : but drowsy habitude, daily
dress-dinners, wine, and ale, and beer, and gin, and
sleep.
With this power of creation, and this passion for
independence, property has reached an ideal perfec-
tion. It is felt and treated as the national life-blood.
The laws arc framed to give property the securest
possible basis, and the provisions to lock and transmit
it have exorcised the cnnningost heads in a profession
which never admits a fool Tho rights of property
nothing but felony and treason can override. The
house is a castle which the king cannot enter. The
Bank is a strong-box to which tho king has no key,
Whatever surly sweetness possession can give, is tasted
in England to the drega Vostoel rights are awful
things, and absolute possession gives the smallest free-
holder identity of interest with tho duke. High stone
fences and padlocked garden gates announce the
absolute will of the owner to be alone. Every whim
of exaggerated egotism is put into stone and iron, into
silver and gold, with costly deliberation and detail.
An Englishman hoars that tho Queen Dowager
wishes to establish sonic claim to put her park paling
a rod forward into MB grounds, so as to got a coach-
way, and save hot a mile to the avenue. Instantly
he transforms his paling into stone-masonry, aolid as
tho walls of Cuma, and all Europe cannot prevail on
him to sell or compound for an inch of the land.
They delight in a freak as the proof of their sovereign
freedom. Sir Edward Boynton, at Spic Park, at
Cadenharn, on a precipice of incomparable prospect,
X.] WEALTH. 135
built a house like a long barn, which had not a window
on the prospect side. Strawberry Hill of Horace
Walpole, Fonthill Abbey of Mr. Beckford, were
freaks; and Newstead Abbey became one in the
hands of Lord Byron.
But the proudest result of this creation has been
the great and refined forces it has put at the disposal
of the private citizen. In the social world an Eng-
lishman to-day has the best lot. He is a king in a
plain coat. He goes with the most powerful protec-
tion, keeps the best company, is armed by the best
education, is seconded by wealth ; and his English
name and accidents are like a flourish of trumpets
announcing him. This, with his quiet style of
manners, gives him the power of a sovereign, without
the inconveniences which belong to that rank. I
much prefer the condition of an English gentleman
of the better class to that of any potentate in Europe,
whether for travel, or for opportunity of society,
or for access to means of science or study, or for mere
comfort and easy healthy relation to people at home.
Such as we have seen is the wealth of England, a
mighty mass, and made good in whatever details we
care to explore. The cause and spring of it is the
wealth of temperament in the people. The wonder
of Britain is this plenteous nature. Her worthies are
over surrounded by as good men as themselves j each
is a captain a hundred strong, and that wealth of men
is represented again in the faculty of each individual,
that he has waste strength, power to spare. The
English are so rich, and seem to have established a
136 ENGLISH TKAITS. [OHAP.
tap-root in the bowels of the planet, because they
are constitutionally fertile and creative.
But a man must keep an eye on his servants, if he
would not have them rule him. Man is a shrewd
inventor, and is ever taking the hint of a new machine
from his own structure, adapting some secret of his
own anatomy in iron, wood, and leather, to some
required function in the work of the world. But it
is found that the machine unmans the user. What
he gains in making cloth he loses in general power.
There should be temperance in making cloth, as well
as in eating. A man should not be a silkworm ; nor
a nation a tent of caterpillars. The robust rural
Saxon degenerates in the mills to the Leicester stock-
inger, to the imbecile Manchester spinner, far on
the way to be spiders and needles. The incessant
repetition of the same hand-work dwarfs the man,
robs him of his strength, wit, and versatility, to make
a pin-polisher, a buckle-maker, or any other specialty \
and presently, in ,a change of industry, whole towns
are sacrificed like ant-hills, when the fashion of shoe-
strings supersedes buckles, when cotton takes the
place of linen, or railways of turnpikes, or when
commons are inclosed by landlords. Then society is
admonished of the mischief of the division of labour,
and that the best political economy is care and culture
of men; for, in these crises, all are mined except
such as are proper individuals, capable of thought,
and of new choice and the application of their talent
to new labour. Then again come in new calamities,
England is aghast at the disclosure of her fraud in the
x.] WEALTH. 137
adulteration of food, of drugs, and of almost every
fabric in her mills and shops ; finding that milk will
not nourish, nor sugar sweeten, nor bread satisfy, nor
pepper bite the tongue, nor glue stick. In true
England all is false and forged. This too is the re-
action of machinery, but of the larger machinery of
commerce. Tis not, I suppose, want of probity, so
much as the tyranny of trade, which necessitates a
perpetual competition of underselling, and that again
a perpetual deterioration of the fabric.
The machinery has proved, like the balloon, un-
manageable, and flies away with the aeronaut. Steam,
from the first, hissed and screamed to warn him ; it
was dreadful with its explosion, and crushed the
engineer. The machinist has wrought and watched,
engineers and firemen without number have been
sacrificed in learning to tame and guide the monster.
But harder still it has proved to resist and rule the
dragon Money, with his paper wings. Chancellors
and Boards of Trade, Pitt, Peel, and Kobinson, and
their Parliaments, and their whole generation, adopted
false principles, and went to their graves in the belief
that they were enriching the country which they wore
impoverishing. They congratulated each other on
ruinous expedients. It is rare to find a merchant
who knows why a crisis occurs in trade, why prices
rise or fall, or who knows the mischief of paper money.
In the culmination of national prosperity, in the an-
nexation of countries; building of ships, depots,
towns ; in the influx of tons of gold and silver ; amid
the chuckle of chancellors and financiers, it was found
138 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
that bread rose to famine prices, that the yeoinan was
forced to sell his cow and pig, his tools, and his acre
of land y and the dreadful barometer of the poor-rates
was touching the point of ruin. The poor-rate was
sucking in the solvent classes, and forcing an exodus
of farmers and mechanics. What befalls from the
violence of financial crises, befalls daily in the violence
of artificial legislation.
Such a wealth has England earned, ever new,
bounteous, and augmenting. But the question recurs,
Does she take the step beyond, namely, to the wise
use, in view of the supreme wealth of nations 1 We
estimate the wisdom of nations by seeing what they
did with their surplus capital. And, in view of these
injuries, some compensation hac been attempted in
England. A part of the money earned returns to the
brain to buy schools, libraries, bishops, astronomers,
chemists, and artists with \ and a part to repair the
wrongs of this intemperate weaving, by hospitals,
savings-banks, Mechanics' Institutes, public grounds,
and other charities and amenities. But the antidotes
are frightfully inadequate, and the evil requires a
deeper cure, which time and a simpler social organ-
isation must supply. At present, she doos not rule
her wealth. She is simply a good England, but no
divinity, or wise and instructed soul. She too is in
the stream of fate, one victim more in a common
catastrophe.
But being in the fault, sho has the misfortune of
greatness to be held as the chief offender. England
x.J WEALTH. 139
must be held responsible for the despotism of expense
Her prosperity, the splendour which so much man-
hood and talent and perseverance has thrown upon
vulgar aims, is the very argument of materialism.
Her success strengthens the hands of base wealth.
Who can propose to youth poverty and wisdom when
mean gain has arrived at the conquest of letters and
arts ; when English success has grown out of the very
renunciation of principles, and the dedication to out-
sides ? A civility of trifles, of money and expense,
an erudition of sensation takes place, and the putting
as many impediments as we can between the man
and his objects. Hardly the bravest among them
have the manliness to resist it successfully. Hence,
it has come, that not the aims of a manly life, but
the means of meeting a certain ponderous expense, is
that which is to be considered by a youth in Eng-
land, emerging from his minority. A large family is
reckoned a misfortune. And it is a consolation in
the death of the young that a source of expense is
closed
140 HNtiLlfcSH TKAHU
CHAPTER XL
ARISTCXIKACX
THE feudal character of the Kuglwh wtatfy now that
it Is getting obsolete, glares a littlo, in contrast with
the democratic tondenekja The inequality of power
and property shocks republican wirvoK. PalaooH,
halls, villas, walled parka all ovor England, rival the
splendour of royal Beats, Many of tlui halls, like
Haddon, or Kodloston, are beautiful (loHolaUons. The?
proprietor never saw thorn, or novor Hvwi in thnu.
Primogeniture built those .snmpttuWH pilra, and, I
suppose, it is the sentiment of ovcry travollor, m it
was mine, 'Twas wall to come ore thoxa were gona
Prhno^nlturc ia a cardinal rule of English property
and institutions. Law, cuatonw, mannars, the vory
poraons and faces, ailinn it.
Tho frame of society ia arulucraiir, tho fiistii of
the people i loyal. Tho estates, ruwnos, and xuanuorH
of the nobles flatter the fancy of the poplo t and con-
ciliate the nocofiary aupport^ In pifeo of broken
faith, stolon chartcrn, and the devastation of Koritity
by the profligacy of the court, we take sitltiH m wo rettcl
for th.e loyal England and King Chsu'Wn " rutunk to
XL] ARISTOCEACY. 141
his right " with his Cavaliers, knowing what a heart-
less trifler he is, and what a crew of God-forsaken
robbers they are. The people of England knew as
much. But the fair idea of a settled government
connecting itself with heraldic names, with the written
and oral history of Europe, and, at last, with the
Hebrew religion, and the oldest traditions of the
world, was too pleasing a vision to bo shattered by a,
low offensive realities, and tho politics of shoemakers
und costermongers. The hopes of the commoners
take tho same direction with the interest of tho patri-
cians. Every man who becomes rich buys land, and
does what ho can to fortify the nobility, into which
he hopes to rise. The Anglican clergy are identified
with tho aristocracy. Time and law have made the
joining and moulding perfect in every part. Tho
Cathedrals, tho IJmvorHitios, tho national music, the
popular romances, conspire to uphold tho heraldry,
which tho current politics of the clay arc sapping,
Tho taste of the people is conservative. They arc
proud of the castles, and of the language and symbol
of chivalry. Even tho word lord is tho luckiest style
that in used in any language to designate a patrician.
The superior education and manners of the nobles
recommend them to the country,
The Norwegian pirate got what ho coxJcl, and held
it for his oldest son. The Norman noblo, who was
the Norwegian pirate baptized, did likewise. There
was this advantage of western, over oriental nobility,
that this was recruited from below. English history
is aristocracy with the doors open. Who has courage
142 KNOLTSH TBAJTS. [CHAT*.
and faculty, let him come in. Of course the terms
of admission to this club arc hard and high. Tim
selfishness of the nobles cornea in aid of the interest
of the nation to require signal merit Piracy and
war gave place to trade, politics, and lottera ; the
war-lord to the law-lord ; the law-lord to tho merchant
and the xnillownor ; but the privilege wan kept,
whilst the means of obtaining it were changed.
The foundations of theao families lift d^.ep in Nor
wegian exploits by soa, and Saxon Htomlimws on land.
All nobility in ifcn beginnings wan somebody's natural
superiority. The things those English have done
wore not done without poril of life, nor without
wisdom and conduct ; and the first hands, it may be
presumed, were often challenged to nhmv their right
to their honours, or yield thorn to hotter men. "1I
that will bo a head, lot him IMS a bridge/' waul the,
Wolh chief Tti'.negridran, when he carried all hwmett
over the river on his back, " Ho Khali have the book/*
said the mother of Alfred, "who can read il; M aiul
Alfred won it by that title: and 1 make no doubt
that feudal tenure was no sinecure, but baron, knight,
and tenant., often had their memories refreshed, in
regard to the service by which they hold their landa
The Do Veres, Bohunn, M<wbray, and Flan tn genets
wore not addicted to eontmnjdation, 1'he wiitldle ago
wlorned itself with proofi* of tnimhood imtl t
Of Kichard B(auchanip T Karl of \V.-ir\vSrli, the
told Henry V. that no OhrintSiai king had uch uno
knight f<r wisdom, nurture, and uumhwnl, and
him to be named " Father of ctirtcHio. "Our
XL] AllISTOCKACY. 143
in France," says the historian, " lived and died with
him." l
The war-lord earned his honours, and no donation
of land was largo, as long as it brought the duty of
protecting it, hour "by hour, against a terrible enemy.
In France and in England, the nobles were, down to
a late day, born and bred to war : and the duel, which
in peace still held them to the risks of war, diminished
the envy that, in trading and studious nations, would
else have priod into their title. They were looked
on as men who played high for a great stake.
Groat estates are not sinecures, if they are to be
kept great. A creative economy is the fuel of magnifi-
cence. In the same line of Warwick, the successor
next but one to Beauchamp, was the stout earl of
Henry VI and Edward IV. Few esteemed thorn-
solves in the mode whose heads were not adorned
with the black ragged staff, his badge. At his house
in London, six oxen were daily eaten at a breakfast ;
and every tavern was full of his moat : and who had
any acquaintance in his family should have as much
boiled and roast as ho could carry on a long dagger.
The new age brings new qualities into request, the
virtues of pirates gave way to those of planters,
merchants, senators, and scholars. Comity, social
talent and fino manners, no doubt, have had their part
also, I havo mot somewhere with a historiotte, which,
whether more or less true in its particulars, carries a
general truth. "How came the Duke of Bedford by
his great landed estates 1 His ancestor having tra-
1 Fullor'a "Worthies, ii. p. 472.
144 ENGLISH TRAITS, [oiui
veiled on th Continent, a lively, pleasant man, became
the companion of a foreign prince wrecked on the
Dorsetshire coast, where Mr. Russell lived The
prince recommended him to Henry VI! 1, who, liking
his company, gave him a largo Kharo of the pluiuluir.il
church lands,"
The protonco is that the noble is of unbroken
descent from the Norman, and has never worked for
eight hundred yearn. But the fact IB otherwine.
Where is Bolumt Where in Do Vwe? The lawyer,
the farmer, the mlk mercer, lies pmln under t h<, <-or< nu i f ,
and winks to the antiquary to aay nothing ; r.Bprcially
skilful lawyer^ nobody^ HOM, who did Home piece of
work at a nice moment for government, and wore
rewarded with ermine.
The national tastes of the English do not lead them
to the life of the courtier, but to secure the comfort
and independence of their homes, Tlwt aristocracy are
marked by their predilection for country life** They
are called the county families, They have of Urn no
residence in London, and only #o thither a short time,
during the seanon, to ee the opera ; but they concen-
trate tho love and labour of many generations on the
building, planting and decoration of their hommteads,
Some of them art* too old and too proud to wear titles,
or, a Bhoridan said of (Joke, "diwlam to hide thmr
head in a coronet j" and uomo ctirioiw examples ore
cited to tthow the Btubility of Eitglinli fitmilic Their
proverb in, that, fifty miles from London* a family
will lant a hundrod yeant ; at a hundred nnlm, tw
hundred yeaw j and o on ; but I doubt that teain t
XL] ARISTOCRACY. H5
the enemy of time, as well as of space, will disturb
these ancient rules. Sir Henry Wotton says of the
first Duke of Buckingham, " He was "born at Brookeby
in Leicestershire, where his ancestors had chiefly
continued about the space of four hundred years,
rather without obscurity than with any great lustre." l
Wraxall says, that in 1781, Lord Surrey, afterwards
Duke of Norfolk, told him, that when the year 1783
should arrive, he meant to give a grand festival to all
the descendants of the body of Jockey of Norfolk, to
mark the day when the dukedom should have re-
mained three hundred years in their house, since its
creation by Richard III. Pepys tells us, in writing
of an Earl Oxford, in 1666, that tho honour had now
remained in that name and blood six hundred years.
This long descent of families and this cleaving
through ages to the same spot of ground captivates
the imagination. It has too a connection with the
names of the towns and districts of the country.
The names are excellent, an atmosphere of
legendary melody spread over the land. Older than
all epics and histories, which clothe a nation, this
undershirt flits close to the body. "What history too,
and what stores of primitive and savage observation it
infolds ! Cambridge is tho bridge of the Cam ; Shef-
field the field of the river Sheaf ; Leicester, tho castra
or camp of the Lear or Loir (now Soar) ; Rochdale,
of the Roch; Exoter or Excester, the castm of the
Ex ; Exmouth, Dartmouth, Sidmouth, Toignmouth,
the mouths of the Ex, Dart, Sid, and Teign rivers.
1 Reliquiae Wottoxdana.*, p. 208,
VOL. IV. L
146 ENGLISH TRAITS,
Waltham is strong town ; Kadeliffe is rod cliff ; and
so on : a sincerity and use in naming very striking
to an American, whoso country is whitewashed all
over by unmeaning names, the cast-off clothes of the
country from which its emigrants came ; or, named
at a pinch from a psalm-tuno. But the English are
those " barbarians " of Jamhlichus, who "are stable
in their manners, and iirmly continue to employ the
same words, which also arc dear to the gods,"
'Tis an old sneer, that the Irish peerage drew their
names from playbooks. The Knglish lords do not
call their lands after their own names, but call them-
selves after their lands ; as if the man represented the
country that bred him; and they rightly wear the token
of the globe that gave thorn birth ; suggesting that the
tie is not cut, but that there in London, the crags of
Argylo, the kail of Cornwall, the downs of Devon, the
iron of Wales, the clays of Stafford, are neither forget-
ting nor forgotten, but know the man who was born
\>y them, and who, Hko the long line of his fathers,
has carried that crag, that short), dale, fan, or wood-
land, iu hia blood and ittannoiu It has, too, the
advantage of suggesting resporusiblonass. A BUHcep-
tible man could not wear a name which represented
in a strict sense a city or a county of England, with-
out hearing in it a challenge to duty and honour.
The predilection of tho patricians for residence in
the country, combined with tho dogroo of liberty
posHGBBod by tho peasant, "makes the safety of the
English hall Miraboau wrote prophetically from
England, in 1784, " If revolution break out in Franco
XL] ARISTOCRACY. 147
I tremble for the aristocracy : their chateaux will be
reduced to ashes, and their blood spilt in torrents.
The English tenant would defend his lord to the last
extremity." The English go to thoir estates for
grandeur. The French live at court, and exile them-
selves to their estates for economy. As they do nofc
mean to live with their tenants, they do not conciliate
them, but wring from them the last sous. Evelyn
writes from Blois, in 1644, "The wolves are here in
such numbers that they often come and take children
out of the streets : yet will not the Dnko, who is sovc*
reign here, permit them to be destroyed. "
In evidence of the wealth amassed by ancient
families, the traveller is shown, the palaces in Piccadilly,
Burlington House, Devonshire House, Lansdowno
House in Berkeley Square, and, lower clown in the city,
a few noble houses which still withstand in all their
amplitude the encroachment of streets. The Duke
of Bedford includes or included a mile square in the
heart of London, where the British Museum, once
Montague House, now stands, and tho land occupied
by Woburn Square, Bedford Square, Kussoll Square.
The Marquis of Westminster built within a few years
the series of squares called Bclgravia. Stafford House is
the noblest palace in London, Northumberland House
holds its place by Charing Cross. Chesterfield House
remains in Audloy Street. Sion House and Holland
House are in tho suburbs. But most of the historical
houses are masked or lost in the modern uses to which
trade or charity has converted them. A multitude of
town palaces contain inestimable galleries of art.
148 ENGLISH TKAITS. [cm?.
In the country the ske of private estates is more
impressive. From fearnard Castle I rode on the
highway twenty-three miles from High Force, a fall
of the Tees, towards Darlington, past Kaby Castle,
through the estate of the Duke of Cleveland. The
Marqnis of Breadalbano rides out of his house a
hundred miles in a straight lino to the sea, on his
own property. The Duke of Sutherland owns the
comity of Sutherland, stretching across Scotland from
sea to sea. The Duke of Devonshire, besides Ida other
estates, ownn 06,000 acres in the county of Derby,
The Duko of .Richmond has 40,000 acres at Good-
wood, and 300,000 at Gordon Castle. The Duko of
Norfolk's park in Sussex is fifteen miles in circuit
An agriculturist bought lately the island of LOWOH, in
Hebrides, containing 500,000 acres. The possessions
of the Earl of Lonstlale gave him eight seats in Par-
liament This is the Heptarchy again ; and before*
the Reform of 1832, one hundred and fifty- four perrons
sent throe hundred and seven members to Parliament.
The borough unmoors i^ovmird Kngland.
These largo domains arc growing larger. The great
estates arc absorbing the small freehold**. In 1780,
the soil of England was owned by *J 50,000 corporations,
and proprietor; and, in IW'J, by 32,000* Theac
broad estates find room in this narrow inland. All
over England, scattered at short intervals among fihip-
yard, milk, wines, and forgon, are tho parudieH of the
nobles, whore the livelong ropOHe and refinement are
heightened by the contrast with tho roar of Industry
and neceBRity, out of which you have atopptul
XI,] AM8TOCKA.CY. 149
I was surprised to observe the very small attend-
ance usually in the House of Lords. Out of 573
peers, on ordinary days only twenty or thirty.
Where are they 1 ? I asked. "At homo on their
estates, devoured by ennui, or in the Alps, or up the
Rhine, in the Han; Mountains, or in Egypt, or in
India, on the Ghauts." But, with such interests at
stake, how can these men afford to neglect them?
"Oh," replied my friend, "why should they work
for themselves, when every man in England works for
them, and will suffer before they come to harm?"
The hardest radical instantly uncovers, and changes
his tone to a lord. It was remarked, on tho 10th
April 1848 (the day of the Chartist demonstration),
that tho upper classes wore for tho first time actively
interesting themselves in thoir own defence, and men
of rank were sworn special constables, with the rest
" Besides, why need they ait out tho debate? Has
not tho Duke of Wellington, at this moment, their
proxies, 'the proxies of fifty peers in his pocket, to
vote for them if there be an emergency *? "
It is however true, that the existence of the House
of Peers as a branch of the government entitles thorn
to fill half the Cabinet ; and their weight of property
and station give them a virtual nomination of the
other half ; whilst they have their share in tho sub-
ordinate offices, as a school of training. This mono-
poly of political power has given thorn their intellectual
and social eminence in Europe, A few law lords and
a few political lords take the brant of public business.
150 ENGLISH TRAITS.
In the army, the nobility fill a large part of the high
commissions, and give to these a tone of expense and
splendour, and also of exelusivenoss. They have
borne their full share of duty and danger in this
service - 3 and there are few noble families which have
not paid in some of their members the debt of life or
limb, m the sacrifices of the Eussian war. For the
rest, the nobility have the load in matters of state,
and of expense ; in questions of taste, in social mages,
in convivial and domestic hospitalities. In general,
all that is required of them is to Bit securely, to pre-
side at public meetings, to countenance charities,
and to give the example of that decorum so dear to
the British heart
If one askn, in the critical spirit of the day, what
service this class have rendered luacw appear, or
they would have perished long ago. Sortie of those
are easily enumerated, others more subtle make a
part of unconscious history* Their institution in one
step in the progress of society. For a race yields a
nobility in some form, however wa naino the lords,
as surely an it yields women.
The English noble* are hyh spirited, active, edu-
cated men, horn to wealth and power, who have run
through every country, and kept in every country
the best company, have mmi ovary secret of art and
nature, and, when men of any ability or ambition,
have been consulted m the conduct of vry important
action. You cannot wield great agmdtw "without
lending yourself to them* and, wh<w it liapptmi that
the spirit of the carl meets hie rank and duties we
XL] AKISTOCRACY. 151
have the best examples of behaviour. Power of any
kind readily appears in the manners ; and beneficent
power, le talent de bien faire, gives a majesty which
cannot be concealed or resisted.
These people seem to gain as much as they lose by
their position. They survey society, as from the top
of St. Paul's, and, if they never hear plain truth from
men, they see the best of everything, in every kind,
and they see things so grouped and amassed as to
infer easily the sum and genius, instead of tedious
particularities. Their good behaviour deserves all its
fame, and they have that simplicity, and that air of
repose, which are the finest ornament of greatness,
The upper classes have only birth, say the people
here, and not thoughts. Yes, but they hare manners,
and 'tis wonderful how much talent runs into man-
ners : nowhere and never so much as in England
They have the sense of superiority, the absence of
all the ambitious effort which disgusts in the aspiring
classes, a pure tone of thought and feeling, and the
power to command, among their other luxuries, the
presence of the most accomplished men in their festive
Loyalty is in the English a sub-religion. They
wear the laws as ornaments, and walk by thoir faith
in their painted May-Fair, as if among the forms of
gods. The economist of 1855 who asks, of what two
are the lords ? may learn of Franklin to ask, of what
use is a baby ? They have been a social church pro-
per to inspire sentiments mutually honouring the lover
and the loved. Politeness is the ritual of society, as
152 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
prayers are of the church ; a school of manners, and a
gentle blessing to the age in which it grew. 'Tis a
romance adorning English life with a larger horizon ;
a midway heaven, fulfilling to their sense their fairy
tales and poetry. This, just as far as the breeding
of the nobleman really made him bravo s handsome,
accomplished, and great-hearted,
On general grounds, whatever tends to form man-
ners, or to finish men, has a great value. Every one
who has tasted the delight of friendship, will respect
every social guard which our manners can establish,
tending to secure from the intrusion of frivolous and
distasteful people. The jealousy of every class to
guard itself is a testimony to the reality they have
found in life. When a man once knows that he has
done justice to himself, let him dismiss all terrors of
aristocracy as superstitions, so far as he is concerned,
lie who keeps the door of a mine, whether of cobalt,
or mercury, or nickel, or plumbago, securely knows
that the world cannot do without him. Everybody
who in real is open and ready for that which is also
real
Besides, those are they who make England that
strongbox and museum it is ; who gather and protect
works of art, dragged from amidst burning cities and
revolutionary countries, and brought hither out of all
the world. I look with respect at houses six, seven,
eight hundred, or, like Warwick Castle, nine hundred
years old. 1 pardoned high park-fences, when I saw,
that, besides does and pheasants, these have preserved
Arundel marbles, Townloy galleries, Howard and
XL] ARISTOCRACY. 153
Spenserian libraries, Warwick and Portland vases,
Saxon manuscripts, monastic architectures, millennial
trees, and breeds of cattle elsewhere extinct. In these
manors, after the frenzy of war and destruction nub-
sides a little, the antiquary finds the frailest Koman
jar, or crumbling Egyptian mummy-case, without so
much as a new layer of dust, keeping the series of
history unbroken, and waiting for its interpreter, who
is sure to arrive. These lords are the treasurers and
librarians of mankind, engaged by their pride and
wealth to this function.
Yet there wore other works for British dukes to
do, George Loud on, Quintinyc, Evelyn, had taught
them to make gardens, Arthur Young, 'Hakowell,
and Mochi, have made them agricultural Scotland
was a camp until the day of Cullodexi. The dukes of
Athole, Sutherland, Bucclouch, and the Marquia of
Breadalbane have introduced the rape* culture, the
sheep-farm, wheat, drainage, the plantation of forastw,
the artificial replenishment of lakes and ponds with
fish, the renting of game- preserves. Against the cry
of the old tenantry, and the sympathetic cry of the
English press, they have rooted out and planted anew,
and now six: millions of people live, and live better,
on the same land that fed throe millions
The English barons, in every period, have been
brave and great, after the estimate and opinion of
their times. The grand old halls scattered up and
down in England arc dumb vouchers to the state and
broad hospitality of their anciont lords, Shakspimre's
portraits of good Duke Humphrey, of Warwick, of
154 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
Northumberland, of Talbot, were drawn in strict con-
sonance with the traditions, A sketch of the Earl of
Shrewsbury, from the pen of Queen Elizabeth's arch-
bishop Parker ; l Lord Herbert of Cherbury's auto-
biography ; the letters and essays of Sir Philip Sidney ;
the anecdotes preserved by the antiquaries Fuller and
Collins; some glimpses at the interiors of noble
houses, which we owe to Pepys and Evelyn : the
details which Bon Jonson's masques (performed at
Kenilworth, Althorpe, Belvoir, and other noble
houses) record or suggest \ down to Aubrey's passages
of the life of Hobbes in the house of the Earl of
Devon, are favourable pictures of a romantic style of
manners. Penshurst still shines for us, and its
Christmas revels, " where logs not burn, but men."
At Wilton House, the " Arcadia " was written, amidst
conversations with Fulke Grovillo, Lord Brooke, a
man of no vulgar mind, as his own poems declare him.
I must hold Ludlow Castle an honest house, for which
Milton's "Comus" was written, and the company
nobly bred which performed it with knowledge and
sympathy. In the roll of nobles arc found poets,
philosophers, chemists, astronomers, ako men of solid
virtues and of lofty sentiments ; often they have been
the friends and patrons of genius and learning, and
especially of the line arts ; and at this moment, almost
every great house has its sumptuous picture-gallery,
Of course there is another side to this gorgeous
show. Every victory was the defeat of a party only
less worthy. Castles are proud things, but 'tis safest
1 Dibdin's Literary Baminiscences, Tol. 1 , xiL
XL] ARISTOCRACY. 155
to be outside of them, War in a foul game, and yet
war is not the worst part of aristocratic history. In
later times, when the "baron, educated only for war,
with his brains paralysed by his stomach, found him-
self idle at homo, he grow fat and wanton, and a sorry
brute. Grammont, Pepys, and Evelyn, show the
kennels to which the king and court went in quest of
pleasure, Prostitutes, taken from the theatres, were
made duchesses, thoir bastards dukos and earls, ** The
young men sat uppermost, the old serious lords wore
out of favour/' The discourse that the king'0 com*
panions had with him was ** poor and frothy." No
man who valued his head might do what these pot-
companions familiarly did with the king. In logical
sequence of these dignified revels, Popys can toll the
beggarly shifts to which the king was reduced, who
could not find paper at his council table, and "no
handkerchera n in his wardrobe, *' and but three bands
to his neck," and tho linen-drapor and the stationer
were out of pocket, and refusing to trust him, and the
baker will not bring bread any longer. Meantime,
tho English Channel was swupt, and London threatened
by the Dutch fleet, maimed too by English sailors,
who, having been cheated of their pay for yoara by
the king, enlisted with the enemy,
Tho Solwyn comwpondrnw m the reign of George
III discloses a rottenness in the aristocracy which
threatened to dccomposo the state, Tho sycophancy
and sale of votes and honour, for place and title;
lewdnoss, gaming, smuggling, bribery, and cheating ;
the sneer at the childish indiscretion of quarrelling
156 ENGLISH TRAITS. Jew A*,
with ten thousand a year ; the want of i<lwt ; the
splendour of the titles, and the apathy of the nation,
are instructive, and make the reader pau*w and
explore the firm hounds which confined thtnw viwa to
a handful of rich men. In the reign of tho Fourth
George things do not seem to have tmintlwl, uml th
rotten dehauchoe let down from a window by an
inclined plane into Ms coach to take the air, w:i n
scandal to Europe, which the ill fame of hi* qumi awl
of his family did nothing to retrieves.
Under the present reign the pwfw-t dt*twnim of
the Court is thought to have put a chock on tlin jjrnwi
vices of the aristocracy ; yet gaming, racing, <lrinkm&
and mistresses, bring them down, and tlw <l<flnot*nt
can still gather scandals if ho will, Pummi amxulotoft
abound, verifying the gossip of the kt #<mwratiou,
of dukes served by bailiffs, with all thir phte in
pawn \ of great lords living by the showing of tlurir
houses ; and of an old man wliooled in hw clmir frutit
room to room, whilst his chambers are exhibit <n! t<
the visitor for money; of raincwl ilukw am! win
living in exile for debt. The historic mines of tin*
Buckinghams, Bcauforts, Marlborou^lis.aud flrrifm.!, ,
have gained no new lustre, and now am! thoa i
scandals break out, ominoufl as the wow
added under the Orleans dynasty to this
C&kbres" in France. Even peora, who a
worth and public spirit, are overtaken ami
rassed by their vast oxpeiiBa Tho rptdalh Duke
of Devonshire, willing to be the Mecsenas awl LuctdluN
of his island, is reported to have said that ho can-
XL] ARISTOCRACY. 157
not live at Chatsworth but one month in the year,
Their many houses eat them up. They cannot soil
them, because they are entailed. They will not let
them, for pride's sake, but keep thorn empty, aired,
and the grounds mown and dressed, at a cost of four
or five thousand pounds a year. The spending is for
a great part in servants, in many houses exceeding a
hundred.
Most of them are only chargeable with idleness,
which, because it squanders such vast power of bene-
fit, has the mischief of crime. " They might bo little
Providences on earth," said my friend, " and they arc,
for the most part, jockeys and fops." Campbell says,
"acquaintance with the nobility I could never keep
up. It requires a life of idleness, dressing, and attend-
ance on their parties." I suppose, too, that a feeling
of self-respect is driving cultivated men out of this
society, as if the noble were slow to receive the lessons
of the times, and had not learned to disguise his pride
of place. A man of wit, who is also one of the cele-
brities of wealth and fashion, confessed to his friend
that he could not enter their hoiisos without being
made to feel that they were great lords, and ho a low
plebeian. With the tribe of artistes, including the
musical tribe, the patrician morgue keeps no terms,
but excludes them. When Julia Grisi and Mario sang
at the houses of the Duke of Wellington and other
grandees, a cord was stretched between the singer and
the company.
When every noble was a soldier they were care-
fully bred to great personal prowess, Tho education
158 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
of a soldier is a simpler affair than that of an earl in
the nineteenth century. And this was very seriously
pursued ; they were expert in every species of equita-
tion, to the most dangerous practices, and this down
to the accession of William of Orange. But graver
men appear to have trained their sons for civil affairs.
Elizabeth extended her thought to the future; and
Sir Philip Sidney in his letter to his brother, and
Milton and Evelyn, gave plain and hearty counsel
Already too, the English noble and squire were pre-
paring for the career of the country gentleman, and
his peaceable expense. They went from city to city,
learning receipts to make perfumes, sweet powders,
pomanders, antidotes, gathering seeds, gems, coins, and
divers curiosities, preparing for a private life there-
after, in which they should take pleasure in these
recreations.
All advantages given to absolve the young patri-
cian from intellectual labour are of course mistaken.
"In the university, noblemen are exempted from the
public exercises for the degree, etc., by which they
attain a degree called honorary. At the same time,
the fees they have to pay for matriculation, and on
all other occasions, are much higher." 1 Fuller records
"the observation of foreigners, that Englishmen, by
making their children gentlemen before they are men,
cause they are so seldom wise men." This cockering
justifies Dr. Johnson's bitter apology for primogeni-
ture, "that it makes but one fool in a family."
The revolution in society has reached this class.
1 Huber. History of English Universities.
xi,] ARISTOCRACY, 159
The great powera of induntrial art have BO exclusion
of name or blood. The tools of our time namely,
Hteam^ ships, printing, money, and popular education-
belong to those who can handle them: and their clTeH
hax bw% that adv;ini,v;rri onco confined to men of
family are now ojwu to tlw whole middle clam The
road that gnmdrur levels for hia coach, toil can travel
in his nut.
Thin in more manifeat every day, but I think it
in true fhnnHumf. Knglwh hintory, English history,
read, in tho vindication of the brain of that
4 H<-rt* f lit l$wt ? were climate and condition
friendly In the working faculty. Who now will work
and <lare nhnH rub. This in tho chartcsr, or the
flwrlMii* whieh ft>^ and Kt,sw and rains proclaim(id,
* that intt',Htit and pemmal force Khould make the
law ; that industry and athuiniKtrativo ttilent whould
administer ; that work ithould wear tho crown. I
know that not thin, but ^oiucthln^ elm\ in
Th fiction with which thti noble and the
ecjmdly plmo thcinKelvi'H i > that the former is of
unbroken drwent from the Horntan, and so ha novor
worked for eight hundred year* All tho families are
new, but the name in old, and they have made a
covenant with their memories not to disturb it But
the i!yffl of th pcrra^f atul gentry shown the rapid
denmy and itxtiiwtitm of old fawiilioH, tho continual re-
cruiting of ilioMO from now blood. The doors* though
oHtentatiiottHly gmurded, are really oper^ and hence tho
power of tlw bribe* All the Imrriew to rank only
wlwt the tliiwi and enhan tho prim "Now/' saltl
160 ENGLISH TRAITS, (Viur,
Nelson, when clearing for battle, "a peerage, or \V<*t*
minster Abbey!" "I have no illusion MC said
Sydney Smith, "but the Archbishop of fimfrrbury/*
"The lawyers," said Burke, "are only birdn of PIUWHKO
in this House of Commons/' and thon addrd, with u
new figure, "they have their boat bo\vir anchor in th<
House of Lords,"
Another stride that has been takon, appoarn in flit*
perishing of heraldry. Whilst tho pri v ilc^t-;- * >{ nobility
are passing to the middle class, tho badge w diwtwlltel,
and the titles of lordship are getting musty and cum
bersome, I wonder that sensible itton have* not bwii
already impatient of them. They Montf, with wi$s
powder, and scarlet coats, U> an ewlir ugt% isinl tuny
be advantageously anud^uod, with psiititt and fitfttw^
to the dignitarios of Australia and Polynesia,
A multitude of English, oclucated at tlut twiivfrattiw,
bred into their society with luannotHf abilit?y, uiut th*
gifts of fortune, aro every day confronting th fi**i*r
on a footing of equality, and outstripping th*nt, m
often, in the race of honour and inilumirt*, lltut
cultivated class is large and tnw < k nlttrjB(in^ It I*
computed that, with titlew and without^ iliti't* an-
seventy thousand of those poopla refitting ami jiwitg hi
London, who make up what w rallotl lii|(li
They cannot shut thoir oyo to tho fuet that an un
nobility possess all the powur without th i
nces that belong to rank, and tho rich Kn^JMmmn
goes over tho world at the presont <lay drawing nww*
than all the advantages which thd Htnmgtwt of lim
kings could comtnand
XIL ] UNIVERSITIES. 1 6 1
CHAPTER XIL
UNIVERSITIES.
OF British, universities, Cambridge has the most illus-
trious names on its list. At the present day, too, it
has the advantage of Oxford, counting in its alumni
a greater number of distinguished scholars. I regret
that I had but a single day wherein to see King's
College Chapel, the beautiful lawns and gardens of
the colleges, and a few of its gownsmen.
But I availed myself of some repeated invitations
to Oxford, where I had introductions to Dr. Daubeny,
Professor of Botany, and to the Kegius Professor of
Divinity, as well as to a valued friend, a Fellow of
Oriel, and went thither on the last day of March
1848. I was the guest of my friend in Oriel, was
housed close upon that college, and I lived on college
hospitalities.
My new friends showed me their cloisters, the
Bodleian Library, the Eandolph Gallery, Merton Hall,
and the rest. I saw several faithful, high-minded
young men, some of them in the mood of making
sacrifices for peace of mind, a topic, of course, on
which I had no counsel to offer. Their affectionate
and gregarious ways reminded me at once of 'the habits
VOL. IV. M
162 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP,
of OUT Cambridge men, though I imputed to these
English an advantage in their secure and polished
manners. The halls are rich with oaken wainscoting
and ceiling. The pictures of the founders hang from
the walls; the tables glitter with plate. A youth
came forward to the upper table, and pronounced the
ancient form of grace before meals, which, 1 suppono,
has been in use here for ages, Itinwdiduix hntidtMt;
lenedidtwr, lenedicatur.
It is a curious proof of the English use and wont,
or of their good nature, that these young men are
locked up every night at nine o'clock, and the porter
at each hall is required to give the namo of any
belated student who is admitted after that hour,
Still more descriptive is the fact, that out of twelvo
hundred young men, comprising tho most npirittul of
the aristocracy, a duel has never occurred
Oxford is old, even in England, and conservative
Its foundations date from Alfred, and ovou from
Arthur, if, as is alleged, the Phoryllt of the Druidn
had a seminary hero, In the reign of Edward I, it
is pretended, hero were thirty thotiBOiul stutlwitHj
and nineteen most noble foundations were then
established. Chaucer found it as firm tut if it had
always stood; and it is, in British story, rich witli
great names, the school of the island, and the link of
England to tho learned of Europa Hither cama
Erasmus, with delight, in 1497 ; Alborieua Gtsntilw, in
1580, was relieved arid maintained by the university.
Albert Alaslcie, a noble Polonian, .I'rinco of Sinwl,
who visited England to admire the wisdom of Quww
xn,] UNIVERSITIES. 1C3
Elizabeth, was entertained with stage -plays in the
Kefectory of Ohristchurch, IB 1583. Isaac Casaubon,
coming from Henri Quatre of France, by invitation
of Jam oa L, was admitted to Christ's College, in July
1613. 1 saw the Ashmolean Museum, whither Elias
Ashmole, in 1682, sent twelve cart-loads of rarities.
lloro indeed was the Olympia of all Antony Wood's
and Aubrey's games and heroes, and every inch of
ground lias its lustre. For Wood's Athena Oxonienses,
or calendar of the writers of Oxford for two hundred
years, is a lively record of English manners and merits,
and as much a national monument as Purchas's
Pilgrims or Hansard's .Register. On every side,
Oxford is redolent of age and authority. Its gates
shut of themselves against modern innovation. It is
atill governed by tlio statutes of Archbishop Laud
The books in Morton Library arc still chained to the
wall Horo, on August 27, 1660, John Milton's Pro
Ityntlo Aiujllamo fle/ewo, and Tconodastes, were com-
mitted to the flames. I saw the school-court or quad-
rangle, where, in 1683, the Convocation caused the
Leviathan of Thomas Hobbes to be publicly burnt,
1 do not know whether this learned body have yet
heard of the Declaration of American Independence,
or whether the Ptolemaic astronomy does not still
hold its ground against tlxo novelties of Copernicus.
As many sons, almost so many benefactors. It is
usual for a -nobleman, or indeed for almost every
wealthy student, on quitting college, to leave behind
him Home article of plate; and gifts of all values,
from a hall, or a fellowship, or a library, down to u
164 ENGLISH TKMTS, [OH A?
picture or a spoon, arc continually accruing, lit tho
course of a century. My friend Doctor I, $tv<* m
the following anecdote: In Sir Thomas Lawraw/s
collection at London were tho cartoons of Raphael
and Michel Angolo. This iutwtimaWtj prat 1 was
offered to Oxford University For so van thouHand
pounds. Tho offer was accepted, and tho wmmiifetw
charged with tho affair had e,oHoc'.t<td threw thousand
pounds, when, among other frien<l, they ralUwl on
Lord Eldon, Instead of a hundred pounds his nur
prised them by putting down Inn namo for thrw
thousand pounds, They told him th* k y should now
very easily raise tho remainder. u No," ho ald ;
"your men have probably already contributed all
they can spare j I can as well givo tho rent ; " and
he withdrew his ohotjue for throo tlum^and, and wrutu
four thousand pounds. 1 saw tho wholu collection
in April 1848.
In tho Bodleian Library, Dr. Bandiwl liowd itw
the manuscript Plato> of tho data of A*t, HD(I ln>iight
by Dr. Clarke from Kgypt; a luantjwripl, Virgil, of
tho same century \ tho first Bibl printed at Ment/,
(I boliovo in 1450) ; and a duplicate of t.!u
which had boon dofictont in about twenty
the end. But, ono day, being !n Vmuns hi* luntght u
room full of books arid matmsonpls, -every scrtip ant!
fragment, -for four thousand IOUIB d\*rn, wml Itiwl t!n
doors locked and scaled by tho cowiwl v (hi jtnwni
ing, afterwards, to examine his purrhu. t% |w fouiitl th<
twenty deficient pages of hit* Menu BIbl*\ in j)t*rftttt
order j brought them to Oxf^ml, with flu* p*it of IUH
XII.] UNIVKKBITIKS, 165
purchase, and placed them in the volume j but has too
much awe for the Providence that appears in biblio-
graphy also, to suffer the reunited parts to bo re-bound*
The oldest building here is two hundred years younger
than the frail manuscript brought by Dr. Clarke from
Egypt No candle or lire IB ever lighted in the Bod-
leian, Its catalogue in the standard catalogue on the
dottk of every library iu Oxford, In each several
college they underscore in red ink on this catalogue
the titles of books contained in tlie library of that
collogfl,~~thc theory being that the "Bodleian has all
books. Thin rich library Bpcnt during the last year
(1847) for the purchase of books 1608,
The logical English train a scholar as they train
an engineer, Oxford is a Greek factory, as Wilton
mills weave carpet, and Sheffield grinds steel They
know the use of a tutor, as they know the use of a
horao ; and they draw the greatest amount of benefit
out of both. The reading men are kept, by hard
walking, hard riding, and measured eating and drink-
ing, at. the top of thoir condition, and two days before
the examination do no work, but lounge, ride, or run,
to bo fresh on the college doomsday. Seven years'
residence is the theoretic period for a master's degree,
In point of fact it has long boon three years' residence,
and four years more of standing. This " throe years "
IB about twenty-one months in all 1
" The whole expense," saya Professor Sowel, " of
ordinary college tuition at Oxford is about sixteen
guineas a year/* But this plausible statement may
, ii p. 804*
16G KNULISir T1U.ITH, [mur.
deceive a reader unacquainted with the foot that tlw
principal teaching relied on is private tuition, A in I
the expenses of private tuition are reckoned at. from
50 to 70 a year, or $1000 for the* whole couw of
three years and a hall At (-ambi-id^' $7#Q a year
is economical, and $1500 not extravagant, 1
The number of students and of mwlenls the
dignity of the authorities, the value of the foundu
tions, the history and the art?lntetim, tho known
sympathy of entire Britain in what i done? thtTr,
justify a dedication to study in tho muWtfr
such as cannot easily he in .America, whwe hw
is half suspected by the Fnwhnmtt to lx iiwi^wfirunt,
in the scale beside trade and politica < )xfWd j a
little aristocracy in itself, numorww and dignified
enough to rank with other estates in tho realm ; and
where fame and secular promotion aro to he hud for
study, and in a direction which haa the uimnhmms
respect of all cultivated nationa
This aristocra(5y, of coutit<v ro.puiw it* twn liww ;
fills places, aa they fall vacant, from thti luwly f
students, Tho number of followrthijm at. Oxford i
540, averaging 200 a year, with lodging und flint at
the college. If a young American, loving
and hindered by povoiiy, wtro oll^ral ahnics n
the walks, and tho library, in ono of ilwm tifiid**
palaces, and a thousand dolkrB a ymf m long tw 1
chose to remain a bachelor, h would dimm for joy,
Yet those young men thun hapi>51y ihw*id, mid pml
to read, are impatient of thcnr few h<H*k, ttd many
1 Brwtud. Five Ywira A! un Kugluth llitlv^rslty*
XIL] UNIVERSITIES. 167
of them preparing to resign their fellowships. They
shuddered at the prospect of dying a Fellow, and
they pointed out to me a paralytic old man, who was
assisted into the hall. As the number of undergradu-
ates at Oxford is only about 1200 or 1300, and many
of these are never competitors, the chance of a fellow-
ship is very great. The income of the nineteen
colleges is conjectured at 150,000 a year.
The effect of this drill is the radical knowledge of
Greek and Latin, and of mathematics, and the solidity
and taste of English criticism. Whatever luck there
may be in this or that award, an Eton captain can
write Latin longs and shorts, can turn the Court-Guide
into hexameters, and it is certain that a Senior Classic
can quote correctly from the Corpus Poetamm, and is
critically learned in all the humanities. Greek eru-
dition exists on the Isis and Cam, whether the Maud
man or the Brazen Nose man be properly ranked or
not j the atmosphere is loaded with Greek learning ;
the whole river has reached a certain height, and kills
all that growth of weeds, which this Castalian water
kills. The English nature takes culture kindly. So
Milton thought. It refines the Norseman. Access to
the Greek mind lifts his standard of taste. He has
enough to think of, and, unless of an impulsive nature,
is indisposed from writing or speaking, by the fulness
of his mind and the new severity of his taste. The
great silent crowd of thoroughbred Grecians always
known to be around him, the English writer cannot
ignore. They prune his orations, and point his pen.
Hence the style and tone of English journalism. The
168 ENGLISH TRAITS. [OHA
men have learned accuracy and comprehension, logi
and pace, or speed of working. They have bottoi
endurance, wind. When born with good constitution
they make those eupeptic studying-mills, the cast-ire
men, the dura ilia, whose powers of performance coi
pare with ours, as the steam-hammer with the musi
box ; Cokes, Mansfields, Seldens, and Bentleys, ar
when it happens that a superior brain puts a rider (
this admirable horse, we obtain those masters of tl
world who combine the highest energy in affairs wii
a supreme culture.
It is contended by those who have been bred
Eton, Harrow, Kugby, and Westminster, that t]
public sentiment within each of those schools is hig
toned and manly that, in their playgrounds, coura^
is universally admired, meanness despised, manly fe<
ings and generous conduct are encouraged : that !
unwritten code of honour deals to the spoiled chi
pf rank, and to the child of upstart wealth, an eve
handed justice, purges their nonsense out of both, ai
does all that can be done to make them gentlemen.
Again, at the universities, it is urged that all go
to form what England values as the flower of i
national life, a well-educated gentleman. The Ge
man Huber, in describing to his countrymen t]
attributes of an English gentleman, frankly admi
that " in Germany we have nothing of the kind,
gentleman must possess a political character, an i
dependent and public position, or, at least, the rig
of assuming it. He must have average opulence, eith
of his own or in his family. He should also ha
XII.] UNIVERSITIES. 169
bodily activity and strength, unattainable by our
sedentary life in public offices. The race of English
gentlemen presents an appearance of manly vigour
and form, not elsewhere to be found among an equal
number of persons. No other nation produces the
stock. And, in England, it has deteriorated. The
university is a decided presumption in any man's
favour, And so eminent are the members that a glance
at the calendars will show that in all the world one
cannot be in better company than on the books of
one of the larger Oxford or Cambridge colleges." l
These seminaries are finishing schools for the upper
classes, and not for the poor. The useful is exploded.
The definition of a public school is " a school which
excludes all that could fit a man for standing behind
a counter." 2
No doubt the foundations have been perverted.
Oxford, which equals in wealth several of the smallei
European States, shuts up the lectureships which
were made " public for all men thereunto to have con-
course;" misspends the revenues bestowed for such
youths "as should be most meet for towardness,
poverty, and painfulness ;" there is gross favouritism;
many chairs and many fellowships are made beds of
ease ; and 'tis likely that the university will know how
to resist and make inoperative the terrors of parlia-
mentary inquiry no doubt their learning is grown
1 Huber : History of the English Universities. Newman's
Translation.
2 See Bristed. Five Years in an English University. New
York, 1852.
170 ENGLISH TEAITS. [CHAP,
obsolete ; but Oxford also has its merits, and I found
here also proof of the national fidelity and thorough
ness. Such knowledge as they prize they possess and
impart. Whether in course or by indirection, whethei
by a cramming tutor or by examiners with prizes and
foundation scholarships, education according to the
English notion of it is arrived at. I looked over the
Examination Papers of the year 1848, for the various
scholarships and fellowships, the Lusby, the Hertford,
the Dean-Ireland, and the University (copies of which
were kindly given me by a Greek professor), contain-
ing the tasks which many competitors had victoriously
performed, and I believed they would prove toe
severe tests for the candidates for a Bachelor's degree
in Yale or Harvard. And, in general, here was
proof of a more searching study in the appointed
directions, and the knowledge pretended to be con-
veyed was conveyed. Oxford sends out yearly twenty
or thirty very able men, and three or four hundred
well-educated men.
The diet and rough exercise secure a certain
amount of old Norse power. A fop will fight, and,
in exigent circumstances, will play the manly part,
In seeing these youths, I believed I saw already an
advantage in vigour and colour and general habit,
over their contemporaries in the American colleges.
No doubt much of the power and brilliancy of the
reading -men is merely constitutional or hygienic.
With a hardier habit and resolute gymnastics, with
five miles more walking, or five ounces less eating, or
with a saddle and gallop of twenty miles a day, with
Xii.] UNIVEKSITIES. 171
skating and rowing -matches, the American would
arrive at as robust exegesis, and cheery and hilarious
tone. I should readily concede these advantages,
which it would be easy to acquire, if I did not find
also that they read better than we, and write better.
English wealth falling on their school and univer-
sity training makes a systematic reading of the
best authors, and to the end of a knowledge how
the things " whereof they treat really stand ; whilst
pamphleteer or journalist reading for an argument
for a party, or reading to write, or, at all events, for
some by-end imposed on them, must read meanly
and fragmentarily. Charles I. said that he under-
stood English law as well as a gentleman ought to
understand it.
Then they have access to books ; the rich libraries
collected at every one of many thousands of houses
give an advantage not to be attained by a youth in
this country, when one thinks how much more and
better may be learned by a scholar, who, immediately
on hearing of a book, can consult it, than by one
who is on the quest, for years, and reads inferior
books, because he cannot find the best.
Again, the great number of cultivated men keep
each other up to a high standard. The habit of
meeting well-read and knowing men teaches the art
of omission and selection.
Universities are, of course, hostile to geniuses,
which, seeing and using ways of their own, discredit
the routine : as churches and monasteries persecute
youthful saints. Yet we all send our sons to college,
172 ENGLISH TBAITS. [CHAP
and, though he be a genius, he must take his chance.
The university must be retrospective, The gale that
gives direction to the vanes on all its towers blows
out of antiquity, Oxford is a library, and the
professors must be librarians. And I should as soon
think of quarrelling with the janitor for not magnify-
ing his office by hostile sallies into the street, like the
Governor of Kertch or Kinburn, as of quarrelling
with the professors for not admiring the young
neologists who pluck the beards of Euclid and
Aristotle, or for not attempting themselves to fill
their vacant shelves as original writers.
It is easy to carp at colleges, and the college, if we
will wait for it, will have its own turn. Genius
exists there also, but will not answer a call of a
committee of the House of Commons. It is rare,
precarious, eccentric, and darkling. England is the
land of mixture and surprise, and when you have
settled it that the universities are moribund, out
comes a poetic influence from the heart of Oxford, to
mould the opinions of cities, to build their houses as
simply as birds their nests, to give veracity to art,
and charm mankind, as an appeal to moral order
always must. But besides this restorative genius,
the best poetry of England of this age, in the old
forms, comes from two graduates of Cambridge.
xin.] RELIGION. 173
CHAPTEE XIIL
RELIGION.
No people, at the present day, can be explained by
their national religion. They do not feel responsible
for it ; it lies far outside of them, Their loyalty to
truth, and their labour and expenditure, rest on real
foundations, and not on a national church. And
English life, it is evident, does not grow out of the
Athanasian creed, or the Articles, or the Eucharist.
It is with religion as with marriage. A youth marries
in haste ; afterwards, when his mind is opened to the
reason of the conduct of life, he is asked what he
thinks of the institution of marriage, and of the right
relations of the sexes, "I should have much to say,'
he might reply, " if the question were open, but I have
a wife and children, and all question is closed for me."
In the barbarous days of a nation, some cultus is
formed or imported ; altars are built, tithes are paid,
priests ordained. The education and expenditure of
the country take that direction, and when wealth,
refinement, great men, and ties to the world, super-
vene, its prudent men say, why fight against Fate, or
lift these absurdities which are now mountainous 1
174 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
Better find some niche or crevice in this mountain of
stone which religious ages have quarried and carved,
wherein to bestow yourself, than attempt anything
ridiculously and dangerously above your strength,
like removing it.
In seeing old castles and cathedrals, I sometimes
say, as to-day, in front of Dundee Church tower,
which is eight hundred years old, " This was built by
another and a better race than any that now look on
it." And, plainly, there has been great power of
sentiment at work in this island, of which these build-
ings are the proofs : as volcanic basalts show the work
of fire which has been extinguished for ages. England
felt the full heat of the Christianity which fermented
Europe, and drew, like the chemistry of fire, a firm
line between barbarism and culture, The power of
the religious sentiment put an end to human sacrifices,
checked appetite, inspired the crusades, inspired resist-
ance to tyrants, inspired self-respect, set bounds to
serfdom and slavery, founded liberty, created the re-
ligious architecture, York, Newstead, Westminster,
Fountains Abbey, Eipon, Beverley, and Dundee,
works to which the key is lost, with the sentiment
which created them ; inspired the English Bible, the
liturgy, the monkish histories, the chronicle of Eichard
of Devizes. The priest translated the Vulgate, and
translated the sanctities of old hagiology into English
virtues on English ground. It was a certain affirmative
or aggressive state of the Caucasian races. Man awoke
refreshed by the sleep of ages. The violence of the
northern savages exasperated Christianity into power,
xni.] RELIGION. 175
It lived by the love of the people. Bishop Wilfrid
manumitted two hundred and fifty serfs, whom he
found attached to the soil. The clergy obtained re-
spite from labour for the boor on the Sabbath, and on
church festivals. " The lord who compelled his boor
to labour between sunset on Saturday and sunset on
Sunday, forfeited him altogether." The priest came
out of the people, and sympathised with his class.
The church was the mediator, check, and democratic
principle, in Europe. Latimer, Wicliflfe, Arundel,
Cobham, Antony Parsons, Sir Harry Vane, George
Fox, Penn, Bunyan, are the democrats, as well as the
saints of their times. The Catholic church, thrown
on this toiling, serious people, has made in fourteen
centuries a massive system, close fitted to the manners
and genius of the country, at once domestical and
stately. In the long time, it has blended with every-
thing in heaven above and the earth beneath. It
moves through a zodiac of feasts and fasts, names
every day of the year, every town and market, and
headland and monument, and has coupled itself with
the almanac, that no court can be held, no field
ploughed, no horse shod, without some leave from the
church. All maxims of prudence or shop or farm are
fixed and dated by the church. Hence its strength
in the agricultural districts. The distribution of land
into parishes enforces a church sanction to every civil
privilege ; and the gradation of the clergy, prelates
for the rich, and curates for the poor, with the fact
that a classical education has been secured to the
clergyman, makes them "the link which unites thf
176 ENGLISH TKAITS. [CHAP.
sequestered peasantry with the intellectual advance-
ment of the age." 1
The English church has many certificates to show,
of humble effective service in humanising the people,
in cheering and refining men, feeding, healing, and
educating. It has the seal of martyrs and confessors ;
the noblest books ; a sublime architecture; a ritual
marked by the same secular merits, nothing cheap or
purchasable.
From this slow-grown church important reactions
proceed ; much for culture, much for giving a direc-
tion to the nation's affection and will to-day. The
carved and pictured chapel, its entire surface ani-
mated with image and emblem, made the parish-
church a sort of book and Bible to the people's eye,
Then, when the Saxon instinct had secured a
service in the vernacular tongue, it was the tutor and
university of the people. In York Minster, on the
day of the enthronisation of the new archbishop, I
heard the service of evening prayer read and chanted
in the choir. It was strange to hear the pretty pas-
toral of the betrothal of Eebecca and Isaac, in the
morning of the world, read with circumstantiality in
York Minster, on the 13th January 1848, to the
decorous English audience, just fresh from the Times
newspaper and their wine, and listening with all the
devotion of national pride. That was binding old
and new to some purpose. The reverence for the
Scriptures is an element of civilisation, for thus has
the history of the world been preserved, and is pre-
1 Wordsworth.
xiil.] RELIGION. 177
served. Here in England every day a chapter of
Genesis and a leader in the Times.
Another part of the same service on this occasion
was not insignificant. Handel's coronation anthem,
God save the- King, was played by Dr. Oamidge on the
organ, with sublime effect. The minster and the
music were made for each other. It was a hint of
the part the church plays as a political engine. From
his infancy, every Englishman is accustomed to hear
daily prayers for the Queen, for the royal family and
the Parliament, by name \ and this life-long consecra-
tion of these personages cannot be without influence
on his opinions.
The universities, also, are parcel of the ecclesias-
tical system, and their first design is to form the
clergy. Thus the clergy for a thousand years have
been the scholars of the nation,
The national temperament deeply enjoys the un-
broken order and tradition of its church ; the liturgy,
ceremony, architecture; the sober grace, the good
company, the connection with the throne, and with
history, which adorn it. And whilst it endears itself
thus to men of more taste than activity, the stability
of the English nation is passionately enlisted to its
support, from its inextricable connection with the cause
of public order, with politics and with the funds.
Good churches are not built by bad men ; at least,
there must be probity and enthusiasm somewhere in
the society. These minsters were neither built nor
filled by atheists. No church has had more learned,
VOL. IV. N
178 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
industrious, or devoted men ; plenty of " clerks and
bishops, who, out of their gowns, would turn their
backs on no man." 1 Their architecture still glows
with faith in immortality. Heats and genial periods
arrive in history, or, shall we say, plenitudes of
Divine Presence, by which high tides are caused in
the human spirit, and great virtues and talents appear,
as in the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, and again in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when the nation
was full of genius and piety.
But the age of the WiclnTes, Cobhams, Arundels,
Beckets; of the Latimers, Mores, Cranmers; of the
Taylors, Leightons, Herberts; of the Sherlocks, and
Butlers, is gone. Silent revolutions in opinion have
made it impossible that men like these should return,
or find a place in their once sacred stalls. The spirit
that dwelt in this church has glided away to animate
other activities; and they who come to the old shrines
find apes and players rustling the old garments.
The religion of England is part of good breeding.
When you see on the Continent the well-dressed
Englishman come into his ambassador's chapel, and
put his face for silent prayer into his smooth-brushed
hat, one cannot help feeling how much national pride
prays with him, and the religion of a gentleman. So
far is he from attaching any meaning to the words,
that he believes himself to have done almost the
generous thing, and that it is very condescending in
him to pray to God. A great duke said, on the
occasion of a victory, in the House of Lords, that he
1 Fuller.
XIIL] BELIGIOtf. 179
thought the Almighty God had not been well used by
them, and that it would become their magnanimity,
after so great successes, to take order that a proper
acknowledgment be made. It is the church of the
gentry; but it is not the church of the poor. The
operatives do not own it, and gentlemen lately testi-
fied in the House of Commons that in their lives they
never saw a poor man in a ragged coat inside a church,
The torpidity on the side of religion of the vigor-
ous English understanding shows how much wit and
folly can agree in one brain. Their religion is a
quotation ; their church is a doll ; and any examina-
tion is interdicted with screams of terror. In good
company, you expect them to laugh at the fanaticism
of the vulgar ; but they do not : they are the vulgar.
The English, in common perhaps with Christendom
in the nineteenth century, do not respect power, but
only performance ; value ideas only for an economic
result. Wellington esteems a saint only as far as he
can be an army chaplain: "Mr. Briscoll, by his
admirable conduct and good sense, got the better of
Methodism which had appeared among the soldiers,
and once among the officers/' They value a philo-
sopher as they value an apothecary who brings bark
or a drench ; and inspiration is only some blowpipe,
or a finer mechanical aid.
I suspect that there is in an Englishman's brain a
valve that can be closed at pleasure, as an engineer
shuts off steam. The most sensible and well-informed
men possess the power of thinking just so far as the
bishop in religious matters, and as the chancellor of
180 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
the exchequer in politics. They talk with courage
and logic, and show you magnificent results, but the
same men who have brought free trade or geology to
their present standing, look grave and lofty, and
shut down their valve, as soon as the conversation
approaches the English church. After that, you talk
with a box-turtle.
The action of the university, both in what is
taught, and in the spirit of the place, is directed
more on producing an English gentleman than a
saint or a psychologist. It ripens a bishop and
extrudes a philosopher. I do not know that there
is more cabalism in the Anglican than in other
churches, but the Anglican clergy are identified with
the aristocracy. They say, here, that, if you talk
with a clergyman, you are sure to find him well-
bred, informed, and candid. He entertains your
thought or your project, with sympathy and praise.
But if a second clergyman come in, the sympathy
is at an end : two together are inaccessible to your
thought, and, whenever it comes to action, the
clergyman invariably sides with his church.
The Anglican church is marked by the grace and
good sense of its forms, by the manly grace -of its
clergy. The gospel it preaches is, "By taste are ye
saved." It keeps the old structures in repair, spends
a world of money in music and building; and in
buying Pugin, and architectural literature. It has a
general good name for amenity and mildness. It is
not in ordinary a persecuting church; it is not
inquisitorial, not even inquisitive, is perfectly well-
RELIGION. 181
bred, and can shut its eyes on all proper occasions.
If you let it alone, it will let you alone. But its
instinct is hostile to all change in politics, literature,
or social arts. The church has not been the founder
of the London University, of the Mechanics' Institutes,
of the Free School, or whatever aims at diffusion of
knowledge. The Platonists of Oxford are as bitter
against this heresy as Thomas Taylor.
The doctrine of the Old Testament is the religion
of England. The first leaf of the ISTew Testament it
does not open. It believes in a Providence which does
not treat with levity a pound sterling. They are
neither transcendentalists nor Christians. They put
up no Socratic prayer, much less any saintly prayer
for the queen's mind ; ask neither for light nor right,
but say bluntly, "grant her in health and wealth
long to live." And one traces this Jewish prayer in
all English private history, from the prayers of King
Richard, in Richard of Devizes' Chronicle, to those
in the diaries of Sir Samuel Romilly, and of Haydon
the painter. "Abroad with my wife," writes Pepys
piously, " the first time that ever I rode in my own
coach; which do make my heart rejoice and praise
God, and pray him to bless it to me, and continue
it." The bill for the naturalisation of the Jews (in
1753) was resisted by petitions from all parts of the
kingdom, and by petition from the City of London,
reprobating this bill, as "tending extremely to the
dishonour of the Christian religion, and extremely in-
jurious to the interests and commerce of the kingdom
in general, and of the City of London in particular."
182 ENGLISH TftAITS. [CHAP.
But they have not been able to congeal humanity
by act of Parliament. "The heavens journey still
and sojourn not," and arts, wars, discoveries, and
opinion, go onward at their own pace. The new
age has new desires, new enemies, new trades, new
charities, and reads the Scriptures with new eyes.
The chatter of French politics, the steam -whistle,
the hum of the mill, and the noise of embarking
emigrants, had quite put most of the old legends out
of mind ; so that when you came to read the liturgy
to a modern congregation, it was almost absurd in
its unfitness, and suggested a masquerade of old
costumes.
No chemist has prospered in the attempt to
crystallise a religion. It is endogenous, like the
skin, and other vital organs. A new statement
every day. The prophet and apostle knew this, and
the nonconformist confutes the conformists, by quoting
the texts they must allow. It is the condition of a
religion to require religion for its expositor. Prophet
and apostle can only be rightly understood by prophet
and apostle. The statesman knows that the religious
element will not fail, any more than the supply of
fibrine and chyle ; but it is in its nature constructive,
and will organise such a church as it wants. The
wise legislator will spend on temples, schools, libraries,
colleges, but will shun the enriching of priests. If,
in any manner, he can leave the election and paying
of the priest to the people, he will do well. Like the
Quakers, he may resist the separation of a class of
priests, and create opportunity and expectation in the
XIIL] KELIGION. 183
society, to run to meet natural endowment, in this
kind. But, when wealth accrues to a chaplaincy,
a bishopric, or rectorship, it requires moneyed men
for its stewards, who will give it another direction
than to the mystics of their day. Of course, money
will do after its kind, and will steadily work to
unspiritualise and unchurch the people to whom it
was bequeathed. The class certain to be excluded
from all preferment are the religious, and driven to
other churches ; which is nature's vis medicatrix.
The curates are ill paid, and the prelates are over-
paid. This abuse draws into the church the children
of the nobility, and other unfit persons, who have a
taste for expense. Thus a bishop is only a surpliced
merchant. Through his lawn I can see the brighi
buttons of the shopman's coat glitter. A wealth like
that of Durham makes almost a premium on felony.
Brougham, in a speech in the House of Commons on
the Irish elective franchise, said, "How will the
reverend bishops of the other house be able to express
their due abhorrence of the crime of perjury, who
solemnly declare in the presence of God, that when
they are called upon to accept a living, perhaps of
4000 a year, at that very instant they are moved by
the Holy Ghost to accept the office and administra-
tion thereof, and for no other reason whatever 1 ?"
The modes of initiation are more damaging than
custom-house oaths, The Bishop is elected by the
Dean and Prebends of the cathedral. The Queen
sends these gentlemen a <mgi d'&lire, or leave to elect,
but also sends them the name of the person whom
184 ENGLISH TRAITS, [CHAP.
they are to elect. They go into the cathedral, chant
and pray, and beseech the Holy Ghost to assist them
in their choice ; and, after these invocations, invari-
ably find that the dictates of the Holy Ghost agree
with the recommendations of the Queen.
But you must pay for conformity. All goes well
as long as you run with conformists. But you, who
are honest men in other particulars, know that there
Is alive somewhere a man whose honesty reaches to
this point also, that he shall not kneel to false gods,
and, on the day when you meet him, you sink into
the class of counterfeits. Besides, this succumbing
has grave penalties. If you take in a lie, you must
take in all that belongs to it. England accepts this
ornamented national church, and it glazes the eyes,
bloats the flesh, gives the voice a stertorous clang, and
clouds the understanding of the receivers.
The English church, undermined by Gorman
criticism, had nothing left but tradition, and was led
logically back to Bomanism. But that was an element
which only hot heads could breathe : in view of the
educated class, generally, it was not a fact to front
the sun; and the alienation of such men from the
church became complete.
Nature, to be sure, had her remedy. Keligious
persons are driven out of the Established Church into
sects, which instantly rise to credit, and hold the
Establishment in check, Nature has sharper remedies
also. The English, abhorring change in all things,
abhorring it most in matters of religion, cling to the
last rag of form, and are dreadfully given to cant
xni. 1 KELIGION. 185
The English (and I wish it were confined to them,
but 'tis a taint in the Anglo-Saxon blood in both
hemispheres), the English and the Americans cant
beyond all other nations. The French relinquish all
that industry to them. What is so odious as the
polite bows to God, in our books and newspapers?
The popular press is flagitious in the exact measure
of its sanctimony, and the religion of the day is a
theatrical Sinai, where the thunders are supplied by
the property -man. The fanaticism and hypocrisy
create satire. Punch finds an inexhaustible material
Dickens writes novels on Exeter -Hall humanity,
Thackeray exposes the heartless high life. Nature
revenges herself more summarily by the heathenism
of the lower classes. Lord Shaftesbury calls the poor
thieves together, and reads sermons to them, and they
call it "gas." George Borrow summons the Gypsies
to hear his discourse on the Hebrews in Egypt, and
reads to them the Apostles' Creed in Rommany.
"When I had concluded," he says, "I looked around
me. The features of the assembly were twisted, and
the eyes of all turned upon me with a frightful
squint : not an individual present but squinted ; the
genteel Pepa, the good-humoured Chicharona, the
Cosdami, all squinted : the Gypsy jockey squinted
worst of all."
The church at this moment is much to be pitied
She has nothing left but possession. If a bishop
meets an intelligent gentleman, and reads fatal inter
rogations in his eyes, he has no resource but to take
wine with him. False position introduces cant,
186 ENGLISH TRAITS.
perjury, simony, and ever a lower class of mind and
character, into the clergy; and, when the hierarchy is
afraid of science and education, afraid of piety, afraid
of tradition, and afraid of theology, there is nothing
left but to quit a church which is no longer one.
But the religion of England, is it the Established
Church 1 no ; is it the sects ? no ; they are only per-
petuations of some private man's dissent, and arc to
the Established Church as cabs are to a coach, choapet
and more convenient, but really the same thing.
Where dwells the religion? Tell me first where
dwells electricity, or motion, or thought, or gesture.
They do not dwell or stay at all. Electricity cannot
be made fast, mortared up and ended, like London
Monument, or the Tower, so that you shall know
where to find it, and keep it fixed, as the English do
with their things, for evermore ; it is passing, glancing,
gesticular ; it is a traveller, a newness, a surprise, a
secret, which perplexes them and puts them out
Yet, if religion be the doing of all good, and for its
sake the suffering of all evil, souffrir de tout le mnde et
nefaire souffrir persowe, that divine secret has existed
in England from the days of Alfred to those of
Romilly, of Clarkson, and of Florence Nightingale,
and in thousands who have no fame,
xiv. J LITERATURE. 1 87
CHAPTER XIV.
LITERATURE.
A STRONG common sense, wliich it is not easy to
unseat or disturb, marks the English mind for a
thousand years: a rude strength newly applied to
thought, as of sailors and soldiers who had lately
learned to read. They have no fancy, and never are
surprised into a covert or witty word, such as pleased
the Athenians and Italians, and was convertible into a
fable not long after j but they delight in strong earthy
expression, not mistakable, coarsely true to the human
body, and, though spoken among princes, equally fit
and welcome to the mob. This homeliness, veracity,
and plain style, appear in the earliest extant works,
and in the latest. It imports into songs and ballads
the smell of the earth, the breath of cattle, and, Eke
a Dutch painter, seeks a household charm, though by
pails and pans. They ask their constitutional utility
in verse. The kail and herrings are never out of
sight. The poet nimbly recovers himself from every
sally of the imagination. The English muse loves the
farm-yard, the lane, and market. She says, with De
Stae'l, "I tramp in the mire with wooden shoes, when-
188 EN&LISH TEAITS. L OHAP.
ever they would force me into the clouds." For the
Englishman has accurate perceptions ; takes hold of
things by the right end, and there is no slipperiness in
his grasp. He loves the axe, the spade, the oar, the
gun, the steam-pipe : he has built the engine he uses.
He is materialist, economical, mercantile. He must
be treated with sincerity and reality, with muffins,
and not the promise of muffins ; and prefers his hot
chop, with perfect security and convenience in the
eating of it, to the chances of the amplest and
Frenchiest bill of fare engraved on embossed paper.
When he is intellectual, and a poet or a philosopher,
he carries the same hard truth and the same keen
machinery into the mental sphere. His mind must
stand on a fact. He will not be baffled, or catch at
clouds, but the mind must have a symbol palpable
and resisting. What he relishes in Dante is the vice-
like tenacity with which he holds a mental image
before the eyes, as if it were a scutcheon painted on
a shield. Byron "liked something craggy to break
his mind upon." A taste for plain strong speech,
what is called a biblical style, marks the English,
It is in Alfred, and the Saxon Chronicle, and in the
Sagas of the Northmen. Latimer was homely,
Hobbes was perfect in the "noble vulgar speech/'
Donne, Bunyan, Milton, Taylor, Evelyn, Pepys,
Hooker, Cotton, and the translators, wrote it. How
realistic or materialistic in treatment of his sub-
ject is Swift. He describes his fictitious persons
as if for the police. Defoe has no insecurity or
choice. Hudibras has the same hard mentality,
LITERATURE. 189
keeping the truth at once to the senses and to the
intellect.
It is not less seen in poetry. Chaucer's hard paint-
ing of his Canterbury pilgrims satisfies the senses.
Shakspeare, Spenser, and Milton, in their loftiest
ascents, have this national grip and exactitude of mind.
This mental materialism makes the value of English
transcendental genius ; in these writers, and in Her-
bert, Henry More, Donne, and Sir Thomas Browne.
The Saxon materialism and narrowness, exalted into
the sphere of intellect, makes the very genius of
Shakspeare and Milton. When it reaches the pure
element, it treads the clouds as securely as the ada-
mant. Even in its elevations materialistic, its poetry
is common sense inspired; or iron raised to white
heat.
The marriage of the two qualities is in their speech,
It is a tacit rule of the language to make the frame
or skeleton of Saxon words, and, when elevation or
ornament is sought, to interweave Eoman ; but spar-
ingly ; nor is a sentence made of Eoman words alone,
without loss of strength. The children and labourers
use the Saxon unmixed. The Latin unmixed is
abandoned to the colleges and Parliament. Mixture
is a secret of the English island ; and, in their dialect,
the male principle is the Saxon ; the female, the Latin ;
and they are combined in every discourse. A good
writer, if he has indulged in a Eoman roundness,
makes haste to chasten and nerve his period by English
monosyllables.
When the Gothic nations came into Europe, they
190 ENGLISH TEAITS. [CHAP.
found it lighted with the sun and moon of Hebrew
and of Greek genius. The tablets of their brain, long
kept in the dark, were finely sensible to the double
glory. To the images from this twin source (of
Christianity and art), the mind became fruitful as by
the incubation of the Holy Ghost. The English mind
flowered in every faculty. The common sense was
surprised and inspired. For two centuries, England
was philosophic, religious, poetic. The mental furni-
ture seemed of larger scale; the memory capacious
like the storehouse of the rains ; the ardour and en-
durance of study ; the boldness and facility of their
mental construction; their fancy, and imagination,
and easy spanning of vast distances of thought ; the
enterprise or accosting of new subjects ; and, generally,
the easy exertion of power, astonish, like the legend-
ary feats of Guy of Warwick. The union of Saxon pre-
cision and oriental soaring, of which Shakspeare is the
perfect example, is shared in less degree by the writers
of two centuries. I find not only the great masters out
of all rivalry and reach, but the whole writing of the
time charged with a masculine force and freedom.
There is a hygienic simpleness, rough vigour, and
closeness to the matter in hand, even in the second
and third class of writers ; and, I think, in the common
style of the people, as one finds it in the citation of
wills, letters, and public documents, in proverbs, and
forms of speech. The more hearty and sturdy ex-
pression may indicate that the savageness of the
Norseman was not all gone. Their dynamic brains
hurled off their words, as the revolving stone hurls
xiv.] LITERATURE. 191
off scraps of grit. I could cite from the seventeenth
century sentences and phrases of edge not to be
matched in the nineteenth. Their poets by simple
force o'f mind equalised themselves with the accumu-
lated science of ours. The country gentlemen had a
posset or drink they called October ; and the poets,
as if by this hint, knew how to distil the whole season
into their autumnal verses : and as nature, to pique
the more, sometimes works up deformities into beauty,
in some rare Aspasia or Cleopatra ; and as the Greek
art wrought many a vase or column, in which too long,
or too lithe, or nodes, or pits and flaws, are made a
beauty of ; so these were so quick and vital, that they
could charm and enrich by mean and vulgar objects.
A man must think that age well taught and
thoughtful, by which masques and poems, like those
of Ben Jonson, full of heroic sentiment in a manly
style, were received with favour. The unique fact in
literary history, the unsurprised reception of Shak-
speare; the reception proved by his making his
fortune ; and the apathy proved by the absence of all
contemporary panegyric, seems to demonstrate an
elevation in the mind of the people. Judge of the
splendour of a nation by the insignificance of great
individuals in it. The manner in which they learned
Greek and Latin, before our modern facilities were
yet ready, without dictionaries, grammars, or indexes,
by lectures of a professor, followed by their own search-
ings, required a more robust memory, and co-opera-
tion of all the faculties ; and their scholars Oamden,
Usher, Selclen, Mede, Grataker, Hooker, Taylor, Bur-
192 ENGLISH TEAITS. [CHAP.
ton, Bentley, Brian Walton acquired the solidity and
method of engineers.
The influence of Plato tinges the British genius.
Their minds loved analogy; were cognisant of re-
semblances, and climbers on the staircase of unity.
Tis a very old strife between those who elect to see
identity, and those who elect to see discrepancies ;
and it renews itself in Britain. The poets, of course,
are of one part \ the men of the world of the other.
But Britain had many disciples of Plato; More,
Hooker, Bacon, Sidney, Lord Brooke, Herbert, Browne,
Donne, Spenser, Chapman, Milton, Orashaw, Nonas,
Cudworth, Berkeley, Jeremy Taylor.
Lord Bacon has the English duality. His centuries
of observations on useful science, and his experiments,
I suppose, were worth nothing. One hint of Franklin,
or Watt, or Dalton, or Davy, or any one who had a
talent for experiment, was worth all his lifetime of
exquisite trifles. But he drinks of a diviner stream,
and marks the influx of idealism into England,
Where that goes, is poetry, health, and progress.
The rules of its genesis or its diffusion are not known.
That knowledge, if we had it, would supersede all
that we call science of the mind. It seems an affair
of race, or of meta-chemistry ; the vital point being,
how far the sense of unity, or instinct of seeking
resemblances, predominated. For, wherever the mind
takes a step, it is to put itself at one with a larger
class, discerned beyond the lesser class with which it
has been conversant. Hence all poetry and all
affirmative action come.
xiv.] LITEKATURE. 193
Bacon, in the structure of his mind, held of the
analogists, of the idealists, or (as we popularly say,
naming from the best example) Platonists. Whoever
discredits analogy, and requires heaps of facts, before
any theories can be attempted, has no poetic power,
and nothing original or beautiful will be produced by
him. Locke is as surely the influx of decomposition
and of prose, as Bacon and the Platonists of growth.
The platonic is the poetic tendency; the so-called
scientific is the negative and poisonous. 'Tis quite
certain that Spenser, Burns, Byron, and Wordsworth
will be Platonists; and that the dull men will be
Lockists. Then politics and commerce will absorb
from the educated class men of talents without
genius, precisely because such have no resistance.
Bacon, capable of ideas, yet devoted to ends, re-
quired, in his map of the mind, first of all, universality
or prima philosophia, the receptacle for all such profit-
able observations and axioms as fall not within the
compass of any of the special parts of philosophy,
but are more common, and of a higher stage. He
held this element essential : it is never out of mind :
he never spares rebukes for such as neglect it ; be-
lieving that no perfect discovery can be made in a flat
or level, but you must ascend to a higher science.
" If any man thinketh philosophy and universality to
be idle studies, he doth not consider that all profes-
sions are from thence served and supplied, and this
I take to be a great cause that has hindered the
progression of learning, because these fundamental
knowledges have been studied but in passage." He
VOL. IV. O
194 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAI-.
explained himself by giving various quaint examples
of the summary or common laws, of which each science
has its own illustration. He complains that " he finds
this part of learning very deficient, the profounder
sort of wits drawing a bucket now and then for their
own use, but the spring-head unvisited. This was the
dry light which did scorch and offend most men's watery
natures." Plato had signified the same sense, when
he said, "All the great arts require a subtle and specu-
lative research into the law of nature, since loftiness
of thought and perfect mastery over every subject
seem to be derived from some such source as this.
This Pericles had, in addition to a great natural
genius. For, meeting with Anaxagoras, who was a
person of this kind, he attached himself to him, and
nourished himself with sublime speculations on the
absolute intelligence : and imported thence into the
oratorical art whatever could be useful to it."
A few generalisations always circulate in the world,
whose authors we do not rightly know, which astonish,
and appear to be avenues to vast kingdoms of thought,
and these are in the world constants, like the Coperni-
can and Newtonian theories in physics. In England,
these may be traced usually to Shakspeare, Bacon,
Milton, or Hooker, even to Van Helmont and Behmen,
and do all have a kind of filial retrospect to Plato and
the Greeks. Of this kind is Lord Bacon's sentence,
that " nature is commanded by obeying her;" his
doctrine of poetry, which " accommodates the shows
of things to the desires of the mind," or the Zoroas-
triau definition of poetry, mystical, yet exact, "apparent
xiv,] LITERATURE. 195
pictures of unapparent natures;'* Spenser's creed,,
that "soul is form, and doth the body make;" the
theory of Berkeley, that we have no certain assurance
of the existence of matter; Doctor Samuel Clarke's
argument for theism from the nature of space and
time; Harrington's political rule, that power must
rest on land, -a rule which requires to be liberally
interpreted ; the theory of Swedenborg, so cosmically
applied by him, that the man makes his heaven and
hell ; Hegel's study of civil history, as the conflict of
ideas and the victory of the deeper thought; the
identity-philosophy of Schelling, couched in the state-
ment that " all difference is quantitative." So the very
announcement of the theory of gravitation, of Kepler's
three harmonic laws, and even of Dalton's doctrine
of definite proportions, finds a sudden response in the
mind, which remains a superior evidence to empirical
demonstrations. I cite these generalisations, some of
which are more recent, merely to indicate a class,
Not these particulars, but the mental plane or the
atmosphere from which they emanate, was the home
and element of the writers and readers in what we
loosely call the Elizabethan age (say, in literary
history, the period from 1575 to 1625), yet a period
almost short enough to justify Ben Jonson's remark
on Lord Bacon: "about his time, and within his
view, were born all the wits that could honour a nation
or help study."
Such richness of genius had not existed more than
once before. These heights could not be maintained.
As we find stumps of vast trees in our exhausted soils.
196 ENGLISH TEAITS. [CHAP
and have received traditions of their ancient fertility
to tillage, so history reckons epochs in which the
intellect of famed races became effete. So it fared
with English genius. These heights were followed
by a meanness, and a descent of the mind into lower
levels ; the loss of wings ; no high speculation. Locke,
to whom the meaning of ideas was unknown, became
the type of philosophy, and his "Understanding " the
measure, in aU nations, of the English intellect. His
countrymen forsook the lofty sides of Parnassus, on
which they had once walked with echoing steps, and
disused the studies once so beloved; the powers of
thought fell into neglect. The later English want
the faculty of Plato and Aristotle, of grouping men
in natural classes by an insight of general laws, so
deep, that the rule is deduced with equal precision
from few subjects or from one, as from multitudes of
lives. Shakspeare is supreme in that, as in all the
great mental energies. The Germans generalise : the
English cannot interpret the German mind. German
science comprehends the English. The absence of the
faculty in England is shown by the timidity which
accumulates mountains of facts, as a bad general wants
myriads of men and miles of redoubts, to compensate
the inspirations of courage and conduct.
The English shrink from a generalisation. " They
do not look abroad into universality, or they draw
only a bucketful at the fountain of the First Philo-
sophy for their occasion, and do not go to the sprin^
head." Bacon, who said this, is almost unique amon^
his countrymen in that faculty, at least among the
LITEBATURE. 197
prose -writers. Milton, who was the stair or high
table-land to let down the English genius from the
summits of Shakspeare, used this privilege sometimes
in poetry, more rarely in prose. For a long interval
afterwards it is not found. Burke was addicted to
generalising, but his was a shorter line; as his thoughts
have less depth, they have less compass. Hume's
abstractions are not deep or wise. He owes his fame
to one keen observation, that no copula had been
detected between any cause and effect, either in
physics or in thought ; that the term cause and effect
was loosely or gratuitously applied to what we know
only as consecutive, not at all as causal. Doctor
Johnson's written abstractions have little value : the
tone of feeling in them makes their chief worth.
Mr. Hallam, a learned and elegant scholar, has
written the history of European literature for three
centuries, a performance of great ambition, inasmuch
as a judgment was to be attempted on every book.
But his eye does not reach to the ideal standards : the
verdicts are all dated from London : all new thought
must be cast into the old moulds. The expansive
element which creates literature is steadily denied.
Plato is resisted, and his school. Hallam is uniformly
polite, but with deficient sympathy ; writes with
resolute generosity, but is unconscious of the deep
worth which lies in the mystics, and which often out-
values as a seed of power and a source of revolution
all the correct writers and shining reputations of their
day. He passes in silence, or dismisses with a kind
of contempt, the profounder masters : a lover of ideas
198 ENGLISH TRAITS. [GHAT?.
is not only uncongenial, but unintelligible. Hallam
inspires respect by Ms knowledge and fidelity, by his
manifest love of good books, and lie lifts himself to
own better than almost any the greatness of Shak-
speare, and better than Johnson he appreciates Milton.
But in Hallam, or in the firmer intellectual nerve of
Mackintosh, one still finds the same type of English
genius. It is wise and rich, but it lives on its capital.
It is retrospective. How can it discern and hail the
new forms that are looming up on the horizon, new
and gigantic thoughts which cannot dress themselves
out of any old wardrobe of the past ?
The essays, the fiction, and the poetry of the day
have the like municipal limits. Dickens, with preter-
natural apprehension of the language of manners, and
the varieties of street life, with pathos and laughter,
with patriotic and still enlarging generosity, writes
London tracts. He is a painter of English details,
like Hogarth; local and temporary in his tints and
style, and local in his aims. Bulwer, an industrious
writer, with occasional ability, is distinguished for his
reverence of intellect as a temporality, and appeals
to the worldly ambition of the student. His romances
tend to fan these low flames. Their novelists despair
of the heart. Thackeray finds that God has made no
allowance for the poor thing in his universe ; more's
the pity, he thinks ; but 'tis not for us to be wiser :
we must renounce ideals, and accept London.
The brilliant Macaulay, who expresses the tone of
the English governing classes of the day, explicitly
teaches that good means good to eat, good to wear,
xiv.] LITERATURE. 199
material commodity ; that the glory of modern philo-
sophy is its direction on "fruit; 35 to yield economical
inventions ; and that its merit is to avoid ideas, and
avoid morals. He thinks it the distinctive merit of
the Baconian philosophy, in its triumph over the old
Platonic, its disentangling the intellect from theories
of the all-Fair and all-G-ood, and pinning it down to
the making a better sick chair and a better wine-whey
for an invalid; this not ironically, but in good faith;
that, " solid advantage," as he calls it, meaning
always sensual benefit, is the only good. The emi-
nent benefit of astronomy is the better navigation it
creates to enable the fruit-ships to bring home their
lemons and wine to the London grocer. It was a
curious result, in which the civility and religion of
England for a thousand years ends in denying
morals, and reducing the intellect to a sauce -pan.
The critic hides his scepticism under the English cant
of practical. To convince the reason, to touch the
conscience, is romantic pretension. The fine arts fall
to the ground. Beauty, except as luxurious commo-
dity, does not exist. It is very certain, I may say in
passing, that if Lord Bacon had been only the sensu-
alist his critic pretends, he would never have acquired
the fame which now entitles him to this patronage.
It is because he had imagination, the leisures of the
spirit, and basked in an element of contemplation out
of all modern English atmospheric gauges, that he
is impressive to the imaginations of men, and has
become a potentate not to be ignored. Sir David
Brewster sees the high place of Bacon, without find-
200 ENGLISH TRAITS.
ing Newton indebted to him, and thinks it a mistake,
Bacon occupies it by specific gravity or levity, not
by any feat he did, or by any tutoring more or less
of Newton, etc., but an effect of the same cause, which
showed itself more pronounced afterwards in Hooke,
Boyle, and Halley.
Coleridge, a catholic mind, with a hunger for ideas,
with eyes looking before and after to the highest
bards and sages, and who wrote and spoke the only
high criticism in his time, is one of those who save
England from the reproach of no longer possessing
the capacity to appreciate what rarest wit the island
has yielded. Yet the misfortune of his life, his vast
attempts but most inadequate performings, failing
to accomplish any one masterpiece, seems to mark
the closing of an era, Even in him, the traditional
Englishman was too strong for the philosopher, and
he fell into accommodations : and, as Burke had striven
to idealise the English State, so Coleridge " narrowed
his mind" in the attempt to reconcile the Gothic rule
and dogma of the Anglican Church with eternal
ideas. But for Coleridge, and a lurking taciturn
minority, uttering itself in occasional criticism, oftener
in private discourse, one would say that in Germany
and in America is the best mind in England rightly
respected. It is the surest sign of national decay,
when the Brahmins can no longer read or understand
the Brahminical philosophy.
In the decomposition and asphyxia that followed
all this materialism, Carlyle was driven, by his disgust
at the pettiness and the cant, into the preaching of
xiv.] LITERATURE. 201
Fate. In comparison with all this rottenness, any
check, any cleansing, though by fire, seemed desir-
able and beautiful. He saw little difference in the
gladiators, or the " causes " for which they combated ;
the one comfort was, that they were all going speedily
into the abyss together : And his imagination, finding
no nutriment in any creation, avenged itself by cele-
brating the majestic beauty of the laws of decay.
The necessities of mental structure force all minds
into a few categories, and where impatience of the
tricks of men makes Nemesis amiable, and builds
altars to the negative Deity, the inevitable recoil is
to heroism or the gallantry of the private heart, which
decks its immolation with glory, in the unequal com-
bat of will against fate.
Wilkinson, the editor of Swedenborg, the annotator
of Fourier, and the champion of Hahnemann, has
brought to metaphysics and to physiology a native
vigour, with a catholic perception of relations, equal
to the highest attempts, and a rhetoric like the
armoury of the invincible knights of old. There is in
the action of his mind a long Atlantic roll not known
except in deepest waters, and only lacking what ought
to accompany such powers, a manifest centrality. If
his mind does not rest in immovable biases, perhaps
the orbit is larger, and the return is not yet : but a
master should inspire a confidence that he will adhere
to his convictions, and give his present studies always
the same high place.
It would be easy to add exceptions to the limitary
tone of English thought, and much more easy to
202 ENGLISH TRAITS. L CHAP<
adduce examples of excellence in particular veins :
and if, going out of the region of dogma, we pass into
that of general culture, there is no end to the graces
and amenities, wit, sensibility, and erudition, o the
learned class. But the artificial succour wHch marks
all English performance, appears in letters also : much
of their aesthetic production is antiquarian and manu-
factured, and literary reputations have been achieved
by forcible men, whose relation to literature was
purely accidental, but who were driven by tastes and
modes they found in vogue into their several careers.
So, at this moment, every ambitious young man
studies geology : so members of Parliament are made,
and churchmen.
The bias of Englishmen to practical skill has re-
acted on the national mind. They are incapable of
an inutility, and respect the five mechanic powers
even in their song. The voice of their modern muso
has a slight hint of the steam-whistle, and the poem
is created as an ornament and finish of their monarchy,
and by no means as the bird of a new morning which
forgets the past world in the full enjoyment of that
which is forming. They are with difficulty ideal;
they are the most conditioned men, as if, having the
best conditions, they could not bring themselves to
forfeit them. Every one of them is a thousand years
old, and lives by his memory : and when you say this
they accept it as praise.
Nothing comes to the book-shops but politics,
travels, statistics, tabulation, and engineering, and
even what is called philosophy and letters is median*
xiv.] LITEBA.TUKE. 203
ical in its structure, as if inspiration had ceased, as if
no vast hope, no religion, no song of joy, no wisdom,
no analogy, existed any more. The tone of colleges,
and of scholars and of literary society, has this mortal
air. I seem to walk on a marble floor, where nothing
will grow. They exert every variety of talent on a
lower ground, and may he said to live and act in a
sub-mind. They have lost all commanding views in
literature, philosophy, and science. A good English-
man shuts himself out of three fourths of his mind,
and confines himself to one fourth. He has learning,
good sense, power of labour, and logic : but a faith
in the laws of the mind like that of Archimedes ; a
belief like that of Euler and Kepler, that experience
must follow and not lead the laws of the mind \ a
devotion to the theory of politics, like that of Hooker,
and Milton, and Harrington, the modern English
mind repudiates.
I fear the same fault lies in their science, since
they have known how to make it repulsive, and be-
reave nature of its charm though perhaps the com-
plaint flies wider, and the vice attaches to many more
than to British physicists. The eye of the naturalist
must have a scope like nature itself, a susceptibility
to all impressions, alive to the heart as well as to the
logic of creation. But English science puts humanity
to the door. It wants the connection which is the
test of genius. The science is false by not being
poetic. It isolates the reptile or mollusc it assumes
to explain; whilst reptile or mollusc only exists in
system, in relation. The poet only sees it as an in-
204 ENGLISH TRAITS.
evitalble atop in the path of the Creator. But, in
England, one hermit finds this fact, and another fmdn
that, and lives and (lies ignorant of its value. Thero
are great exceptions, of John Hunter, a man of idt?a ;
perhaps of Bobert Brown, the Botanist; and of
Richard Owen, who has imported into Britain ilia
German homologies, and enriched science with contri-
butions of his own, adding sometimes the divination
of the old masters to the unbroken power of labour
in the English mind. But for tho moHt part, thu
natural science in England is out of its loyal alliance
with morals, and is as void of imagination and free
play of thought as conveyancing. It standn in ntnmg
contrast with the genius of tho (Jonnaiw, tluiflo ttomi
Greeks, who love analogy, and, by xnoaim of their
height of view, preserve their enthusiasm, and think
for Europe.
No hope, no sublime augury, cheers tbo Hindi)! it,
no secure striding from experiment onward to a fore-
seen law, but only a casual dipping hero and thwt\
like diggers in California "prospecting for a plaa*r"
that will pay. A horizon of braas of tho dkuwtw of
his umbrella shuts down around his sonBea Squalid
contentment with convention!*, satire at tho ntuxutH of
philosophy and religion, parochial and shop-till
and idolatry of usage, betray the ebb of lifts and
As they trample on nationalities to reproduce London
and Londoners in Europe and Ania, so they fear the
hostility of ideas, of poetry, of religion, f^iosto wlmih
they cannot lay;- and, having attempted to domesti-
cate and dress the Blessed Soul itself in Kiiirlinh brood*
LITKRATURK. 20p
cloth and gaiters, they are tormented with fear t\\\i
heroin lurkn a force that will sweep their nystem away:
The artiHt*; ay, " Nature putH them out ; w the scholars
have become un-ideal. They parry euntewt Hpcoch
with banter and levity; they luutfh yon down, or
they change the subject. "Tho fact in," Hay they
over their win<, " all that uhout liberty, and HO forth,
IB gtui by ; it won't do any lon t u;r." Th practical
and comfortable opprwH them with inoxorablo claimR,
and tht tmmllcflt fraction of |Mwr rttiuaiun for horoiHtn
utjd |xntry. No poet dares murmur of beauty out of
the prwrfnfit of bin rhymen. No priest dam* hint at
a l*rovitUmo vvhirh <l<ui not respect En^linh utility.
Tlw inhind in a nMiring volcano of fate, of material
valucH, of turiiln, and lawn of ivpn^Jtm, glutted mar
kiiw and lw prictm,
In \\w ubwr of tlu^ higliOHt aitun, of tbo pnro
lov, of knowlcd^s and the Humntd^r to nature, there
in tihe KUp]r(wiotj of t.ho imagination, the priapwin of
tint Honm'tt and the miderHtiwding ; wo tiave the facti-
tiotiH itmtt^td of the natural; tUHtcJCHH oxpenne, artH
of t-owfoj't, und the n-wnnliM'^is an illuHirioiiH inventor
whoHoevcr will ^wMiveom* imjifdimrnt nmre to Inter
JHJHC between the twin and hi ohjw.U
Ttnw ptu'lry JH dr^ruiled and tnude ornamcntl,
Pope and \m r!nI wrot- pcetry fit to put round
fnwtwl ruke. What did Walter S(!()tt writo without
mintl arliymwt trttvi,llr*8 guide t-o Srotknd, Ami
tlin librurien of u*ww they print luivo thin Binning
\mn eltanu^*r. ilow many volume* of wrll-bnui
metre we muut I'n^k thruu^h, before we can be
206 ENGLISH TRAITS, [CHAP,
taught, renewed ! Wo want tho miraeuloua ; the
beauty which we can manufacture tit no mill, can
give no account of ; the bounty of which Ohaucor and
Chapman had the secret. The poetry of course is
low and prosaic ; only now and then, aa in Words-
worth, conscientious ; or in Byron, passional ; or in
Tennyson, factitious. But if I should count the? poets
who have contributed to the bible of existing England
sentences of guidance and consolation which arc ntill
glowing and effective, -how fowl Shall 1 find my
heavenly bread in the reigning poets? Where i
great design in modern English poetry 1 Tim English
have lost sight of the fact that poetry exists to speak
the spiritual law, and that no wealth of description
or of fancy is yet essentially new, and out of th
limits of prose, until this condition in reached*
Therefore the grave old poets, like the Omsk artists,
heeded their designs, and loss coitsidwcul the finish,
It was their office to lead to the divine SOUWK> out
of which all this, and much more, readily HpringH ;
and, if this religion ia in the poetry, it; raises us to
some purpose, and wo can well afford some Ktaidiuws,
or hardness, or want of popular tuiw in tho verses.
Tho exceptional fact of tho period i tho gonhts of
Wordsworth. He had no muster hub nature and
solitude. "He wrote a poem," nayfi Landm; u with-
out tho aid of war." His verse is tho voieo of sanity
in a worldly and ambitions ag. One regretH that
his temperament, was nob more liquid and nuiniral.
He has written longer than lie was iuKpiml. Hut
for tho rest, ho 1m no competitor
LITERATURE. 207
Tennyson is endowed precisely in points where
Wordsworth wanted. There is no finer ear, nor more
command of the keys of language. Colour, like the
dawn, flows over the horizon from his pencil, in. waves
so rich that we do not miss the central form. Through
all his refinements, too, he has reached the public,
a certificate of good sense and general power, since
he who aspires to be the English poet must be as
large as London, not in the same kind as London,
but in his own kind. But he wants a subject, and
climbs no mount of vision to bring its secrets to the
people. He contents himself with describing the
Englishman as he is, and proposes no better. There
are all degrees in poetry, and we must be thankful
for every beautiful talent. But it is only a first suc-
cess, when the ear is gained. The best office of the
best poets has been to show how low and uninspired
was their general style, and that only once or twice
they have struck the high chord.
That expansiveness which is the essence of the
poetic element, they have not. It was no Oxonian,
but Hafiz, who said, "Let us be crowned with roses,
let us drink wine, and break up the tiresome old roof
of heaven into new forms." A stanza of the song of
nature the Oxonian has no ear for, and he does not
value the salient and curative influence of intellectual
action, studious of truth, without a by-end.
By the law of contraries, I look for an irresistible
taste for Orientalism in Britain. For a self-conceited
modish life, made up of trifles, clinging to a corporeal
civilisation, hating ideas, there is no remedy like the
208 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP
Oriental largeness. That astonishes and disconcerts
English decorum. For once there is thunder it never
heard, light it never saw, and power which trifles
with time and space. I am not surprised, then, to
find an Englishman like Warren Hastings, who had
been struck with the grand stylo of thinking in the
Indian writings, deprecating the prejudices of his
countrymen, while offering thorn a translation of the.
Bhagvat. "Might I, an unlettered man, venture to
prescribe bounds to the latitude of criticism, I should
exclude, in estimating the merit of such a production,
all rules drawn from the ancient or modern literature
of Europe, all references to such sentiments or man-
ners as aro become the standards of propriety for
opinion and action in our own modes, and, equally,
all appeals to our revealed tenets of religion and
moral duty," 1 Ho goes on to bespeak iudulj^iuv
to "ornaments of fancy unsuitod to our tasto, and
passages elevated to a tract of sublimity into which
our habits of judgment will find it difficult to pumio
them."
Meantime, I know that a rGtrwvin/jy power lies in
the English race, which BOOTHS to make arty nwoil
possible ' 3 in other words, there is at all timas a
minority of profound minds existing in tho nation,
capable of appreciating every soaring of mfcoUo.ct and
every hint of tendcmey* Whilo the constructive
talent scorns dwarfed and wiporficial, the critidHiu w
of ton in tho noblest tone, and BuggastH tho pnwoftcu
of tho invisible gods, I can wall boliovo what I have
1 Preface to Wilkirw'H TronHlathm oY tl> Hlwgvat Owta,
jciv,] IiITKttATtTRW. 209
often heard, that tlwro arc two natiorw in England ;
hut it in not the Poor and the Rich ; nor IK It the
NormaiiH and Saxom; nor t.lw (Jolt and the (Jotli.
Thcwo arc cwh always hocoinin^ Uio other; for
Robert Own do<*H not oxa-x^urato tho power of civ-
mmiHtanoa But. the two complexion:*, or two atyloH
of nilnd,"-'tlio piTi-rptivc clasn, and tlw practical
finality laK,"- aro **vor in conntc.rpoisc, intcrae.tiing
mutually ; ono, in hopoJt^H minoiiticH ; the other, in
lingo inuH8*H ; oiin stndiouH, <iont<nplativ(\ oxpori-
incntin^ ; tlm other, thn un^rutinftil pupil, Kcornful of
t.ho Bonrai, whilst, availing itnolf of tin 1 , knowlrd^o for
gain ; thene two natiotw, of geniiw and of animal
foro<% though tlu ( ilrst conHwt of only a don HOU!H,
and tlw BtMHntd of twtnity milHotw, f<jr over hy their
(Uswrnl and limit" accord yiold tins pc^wor of tho
Kngli.sh St-ato.
vou iv,
210 ENGLISH TRAITS, [<MIA1',
CHAPTER XV,
THE "TIMK&"
TITE power of tlio newspaper is familiar in Atnoriew,
and in accordance with our political Kystem. In
England, it stands in antagonism with tho feudal
institutions, and it is all tho more*, beneficent suctutnr
against tho secretive tendencies of a monarchy. Tho
celebrated Lord SomorB "know of no good law pro--
posed and passed in hia time, to which tho public
papers had not directed his attention." Thero in no
corner and no night A relentless inquinition drugn
every secret to tho day, turns tho glare of this wolur
microscope on every nuilfainance, so as to make*, fhn
public a more terrible spy than any foreigner j and
no weakness can bo taken advantage of by an enemy,
since the whole people arc already forewarned, Than
England rids herself of those incrufttationH which have
been tho ruin of old states. Of counse, this insp<*<v-
tion is feared. No antique privilege, no comfortable*
monopoly, hut ROOK surely that itn day aw count. o I ;
tho people arc faniiliarlHed with tho reason of rd'urfj^
and, one by ono, take awuy every ui'^tiiuent of the
ol)tructivcH, "So your grace liktw the comfort of
xv.] Tim" TIMES,'* 211
reading tho newKpapm," Raid Lord Mannfiold, to the
Duke of Northumberland ; "mark my words; you
and I shall not live to see It, but* thin young gontlo-
man (Lord Kldon) may, or it, way bo a little later;
hut a little ttooner or later, thaso newspapers will
inoHt aHHurwlly write the dukcw of Northumberland
out of their titles and possessions, and tho country
out of it.H kin#." Tho t.tm<lemy in England towards
social and political institutions like*- thoao of America
IH iiwvitabli',, and \lw ability of its journaln w tho
driving fowl.
Kngltttul is^ full of munly, dcvcr, wcll-bro-d man,
who POMHMH th talttiit of writing otF-hand ptm^ont
parn^raph t <'\prt'.'...in;^ with elearncw anil <xmrag(s
Uu*ir opinirm on tiny ponson or porfonnauc^. Valu-
abh or iu>t^ it. in a wkill t-hat is rarely found, out of
ill*! Kn^liwh journals, Tho Kn^linh <lo thin, m they
writtit pttry, a ilwy rido aiwl box, by hohig ftdttcated
tt> It, Hun<lndH of oltsv^r Fi k a<Hb, and PreroB, and
Froudi^^ ami HotwlM, and Hooka, and Mu^intiH, and
Mill, stml MafjtuhiyH, tunko poc.mH w* short annayH
for a journal, UH thr.y inako ps<wliH in Parliamotit
and on thn hustings or <*H thoy nhoot and, rido It
IH a ijuittf m'oideiital iitwi arbitrary diri*r,tin of thoir
ability, Uti<l health and Hp5nt, an Oxford
tiois, nd the habifa of Ktwii'ty> art) iinplicKl, but
not a ray of #wiuH. It mmm of the crowded state of
the prnfr.".'init:i % the violent int/i^rmt which all men
lake in politic t.ho facility of rvpmmmim;; in tho
jnunuils, jmd hi;?h pay,
The nuwt r,uuftpi'iuus remilt of thw talent is tho
212 ENGLISH TRAITS, [CHAP.
"Times" newspaper. No power In England is more
felt, more feared, or more obeyed. What yon road
in the morning in that journal, you shall hear in tho
evening in all society. It has cars everywhere, and
its information is earliest, complotest, and surest It
has risen, year by year, and victory by victory, to its
present authority. I askocl one of its old contri-
butors, whether it had once boon abler than it w now,
"Never," ho said; "these are its palmiest days," It
has shown those qualities which arc dear to English-
men, unflinching adherence to its objects, prodigal
intellectual ability, and a towering assurance, Imekad
by the perfect organisation in its printing-house, and
its world-wide network of correspondence and roporta
It has its own history and famous trophies. In 18^0,
it adopted the cause of Queen Caroline and carried it
against the king. It adopted a poor-law nyst-cm, and
almost alone lifted it through* When 1 jtml I irouglunu
was in power it decided against him, and pulled him
down. It declared war against Ireland^ untl emiqmwl
it It adopted the League against tho Corn Laws,
and, when Cobden had begun to despair, it announced
his triumph. It denounced and diMerodited tho
'French Eopublic of 1848, and checked every sym-
pathy with it in England, until it had enrolled
'J00,000 special constables to watch the- OhartiHtH and
make them ridiculous on the I Oth April It first de-
nounced and then adopted tho new Pnmeh Kmpire,
and urged tho French Alliance and its nwull-H. It hutt
entered into each municipal, lltemry, ami nociul
question, almost with a controlling voioo. It htm
xv.J THE "TIMES," 213
done bold and seasonable service in exposing frauds
which threatened the commercial community. Mean-
time, it attacks its rivals by perfecting its printing
machinery, and will drive them out of circulation:
for the only limit to the circulation of the " Times "
is the impossibility of printing copies fast enough;
since a daily paper can only be new and seasonable
for a few hours. It will kill all but that paper which
is diametrically in opposition ; since many papers,
first and last, have lived by their attacks on the
leading journal.
The late Mr. Walter was printer of the " Times,"
and had gradually arranged the whole materiel of it in
perfect system. It is told, that when he demanded
a small share in the proprietary, and was refused,
he said, " As you please, gentlemen : and you may
take away the c Times ' from this office when you
will ; I shall publish the c New Times,' next Monday,
morning." The proprietors, who had already com-
plained that his charges for printing were excessive,
found that they were in his power, and gave him
whatever he wished.
I went one day with a good friend to the " Times "
office, which was entered through a pretty garden
yard, in Printing-House Square. We walked with
some circumspection, as if we were entering a
powder-mill ; but the door was opened by a mild old
woman, and, by dint of some transmission of cards,
we were at last conducted into the parlour of
Mr. Morris, a very gentle person, with no hostile
appearances. Th^ statistics are now quite out of
214 ENGLISH TRAITS.
date, but I remember he told us that the dally
printing was them 35,000 copies; that OH the 1st
March 1848, the greatest number over printed,
54,000 wore issued ; that, since February, the daily
circulation had increased by 8000 copies. The old
press they were then using printed five or six
thousand shoots per hour; the new machine, for
which they were then building an engine, would
print twelve thousand per hour. Our entertainer
confided us to a courteous assistant to show UH the
establishment, in which, I think, they employed a
hundred and twenty men. I remember I naw the
reporters' room, in which they redact their haty
stenographs ; Imt the editor's room, and who is in It,
I did not see, though I shared the curiosity of man-
kind respecting it,
The staff of the "Times " has always boon made up
of able men. Old Walter, Sterling, Bacon, Barnr^
Alsiger, Hora.ce Twiss, Jones Loyd, John Oxonfonl,
Mr. Mosely, Mr. Bailey, have contributed to its re-
nown in their special departments. But it han never
wanted the first pens for occasional asBiBtanee Its
private information is inexplicable, and mudln the
stories of Fouchd's police, whose omniHieiu:e niado it
believed that the Kmprosa JoHephino niUHt be in hw
pay. It has mercantile and political correspondents
in every foreign city; and ita ex presses outran the
despatches of the government*. One heurn anee.dotcH
of the rise of its BervantB, an of tiui ftinet-ionariow of
the India House, I was told of the dexterity of mta
of its reporters, who, finding ImuHnIf on one occtwum
xv,] THE "TIMES." 215
where the magistrates had strictly forbidden reporters,
put his hands into his coat-pocket, and with pencil in
one hand, and tablet in the other, did his work.
The influence of this journal is a recognised power
in Europe, and of course none is more conscious of it
than its conductors. The tone of its articles has often
been the occasion of comment from the official organs
of the continental courts, and sometimes tho ground
of 'diplomatic complaint. What would tho " Times "
say? is a terror in Paris, in Berlin, in Vienna, in Copen-
hagen, and in Nepaul. Its consummate discretion
and success exhibit tho English skill of combination.
Tho daily paper is the work of many hands, chiefly,
it is said, of young men recently from tho University,
and perhaps reading law in chambers in London.
Hence the academic elegance, and classic allusion,
which adorn its columns. Hence, too, tho heat and
gallantry of its onset. But the steadiness of tho aim
suggests the belief that this flro is directed and fed
by older engineers; as if persons of exact informa-
tion, and with settled views of policy, supplied tho
writers with tho basis of fact, and tho object to be
attained, and availed themselves of their younger
energy and eloquence to plead tho cause. Both the
council and tho executive departments gain by this
division. Of two mon of equal ability, tho ono who
does not write, but keeps his eye on tho course of
public affairs, "will have tho higher judicial wisdom.
But tho parts aro kept in concert, all tho articles
appear to proceed from a single will The " Times "
never disapprove of what itself has said, or cripples
216 ENGLISH TEAITH. [muj.
itself by apology for the ahKonw of the editor, or ilia
indiscretion of him who hold the pen. It. npeuks out
bluff ami bold, and fitieks to what it. says. It draws
from any number of learned and skilful contributors ;
but a more learned and nkilful person superviwv,
corrects, and co-ordinaten. Of thi.s closet, the 1 weret
does not transpire. No writer i fluttered to claim
the authorship of any paper; rvm ihin; r #wul, from
whatever quarter, conuw out editorially ; and tlm^ by
making the paper t'veryf-hin:r t and those who write
it nothing, tho character and tho uueof the journal
gain.
Tho English like* it. for its complete infornatiwi*
A statement of fact m the, **TimeH M in HA reliable u#
a citation from Hannard, Then, they like, itn jnde-
pondonco; they do not kit(nv\ when tli*y take It up v
what their paper is going to way ; but, above all, for
the nationality and ccwfhlonre of its tme, It
for thorn all ; it in their UttuVrhtutuliiijj; and
ideal daj^uorrootypuil, \Vluu I wu* fjjtnti iviuli
colmmiH, they wu i m to MM beromiu/ rvry iii
more Britiwh. It hu tho iiutiomil eoiU'u^i** ut*t nt^lt
and petulant, but considerate nml *Ii*ttnuinetl, No
dignity or wealth IK a shit-Id from ite njwault. It,
attacks a duko an readily n si polieetuuu, uut) with
tho wont provoking aiw of eontle^M-iiwoh, ll mukr^
nidework with llw Hoard of Adur;. ,!-., The Heneh
of f JiwhopK in still lenn mfi\ (>m* bi;i|i*jr fn*w Iwll)
for IUK rapaciti}\ and unutlwr for bin bigotry, and u
third Cor hin n>urtIiiHM It u<MrejM*';, jieem*ittully
a hint to Muj i t ; v itnelf, ruui <umn't*M"* u tiiut
XV.] THE "TIMES." 217
is taken. There is an air of freedom even in their
advertising columns, which speaks well for England to
a foreigner. On the days when I arrived in London
in 1847, I read among the daily announcements one
offering a reward of fifty pounds to any person who
would piit a nobleman, described by name and title,
late a member of Parliament, into any county jail
in England, he having boon convicted of obtaining
money under false pretences.
Was never such arrogancy as the tone of this
paper. Every slip of an Oxonian or Cantabrigian
who writes his first loader, assumes that we subdued
the earth before we sat down to write this particular
"Times." One would think the world was on its
knees to the " Times " Office for its daily breakfast.
But this arrogance is calculated. Who would care
for it, if it "surmised," or "dared to confess," or
"ventured to predict," etc.f No; it is so, and so it
shall be.
The morality and patriotism of the "Times"
claim only to bo representative, and by no means
ideal. It gives the argument, not of the majority,
but of the commanding class. Its editors know better
than to defend Knssia, or Austria, or English vested
rights, on abstract grounds. But they give a voice
to the claes who, at the moment, take the load ; and
they have an instinct for finding whore the power
now KGH, which is eternally shifting its banks. Sym-
pathising with and speaking for the class that rules
the hour, yet being apprised of every ground-swell,
every Chartist ^solution, every Church squabble,
216 ENGLISH TRAITS. [oA.
itself by apology for the absence of the editor, or the
indiscretion of Mm -who held the pen* It speaks out
bluff and bold, and sticks to what it says. It draws
from any number of learned and skilful contributors ;
but a more learned and skilftil person SUJMTVWOS,
corrects, and co-ordinates, Of this eloaetj the secret
does not transpire. No writer is suffered to claim
the authorship of any paper \ everything good* from
whatever quarter, comes out editorially ; and thus, by
making the paper everything, and those who write
it nothing, the character and the awe of the journal
gain.
The English like it for its complete information,
A statement of fact in the "Times'* is as reliable as
a citation from Hansard* Then, they like it* inde-
pendence j they do not know, when they it up,
what their paper is going to say : but, above all, for
the nationality aad confidence of its tone. It thiukR
for them all; it is their umlmfumlm# and
ideal daguerrcotypcd. When I see Its
columns, they seem to me Imcoimn^ ovwy moment
more British. It has the national not
and petulant, but considerate and No
dignity or wealth is a shMd from its It
attacks a duke as readily as a policeman, and with
the most provoking airs of condeecGnrion. It
rude work with the Board of Admiralty. The Bench
of Bishops is still less safe. Oat bishop badly
for his rapacity, and another for hli bigotry, and a
third for his courtliness It tuHntf!mm]ly
a hi&t to Majesty iteelf, and m>niotutK^ a
XV.] THE "TIMES." 217
is taken. There is an air of freedom even in their
advertising columns, which speaks well for England to
a foreigner. On the days when I arrived in London
in 1847, I read among the daily announcements one
offering a reward of fifty pounds to any person who
would put a nobleman, described by name and title,
late a member of Parliament, into any county jail
in England, he having been convicted of obtaining
money under false pretences.
Was never such arrogancy as the tone of this
paper. Every slip of an Oxonian or Cantabrigian
who writes his first leader, assumes that we subdued
the earth before we sat down to write this particular
"Times." One would think the world was on its
knees to the " Times " Office for its daily breakfast.
But this arrogance is calculated. Who would care
for it, if it "surmised," or "dared to confess," or
"ventured to predict," etcJ No; it is so, and so it
shall be,
The morality and patriotism of the "Times"
claim only to be representative, and by no means
ideal. It gives the argument, not of the majority,
but of the commanding class. Its editors know better
than to defend Russia, or Austria, or English vested
rights, on abstract grounds, But they give a voice
to the class who, at the moment, take the lead j and
they have an instinct for finding where the power
now lies, which is eternally shifting its banks. Sym-
pathising with and speaking for the class that rules
the hour, yet being apprised of every ground-swell,
very Chartist ^solution, every Church squabble,
218 ENGLISH TEA1TB. {mur.
every strike in the mills, they detect the flrnt. trcm
blings of change. They watch lh hard and bitttir
struggles of the authors of ouch lilwral movement,
year by year, watching them only to fount and
obstruct thorn until> at hint, when t!u*y H<W that tlws
havo established their fact, that power IH on tho point
of passiug to them, they ntriko in, with tlw voice of
a monarch, astonish those whom they me. (".our a much
as those whom they de-sort, and make victory Hiiro.
Of course tho aspirants see that tho "Tmim" i on
of the goods of fortune, not to Iw won Imt hy winning
their causa
"Punch" Is equally an ox|nv.stfion of English good
sonso, as the "London Thww." It in tlw pcmiw
version of the aamo aonHtj. Many cif its rarwutUM
are equal to tho beat paniphl<*t, nd will ovi\y to
tho oyo in an instunt tho |>opitlar viVw whilst wiw
taken of each turn of public afTairs, Ite
are usually made by nuwtorly hiuid.^ and
with gonhw; tho dolight of vrry 1^, l**ii,iwi*
uniformly guided by that taste whurh in tyratin!cl in
England. It is a now trait of thfuiintttwnth rc*i!tury,
that tho wit and humour of Knxknd, aa in
so in tho humoriHts, ilitri'old, Dickcn:^
Hood, have taken thci direction of htimunity taut
freedom.
The "Thnofl/' liku very mipHr^ns! insllttiflnii.
shows tho way to a hotter. It Ii it living imliu of
the eoloHsal Britiwh jK>wr. It* t*tifniiw^ ItmmurH
tho people who tiara to print till ti:iy know, 4ittv to
know all tho ftustos and do not wihU to J*o tlttl^n/ii hy
XV.] THE "TIMES." 219
hiding the extent of the public disaster. There is
always safety in valour. I wish I could add that
this journal aspired to deserve the power it wields,
by guidance of the public sentiment to the right. It
is usually pretended, in Parliament and elsewhere,
that the English press has a high tone, which it has
not. It has an imperial tone, as of a powerful and
independent nation. But as with other empires, its
tone is prone to be official, and even officinal. The
" Times " shares all the limitations of the governing
classes, and wishes never to be in a minority. If
only it dared to cleave to the right, to show the right
to be the only expedient, and feed its batteries from
the central heart of humanity, it might not have so
many men of rank among its contribxxtors, but genius
would be its cordial and invincible ally; it might
now and then bear the brunt of formidable combina-
tions, but no journal is ruined by wise courage. It
would be the natural leader of British reform; its
proud function, that of being the voice of Europe,
th defender of the exile and patriot against despots,
would be more effectually discharged ; it would have
the authority which is claimed for that dream of good
men not yet come to pass, an International Congress;
and the least of its victories would be to give to
England a new millennium of beneficent power,
ENGLISH TEAITB.
CHAPTER XVL
IT had "been agreed between my friend Mr, 0, and
me, that before I left England wo should make an
excursion together to Stonehenga, which neither of
us had seen ; and the project pleased my fancy with
the double attraction of the monument and the com-
panion. It seemed a bringing together of extreme
points, to visit the oldest religious monumont in
Britain, in company with her latest thinker, and one
whose influence may be traced in every contemporary
book , I was glad to sum up a little my experience^
and to exchange a few reasonable wonls on the
aspects of England, with a man on who6 genius 1 set
a very high value, and who had as much penetration,
and as severe a theory of dufcy, m my poroon m it
On Friday, 7th My, we took the South Weatero
Railway through Hajoapahire to Salisbury, we
found a carriage to convey us to Amesbury. The
fine weather and my friend's local knowledge of
Hampshire, in which he is wont to spend a of
every summer, made the way short 'Phure WEI much
to say, too, of the travelling American, d thrfr
STONEHENGE. 221
objects in London. I thought it natural that they
should give some time to works of art collected here,
which they cannot find at home, and a little to scien-
tific clubs and museums, which, at this moment, make
London very attractive. But my philosopher was
not contented. Art and "high art" is a favourite
target for his wit. " Yes, Kmst is a great delusion,
and Goethe and Schiller wasted a great deal of good
time on it : " and he thinks he discovers that old
Goethe found this out, and, in his later writings,
changed his tone. As soon as men begin to talk of
art, architecture, and antiquities, nothing good comes
of it. He wishes to go through the British Museum
in silence, and thinks a sincere man will see some-
thing, and say nothing. In these days, he thought,
it wotild become an architect to consult only the grim
necessity, and say, "I can build you a coffin for such
dead persons aa you are, and for such dead purposes
as you have, but you shall have no ornament," For
the science ho had, if possible, even less tolerance,
and compared the savans of Somerset House to the
boy who asked Confucius ' how many stars in the
skyf Confucius replied "he minded things near
him ;" then said the boy, "how many hairs are there
in your oyobrows ? " Confucius said he didn't know
and didn't care." ,
Still speaking of the Americans, 0. complained
that they dislike the coldness and xclusiveixess of
the English^ wad run away to France, and go with
tUoir countrymen, and arc amused, instead of man-
staying in London, and confronting Englishmen,
222 KN0LT8H TRAITS.
and acquiring their culture, who really have much to
teach them.
I told 0. that I was easily dazsslod, and was accus-
tomed to concede readily all that an Englishman
would ask ; I saw everywhere In the country proof*
of sense and spiiit, and success of every sort ; I likes
the people ; they arc as good a they are handsome ;
they have everything, and can do everything; but
meantime, I surely know, that, as soon m I roturn to
Massachusetts, 1 shall lapse at once into the fouling,
which the geography of America inevitably ltipln,
that we play the game with immonao advantage ;
that there and not here m the aaat and contra 0! th
British race ; and that no akill or activity cam long
compete with the prodigious natural advanta^em of
that country, in the hands of the aamo raw ; and
that England, an old and exhausted faland, imuit <mo
day b contented, like other parontw, to ba itrcmg
only in her children. But thin wai a projwrftton
which no Englishman of whatever condition tmn
easily entertain,
We left the train at Salisbury, and took a tmrritige
to Ameubury, passing by Old Sannn, a Iwtrn,
hill, once containing the town which utmt two mom*
bora to Parliament, now, not * hut^-ftnd, arriving
at Amosbmry, stopped at the Gaorgc Inn, After
dinner we walked to Salisbury Plain. On Hio l>rr*l
downs, under the gray sky, not a w*t
nothing but Btonohtmge, which knikod Uk a group
of brown dwarf in tho witk expanse, Sti
&ttd tibd harrows, whi<;h rcwe liku 'gi'itcn
aw.] STONKKMG1, 223
fcho plain, and a few hay-ricks. On the top of a
mountain, the old temple would not be more impres-
sive. Far and wide a few shepherds with their flocks
sprinkled the plain, and a bagman drove along the
road. It looked an if the wido margin given in this
crowded Mo to thi primeval tempi were accorded
by the veneration of the British race to tho old egg
out of which all thdr ecclesiastical structures and
history < had proceeded* Stonehengo is a circular
colonnade with a diameter ol a hundred feet, and
c'lu-lnsin^ a ROftond and a third colonnade within, We
walked round the Btcmes, and clambered over thorn,
to wont ourselves with their strange aspect and
;.{nupin;ys and found a nook aholtorod from the wind
among them, whore 0. lighted his cigar, It was
pleasant to KM that jut this simplest of all simple
struduivji, hvn upright stones and a lintol laid
across, -had long outstood all later churches, and all
hfatoiy, and wuro like whut i most permanent on the
face of the planet: thee, and the barrows, mere
mounds (of which there aw ft hundred and sixty
within a circle of threo miles about Btonehenge), like
the aamo twwwl on the plain of Troy, which still
makcw good to tlio passing mariner on Hellespont
tlw vaunt of Homer and the fame of Achillea
Within th nolonuro grow lmi.ii'ivip;s nettles, and,
all around wild thyme, dait*y, meadowsweet, golden-
rcidi thistki, and tho carpeting grim Over TO larks
wctrti and singing,- *- iw my friend aid "the
lark which wow> hu-tohed lout y and tlio wind which
hatohed manydtltoumiul ycmw ago*" Wo counted
224 ffiraUBH TRAITS, [oKAt.
and measured by paces the biggest straw, and soon
knew as much as any man can suddenly know of the
inscrutable temple. Thero are nmdy-fnur
and there were onco probably one hundred and sixty,
The temple is circular, and uncovered, and the xitna-
tion fixed astronomically, the grand entrancen hw
and at Abury being placed exactly north u m
all the gates of the old cavern temple* am" How
came the stones here 1 for or Druidieal
sandstones are not found in this neighbourhood. The
mmjidd tfm, m it is called, w the only one In all
these blocks that can fount the action of fire, and, an
I read in tho books, mu*t haw been brought erne
hundred and fifty miles,
On almoat every stone wn found the marten of the
niirwralo*$iat*K hammer and fhltwl The iiinntetm
smaller Atones of the inner circle are of granite. 1,
who had just come from SwlgwirkV Cam*
bridge Museum of megntheria and nuMtodonn
ready to maintain that nomo cl?eror atephonto c^r
mylodonta had homo off and laid oat on
another. Only tha good known
how to cut a well-wrought tenon and and to
smooth the surface of somo of Iho atcmon. Tlw i*Mif
mystery i% that smy myitory nhould hava Iwen allowed
to settle on so remarkablo a mMimmcnt, in ft oonntry
on which all the h4?o kept tlttlr iw*w for
eighteen hundracl We ara not ynt trio lute to
loam much more than known of tttin
Some diligent Folio won or Laytml will nniv%
by stcme, afc tho whole Itwtory, % thafc
xvu] 8TONEHENGE. 225
British sense and perseverance, so whimsical in its
choice of objects, which loaves its own Stonehengo or
Choir Qaur to the rabbits, whilst it opens pyramids
and uncovers Nineveh. Stonehange, in virtue of the
simplicity of its plan, and its good preservation, is as
if new and recent ; and, a thousand years hence, men
will thank this age for the accurate history it will
yet eliminate, We walked in and out, and took
again ami again a frosh look at the uncanny stones.
The old sphinx put our petty differences of nationality
out of sight. To those conscious stones we two pil-
grims were alike known and near, We could equally
well revere their old British meaning. My philoso-
pher was subdued and gentle, In this qtiiot house of
destiny, ha happened to Bay, "1 plant cypresses
wherever I go, and if I am in search of pain, I cannot
go wrong,** The apot, the gray blocks, and their
rudo order, which refuses to be disposed of, suggested
to him the flight of and the succession of reli-
gbn& The old times of England impress 0. much :
ha roads little, ho nays, in thai last years, but "Acfa
SvMttonm?* the fifty-three volumes of which are in
the London library. He finds all English history
therein. He <mn BOO, au he roads, the old taint ol
Itrna Kitting there, and writing, a man to men. The
Acfa Banetmmt. show plainly that the men of those
times helwttd in (3-od, and in the immortality of the
soul, as their abbcjyi and cathedrals testify: now,
oven the IHiiitttisin is all gone, London is pagan.
Hu fancied that greater mm had lived in England
titan any of hor writers ; and, In fatst* about the time
vor* iv, Q
226 ENGLISH TKAITa [CHAP.
when those writers appeared, the last of thene wow
already gone.
We left the mound in the twilight, with the
design to return the next morning, and coming baek
two miles to our inn, we wore met "by little showers,
and late as it was, men and women were out attempting
to protect their spread wind-rowa. The grows
rank and dark in the showery England, At the inn
there was only milk for ones cup of tea. When we
called for more, the girl brought us three drop*. My
friend was annoyed, who stood, lor the credit of an
English inn, and still more, the next morning, by tho
dog-cart, sole pror.umblo vehicle, in which we wtira to
be sent to Wilton, 1 engaged the local antiquary,
Mr, Brown, to go with us to Stonohango, on our way,
and show us what ha knew of tho "astronomical"
and " sacrificial >J stones* 1 atood on tho hat, and ha
pointed to the upright, or rather, inclined atona,
called the "aatronomioal," and hade ma notice that
its top ranged with the sky-lino, " Ye*." Tarj wall
Now, at the summer solatia^ the mm oxaetly
over the top of that stone, and, at tho DruitUoal
tomple at Abury, there ii also an, aitronomteal
in tho same relative position*
In the silence of tradition, this one relation to
science becomes an important olne j but wt
content to leave tho problem, with the roeks. WAI
this tho *' Gianta* Danea " whicli Merlin brought from
Killaraua, in Ireland, to b Utlwr l*rmlr;i;:on* monu-
ment to the British nobhw whom
here, w Qoofitoy of Moamouth wm it a
STQNEHKNGK 227
Roman work, as Inigo Jones explained to King
James; or identical in design and style with the
East Indian temples of the sun, as Davies in the
Celtic Researches maintains 1 Of all the writers,
Stukeley is the "best The heroic antiquary, charmed
with the geometric perfections of his ruin, connects
it with the oldest monuments and religion of the
world, and, with the courage of his tribe, does not
stick to say, " the Deity who made the world By the
scheme of Stonehenge." He finds that the wrm 1 on
Salisbury Plain stretches across the clowns, like aline
of latitude upon the globe, and the meridian line of
Btonehenge passes exactly through the middle of this
CWNIU&. But hero is the high point of the theory ;
the Druids hod the magnet ; laid their courses by it ;
their cardinal points in Stonohenge, Ambresbury, and
elsewhere* which vary a little from true east and
west, followed the variations of the compass, Th
Druidi were Pltamioiam Th name of the magnet
is and Hercules was the god of the
Phcnnieian*. Uoroulea, in the legend, drew his bow
at the uun, and the sun-god gave him a golden cup,
with wluteh he muled over the ocean* What was this
but a compass box t This cup or little boat, in which
the magnet was made to float on water, and no show
with Stetiohftjtigf) awi an AVOUQ* tnd i>
The ftwmuo IM * narrow road of ralmd imrth^ attending 504 yar<U
tit * st!||Iit Htifi from tlw gruttti Mtrance, tlma dWdlug into
two bmiwiuM, whtdi Ititd, **VMUy to a row of bawvwi ; and
to tits ewr*w MI sutlflwilly forntwl flat tnutt of ground. This
!;. h.ilf :i nitlr nr!li c;iNi, from S|onlnujj', bounded by bankn ftttd
228 MGHSH TBAEC8. [CHA*.
fche north., was probably its first form, boforo it wa
suspended on a pin. But aoiotico wtw an,
and, as Britain was a Phoenician secret, so they kept
their compass a secret, and it was lost with the Tynan
commerce. The golden fleece, again, of Jason, wan
the compass, a bit of loadstone, easily Huppoed to
be the only one in the world, and therefore natur-
ally awakening the cupidity and ambition of ttici
young heroes of a maritime nation to join in an
expedition to obtain pwiwion of thin
Hence the fablo that tho ship Argc> w loquacious
and oracular. There is also some curioui aoineidonco
in the names, A pollution IB makes tho ton
of dEolw, who married JVrik On hints like
Stukeley builds again the grand colonnade into hi**
torn harmony, and computing backward By tho known
variations of the compaia, bravely the
406 before Christ for the date of tho temple.
For the difficulty of handling and currying
of this size, the like is done in all tivury day,
with no othor aid than home jiww, I chmeeil to
soo a yaar ago men at work on the substructtiiu erf a
house in Bowdoin Square, in Boston* swinging
block of granite of tho ize of the k^t of tht*
Stonehonge columns with an ordinary derriok* Tho
men wore common with piukti to hdp, nor
did they think t.lwy \v<ni doing anything witmrlctljk
1 8itppoo there were as good mm * thoiunancl
ago. And we woucbr how Bkiitnliimgn mm built and
forgotten. After Hptinding ltd! tui Iwmr <m feftti
we et forth in our dog-cait owe tlii dowiii for
XTL] STONKHMQ1L 229
Wilton, 0. nut suppressing sumo threats and evil omens
on the proprietors, for keeping these broad plains a
wretched nil wp walk, when so many thousands of
English men were hungry and wanted labour. But
I heard aftorwarda that it is not an economy to culti-
vate this land, which only yields one crop on "being
broken tip and i then jx>ilod,
We came to Wilton and to Wilton Hall, the re-
nowned Meat ol tho lark of Pembroke, a homo known
to Bhakspeare and Mu.\sin^r, the frequent homo of
Sir Philip Sidney where ho wrote the Arcadia j where
ho con vowed with Lord Brooke, a man of deep
thought, and a jK>et, who canned to b engraved on
his tombntonc, " Hero lies "Fulke Greville Lord Brooke,
the friend of Bit Philip Sidney." It is now the pro-
perty of the Karl of Pembroke, and the residence of
lite brothw, Hidnoy Herbert, Kq,, and is esteemed a
noble pati!mon of tho English manor-hail, My friend
bid a letter from Mr. Hcrlmrt to his housekeeper, and
the houfta waft ihown. The drawing room is
a, double cubo, SO foot high, by SO feet wide, by 60
feet long : the mljowinx room ii a tingle cube, of SO
foot e?ery way. Although apartments and tho
long library wero full of good family portraits,
Vnndyko* and other; and though there were
good pioturoft, MM! $ quadnmglo cloister full of a&tiqne
and modern utntuary,- to which 0., catalogtio in hattd,
did all too muoh jtmtJott^-yot tho ya WM itill dwB
to the window**, to ft m;ijmfirriil,lMun, Ott wlurli ^i'ow
tho finent in England* 1 had not more
t:liunuhr,c grouxuk We went <wt and w,lkd over
230 KNOLIHH TRAITB.
the estate. We crossed a bridge "built by Inzgo
over a stream, of which the gardener did not know
the name (Qw, Alph?); watched the deer; climbed to
the lonely sculptured summer houKe, on a hill booked
by a wood ; cam down into the Italian garden, mid
into a French pavilion, garnished with French bunts ;
and so again to the house, where we found a table
laid for us with bread, meats, peaahos, grapes, and
wine.
On leaving Wilton House we took the coach for
Salisbury. The Cathedral, which wan finitthod 000
years ago, has even a spruce and modem air, and it*
spire is the highest in England. 1 know not why,
but I had been more struck with ona of no fame at
Coventry, which rises 300 feet from tlui ground, with
the lightness of a mullein-plant, and not at all impli-
cated with the church. Salisbury is now
ttie culmination of the Gothic art in England) a* the
buttresses axe fully unmasked, and honestly detailed
from the sides of the pile* The interior of the Cathe-
dral is obstructed by the organ in the middle,
like a screen. I know not why In real architecture
the hunger of the ey for length of lino is ao rarely
gratified* The rule of art is that a eolonnftde ia more
beautiful the longer it is* tad that tij infwltum. And
the nave of a church is seldom m long it
be divided by a screen.
We loitered in the church, outside the ohoir s
service was said, Whilst we listened to the
my Mend remarked, the nitwio is good, mA yet not
quite religious, but somewhat an if
XVI,] 8TONRHKNGK. 231
ing to some fine Queen of Heaven, 0, was unwilling,
and wo did not aak to have the choir shown us, but
returned to our inn, after seeing another old church of
the place. We passed in the train Clarendon Park,
but could see little but the edge of a wood, though 0,
had wished to pay closer attention to tha birthplace of
the Decrees of Clarendon. At Bishops toko wo stopped,
and found Mr. H,, who received us in his carriage,
and took us to Mtt house at Bishops Waltham.
On Sunday we had much discourse on a very rainy
clay. My friondn aaked whether there were any
Americans! any with an American idea) any
theory of the right future of that country? Thus
challenged, I bethought myself neither of caucuses
nor congres^ neither of piuwtdmitH nor of cabinet
miuiHtoni, nor of inch as would make of America
another Kuropa I thought only of the simplest and
purest tuinds; I aid, "Certainly yes: but those
who hold it arcs fanatics* of & dream which 1 should
hardly mm to rwlate to your Rngliah ears, to which
it might t only ridiculous^ and yet it is the only
true." Bo 1 openwl the dogma of no-government and
non-re*Hwtano<s and anticipated the objections anil the
fun, and procured a kind of hearing for it I said, it
ii true that 1 have never mm m any country a mm
of iwfieiimt valour to stand for this truth, and yet it
in plain to mo that no valour than this can com-
inwtcl my respect 1 n eaaily oe ttie bankniptoy
of the vulgar mtiftlii*! woixliip, though great men IHJ
inuskrl \\orj.tuppiTs ;a!ul *ti cirtain, as God livetii,
fchtt gun that not imml another gtin, the kw of
232 ENGLISH TKAIT8. [0BAB
love and justice alone, can a clean revolution.
I fancied that on or two of my anecdote** naadci some
impression on 0,, and I insisted that the manifest
absurdity of the view to English feasibility could make
no difference to a gentleman ; that as to our secure
tenure of our mutton rhop and apinage in London or
in Boston, the soul might quote T;ill\ymid, " Ahnwur.
je rien vote pm la ntcestifa" l As I had thua in
the conversation the aaint's part, when dinner wan
announced, 0. refused to go out before me, w lia
was altogether too wicked," 1 planted my back
against the wall, and our host wittily resound tin from
the dilemm% by saying, ho waa the wickedest* and
would walk out Brat, then 0. followed, and I wont
last.
On the way to Winchester, whither our h<mt
accompanied w in the afternoon) my friorul#
many questionB respecting American landscape, fortify
LoiwoB,""-my house, for example* It is not to
answer these queries well There 1 thought* in
America^ lies nature sleeping, ovir^ rowing almont
consciouSj too much by half for man in the picture,
and so giving a certain like the rank
tion of awamps and foroste seen at night* uteepwl *H
dews ajad rains, which it lo?es j and on it man
not able to make much fmprtwion. Thwi\ in that
great sloven continent) in high Alli^hany |atorei In
the sea-wide, *kyskirf i<1 prairi* 1 , still nd mur-
murs and Mde the groat mother, long since driven
away from the trim hedgerows wid CVT
XV!,] HTONKHKNtJK. ^33
gardens of EuglamL And, in England, I am quite too
sensible of this. Every one Is on hia good behaviour,
and must bo droaaod for dinner at six. So I put off
my Mends with very inadequate details, SB boat I
could.
Just before entering Winchester, wo stopped at tho
Church of Saint Cross, and, after looking through the
quaint antiquity, wo demanded a piece of bread and
a draught of boor, which tho founder, Henry de Blois,
in 1136, commanded should bo given to every one
who should ask it at tho gate* We had both, from
tlm old couple who take eare of the church. Some
twenty people, every day, they said, make the same
demand, Thin hospitality of aoven hundred yotw*
standing did not hinder 0. from pwiumnnng a male-
diction on tho priest who receives J2000 a year that
ware ttiiHint for tho |K>or, and pend a pittance on this
wnall hour and crumbs,
In tho < Cathedral, 1 wtt gratified, at least by tho
ninplo dimwwitmtt. The length of line exceeds that
of any othw English church ; baing 058 foot by 200
in breadth of transept, I think 1 prefer thi church
to all I have except WotttminBter and York
Hero ww Canute bwriwl, and here Alfred the Great
was orowncsrt and buti&l, and horo the Saxon kings :
and, later, itt liii own elmroh, WilUwn of Wykeham,
It !i very old ; of the crypt Into which we went
down md aw tho Saxon and Norman arches of the
old church on which the j*rowjnt stands^ wa built
lourUum or ff len hwitdrtid yann ago* Slutron Turner
'* AlCml w^p buried at Wmehwter, In the Abbey
234 ENGLISH TEAITS.
he had founded there, but his remains were removed
by Henry I, to the new Abbey in the meadows at
Hyde, on the northern quarter of the city, and laid
under the high altar. The building was destroyed at
the Reformation, and what is left of Alfred's body
now lies covered by modem buildings, or buried in
the ruins of the old." * William of Wykeham'a shrine
tomb was unlocked for us, and 0. took hold of the
recumbent statue's marble hands, and patted them
affectionately, for he rightly values the brave mm
who built Windsor, and this Cathedral, and the Sehool
here, and new College at Oxford. But it was grow-
ing late in the afternoon. Slowly we left the old
house, and parting with our host, we took the train
for London,
1 History of the Axtglo-S&xona, i 599,
3r?H] PKEBOKAL. 235
OHAPTEE XVII.
PKR80NAI*.
IN those comments on an old journey BOW revised
alter seven busy years have much changed men and
things in England, I have abstained from reference to
parsonii eieapt in the last chapter, and in one or two
whore the fame of tine parties seemed to have
given the public a property in all that concerned
ihwn* 1 must further allow rnynol! a few nottooa, if
only us an jinkmnvM^mmt of debts that cannot bo
(Miid. My journeys wn cheered by so nrach kind-
new from now friencl% that my improwtion of tiie
island is bright with agreeable memories both of
public Hociofcien and of hoiwthokk : and, what is no-
where batter found than in Kngland, a cultirated
ponum fitly wurounded by a happy home, "with
honour, lov t obecliiince^ troop of friends," is of all
tn*t4tuti<ro tibe At tiha landing in Liverpool 1
found my Manchester correspondent awniting m% a
g6Hthiiii whose kind reception was followed by a
train of friendly tad attentions which never
whilst I remained in the country. A man of
wail of listen, the editor of a. powerful local
236 BNCH1SH TRAITS, [OHAF,
journal, he added to solid virtues an infinite sweet'
ness and bonfammie. There seemed a pool of honoy
about his heart which lubricated all his speech and
action with fine jots of moad. An equal good fortune -
attended many later accidents of my journey, until
the sincerity of English kindness ceased to surprisa
My visit fell in the fortxmate days- when Mr. Bancroft
was the American Minister in London, and at bis
house, or through Ms good offices, I had easy access
to excellent persons and to privflt^oil placoa. At the
house of Mr. Carlyle I mot persons eminent in society
and in letters. The pnvilugivs of the Athomoum and
of the Reform Clubs were hospitably oponod to mo,
and I found much advantage in the circlas of tho
"Geologic," the "Antiquarian/* and the "Royal
Societies." Every day in London gave me now oppor*
tunitifes of meeting men and women who give aplon*
dour to society. I saw Rogera, Hallam, Maoaulay,
Milnes, Mflman, Barry Cornwall, DickonH, Tlmekemy,
Tennyson, Leigh Hunt t D*lsrael! Helps, Wilkinson,
Bailey, Kenyon, and Forstor; the younger poets,
Olough, Arnold, and Patmor ; and, among the mm
of science, Robert Brown, Owen, Sedgwick, Faraday,
Buckland, Lyell, De la Beohe, Hooker, Cttrpcmtor,
Babble, and Edward Forbea It ww my privilogo
also to converse with Miss Baillie, with Lady Morgan!
with Mrs, Jame&on, and Mrs. 8omer?Ilk A finer
hospitality made many private houses not kw ktiow
and dew. It is not in distinguished that
wisdom and elevated oh,actera aw usually found) or,
if t found, not oonflnod thereto $ m^ my rooollectiow
237
of the bet hours go hack to private conversations in
different parts of the kingdom, with persona little
known. Nor am I insensible to the courtesy which
frankly opened to me some noble mansions, if I do
not adorn my page with their names. Among the
privilege of London I recall with pleasure two or
three single days, one at Kew, where Sir William
Hooker showed me all the riches of the vast botanic
garden ; one at tho Mfaaourn, where Sir Charles Pel-
lowoa explained in detail the history of his lonio
trophy tw mumHit ; and still another* on whioh Mr*
Owen oaoompaniod my countryman Mr, H* and my-
self through the Huntorian Museum,
Tho like frunlc hoapMity, bent on real service, 1
found among the great and the humblo, wherever I
wont: in firwm';ham, in Oxford, in Leicester, in
Xotinr'jlifim, in Blwffmld, in Manchostor, in Livolrpool.
At Edinburgh, through tho kindness of l)r, Swoauol
Brown, 1 mado the ttm|iiutn of Do Quincey* of
Ijcwl 3 tiffrey, of Wiluon, of Mrs, (Jrowt, of the
C,)hainbar t and of a man of high character and
tho iltwtrlivtid painter* David Soofct.
At Aihltwld in March 1848, I was for a oouplo
of dayn tlw of Martinoa'u, them newly
roUimed from her Klgyptian tour. On Sunday after-
nwm I aoGompanfotl hr to Ey<lJ Mount And, on 1
hav rmjorilinl n vwit to WonUworth many bo
fotOi I muti not forget thin ftocond iatorviiw, Wa
found Mr. Wcjttiawarth m the Ho was
at Iwt i nd iudkixHiocI, an an old udclonly
wtttol, tmfui'i hi4iwl mulml hm nap ; but toon bocoma
238 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP,
full of talk on the French news, He was nationally
bitter on the French : bitter on Scotchmen too. No
Scotchman, he said, can write English. He detailed
the two models, on one or the other of which all the
sentences of the historian Robertson are framed. Nor
could Jeffrey nor the Edinburgh Reviewers write
English, nor can * * *, who is a post to the English
tongue. Incidentally he added, Gibbon cannot write
English. The Edinburgh Review wrote what would
tell and what would sell It had however changed
the tone of its literary criticism from the time whan
a certain letter was written to the editor by Coleridge,
Mrs. W. had the Editor's answer in her possession.
Tennyson he thinks a right poetic genius, though with
some affectation. He had thought an elder brother
of Tennyson at first the bettor poet, but must now
reckon Alfred the true one. . , , In speaking of I
know not what style, ho said "to bo sure, it was the
manner, but then you know the matter always comes
out of the manner." ... He thought liio Jantrfro the
best place in the world for a great capital city. . .
We talked of English national character. I told him,
it was not creditable that no one in all the country
knew anything of Thomas Taylor, the Platonist, whilst
in every American library his translations are found.
I said, if Plato's Republic ware published in England
.as a new book to-day, do you think it would find my
readers Ihe confessed it would not: "and yet/ 1 he
added after a pause, with that complaeowcy which
never deserts a true-born Englishman, "wad yet we
have embodied it all/'
rra.] ITOSOHAL, 239
His opinions of French, English, Irish, and Scotch,
seemed rashly fomralised from little anecdotes of
what had befallen himself and members of his family,
in a diligence or stage-coach. His face sometimes
lighted up, but his conrersation was not marked by
special force or elevation. Yet perhaps it is a high
compliment to the cultivation of the English generally,
when wo find uch a man net distinguished. He had
a healthy look, with a weather-beaten face, his face
corrugated, peeia% the large nose.
Miss Martineau, who lived near him, praised him
to me, not for hi* poetry, but for thrift and economy;
for having afforded to his country xuii^hbourw an
example of a modest household, where comfort and
culture wore secured without my display. She said
that in hii early housekeeping at the cottage where
ha first lived, ho was acoiuttoxned to offer Ms friends
broad wad plainest fare; if they wanted anything mow
they must pay him for their board. It was the rule
of the house, I replied, th&fc It cviuciiil TCnglwh pluck
more than sy anoodote 1 knew* A gentleman in the
neighbourhood told the story of Walter Scott's staying
for a w0k with Wordsworth, and slipping out
every day, under pretence of a walk, to the Bwau Inn,
for a cold cut and porter ; and one day pausing witiht
Wordsworth the Inn, ho was betrayed by the land-
lord's him If he hat! come for hit porter. Of
eotirsdj ihfa twit would have another look in London*
and thore you will hetur from different literary mon
that Wordiworth Iwl no frnwonal friend, that he ww
, thafcho was imivijuoniouM, dto* Laaclor,
240 ENGLISH TBATTS. [CHAP.
always generous, says that he never praised anybody.
A gentleman in London showed me a watch that once
belonged to Milton, whose initials are engraved on ita
face. He said he once showed this to Wordsworth,
who took it in one hand, then drew out his own
watch, and held it up with the other, before the
company, but no one making the expected remark,
he put back his own in silence* I do not attach
much importance to the disparagement of Words-
worth among London scholars. Who reads him well
will know, that in following the strong bent of his
genius he was careless of the many, careless also of
the few, self-assured that he should " create the tasto
by which he is to be enjoyed." He lived long enough
to witness the revolution he had wrought, and " to
see what he foresaw/' There are torpid places in his
mind, there is something hard and sterile in his poetry,
want of grace and variety, want of due catholicity and
cosmopolitan scope: he had conformities to English
politics and traditions ; he had egotistic puerilities in
the choice and treatment of his subject* ; but lot UH
say of him that, alone in his time, ho treated the
human mind well, and with an absolute trust His
adherence to his poetic creed rested on red inspira-
tions. The Ode on TmmwtJilii.y is the high-water-
mark which the intellect has reached in thin ago.
New means were employed, and now realms added to
the empire of the muse, by his courage,
rvml "RESULT. 241
OHAFTEB XVI1L
RKSCTLT.
ENGI*AKI> i the best of actual nations, Tt is BO
ideal framework, It is an old pile built in different
ages, with repaint, additions, and makeshifts j but
yon we tho poor boat you have got London is the
epitome of our timon, and tho Rome of to-day. Broad-
frontal broad-bottomed Teutons, they stand in solid
phalanx four square to the points of compass ; they
constitute tho modem world, thoy have? earned their
vantage-ground, and held It through of adverse
POHJWKHJWL lliey are well marked and differing from
other loading nuH& Engiantl w tender -hearted.
Rom was not England ii not so public in its MSB ;
private Ufo in its place of honour* Truth in private
life, untruth in public, marks these honw loving
num. Thuir political conduct i not decided by
general views, but by internal intrigues and persons!
and family interest They cannot roadily we beyond
KtiglmcL The history of Home and Grceee, when
written by their neholara, <l^<ncrat(^ into Englkh
prfcy pamphlets. They ewmot see beyond England,
nor In England can they tranHcond th int<^rot of
VCIt,, IV, It
242 ENGLISH TRAITS. [CHAP.
the governing classes. " English principles " mean a
primary regard to the interests of property. England,
Scotland, and Ireland, combine to check the colonies.
England and Scotland combine to check Irish manu-
factures and trade, England rallies at homo to check
Scotland. In England, the strong classes chock the
weaker. In the homo population of near thirty
millions, there are but one million voters. The
Church punishes dissent, punishes education. Down
to a late day marriages performed by dissenters were
illegal. A bitter class-legislation gives power to those
who are rich enough to buy a law. The ^amtvlawn
are a proverb of oppression. Pauperism mcraste and
clogs the state, and in hard times becomes hideous.
In bad seasons the porridge was diluted. Multi-
tudes lived miserably by shell-fish and sea-ware. In
cities, the children are trained to beg until they shall
be old enough to rob* Men and women were con-
victed of poisoning scores of children for burial feoa.
In Irish districts men deteriorated ia mm aad simp,
the nose sunk, the gmn wore exposed,, with diminished
brain and brutal form. During the Australian emi-
gration, multitudes wore rejected by the commis-
sioners as being too emaciated for useful colorants*
Dxmng the Russian wax few of those that offered m
recruits were found up to the medical standard, though
it had been reduced*
The foreign policy of England, though ainbitiouA
and lavish of money, has not often been generous or
just It has a principal regtrtt to the interest of
trade, checked however by the aritsfcacmtJc* of the
XVIJL] RESULT. 243
ambassador, which usually puts him in sympathy with
the continental Courts, It sanctioned the partition
of Poland, it hetrayed Genoa* Sicily, Parga, Greece,
Turkey, Borne, and Hungary.
Some public regards they have. They have
abolished slavery in the West Indies, and put an end
to human sacrifices in the East. At home they have
a certain statute hospitality. England keeps open
doors, m a trading country must, to all nations. It
is one of their fixed ideas, and wrathfully supported
by their laws in unbroken sequence for a thousand
years. In Maffna Oharfa it was ordained, that all
** merchants shall hava safe and secure conduct to go
out and come into England, and to stay there, and to
paw as well by land as by water, to buy and sell by
tli anciont allowed customs, without any mil toll,
except in time of war, or when they nhall bo of any
nation at war with, us*" It is a statute and obliged
hospitality, and piTiwiptorily maintained. But this
shop-rule luul one magnificent effect It extends its
cold unalterable courtesy to political exiles of every
opinion, and is a fact which might give additional
light to that portion of the planet soon from the
farthest star. But this perfunctory hospitality puts
no sweetness into their unan:ouiiwKla,lintf manners,
no check on that puiiwant nationality which makes
their exiitenoe incompatible with all that is not
Knglishu
What we intuit wy about a nation Is a superficial
dealing with symptom Wo cannot go tleop onough
into the biography of the Kpirit who never throws
244 ENGLISH TBAIT8,
himself entire into one hero, but delegates hin energy
in p&rts or spasms to vicious and defective individuals,
But the wealth of the source is seen in the plenitude
of English nature. What variety of power and talent ;
what facility and plenteousnoss of knighthood, lord-
ship, ladyship, royalty, loyalty ; what a proud chivalry
is indicated in " Collins's Peerage/' through eight
hundred years ! What d iirnil.y resting on what reality
and stoutness I What courage in war, what sinew in
labour, what cunning workmen, what inventors and
engineers, what seamen and pilots, what clerks and
scholars ! No one man and no few mon can reprortwit,
thorn. It is a people of myriad personalities. Their
many-headodnees is owing to the advantageous posi-
tion of the middle class, who are always the ouroo of
letters and science. Hence the vast plenty of their
aesthetic production, AH they are many-hcwlcd, w
they are many-nationed : their colonisation tumexen
archipelagoes and continents, and their gpoooh
destined to be the universal language of men. I have
noted the reserve of power in the English temperament.
In the island they never let out all the length of all
the reins, there is no Bersorkir rage, no abandonment
or ecstasy of will or intellect, like that of the Arah
in the time of Mahomet, or like that which intoxicated
France m 1789* But who would see the uncoiling of
that tremendous spring, the explosion of their wall-
husbanded forces, must follow tine awarirti whieh,
pouring now for two hundred years from the British
islands, have sailed., and redo, awUraded, anil planted,
through all climate**, mainly following the belt of
BKSULT. M$
empire, tho trmpomtt', zones, carrying the Saxon seed,
with its instinct for liberty and law, for arts and for
though V -acquiring under Homo Hlcios a more electric
energy than tho native air allows, ~- -to tho conquest
of tho globa Thoir colonial policy, obeying tho
necessities of a vast empire, haa become liberal,
Canada and Australia have boon contented with sub-
stantial independence!. Thoy are expiating tho wrongs
of India, by benefits ; first, in works for the irrigation
of tho peninsula, and roads and telegraphs j and
secondly, in tho instruction of tho puoplo, to qtialify
them for si*lf xovornmcnt, when tho British power
shall bo finally called home.
Their mind is inaatata of arrested development,
a divine cripple Uko Vulcan ; a blind s&twn liko Hubor
and Sandowon, They do not occupy themwolveB on
mattofH of gonoral and lasting import, but on a cor-
portal civiliHation, on goodn that poriwh in tht^ using.
But they rood with good inttint, antl what thoy laarn
they incaritata Thft 'Knglinh mind turnft every ab*
Htraction it can receive into a portable utennil, or a
working hwtitution* Such iw thtnr tenacity, and such
thdr pnusticul tnm, that thay hold all they gain.
I'tcnt'.rt wo nay that only tho English race can bo
trusted with freedom, freedom which i doublo-odgod
and ilan^rrouit tcj any but the wine and robust Tho
English designate the kingdoms emulous of free insti-
tutions as tho (mtimcntal nittionn Their culture i
not an outeiclo varnish, but i thorough and Buuular in
and the ract*. They are oppnwite with their
and all thti mow tliat they are refined,
246 ENGLISH THAITS. [(MAP
I have sometimes seen them walk with my country-
men when I was forced to allow them every advantage,
and their companions scorned hags of bones.
There is cramp limitation m their habit of thought,
sleepy routine, and a tortoise's instinct to hold hard
to the ground with his claws, lest ho should bo thrown
on his back. There is a drag of inertia which resists
reform in every shape ; law-reform, army -reform, ox-
tension of suffrage, Jewish franchise, Catholic emanci-
pation, -the abolition of slavery, of impressment,
penal code, and entails. They praise this drag, tmder
the formula that it is the excellence of the British
constitution that no law can anticipate the public
opinion. These poor tortoises must hold hard, for
they feel no wings sprouting at their shouldwH. Yot
somewhat divine warms at their heart, and waits a
happier hour. It hides in their sturdy will " Will,"
said the old philosophy, ** is the measure of power/'
and personality is the token of this race, Quid wttt
wide w& What they do they do with a will You
cannot account for thoir success by their Christianity,
commerce, charter, common law s Parliament* or letters,
but by the contumacious slurp ton^uctl energy of
English natiwd, with a pome impossible, to disturb,
which makes all these its instruments, They aro slow
and reticent, and are like a dull good home which lets
every na$ pass him, but with whip and spur will run
down every racer in the field They are right in thoir
feeling, though wrong in their speculation.
The feudal system Biurvivtjs in the stop inequality
of property and privilege, in the limited franchise, in
xvni.j
EESULT, 247
the social barriers which confine patronage and pro-
motion to a caste, and still more in the submissive
ideas pervading these peoples. The fagging of the
schools is repeated in the social classes. An English-
man shows no morey to those below him in the social
scale, as ho looks for none from those above him ; any
forbearance from hia superiors surprises him, and they
suffer in his good opinion, But the feudal system
can bo soon with lesa pain on largo historical grounds.
It was pleaded in mitigation of the rotten borough
that it worked well, that substantial justice was done.
Fox, Burko, Pitt, Krnkmo, Wilborforn;, Sheridan,
Romilly, or whatever national man, wore by this
means sent to Parliament, when their return by large
oonstituencutiH would have been doubtful. So now
we say, that tht right mcuwiroa of England are th
men it brad ; that it has yiwldiwl more able men in livo
hundred yearn than any other nation ; and, though
wo imwt not play Providences, and balance the chances
of producing ton groat men against the comfort of
ten thousand moan mon t yot retrospectively we may
Htrike the balances and prefer one Alfred, one Shak-
Bpoare, one Milton, one Sidney, one llaleigh, one
Wellington, to a million foolish democrats.
Tho Amentum system, is more democratic^ more
humane ; yt the Atnorican people do not yield better
or mow able mi% or more inventions or Ivooks or
bonofit^ than the Kugliah. Congrcws i not wiser or
better than Parlianwmt, Franco ha nboUshed ite
auifocating old rfyfw, but is not rocontly marked by
any more wisdom ur virtue.
248 ENGLISH TKAITS. [CKAI.
The power of performance has not been exceeded,
the creation of value. The English have given
importance to individuals, a principal ond and fruit
of every society. Every man is allowed and encour-
aged to be what he is, and is guarded in the indul-
gence of his whim, "Magna Oharfea," said .Rush worth,
"is such a fellow that he will have no novoreign."
By this general activity, and by this sacredness of
individuals, they have in seven hundred years evolved
the principles of freedom. It is the land of patriots,
martyrs, sages, and bards ; and if the ocean out of
which it emerged should wash it away, it will be
remembered as an island famous for immortal laws,
for the announcements of original right which make
the stone tables of liberty*
SPEECH AT MANCHESTER. 249
CHAPTER XIX,
8PKKC3H AT MANOHKBTBR.
A FEW days after my arrival at Manchester, in
November 1847, the Manchester Athouawm gave its
annual Banquet in tho Free Trade Hall With other
guests, I WIIB invited to bo prcwont, and to address the
company. In looking over recently a newspaper re-
port of my remarks, I incline to reprint it, as fitly
oxpruHKin^ the feeling with which 1 entered England,
and which agrees well enough with the more deliber-
ate result* of better acquaintance recorded in tho
foivgohi;.? pagan, Sir Archibald Alison, the historian,
provided) and opened the mooting with a speech* Ho
was followed by Mr. Cobdon, Lord Brackloy, and
others, among whom wa Mr. OnxikBhank, one of tho
mmtrilnitorn to " Punch. w Mr. Diekona^ lotto of
a|H)logy for his ateonoe was read. Mr. 7orrold, who
had boon aiuiotmcecl, did not appear, On being in-
troduced to the meeting I said,-
Mr, Chairman and Oentlmnon It i* pUmaant to
mo to meat thin groat and brillliinfe wnnpany, and
doubly pletMtuit to ee tlio of m many diHtin?-
t on thi pktforai. But 1 have known
250 KNCJLISH TftJUTS. [OHAP.
all these persons already. When I was at home they
were as near to me as they are to you. The argu-
ments of the League and its leader are known to all
the friends of free trade. The gaieties and genius^
the political, the social, the parietal wit of "Punch,"
go duly every fortnight to every boy and girl in
Boston and Now York, Sir, when I came to sea, I
found the " History of Europe " l on the ship's cabin
table, the property of the captain ; a sort of pro-
gramme or play-bill to toll the Hoafaring Now Eng-
lander what he shall find on his landing hero. And
as for Dombey, sir, there is no land whoro paper tixwte
to print on, where it is not found ; no man who can
read, that does not road it, and, if ho cannot, ho findfi
some charitable pair of eyes that can, ami hoars it,
Bat those things are not for mo to say j those
compliments, though true, would hotter como from
one who folt and understood those merits more. I
am not hero to exchange civilities with you, but rather
to speak of that which I am sure interests thono gentle-
men more than their own praises ; of that which IB
good in holidays and working-days ; the aama in one
century and in another century. That which luron a
solitary American in the woods with the wish to nm
England, is the moral peculiarity of the Saxon race, -
its commanding sense of right and wrong, tho love
and devotion to that, this is tho imperial traifc, which
arms them with the aceptre of tho globe, It thin
which lies at tho foundation of that aristocratic char-
acter, which certainly wanders into strange
1 By Sir A, Alison.
WA] BPKBOH AT MANOHBSTBR, 251
so that its origin IB often lost sight of s but which, if it
should lose this, would find itself paralysed ; and in
trade, and in the mechanic's shop, gives that honesty
in performance., that thoroughness and solidity of
work, which is a national characteristic. This con-
science is one element, and the other is that loyal
adhesion, that habit of friendship, that homage of man
to man, running through all classes,- the electing of
worthy persons to a certain fraternity, to acts of
kindness and warm and staunch support, from year
to year, from youth to ago,* which is alike lovely and
honourable to those who render and those who receive
it ;* which atanda in strong contrast with the super-
ficial attachment* of other races, their excessive
courtesy and short-lived connection.
You will think me very pedantic, gentlemen* but,
holiday though it bo, 1 have not the smalioHt interest
in any holiday, except as it celebrates real and not
protended joy ; and I think it just, in this time of
gloom and commercial dktwter, of affliction and bog-
gary in these district*, that, on thoao vary accounts I
p<mk of, you should not fail to koep your literary anni-
vujmry. 1 mum to hoar you ay, that, for all that is
come and gono yet, we will not reduce by one ohaplet
or ono oak loaf tho bravwioa of our annual feast For
I tauat tell you, I wan given to understand in my
ohilclhocxl, that thci British island from which my
forefathers eamo, was no lotus-gardon, no paradise of
wrexie sky, and mnm and, music and merriment all the
year round ; no, but a cold, foggy, mournful country,
whore nathing <<row well in the open air but robust
252 MGLISH TRAITS, [OIIAP.
men and virtuous women, and these of a wonderful
fibre and endurance ; that their best parts wore slowly
revealed ; thoir virtues did not como out until they
quarrelled : they did not strike twelve tho first time ;
good lovers, good haters, and you could know littlo
about them till you had seen them long, and little
good of them till you had seen thorn in action ; that
in prosperity they wore moody anil dumpfah, but in
adversity they were grand. la it not truo, Mir, that
tho wise ancients did not praise the ship parting wit-h
flying colours from the port, but only that bravo sailor
which came back with torn shoote and battered sidcw,
stript of her banners, but having ridden out tho storm I
And so, gentlemen, I fool in regard to thin a#od Eng-
land, with the possessions, honours and trophien, and
also with the infirmities of a thousand years gathering
around her, irretrievably committed m sho now is to
many old customs which cannot bo suddenly changed ;
pressed upon by the transitions of trudo, and new and
all incalculable modes, fabrics, arts, nmohmeH, mid
competing populations, I BOO her not dinpirited, not
weak, but well remembering that 8ho haft ftwii dark
days before ; indeed, with a kind of hwtinct that nhn
sees a littlo bettor in a cloudy day, and that in utorm
of battle and calamity she HUM a secret vigour and
a pulse like a cannon. 1 ao her in hw old agi^
not decrepit, but young, and still daring to holiovo m
her power of endurance and c^pan^ion. BIMIIM^ tJii,
I say, All hail ! mother of nation*, mother of h^ro<mi
with strength Htill equal to tho timo; illl wilt k>
entertain and swift to execute the policy which the
XIX,] SPEECH AT MANCHESTER. 253
mind and heart of mankind requires in the present
hour, and thus only hospitable to the foreigner, and
truly a homo to the thoughtful and generous who ar
bom in the soil So be it 1 so let it be 1 If it be not
so, if the courage of England goes with the chances
of a commercial crisis, I will go back to the capes of
Massachusetts, and my own Indian stream, and say
to my countrymen, the old race are all gone, and the
elasticity and hope of mankind must henceforth re-
main on the AHeghany ranges, or
BEPRESENTATIVE MEN
SKVEN LKOTUUKS
L
USES OF GREAT MEN,
IT is natural to believe in great men* If tho com-
panions of our childhood should turn out to be heroes,
and their condition regal, it would not surprise ua
All mythology opens with demigods, and the circum-
stance is high and poetic; that is, their genius is
paramount. In tho legends of the Qautatna, the first
men ate the earth, and found it deliciously sweet
Nature seems to exist for the excellent. The
world is upheld by the veracity of good men : they
make the earth wholesome. They who lived with
thorn found life glad and nutritious, Lifo is aweet
and tolerable only in our belief in such society ; and,
actually or ideally, we manage to live with superiors.
We call our children and our land by their names,
Their .names are wrought into the verbs of language,
their works and effigies are in our houses, and very
circumstance of the day recalls an anecdote of them.
The search after the great is the dream of youth,
and the mcwt serious occupation of manhood* We
travel into foreign* parts to find his works'if poa-
VOI* IV* K
UKPRMMNTAT1VK MEN*
sible, to get a glimpse of him. But we arc put off
with fortune instead. You say, the English are
practical; the Germans are liOHpitablo; in Valencia*
the climate is delicious ; and in the bills of the
Sacramento, there is gold for tho plliorim:. Yew,
but I do not travel to find wmiforfabV, rich, and
hospitable people, or clear ky, or ingota that cost too
much. But if there were any magnet that would
point to the countries and houses whore aro the
persons who are intrinsically rich and powerful, I
would soil all, and buy it, and put myolf on tins road
to-day,
The race goes with us on thoir credit, Th know-
ledge, that in the city is a man who invent**! the
railroad, raises the credit of all the ottlam But
enormous populations, if they be lw#gar* ore disgust-
ing, like moving cheese, like hills of ante, or of flm
the more, the worse.
Our religion i the love and cherishing of tbtwa
patrons, The gods of fabks aro the ahhung mmntn
of great men, We run all our Into one mould,
Our colossal theologies of Judaism, CbrinUmn, Bud-
dhism, MahoniiittBin, are the n< i i*c k Hsiiry iwtil ntntcturn!
action of the human mind. The atwlont of liwfcury
is like a man going into a warohougo to buy doth or
carpota He fttnciet) he ht a now attMi*, If h #
to the factory, he nhiill find that hk imw ifnf still
repeats the mmlh and rosette which urn ftnmel on
the interior walls of tint pyramids of Thalm Our
theism is the purification of tlu ItiiiiMtn miiwl Man
can paint, or make, or think nothing but man. U
I.] TJ8BS OF GREAT MKN, 259
believes that tho great material elements had their
origin from his thought And our philosophy Ends
one essence collected or distributed.
If now wo proceed to inquire into tho kinds oi
service wo derive from others, let us bo warned of
the clangor of modern studies, and begin low enough*
We must not contend against love, or deny the sub-
stantial existence of other people. 1 know not what
would happon to us. We have social strengths, Our
affection towards others creates a sort of vantage or
purchase which nothing will supply, I can do that
by another which I cannot do alone. I can say to
you what I cannot first say to myself, Other men
arc leno through which wo road our own minds.
Each man seeks thoo of different quality from his
own, and, aiwh as aro good of thwr kind ; that ia, ho
&oekft othor men, and thcs offMnwh The stronger tho
nature, the more it is raaetim Lot us have the
quality pure. A little gonius lot us leave alone. A
main diiftwmea Iwtwbct wen !, whether they attend
their own affair or not, Man i that noble <Mido^n<ms
plant which grows, like thtj palm, from within out-
ward. Ilia own ufftdr, though impoBniblo to others,
Ii6 can upon with celerity and in uport. It is any
to augar to IK* sweet, and to nitre to ho salt Wo
take a great* diml of pains to waylay and entrap that
which of itself will fall into our hands* I count him
a groat man who inhabit* a highlit sphere of thought,
into which other IIHJ.II riwj with labour and difficulty ;
he has but to upntf hw oyoH to we thing** in u true
260b KEPEESWTATIVR MKN, {,
light, and in largo relations ; whilst thf\y mnat make
painful corrections, and kep a vigilant eyo on many
sources of error. His service to us is of like sort,
It costs a beautiful person no exwlion to paint her
imago on our eyas ; yet how splendid IB that benefit 1
It costs no more for a wise soul to convey his qutdity
to other men. And every one can <lo hi best thing
easiest "Peu efe moyem^ faawoup d'c//i n Ha ia groat
who is what ho ii from nature, and who novor reminds
us of others.
But ho must be related to tin, and our life receive
from him some promise of explanation, I cannot tell
what 1 would know $ but I have observed there are
persons who, in their character and actions, answer
questions which 1 have not skill to put, One man
answers some question which none of hi c<m tempo-
raries put> and is isolated* The pant and panning
religions and philosophies answer wme other queitioii
Certain men affect us as rich posnilnlitio^ but holploiw
to themselves and to their tink8B *tho sport, perhaps,
of some instinct that rulon in the air ; - thny do not
speak to our want* But the great are near j wo know
thorn at sight Tltoy satisfy expfHJtetinn, and fall into
place. What is good is oflcictive, generative j makr
for itself room, food, and alliti& A iiotmd apple pro
ducea seed, a hybrid does not, 1 a man in bin
place, ho is constructive, fertile, magnetic, inundating
armies with Ms purpoae, whioh m tiitw Tho
rivor makes its own shores, and kgititti&to Idtm
mai:08 its own channek wad wcktmii', h:irv*'i-i<s ft>r
food, institutions for ttxpi < c^mn t 'wea{)on to fight with,
I.] USKS OF ORKAT MRK. ,261
and dtecipleB to explain it, Tho true artist has the
planet for his pedestal; the adventurer, after years
of strife, has nothing broader than his own shoes.
Our common discourse respects two kinds of use
or service from superior men. Direct giving is
agreeable to the early belief of men ; direct giving of
material or metaphysical aid, as of health, eternal
youth, lino KOHHOB, art of healing, magical power Mid
prophecy. The boy bolievew there IB a teacher who
can sell him window, Churches "believe in imputed
merit But, in strictness, we are not much cognisant
of direct serving. Man is endogenous, and education
is his unfolding. The aid wo have from others is
mechanical, compared with the discoveries of nature
in u. What in thu learned is delightful in the doing,
and the ofFoct remains Eight ethics are central,
and go from the oul outward. Gift is contrary to
the law of tho univerta Serving others is serving
ua 1 muat absolve nm to myself* "Mind thy
affair," Hays tho Hpirit: "coxcomb, would you meddle
with the ttkiuH, or with other people?" Indirect
service is left Mon have a pictorial or roproHonta-
tivo ([twility, ami wjrvo ti in tho intellect Behmon
and SvmlenW^ wtw that tilings were repnv^ntative.
Mon r<i alm> rpn'Utativo ; fiwt^ of thinga, and
ftocoxully, of iclcwa
As pknta convert the minoralts into focxl for
animalft, so oaoh maw convorto mnm mw material in
nature to huma n um The in ventow* of fl re, electricity,
nmgnatittm, iron, lmd t glanH, linen, ilk ootton ; the
ooakort) of tooli; tht Inventor of doeimal notation;
262 UEPKKSKNTATIVK MBN. [L
the geometer; the cn^inror; the nm.*iri;m, scuTiilly
make an easy "way for all, through unknown and
impossible confusions. Each man is, by secret lik-
ing, connected with some district of nature, whose
agent and interpreter ho is, as Linnasra, of plants;
Huber, of boos ; Fries, of lichens ; Van Mona, of pears ;
Dalton, of atomic forms; Euclid, of lines; Newton,
of fluxions,
A man is a centre for nature, running out thrtwuto
of relation through every thing, fluid find solid,
material and elemental The ourth rolls ; very eletd
and stone comes to the meridian: so every organ,
function, acid, crystal, grain of dust, lim ifca raktion
to the brain. It waits long, but Itn turn comen.
Each plant has its parasite^ and each created thing
its lovor and poet. Justice has already been done to
steam, to iron, to wood, to coal, to loadBtono, to iodine,
to corn, and cotton ; but how few materials arc yet
used by our arts! The maw of creatures and of
qualities aro still hid and expectant. It would wont
m if each waited, like the* enchanted prince** in fairy
tales, for a destined human deliverer. Kaeh muBt be
disenchanted, and walk forth to the day in humun
shape, IB the history of diacovory, the rip mid
latent truth seems to have fashioned a brain for Itecill
A magnet must ho made mm in somct Gilbert, or
Swedonborg, or Oersted, before the general mind can
eomo to entertain its powom
If we limit ourdvo to the first lulvtmtagmi ; a
sober grace adheres to the nunoral aiwl Iwtenlc
kin^loms, which, in the highest iu0uumt% up
It ) USK8 OF GREAT MEN. ^63
as the charm of nature,-- the glitter of the spar, tho
Baroness of affinity, tho voracity of angles, Light
and darknesB, heat and cold, hunger and food, sweet
and ROUT, solid, liquid, and gas, circle us round In a
wreath of pleaaurew, and, by their agreeable quarrel,
beguile the day of life. The eye repeats every day
the first eulogy on thinga " Ho saw that they were
good." We know where to find them; and those
performers are relished all the more after a little
experience of tho pretending races, We are entitled,
also, to higher advantages, Something is wanting to
science, until it has been humanised The table of
logarithms in one thing, and itn vital play in botany,
music, optics, and architecture, another. There are
advancements to numbers, anatomy, architecture,
astronomy, little suspected at first, when, by union
with intellect and will, they ascend into the life, and
reappear in convcmitioti, character, and politics.
But thw comes later. We speak now only of our
acsqtiamttmee with them in their own sphere and the
way in which they aeem to fascinate and draw to them
some genius who occupies hJnwelf with one thing all
M life long. Tho possibility of interpretation lien in
tho identity of the observer with the observed. Each
material thing has it* celestial Hide; has its transkr
tiott s through humanity, Into the spiritual and neeee*
Bury sphoro, where it plays a part m indestructible
as any other. And to thow% their ends, all things
nwliwmHy aMGCud. Tho gather to the solid
firmament i the ehemio lump arrives at the plant, and
grows ; arrive** at th# quadruped, and walks ;
264 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [i.
at the man, and thinks. But also the constituency
determines the Tote of the representative. He is not
only representative, but participant. Like can only
be known by like. The reason why he knows about
them is, that he is of them ; he has just come out of
nature, or from being a part of that thing. Animated
chlorine knows of chlorine, and incarnate zinc of
zinc. Their quality makes his career; and he can
variously publish their virtues, because they compose
him. Man, made of the dust of the world, does not
forget his origin ; and all that is yet inanimate will
one day speak and reason. Unpublished nature will
have its whole secret told. Shall we say that quartz
mountains will pulverise into innumerable Werners,
Yon Buchs, and Beaumonts ; and the laboratory of
the atmosphere holds in solution I know not what
Berzeliuses and Davys 1
Thus, we sit by the fire, and take hold on the
poles of the earth. This quasi omnipresence supplies
the imbecility of our condition. In one of those
celestial days, when heaven and earth meet and adorn
each other, it seems a poverty that we can only spend
it once : we wish for a thousand heads, a thousand
bodies, that we might celebrate its immense beauty
in many ways and places. Is this fancy t Well, in
good faith, we are multiplied by our proxies. How
easily we adopt their labours ! Every ship that comes
to America got its chart from Columbus. Every
novel is a debtor to Homer. Every carpenter who
shaves with a foreplane borrows the genius of a
forgotten inventor. Life is girt all round with a
I.] UBKH OF GREAT MEN. 265
zodiac of sciences, tho contributions of mon who have
perished to add their point of light to our sky,
Engineer, broker, jurist, physu-inu, moralist, theo-
logian, and every man, inasmuch as ho has any
science, is a dofinor and map-maker of the latitudes
and longitudes of our condition, These road-makers
on every hand enrich m We must extend the area
of life, and multiply our relations. We are as much
gainers by finding a new property in the old earth as
by juMptirinjJc a new planet,
We are too passive in the reception of these
material or semi-material aidtt. We must not be
sackft and stomachs* To ascend one step, we are
better nerved through our sympathy. Activity i
contagious. Looking whore others look, and con-
versing with the same things, we catch the charm,
whio.h lurod thorn. Napoleon said, "You must not
light too often with one emimy, or you will teach him
all your art of war." Talk much with any man of
vigorous mind, and we acquire very fast the habit of
looking at things in th same light, and, on each
occurrence, we anticipate hit* thought,
Men are helpful through the intellect and tho
afftH'-tiouH* Other help, 1 ilntl a fake appearance.
II you affect to give ma bread and fire, I perceive
that 1 pay for it tho full price, and at last it leaves
mo m it found ino, itotthor better nor worse ; but all
mental and moral force i a pcwitivo good It goes
out from you, whether you will or not, Mid profits
mo whom you never thought of, I cannot ovon hoar
of personal vigour of any kind, groat power of per-
266 HKI'RKSKNTATIVK MEN, [i,
formance, without fresh resolution. Wo are emulous
of all that man can do. Cecil's saying of Sir Walter
Raleigh, "I know that ho can toil terribly," in an
electric touch. So are Clarendon's portraits, of
Hampden ; " who was of an industry and vigilance
not to bo tired out or wearied by tho most laborious
and of parts not to bo imposed on by the mot subtle
and sharp, and of a personal courage equal to his
best parts," -of Falkland; "who was m sovcni an
adorer of truth, that he could as easily have given
himself leave to steal, as to dissemble." Wo cannot
read Plutarch, without a tingling of the blood ; and
I accept the saying of the Chinese Menciua : " A saga
is the instructor of a hundred ages. Whan tho
manners of Loo are heard of, the stupid become
intelligent, and the wavering determined,**
This is the moral of biography ; yet it is hard for
departed men to touch tho quick like our own com-
panions, whose names may not last n long, What
is ho whom I never think oft whilwt in ovary
solitude are those who succour our gouiu#, and stimu-
late us in wonderful manners. There is a power in
love to divine another's destiny better than that othor
can, and, by heroic encourogoiwmtH, hold him to hi
task* What has friendship so signal a its Hublimo
attraction to whatever virtue IB in uaf Wo will
nevermore think cheaply of oursulviK, or of lift), We
ax piqued to some purpose, and the industry of tho
diggers on tho railroad will not again ahomo ua.
Under this head, too, fall** that homagu, very pure,
as 1 think, which all ranks pay to *.ho hero of the
I. J USES OF GKKAT MEN. 267
day, from Coriolanus and Gracchus, down to Pitt,
Lafayette, Wellington, Webster, Lamartino. Hear
the shoxits in tlio street ! The people cannot see Mm
enough. They delight in a man. Here is a head
and a trunk 1 What a front ! what eyes ! Atlantean
shoulders, and the whole carriage heroic, with equal
inward fore to guide the great machine ! This
pleasure of full expression to that which, in their
private experience, IB usually cramped and obstructed,
runs, also, much higher, and is the secret of the
reader's joy in literary genius* Nothing is kept baek,
There is fire enough to fuse the mountain of ore.
Shakspearc/fl principal merit may be convoyed, in say-
ing that he, of all men, best understands the English
language), and can say what he will Yet these
unchoked channels and floodgates of expression are
only health or fortunate constitution* Shakspeare's
name suggests other and purely intellectual benefits,
Senates and sovereigns have no compliment, with
their medals, swords, and armorial coats, like the
addreBHing to a human being thoughts out of a cer-
tain height, and presupposing his intelligence* This
honour, which is possible in personal intercourse
scarcely twice in a lifetime, genius perpetually pays ;
contented, if now and then in a century the proffer
is accepted. The indicators of the values of matter
are degraded to a sort of cooks and confectioners, on
the appearance of the indicators of ideas, Genius is
the naturalifit or #e>o#rnphr of the wipwKcmHible,
regions, and drawn thoir map; and, by acquainting
us with now ftolch of activity, cools our affliction for
268 RKl'KKSKNTATIVK MEN", [r,
the old. These are at once accepted as tho reality,
of which the world wo havo convoked with is tho
show.
We go to tho gymnasium and thii.-wiitmin'jj srhool
to see tho power and beauty of the body ; thore ie
the like pleasure, and a higher ucmoflt, from witwaw-
ing intellectual fonts of all kinds ; as, feata of memory,
of mathematical combination, groat powor of atmtrac*
tion, tho transmuting of the iina^inalimi, ovon versa-
tility, and concentration, OB those aoiw oxpow> tho
invisible organs ami members of tho ttilttd, which
respond, member for motubor, to tho part* of tho
body. For, we thus enter a now ^.ymoashim, and
learn to choose men by their tnitmt marks* taught,
with Plato, "to choose those who can, without ml
from the eyes, or any other senno, proceed to truth
and to being," Foremost among thoao
the summo.rsiudfs, spelk, anci rcHtirrtMttioiw,
by the imagination. Whon this wak<, a mim
to multiply ten times or a thousand titmw hi** fomn
Tb opena the delicious senna of indtitonnmuiu i% unti
inspires an audacious mental habit; Wn arw w elastic
as the gas of ^nnpowd<T, arid a iwnttmt't* in a lm^
or a word dropped in nn \oiKifinii, frms our
fancy, and instantly our heiwls tiro bathwi with
galaxies, and our faot trootl Uie floor of MM Pit, Ami
thi benefit is real, Immm we fire an tit led to
enlargomant% iwtd, onoo having ptuwod th InnnuU,
never a^ain Iw quito tho ntkwble wn
The high functions of the intellect tire r
r.] USES OF GBflAT MEN. 269
fehat some imaginative power usually appears in all
eminent minds, oven in arithmeticians of the first
class, but especially in meditative men of an intuitive
habit of thought. This class serve us, so that they
have the perception of identity and the perception of
reaction. The eyes of Plato, Shakspeare, Sweden-
bo rg, Goethe, never shut on either of these laws.
The perception of theae laws is a kind of meter of the
mind. Little mindw are little, through failure to see
them.
Even thwio feasts have their surfeit. Our delight
in reason degenerate.* into idolatry of the herald.
Especially when a mind of powerful method has
instructed men, we find the examples of oppression.
The dominion of Aristotle, the Ptolemaic astronomy,
the credit of Luther, of Bacon, of Locke, in religion,
the history of hierarchies, of saints, and the sects
which have taken the name of each founder, are in
f>olnt, Aim I every man is such a victim. The
iittlxwUifcy of men ia always inviting the impudence
of powtir. It in the delight of vulgar talent to darale
and to bind the beholder. But true genius seeks to
dtrfond u from itaolf. True genius will not im-
poverish, but will liberate, and add now senses. If
ft who man whould appear in our village, he would
create, in thoae who conversed, with him, a new eon-
of wealth, by opening thoir eyes to unob*
ftdrved advantages; ho would establiBh a sense of
immovable equality, calm us with aaromnees that we
could wot bo cheated ; m ovary one would discern the
oheeka and gtisafjitoes of condition. The rich would
270 JffiPKBSKNTATIVE MBN. [t
see their mistakes and poverty, the poor thoir escapes
and their resources.
But nature brings all this about in duo time.
Rotation is her remedy. Tho soul is inipuliiont of
masters, and oagor for change. Housokoopors say of
a domestic who has been valuable, "She had lived
with me long enough." We are tendencies, or rather,
symptoms, and none of us complete. We touch and
go, and sip the foam of many lives. Botation is the
law of nature. When nature romovcn a great, man,
people explore the horizon for a successor ; but none
comes, and none will. His class is cxtinguishm! with
him. In some other and quite different field, the
next man will appear; not JoffVrson, not Franklin,
but now a great salesman; then a road -contractor;
thon a student of fishes ; then a buffalo -hunting
explorer; or a Kojni-.sa.vago western general. Thua
wo make a stand against our rougher masters ; but
against the bent there ia a finer remedy. Tho power
which they communicate is not theirs, When we are
exalted by ideas, wo do not owo this to Plato, but to
the idea, to which also Plato was debtor.
I must not forgot that wo have a special debt to
a single clasa Life IB a scale of d^groiw, flotwotm
rank and rank of our great man art* wido intorvala
Mankind have, in all ages, attached thunwlvtw to a
fow persona, who, dther by tho quality of that idea
they embodied, or by tho litrgmiesft of tlialr
were entitled to tho portion of laadwuuml l
These teach us tho qualities of primary
admit us to tho constitution of tlrlnga Wo
L] USES OF GHFAT MBN. 271
clay by (lay, on a river of delusions, and arc effectually
amused with houses and towns in the air, of which
the men about us arc dupes. But lifo is a sincerity.
In lucid intervals wo say, " Let there bo an entrance
opened for mo into realities ; I have worn the fool's
cap too long." Wo will know the meaning of our
economics and politics. Give us the cipher, and, if
persons and things are scores of a celestial music, let
us road off the strains. We have boon cheated of
our reason; yet there have been sane men, who
enjoyed a rich and related existence, What they
know, they know for us. With each new mind a
now secret of nature transpires ; nor can the Bible be
closed until tho last great man is born. Those men
correct the delirium of the animal spirits, make us
considerate, and engage us to new aims and powers.
The veneration of mankind selects these for the
highest place. Witness the multitude of statues,
pictures, and mmnorudfl, which recall their genius in
every oily, village, home, and ship : ~
** ICwr thttir phantom* ariie Ix'fone ua,
Our loftiw hrotliwra, l)ttt QUO in blood ;
At fowl wul tablet thoy lord it o'or us,
With looks of beauty, antl words of good,'*
How to illustrate tho distinctive benefit of ideas,
the service rendered by those who introduce moral
tnitlw into the general mind ? T am plagued, In all
my living, with a perpetual tariff of prices. If I work
in my gartltm, and prime an apple-tree, 1 am well
tmough (mtortainod, and could continue indefinitely in
thti Hko t>w*uj)aiwn, But it oomBB to mind that a
272 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [i.
day is gone, and I have got this precious nothing
done, 1 go to Boston or New York, and run up and
down on my affaire : they are sped, but so is the day.
I am vexed by the recollection of this price 1 have
paid for a trifling advantage. 1 remember the peau
d'ane, on which whoso sat should have his dosiro, but
a piece of the skin was gone for every wink 1 go to
a convention of philanthropists. !)<> what I can, I
cannot keep my eyes off the clock But if there
should appear in the company some gentle soul who
knows little of persons or parties, of Carolina or Ouba,
but who announces a law that disposes these particu-
lars, and so certifies mo of the equity which chock-
mates every false player, bankrupts ovory aelf-aookor,
and apprises me of my independence on any con-
ditions of country, or time, or human body, that man
liberates me ; I forget the clock, I pass out of the
sore relation to persons, T am hoalocl of my hurte.
I am made immortal by apprehending my po8oHum
of incorruptible goods. Here is great oompoiifiou of
rich and poor, We live in a market, whiiro i only
so much wheat, or wool, or land ; and if I have so
much more, every other must have HO much l<m
I scorn to have no good, without, broach of good
manners. Nobody is glad in tho gladncw of another,
and our system is one of war, of an injurious upori-
ority. Every child of the Maxoii race fa educated to
wish to be first It is our system ; and a mun
to measure his greatness by the rogret, 0nvi<w MM!
hatreds of his nmipH.it.urs. But in thwantiw fiokb
there is room ; hero are w olf-esteom no
g USTCS OF GREAT MKN, 273
I admire groat men of all classes, those who stand
for facts, and for thoughts ; I liko rough and smooth,
"Scourges of God," and "Darlings of tho human
raco." 1 like the first CJaasar; and Charles V. of
Spain; and Charles XIL of Sweden; Bichard Han-
taganot; and Bonaparte, in France. I applaud a
sufficient man, an officer equal to his office ; captains,
ministers, senator**, I liko a master standing firm
qn legs of iron, well born, rich, handsome, eloquent^
loaded with advantages, drawing all men by fascina-
tion into tributaries and supporters of his power.
Sword and staff, or talents sword-like or staff-like,
carry on the work of tho world But I find him
greater when he can abolish himself, and all heroes,
by letting in this ^lament of reason, irro.spo<'t.ivo of
persons ; this snlitiliser, and irresistible upward force,
into our thought, destroying individualism; the |>owor
so great, that the potentate is nothing. Then he is a
monarch, who gives a constitution to his people; a
pontiff, who preaches the equality of souls, and re-
leases his servants from their barbarous homages ; an
emperor, who can spare bin empire,
But 1 intended to specify, with a little minuteness,
two or three poiuta of service. Nature never spares
the opium or nopmitho ; but, wherever she mar her
crcwtuw with Home deformity or defect^ lays her pop-
pioH plentifully on tho bruise, and the sufferer goes
joyfully through lifts ignorant of the ruin, and incap-
able of wciing it, though all the world point their
VOL IV, T
274 BEPBESBNTA.TIVK MEN, [i.
finger at it every day. The worthless and offensive
members of society, whoso oxistonco in a social post,
invariably think themselves the most ill-used people
alive, and never get over their astonishment at the
ingratitude and selfishness of their con temporaries
Our glohe discovers its hidden virtues, not only in
heroes and archangels, but in gossips and nuraea is
it not a rare contrivance that lodged the due inertia
in every creature, the conserving, resisting energy,
the anger at being waked or changtsdl Altogether
independent of the intellectual force in each, is the*
pride of opinion, the security that we are right, Not
the feebleet gnmdamo, not a mowing idiot, but uaet
what spark of perception and faculty In loft, to chuckles
and triumph in his or her opinion over the absurdities
of all the rest, Difference from mei& the mtuwuro of
absurdity. Not ono has a mi^iviw; of being wrong.
Was it not a bright thought that made things cohere
with this bitumen, fastest of ccmenta! But, in the
midst of this chuckle of aolf-gratulation, some figure
goes by, which Tkondtes too can love and admire.
This is he that should marshal u the way we wore
going. There is no and to hw aid. Without Plato,
we should almost lose our faith in the possibility of a
reasonable book. Wo *&cm to want but ono, hut we
want one. We love to associate with heroic ponton*,
since our receptivity i unlimited; and, with tlxo
great, our thoughts and manner* eunily hecomo groat
W arts all wise in capacity, though m few in <mMrgy.
There needs but one wise man in a company, and all
are wise, so rapid is the ecmtagioi
t) tISKS OF GKKA.T MKN. 275
Great men are thus a colly rmm to clear our eyos
from egotism, and enable us to aeo other people and
their works. But there aro vices and follies incident
to whole populations and ages. Men resemble their
conteniporarioH even more than their progenitors
It is observed in old couples, or in persons who have
been housemates for a course of years, that they grow
alike j and, if they should live long enough, we should
not be able to know them apart. Nature abhors these
complaiwitu'.! 1 ,-;, which threaten to melt the world into
a lump, and hastens to break up such maudlin aggluti-
nations. The like assimilation goes on between men
of one town, of (me sect, of one political party \ and
the idem of the time ara in the airy and infect all who
breathe It Viewed from any high point, this city
of New York, yonder city of London, the western
civilisation, would, seem a bundle of insanities. We
keep each other in couutimaiuu*, and exasperate by
emulation the frenxy of the time. The shield against
the fltiugiugH of acmBdonco, is the umverml practice,
or our (HmtcmponmVB. Again j it is very easy to be
w wiao and good M your companions. Wo learn of
tuir oontwiiporariw what they know, without effort,
find almost through the pomi of the skin. We catch
it by -sympathy, or, a a wife arrives at the* intellectual
'ml moral elevations of har husband, But we stop
whom tluiy atop. Very hardly can we another
ikip The groat, or such an hold of nature, and
mtttetffid fiwhicniB, by their fidelity to uiitvowwi ideas,
ira aaviotun from these federal errors, and defend its
'rom our csontompilrariea Thy are thu exceptions
276 REPRESMTATIVK MEN. [i
which we want, wlioro all grows alike. A foreign
greatness is the antidote for cabalism.
Thus we feed on genius, and refresh ourselves
from too much conversation with our mates, and
exult in the depth of nature in that direction in which
he leads us. What indemnification is one great man
for populations of pigmies ! Every mother wishes
one son a genius, though all the rest should bis medi-
ocre. But a new danger appears in the excess of
influence of the great man. His attractions warp UH
from our place* We have become underlings and
intellectual suicides. Ah 1 yonder in the hormm in
our help : other great men, new qualities, counter-
weights and checks on each other, Wa cloy of the
honey of each peculiar greatness. Every hero becomes
a bore at last Perhaps Voltaire wan not bad-hearted,
yet he said of the good Jesus, even, <f I pray you, let
me never hear that man's name again." They cry tip
the virtues of George Washington,- " Damn George
Washington 1 " is the poor Jacobin 1 ! whole speech and
confutation, But it is human nature's mdisj;mnabl
defence* The eentripotence augments the eentrifu-
gence. We balance one man with his oppomta, and
the health of the state depends on the soo-saw*
There is, however, a speedy limit to the uw of
heroes. Every genius is defended from approach by
quantities of imavailablenesa They are vary attrac-
tive, and seem at a distance our own; but wn tire
hindered on all sides from approach. The more we
are drawn, the more we are repelled. Thaw Is Home-
thing not solid in the good that is done for u, Tho
i,] USES OF GEWAT MM, 277
best discovery the discoverer makes for himself. It
has something unreal for his companion, until he too
has substantiated it, It seems an if the Deity dressed
each soul which ho Bends into nature in certain virtues
and powers not communicable to other men, and,
Bonding it to perform one more turn through the
circle of beings, wrote "M fomsfwalifa" and "Gfoodfrn*
tkk trip only" on theae garments of the soul There
i Hommvhat deceptive about the intercourse of nainda.
The boundaries are invisible, but they are never
crossed. There is such good will to impart, and such
good will to receive) that each threatens to become the
other | but the law of individuality collects its secret
strength ; you are you, and I am I, and BO wo remain.
For Nature wishes everything to remain itself;
and, whilst every individual strives to grow and
exclude, and to exclude and grow, to the extremities
of the univoriw, and to impose the law of its being
on every other creature, Nature steadily aims to
protect each against every other. Each is self-
defended. Nothing is mora marked than the power
by which individuate are guarded from individuals,
in a world where evury benefactor becomes so easily a
malefactor, only by continuation of his activity into
placet* wtmn* it i not clue j where children seem so
much at the mercy of their foolish parents, and where
almost all men are too social and interfering. We
rightly ttpoak of the guardian angels of children.
How superior in their security from infusions of
evil pcireoiw, from vulgarity and second thought!
They died their own abundant beauty on the objects
278 REPRESENTATIVE MKN. [i.
they behold. Therefore, they are not at tho mercy
of such poor educators as we adulta. If wo huff and
chide them, they soon come not to mind it, and got a
self-reliance ; and if wo indulge thorn to folly, they
learn the limitation elsewhere.
We need not fear CXCOBHIVO influence. A more
generous trust is permitted. Serve the groat Hticsk
at no humiliation* Grudge no office thou canst
render. Be the limb of their hotly, the brcmth of
their mouth. Compromise thy egotism. Who cares
for that, so thou gain aught wider and nobler 1 Novw
mincl the taunt of Boswellfam: the dovotkm may
easily be greater than the wretched prida which w
guarding its own skirts. Be another: not thyaolf,
but a Platonist; not a soul, but a Ghrwtian; not a
naturalist, but a Cartesian ; not a poet, but a Bliak-
sperian. In vain, the wheels of tendency will not
stop, nor will aH the forces of inertia, fear, or of love
itself, hold thee there. On, and for over onward I
The microHcope observes a monad or wheel- intuit
among the infuaories circulating in water. Prwwmtly,
a dot appears on the animal, which enlarges to a slit*
and it becomes two perfect animak Th uvw-pro-
coeding detachment appears not lew in all thouglit,
and in society. Children think they cannot livo
without their parents. But, long before thy ara
aware of it, the Umk dot hatt appmrnl, and tita
detachment taken place, Arty accident will now
reveal to them their independence,
But great mm^ the word is tiijuriom Is there
I.] U8K8 OF GEKAT MM. 270
easfcol ii there fatal What "becomes of the promise
to virtue 1 The thoughtful youth laments tho super-
fetation of nature, "Generous and handsome," he
says, ** i your hero ; but look at yonder poor Paddy,
whoso country I his wheelbarrow ; look at his whole
nation of Paddies." Why are -the masses, from the
dawn of history down, food for knives and powder 1
The idea dignifies a few leaders, who have sentiment,
opinion, lovo, aelf-dovoticm \ and they make war and
death Kacnnl ; but what for the wretches whom they
hire and kill I The cheapness of man is every day's
tragedy, it is w real a low that others should be
low, aft that we should be low; for we must have
socioty.
la it a reply to these suggestions, to say society is
a Petttalos&ian school ; all are teachers and pupils in
turn. We are equally nerved by receiving and by
imparting. Men who know the wine things are not
long tho beat company for each other. But bring to
wieh an intelligent person of another rxpcrio.mw, and
it is m if you lot off water from a lake, by cutting a
lower btwin. It a mechanical advantage, and
great bwwlit it in to each speaker, as ho can now paint
out hi thought to himselt We very fast, in
our personal mowto, from dignity to dependence*
And if any appear never to awume tho chair, but
always to Httind and swva, it m because wo do not
fltxi tlto company in a wifflciontly long period for the
whole* rotation of parte to como about As to what
w call tho uuumoH, and common mm j- -there are no
oouimon luou. AR muu are at lust of a si^e; and
280 KK1MIKSKNTATIVK MKN, [t.
true art is only possible, on the conviction thab
every talent has its apotheosis somewhem Fair play,
and an open field, and freshest laurels to all who Imvo
won thorn ! But heaven reserve* an wjual Hcnpo foi
every creature. Each in uneasy until ho has produce*!
his private ray unto the concave sphere, and boholcl
his talent also in its last nobility and exaltation.
The heroes of the hour are rolativoly great : of ft
faster growth; or they are such, in whom, at- tho
moment of success, a quality is ripo which SH thtm in
request. Other clays will demand, othor qualitm
Some rays escape tho common observer, and want a
finely adapted eye* Ak the groat man if tlwru bo
none greater. His companions arc ; and not tint li,w
great, but tihe more, that society cannot m thwn,
Nature never sends a great man into th pitting with-
out confiding tho secret to anothor soul
One gracious fact amorges from tlwn
that there is true ascension in our lova Th
tkms of the ninotoonth century will mm day ba
quoted, to prove its barbarism* Tha giitittw of
humanity is tho real subject whoso bi';ri\ph\ in
written in our annain* We must infer xnu<*h t and
supply many chasnin in the* roccml, Tho hifury of
the universe is synipi<iiujifi\ and life*, In nmmmmk&t
No man, in all tho proetwion of ftmunta nicm, t rwfii
or illuxnination, or that emuce wn w**m kicking fnr ;
but is am exhibition, in <|uartr T of naw
bilitJos* Could we one day eoniplalci the himmm
figure which thwo flagrant poiutM ct>ttt|KsaJ Tim
study of many imlivldual* loads us to an
L] USES OF GRKAT MEN. 281
region wherein tho individual is lost, or wherein all
touch by their summits. Thought and fooling, that
break out there, cannot bo impounded by any fence
of personality. This is tho key to tho power of tho
greatest mem, their spirit diffuses itself, A new
quality of tnind travels by night and by day, in con-
centric circlcw from its origin, and publishes itself by
unknown methods; tho union of all minds appears
intiiuato : what gate admission to ono, cannot bo kept
out of any other : tho nmallest acquisition of truth or
of energy, in any quarter, is BO much good to tho
commonwealth of souk, If the disparities of talent
and position vauwli, when the individuals are seen in
the duration which m necessary to complete the career
of each ; ovou more swiftly tho seeming injustice dis-
appears, wlum we ascend to the central identity of all
the individuals, and know that they are made of the
fiubtano which onlainoth and doeth,
T hfl genius of humanity i tho right point of view
of history* Tho (jualities abide ; tho mm who exhibit
thorn hates now moro, now hm, and pass away ; the
(lualitien nnnain on another brow* No oxporicnce is
more familiar, Chun* you saw phtmuxos: they are
gone , tho world i not theraforo disouchontecl The
VOHO!H on wlitfih you read saerad emblems turn out to
bo common jx>ttwy ; but the aenie of tho pictures is
sacred, and you may still road thorn transferred to tine
walla tif tho world. For a time our teachers serve us
Ijommally, m motowi or miloBtonos of progress. Once
tfaoy wtva aitgok of knowbdge, and their figures
touched the sky, * Than we drew near, Haw their
282 UKI'KBSKNTATIYK MEN. [ L
moans, culture, and limits; and they yielded thoit
place to other genmsoa. Happy, if a few names
remain so high, that wo have riot- ten ablo to wul
them nearer, and ago and comparinon have not robbed
thorn of a ray, But, at last, wo Khali ewwe to look in
men for completeness, and tshall content oiirnelves with
their social and dologatoil quality. All that retipcctB
the individual is temporary and prnspi'Hivc, Hfej th
individual himself, who is ascending out of hi* liniite
into a catholic existence* We havo nevw come at
the true and best benefit of any gtmhw, no long ai wo
believe him an original force* In tho moment whan
he ceases to help us m a cauiw, ho begins tc* help u
more as an effect Then ha appaaw iw an exponent
of a vaster mind and will The opaque naif bocomw
transparent with the light of the Fiwt ( %uaci
Yet, within the limits of hunmn wluration and
agency, we may say, great man oxUt that thaw may
bo greater men, The destiny of nr;;im:<nl nuturo in
ameHoiation, and who can tell itolimitH? It in for
man to tamo the chaos j on w,ry id, whilst h
lives, to scatter tlio seeds of mimw and of wmg, tiiat
climate, coni, animal^ men, way ki niililw, ami the
genns of love and benefit may bo
II
PLATO; OR, THE PHILOSOPHER
AMONG boob, Plato only w entitled to Omar's fanatical
compliment to tho Koran, when he said, "Burn the
libraries ; for thoir value is in this book," Those
wntonccB contain tho culture of nations ; Him are
the corner-stone of schools; thtuie are tho fountain
head of literatures. A discipline it is in logic, arith-
metic, tofito, symmetry, poutry, language, rhetoric^
ontology, morale or practical wisdom, There wns
novcr such of apflculation, Out of Plato come
all things that are still written anil climated among
men of thought Groat havoc makes he among our
origiualitm Wo have reached the mountain from
which all these drift houldora ware detached The
Bible of the learned for twonty two hundred years,
ovory brink young roan, who 8ay in miooodBion fino
things to aaeh nJuctwat K^H'rulion, TiJU'thiuH, Bubo-
laiB, KmmuB, llruno, Lockci t liwwHwiu, Alfleri, Cole*
ridg(\ ia some wador of Plato, traimlatmg into th
vwiuumlar, wittily, hia good thingB. Even the men
of grander proportion nuflbr omn daduction from the
284 EKPKRSKNTAT1VB MKtf. [it.
misfortune (shall 1 Ray 1) of coming aff^r this exhaust-
ing generalise!*. St. Augustine*) < 'HpmiicuK, Newton,
Behmen, Swodenborg, Gootho, are likewise his debtor*,
and must say aftor him. For it in fair to credit the
broadest tfcnoralisor with all tho partienkra deduciblo
from his thesis.
Plato is philosophy, and philosophy Plato,- -at
onco tho glory and the shame of mankind, since neithw
Saxon nor lioman ha availod to add any idaa to his
categories. No wife, no eluldron had h, and tho
thinkers of all civilised nation** are hw pt^icrily, and
arc tinged with his mind. How many groat man
Nature is int.KHantly Bending up out of night, to be
his wm,-~MatoniatB I the Akixnndriiaw f a conntoHation
of genius; the EliisabethftJiR, not loan; Sir Thotww
More, Honry More, John HnJkm, John Bmith, Lortl
Bacon, Jeremy Taylor, Kalph Oudworth, Svdfitluun,
Thomas Taylor ; Mawnlius Fioiniw, and PicuM M5nai
dola* Calvinism is in hia Phit^lo j Clhristiaiiity is in
it Maliomotanifim draw all it philoMophy, in its
liandbook of morals, th AkhWc-y-JAln-Iy, from him,
Myfiticiam finds m Plato all its text*. Thin (uttxtm
of a town in Greoco fe no vtllttger nor patriot An
Englishman rearln and aay, "how English !'* a (Smium,
"how Teutonic!" an ltoliiiii'"lww litmmit and
how Groak 1" As they any that f ftttoit of Argon luul
that wnivonwl beauty that '\<*rylMH!y fall niktwl to
bar, ao Plato soam*, to a rwukr m Nw Knglaml, t
Amorican gmitM, !!ii broad htnuuiui^ tnwmeiil nil
sectional linen
This tango of Plato itfcntcti nS what to tliink of
II,] PLATO ; OK, THE PHILOBOPHER, 285
the vexed question c< mr.cn iiii Im reputed works,
what are genuine, what spurious. It is singular that
wherever we find a man higher, by a whole head, than
any of his contemporaries, it is sure to cotnc into
doubt what are IUB real works. Th.ua, Homer, Plato,
Baffaoile, ShakupcHm For these men magnetise
their oonU'inpnrarnw, so that their companions can do
for them what they can never do for themselves \ and,
the great man does thus live in several bodies, and
write, or paint, or act, by many hands ; and, after
some time, it is not eaay to say what is the authentic
work of the master, and what is only of Ms school,
Plato, too, like every great man, consumed Ms own
times* What is a great man, but one of great affinities,
who takea up into himself all arts, sciences, all know-
allies, as his foodf Ho can spare nothing; he can
dispose of everything. What is not good for virtue
is good for knowledges. Hence his contemporaries tax
him with plagiarism. But the inventor only knows
how to borrow; and society ia glad to forget the
innumerable labourers who ministered to this archi-
tect, and renervos all its gratitude for him. When
we are prawing Plato, it seems we are praising quota-
tions from Bolon, and Sophron, and Philolaus. Be
it so. Every book ia a quotation ; and every house is
a quotation out o! all forests, and mines, and stone
quarries ; and every man is a quotation from all his
anoeatowL And thw grasping inventor pute all nations
imdur contribution,
Plato absorbed the learning of his times, Philo-
laua, Timwufl, HemiKtun, Pantumideu,, attd what else;
286 RKPRWSBNTATIVB MB& [IL
then his master, Socrates; and, finding himself ntill
capable of a larger synthesis, beyond all example
then or since, -he travelled into Italy, to gain what
Pythagoras had for him ; then into Egypt, and per-
haps still farther east, to import the other element,
which Europe wanted, into the European mind. Thin
breadth entitles him to stand as the representative of
philosophy. Ho says, in the Itopublic, " Such a genra
as philosophers must of necessity have, is wont but
seldom, in all its parts, to meet in one man ; but ite
different parts ^enoiully spring up in different persons,"
Every man, who would do anything well, muHt come
to it from a higher ground, A philosopher must be
more than a philosopher, Plato is clothed with the
powers of a poet, stands upon the highest place of the
poet, and (though 1 doubt he wanted the decisive gift
of lyric expression) mainly i not a poet, because he
chose to use the poetic gift to an ulterior purpose,
Great geniuses have the shortest biographic^
Their cousins can toll you nothing about them,
They lived in their writings, and HO their house and
street life was trivial and uommon place. If you
would know their tastes and complexions, the most
admiring of their readers most resembles thorn.
Plato, especially, ha no external biography. If ho
had lover, wife, or children, we hear nothing of
them. He ground them all into paint. As a good
chimney burns its smoke, so a philonnphw converts
the value of all Im fortunes into his intellectual
performances.
He wan bom 430 A.a, about t\*\ timo of the death
ii, j PLATO; OE, TUK PHILOSOPHER. 27
of Policies ; was of patrician connection in Ms times
and city ; and is said to have had an early inclination
for war ; but, in his twentieth year, meeting with
Soeratee, was easily dissuaded from this pursuit, and
remained for ten years his scholar, until the death of
^ocraten. I lie then wont to Mogara; accepted the
invitations of Dion and of Piony.sius, to the court of
Sicily ; and wont thither three times, though very
capriciously treated, lie travelled into Italy; then
into Kgypt, whore ho stayed a long time ; some say
three,- wmt Hay thirteen yours. It is said he went
farther, into ISabyloma; this ia uncertain. "Returning
to Athens, he gave lessons, in the Academy, to those
whom his fame drew thither ; and died, as we have
received it> in the act of writing, at eighty-one years.
But the biography of Plato is interior. We are
to account for the supreme elevation of this man in
the intellectual history of our raco, -how it happens
that* in proportion to the culture of mon, they become
his scholars ; that, as our Jowroh Bible has implanted
itself in the table-talk and household life of every man
and woman in tho European and American nations,
so the writings of Plato have prv,iwoupi<Ml every school
of learning, every lover of thought, every church,
every poo V -making ^ impossible to think on certain
levels, except through him. He stands between the
truth and ovwy man's mind, and has almost impressed
language, aucl tho primary forms of thought, with his
mum and sml I am struck, in reading him, with
the* extreme wodorunoss of his styl< and spirit Here
in tho germ of thftt Kuroptt wo know so wall, In its
288 liKVUKSENTATIVF, MEN, [n,
long history of arts and -awns ; here are all its traits,
already discernible in the mind of Plato, and in none
before him. It has spread itself since into a hundred
histories, but has added no new element This per-
petual modernness is the measure of merit, in every
work of art ; since the author of it wan not misled by
anything shortlived or local, but abode by real and
abiding traits, How Plato came thus to be Europe,
and philosophy, and almost littttuUirc, Is the problem
for us to solve.
This could not have happened, without a Hound,
sincere, and catholic man, able to honour, at the same
time, the ideal, or laws of the mind, and futo, or the
order ef nature. The first period of a nation, m of
an individual, is the period of unr.otwc.iww Htrengtk
(Jhildren cry, scream, atul stamp with fury, unable to
express their desires. As soon an they can npuak and
toll their want, and the rootson of it, they become
gentle. In adult life, whilst the iwrtwption are
obtuse, men and women talk vehemently and Htiptir*
latively, blunder and quarrel ; their mtumora arc full
of desperation ; their speech is full of oafelm As BOOH
as, with culture, tilings have cleared up a little, and
they soo them no longer in lumps and maMWH, but iimm-
rately distributed, they cksmst from that weak vehe-
mence, and explain their moaning in detail If th
tongue had not been frumod for ftrt&mlatjun, raau
would still be a boaat in the foraat Th Hamo wtmk
ness and want, on a higher plane, owtufti diiily 1 in tho
education of iwtkmfe young u*.n arid wuttum. ** Ah !
you don*t undoratand m ; I have ncnw mt with any
a] PLATO J Oil, THE I'lULOSOPHETl. 289
one who oompntfionds mo ;" awl they sigh and weep,
write verses, antl walk alone, fault of power to
express their procino moaning, In a month or two,
through the favour of their good genius, they moot
some one o related as to annist their volcanic estate ;
and, good communication being once established, they
are thenceforward good citizens- It ia ever thus,
Tho progress is to accuracy, to nkill, to truth, from
blind force,
There* i a momcmt, in the history of every nation
when, profiling out of thin brute youth, tho peroep
tivcs jwworn nmch thoir ripouosa, and have not yot
becomes microscopic ; so that man, at that instant,
oxtomlM ar.roaa tho entire scale ; and, with his foot
till planted on tho httinono forces of night, con*
vewd^ by hi i^yr-s and brain, with nolar and stellar
creation. That in tho niomout of adult health, tho
culmination of power.
Such w tho ltitory of Kurop, in all points ; ami
8Uuh in pliil<*sopli\ . ItH early reoordu, almost porished,
are of thw iuiini^r:licins from AwiSj bringing with them
the (Iroama (rf barbarian* ; a ctmfiwion of crude notions
of rnoralM, and of natural philosophy, gradually sub-
Hiding, through tho partial itutight of single toaohom
Hoforo Portcli^ twmo tho Svven Wino Ma^tors, and
wa havo tho boginningrt of goouwst-ry, tuoi-apliysu-s, and
othicK: tluw tho puHiuliHts, "iloducing tho'origiuof
thingB fnnn flux or water, or from air, or from fire, or
from mind. All mix with these oautiog mythologio
pteturoi*. At hint vmmm I*lato, tho distributor, who
utHMtH HO btirbarkf paint or tattoo, or whooping ; tor
VOL IV, CJ
290 BKFRKHENTAT1VK M1K, f u ,
ho can defina Ho leaves with Asia tho vast and
superlative ; lie is the arrival of accurary and intelli-
gence. ** Ho shall bo an a gml to mo, who can rightly
divide and defina"
This defining is philosophy, Philosophy ig the
account which the human mind givus to itwlf of the
constitution of tho world. Two cardinal ftwte lie
for over at tho baao ; tho cmo, ittid th two,- - 1. Unity,
or Identity ; and 2* Vanoty, Wu uwta all thing,
by poivi'iviny tho law which ptrvadiK thorn ; by per-
ceiving tho sujMirficlal different WM and t.ho profound
resemblances But every monttil ant, -iliw vary per-
ception of identity or onenow, rcM)-ni..o : tho diffRince
of things* Onenw anl otheriiwn. It in itupo;wil>I
to speak* or to think, without embracing both.
The mind in tirgwl to nsk for mw r.au>to of many
effects ; then for the CUUAA of that ; and again fcho
cause, diving till into tho profound : m^tmmrml tltat
it shall arrive at an absolute and uutfhmwfe ono, a cine
that shall bo all ** In the midnt of ih mut h the li^ltt,
in tho midst of tho light fa truth, and in tho midst
of truth is the iinpfrishablo Iwing," way tlm Vcidiw.
All philosophy, of eafc and wwt, htw th wamo noittri-
potonoa Urgod by nn oppoMito iieci^^ity, tho mind
returns from tho on% to that which i not onu, but
other or many ; from to oiftuit ; and affirm* the
necessary existence of variety, th of
both, aa each k involved In the other, Tlttwi MtricUy
Mended elements it is tht$ problnm of thought to
separate, and to wconcik. Thdv h mutu-
ally contradictory and ixeluifvts j fl nwl so tot
n.] PLATO J OB, THE PHILOSOPHER. 291
slides into the other, that wo can never say what is
ones &jul what It is not, The Protons is as nimble in
the highest m in the lowest grounds, whon wo con-
template the one, the true, the good, as in the sur-
faces and GxtwmiticB of matter,
In all nations, thero are minds which incline to
dwell in the conception of the fundamental Unity,
The raptures of prayer and ecstasy of devotion lose
all being in one Being, This tendency finds its
highest oxpriwion in the religious writings of the
Kaat, and chiefly, in tho Indian Scriptures, in the
VwloH, tlu* I'lui^a-vjif Uwta, and, tho Vishnu Pnrana,
Those writings contain little also than this idea, and
thay rises to pure and sublime strains in celebrating
it,
Tho Kiuno, tho Sanw : friend and foe ar of one
stuff; tho ploughman, thci plough, and the furrow,
are of onu taff ; and, tha stuff is such, and so much,
that tho variations of form arc unimportant ** You
are fit" (wiyu tho supreme Krishna to a sage) *'to
apprehend that you are not distinct from me. That
which I am, thou art, and that also is this world, with
its gods, and htiroctt, and mankind. Men contemplate
diHtmction, bw,at they are stupefied with ignor-
ance" " f n> wofd I and mine constitute ignorance.
What IB tha great end of all t you shall now learn from
ma It 18 Boul,"-<mfl in all l>odi<, pcrvdiufr, uniform,
perfect, pn I'liiincttt' over nature, exempt from birth,
growth, tffld decay, omnipresent, made up of true
knowledges, mdqumdcnt, unconnootod with unreuditios,
%vith natiK 1 , spocieif and tho rent, in time pat, present,
S92 ttKI'KEBKNTATIVE HEN. [n,
and to come, The knowledge that this spirit, which
is essentially one, is IB one's own, anui in all other
bodies, is the wisdom of one who knows the unity of
things. As one diffusive air, j>awn# through tho
perforations of a flnto, is (listinguinhcd as the notes
of a scale, so tho nature of the Great Spirit i single,
though its forms bo manifold, arising from the con-
sequences of acta When the difftwneo of the invest-
ing form, as that of God, or th rent, i destroyed,
there is no distinction." " TIui whole world is but a
manifestation of Vishnu, who in idontinal with all
things, and is to be regarded by tho wii, IMS not
differing from, but as tho muno as thonwohm I
neither am going nor coming ; nor k my dwelling in
any one place; nor art thou, thou; not am others,
others; nor am I, I." A if ha hatl wuM, "All I for
tho soul, and the soul is Vinhnu ; and animalM and
stars are transient painting ; and light is whitewash ;
and durations are docoptivo; and form ii imprison-
meat ; and hoavon itself a <lm'(y," That which the
Hotil seeks w reohttion into being, ulmvo form, out of
TartaniH, and out of hcuwn, li)ifr;liin from nature,
If Hpeculatiou titd thtw to a tttrriilc unity, in
which all thinp are absorbed* action Umiln ctirwtly
backwards to diversity, Tho lirat ! tho courtto or
gravitation of mind; tho '%eond ii th fnwttr of
natura Nature w tho manifold Tho unity ftborl>i,
and malts or reduces* Nature ojMUfi iind
Those two prinwploH rtiappmr and iiitorpwiiitrttte nil
things, all thought ; tho one, tho many. Oiw la bmng ;
the other, iwtUcfc ; <mo iwtmniitf ; tJi other.
II.) PLATO ) OR, THE PHILOSOPHER. 293
freedom : one, rest ; the other, motion : one, power ;
the other, distribution ; one, strength ; the other,
pleasure : one, consciousness ; the other, definition :
one, genius ; the other, talent : one, earnestness ; the
other, knowledge : ono, possession ; the other, trade ;
ono, caste ; the other, culture ; one, king ; the other,
democracy : and, if wo dare carry those generalisations
a atop higher, and name the last tendency of both,
wo might Bay, that the end of the ono is escape from
organisation,- ' pure Bcieneo; and the end of the other
is the highest instrumentality, or uso of means, or
executive deity.
Each student adheroB, "by temperament and by
habit, to the first or to the second of these gods of
the mind By religion, lie tends to unity ; by intel-
lect* or by the senses, to the many, A too rapid
unification, and an xeesBive appliance to parts Mid
particular*, are the twin dangers of speculation.
To thia partiality the history of nations corre-
sponded, The country of unity, of immovable institu-
tions, thei seat of a philosophy delighting in abstrac-
tions, of mw faithful in doctrine and in practice to
the* idea of a d<*af, unimplorablo, immense fate, is
Aria ; and it realiMOH this faith in the social institution
of casto, On the other side, the genius of Europe is
active and creative: it resists canto by culture; its
philosophy wiw a discipline; it in a land of arts,
invention*, trades, freedom. If the East loved infinity,
the Wist delighted in boundaries,
European civility is the triumph of talent, the
extension of system, the sharpened understanding.
H KKPiiKHKNTATUK
adaptive sldll, delight in forms, <h*li#ht 111
tioiij In comprohoiwiblo rttlts, l*wiYJe, Athena,
Greece, had been working in thi* (*imitmit with the
joy of genius not yet chill wl by any for*Hi#ht of the
detriment of an exeeA Thy iw bufortj tlwm no
sinister political economy j no tmaiiotM Mfilthsss; no
Paris or London,; no pitikw ttbdh f mti of fhrnm^- >
the doom of the pin ni;ik<T/ 4 tin* <lmmt of tins wcmvera,
of drossors, of sinrlviir-yix of cardftr^ of piiiiii*w, of
colliers ; no Ireland ; no Indian wwtcs Mipt'.riuducod
by the offorte tf Europe to throw if, off, Th umlor-
standing ww in its health aiul primtx Art want in ita
splendid novelty. Tlitjy <wt tin*. Pt*sit4if4tn ttiarbln
as if it wero anow^ and th<r p^rff^ct workn in art'hi-
tocturo and nculpturo wwtruul tliiit|* rrf IMUUW, not
more difficult than th rompl-it'ni of a mw whip at
the Modford yards, or new mill* tit bnvpll Throw
things arc in eowreci, and may IHI taki^it for grant ml
The Boinaii legion, Jlymniinn li^iil&iioii,
trad<s, the alooiw of VortiuiUttt, tlw rtif/*fi of
steam-mill, steam*hoa<> Btuam-ooarfi, may all b
in po.rspe.ci.ivc'; this town mtmting, fcho 1 allot box, thu
nowspajxjr anel dbtmp pivw*
Maantime, Pkto, in K#ypt and In 1111114*111 pilgrim-
ageBj imbibed tho idea if onu l)* s ity, In whirh nil
things tre absorbed, Th unity of Am, ancl the
detail of Eurojm ; the iiilliiitudii of this A#tatio wml,
and the dofinliig, n^wJthmn;^ miM^hiiu^makiu^, itf'
facoHBookittg, tpt*riL- ;;uin;j: Kurt*|*e f Fkto mute to
join, wad by contact^ to ihtnci thu of imch,
The exooUenoe of Europe and ii in hii brain*
IL] PLATO ; OR, THE PHILOSOPHER. 295
Metaphysics and natural philosophy expressed the
genius of Europe ; he subs tracts the religion of Asia,
as the base.
Tn short, a balanced soul was born, perceptive of
the two elements. It is as easy to be great as to be
small The reason why wo do not at once believe in
admirable souls, is because they are not in our experi-
ence. In actual life, they are so rare as to be in-
credible i but, primarily, there is not only no pre-
sumption against thorn, but the strongest presumption
in favour of their appearance. But whether voices
wore heard in the sky, or not ; whether his mother
or Ms father dreamed that the infant man-child was
the son of Apollo ; whether a swarm of bees settled
on his lips, or not ; a man who could see two sides
of a thing was bom. The wonderful synthesis so
familiar in, nature ; the upper arid the under side of
the modal of Jovo ; the union ol impossibilities, which
nwipprars in ovory object ; its real and its ideal power,
was now, also, transferred entire to the conscious-
ness of a man,
The balanced soul coma If he loved abstract
truth, h saved himself by propounding the most
popular of all principles, the absolute good, which
rales rulers, ami judges the judge. If he made
transcendental distinctions, he fortified himself by
drawing all his illustrations from sources disdained
by orators and polite converses ; from mares and
puppies \ from pitchers and soup-ladles ; from cooks
and criers j the shops of potters, horse- doctors,
butchers, and fishmongers. He cannot forgive in
296 KKP11BSKNTAT1VK MKH. [n,
himself a partiality, but is resolved that the two poles
of thought shall appear in his statement, His argu-
ment and his sentence arc solf-poiod and spherical
The two poles appear ; yea, and become two hands,
to grasp and appropriate their own.
Every groat artist has been wioh by synthesis.
Our strength is transitional, alternating ; or, wluill I
say, a thread of two strandn. The soa-nhoro, sea soon
from shore, shore aeon from sea; the taHto of two
motels in contact; and our oulargod powera at the
approach and at the departure of a frumd ; the ex-
perience of poetic nvuf.ivonoss, which IH not found
in staying at home, nor yet m travelling, but in
transitions from one to the other which must there-
fore be adroitly managed to present m much tradi-
tional surface as possible j this command of two ele-
ments must explain the power and the charm of
Plato, Art oxpivssrs the ones or this name by the
different. Thought Books to know unity in unity;
poetry to show it by variety ; that l, always by an
object or symbol, Plato keopa the two vat% otw of
aether and one of pigment, at hia Hide, and invariably
uses both* Thing added to thing**, iw Htatiwtuus civil
hifttory, are invcntorioR. Things twini iw
are inexhaustibly attrar.liva l*laUi turns i
the obverse and tho reverie of the medal uf love,
To take art oxamplo ; Tki phynical ihil<Mu>phni
had sketched oah tun theory <rf t-ho world ; tli theory
of atoms, of fire, of flux, of piiit ; thmiim mechanical
and chomicid in thuir getiiua l*Iaio, it itiwter of
mathematicg, atudiouH of all naturaK lawn and
II.] PLATO ; OR, THE rHILOSOPHEIl 397
feels those, as second causes, to be no theories of the
world, but bare inventories and lists. To the study
of nature ho therefore prefixes the dogma, " Let us
declare the cause which led the Supreme Ordainer to
produce and compose the universe. He was good;
and he who is good has no kind of envy. Exempt
from envy, he wished that all things should be as
much as possible like himself. Whosoever, taught
by wise men, shall admit this as the prime cause of
the origin and foundation of the world, will bo in the
truth" " All things are for the sake of the good, and
it is the cause of everything beautiful" Thia dogma
animates and impersonates his philosophy.
The synthesis which makes the character of his
mind appears in all his talents. Where there is great
compass of wit wo usually find excellences that com-
bine easily in the living man, but in description appear
incompatible.. The mind of Plato is not to be ex-
hibited by a Chinese catalogue, but is to be appre-
hended by atx original mind in the exercise of its
original power, In him the freest abandonment is
united with the precision of a geometer. His daring
imagination gives him the more solid grasp of facts ;
as the birds of highest flight have the strongest alar
bones. His patrician polish, his intrinsic elegance,
edged by an irony so subtle that it stings and par-
alyses, adorn the soundest health and strength of
frame. According to the old sentence, u If Jovo
should doacond to the earth, lie would apeak in the
style of Plato,'*
With this palatial air, there is, for the direct aim
298 KWiiKsfcNT.vnvr, MKN. [ W ,
of several of his works* and running through tho termr
of them all, a certain oarncHtnoiw, which mounts In
tho Republic, and in tho Phtwlo, to pfrty. He has
boon charged with foigning mckiioHH at tho timn of the
death of Socrates But tho anecdotes that have come
down, from tho times attest hi manly intoHoronce
before the pooplo in bin niawti^H hrhnlf, ninco evtsn
tho savage cry of the owiomhly to Plato w preserved
and the indignation towards popular ;r i \i'nmn*ut, m
many of his piocoH, expresses a (wntonul <*X!iKpw*atloiL
Ho haa a probity, a nativo rovonu*tt for jiwtlcta and
hoiuntr, and a hutnainly which make* him tttttdtir for
tho snporstititma of tlw> |*rpl. Add to this, ho
beliovos that poetry, prophecy, ami tho high iiwight t
are from a wisdom of which man i not wtwtwr ; that
tho god never philnj-dphl.!' ; but, by a (wkatiftl
mania, theso niiracl ar< ju'rinupliNlu'il. Homnt on
these winged ateuKla, he wccp thtt dim r^giotiH, visits
worlds which flcwh cannot oiti^r ; !m aw flit)
in pain ; lio h&aro the tkKiiii of I lit*, jiidga ; Im bt^
the ponal niatenipsyclwmis ; tho Fates, with thti
and nhcant; and hottin tho iittoxiiJiitiiig hum of Uiir
spindle.
But hifl ('imiiUHjHHifiuii miver fumiiik Itim, Outs
would say, he had read tho in. *-rl|iiin <m tho of
BiLsyrant*j - " Bt btId ;" wid em tho ttftetttifl giit4s t "Bo
bold, ha bold, and evammra IH IwW/' ttitl thon
had PUUMH! wH at tins thinl gftti*,--" ite not tw b!ci w
His strength wlike tho momoutttm f n f.'!ltn t? pLnrt,;
sad his dism-fioti, the n>Utnt of itn due aiul |H*rfcct
so excellent in his Gftmk bw til bimmLr,
IL] PLATO; OB, Title PHILOSOPHEK. 299
and his skill in definition. In reading logarithms,
one is not more secure, than in following Plato in his
flights. Nothing can be colder than his head, when
the lightnings of his imagination are playing in the
sky. He has finished Ms thinking, before he brings
it to the reader ; and ho abounds in the surprises of
a literary master, He has that opulence which fur-
nishes, at every turn, the precise weapon he needs,
As the rich man wears no more garments, drives no
more horses, Bite in no more chambers, than the poor,
but has that one dress, or equipage*, or instrument,
which is fit for the hour and the need ; so Plato, in
his plenty, is never restricted, but has the fit word.
There ia, indeed, no weapon in all the armoury of wit
which ho did not possess and use, epic, analysis,
mania, intuition, music, satire, and irony, down to
the customary and polite. His illustrations are poetry,
and his jests illustrations. Socrates' profession of
obstetric art is good philosophy ; and his finding that
word " cookery," and " adulatory art," for rhetoric, in
the Gorging, does us a substantial service still No
orator can measure in effect with him who can give
good nicknames.
What moderation, and understatement, and chock-
ing his thunder in mid volley 1 He has good-naturedly
furnished the courtier and citizen with all that can
be said against the schools. " For philosophy is an
elegant thing, If any one modestly meddles with it j
but, if ha is conversant with it more than is becom-
ing, it corrupt* the man," Ho could well afford to be
generous,- he, who* from the sunlike centrality and
300 RKPEKSKNTA!TIVE mm. [ M
roach of his vision, had a faith without cloud. Such
as his perception, was Ms speech ; he plays with the
doubt, and makes the most of it; lie paints and
quibbles; and by-and-by comes a sentence that moves
the sea and land. The admirable earnest comen not
only at intervals, in the perfect yos and no of the
dialogue, but in bursts of light. " 1, therefore,
Calliclos, am persuaded by these zwcountfl, and con-
sider how I may exhibit my soul before the judge in
a healthy condition. Wherefore, disregard in*; the
honoxirs that most men value, and looking to tho
truth, 1 Khali endeavour in reality to livo a virtuously
as I can ; and, when I die, to die so. And I invite
all other men, to the utmost of my power ; and you,
too, I in turn invite to this contort, which, 1 aftirm,
surpasses all content*? here."
Ho is a great average man ; ono who, to tho best
thinking, adds a proportion and equality in hi facul-
ties, so that men see in him their own clwatn* and
glimpses made availably and xntulo to JMUW for what
they ara A great common gonna fa hi warrant an<i
qualification to bo tho world's mtorprotor. Ho hw
reason, as all tho philosophic and poetic class have ;
but he ha% also, what they havo not^thta strong
solving sense to reconcile his poetry with tho appear-
ances of tho world, and build a bridge from
of cities to the Atlantis, Ho ontite novor tins
tion, but slopes his thought^ however jw*timwtjW5 thti
precipice on one aide, to an from the pUin,
He never writes in ecstasy, or catchen ui up into
poetic rapturw-
II.] PLATO; OB, fHB PHILOSOPHER. 301
Plato apprehended the cardinal facts, He could
prostrate himself on the earth, and cover his eyes,
whilst he adored that which cannot bo numbered, or
gauged, or known, or named : that of which every-
thing can be affirmed and denied; that "which is
entity and nonentity," He called it super-essential.
He even stood ready, as in the Parmenitlos, to demon-
strate that it was so, that this being exceeded the
limits of intellect, No man over more fully acknow-
ledged the Ineffable. Having paid his homage, as
for the human race, to the Illimitable, ho then stood
erect, and for the human race affirmed, " And yet
things are Imowable ! "that is, the Asia in his mind
was first heartily honoured,- the ocean, of love and
power, before form, before will, before knowledge, the
Same, the Good, the One; and now, refreshed and
wupowc'ivd by this worship, tho instinct of Europe,
namely, culture, returns ; and ho cries, Yet things are
knowable ! They are knowable, because, being from
one, things correspond. There is a scale; and the
correspondence of heaven to earth, of matter to mind,
of tho part to tho wholu, is our guide. As there is a
acionco of HtatB, called astronomy ; a science of quan-
tities, called mathematics; a science of qualities, called
chemistry j so there is a science of sciences, -I call it
Dialectic, --which is tho Intellect discriminating the
false and tho true. It rostn on the observation of
identity and diversity; for, to judge, is to unite to an
object tho notion which belongs to it, The sciences,
oven tho bos V-- mathematics and astronomy, -are
liko Hportexuon, W!M> stei%e whatever pray otters, oven
302 REPKKSENTATIVE MEN* [u,
without being able to make any use of it. Dialectic
must teach the use of them, " This is of that rank
that BO intellectual man will enter on any study for
its own sake, but only with a view to advance himself
in that ono solo science which cmbracoa all"
" The essence or peculiarity of man in to compre-
hend a whole ; or that which, hi the diversity of
sensations, can ho comprised under a rational unity."
" The soul which has never perceived the truth, can-
not pass into the human form," I announce to men
the Intellect 1 announce the good of being inter-
penetrated by the mind that modo nature ; this bone-
fify namely, that it can understand nature, which it
made and makctk Nature is good, but intellect, is
better; as the law- giver is before tho law-rocoiver. I
give you joy, sons of men ! that truth is altogether
wholesome; that we have hope to search out what
might be the very aelf of wvry tiling. The mlaory of
man is to bo baulked of tho night of (uwonoo, and to
be stuffed with conjectures : but the supreme good is
reality ; the supremo beauty w mility ; and all virtue
and all felicity depend on thin Hcienca of the real ; for
courage is nothing eke than knowledge ; tho fairest
fortune that can befall man in to bo guided by hm
daonon to that winch is truly hw own Thi also is
the essence of justice, to attend every one hin own :
nay, tho notion of virtue is not to bo arrived at,
except through direct contemplation of the divine
essence. Courage, then! for, "the ponnuistou that we
must search that which wo do not know will render
us, beyond comparison, better* braver, and mow in-
II.] PLATO ; OB, THE PHILOSOPHER. 303
dustrious, than if wo thought it impossible to discover
what we do not know, and useless to search for it,"
He secures a position not to be commanded, by his
passion for reality j valuing philosophy only as it is
the pleasure of 0.011 versing with real being.
Thus, full of the genius of Europe, ho said, Culture.
He saw the institutions of Sparta, and recognised
more genially, one would say, than any since, the
hope of education. He delighted in every accomplish-
ment, in every graceful and useful and truthful per-
formance ; above all, in the splendours of genius and
intellectual achievement, "The whole of life,
Socrates, said Glauco, in, with the wise, the measure
of hearing such discourses as these," What a priee
ho seta on the feats of talent, on the powers of Pericles,
of Isocrates, of Parmcnidos ! What price, above
price, on the talents themselves 1 He called the
several faculties, gods, in liis beautiful personation.
What value he gives to the art of gymnastic in educa-
tion ; what to geometry ; what to music \ what to
astronomy > whose appeasing and medicinal power he
celebrates ! In the Tim&us he indicates the highest
employment- of the eyes, "By us it is assorted that
God invented and bestowed sight on us for this pur-
ptwft, 'that on surv\yiu# the circles of intelligence in
the heavens, wo might properly employ those of our
own mind*, which, though disturbed when compared
with the others that are uniform, are still allied to
thoir circulations ; and that, having thus learned, and
Win^ n:i rurally pOfUKORfletl of a ronvoi rrtiisoning faculty,
we might, by imitating the uniform revolutions of
S04 RRl'KESBNTATIVK MRtf. [it,
divinity, set right our own wanderings and blunders,"
And in the Republic," By each of those disciplines,
a certain organ of the soul is both purified and re-
animated, which is blinded and buried by studies of
another kind ; an organ bettor worth Having than ten
thousand oyos, since truth is perceived by this alone,"
He said. Culture ; but ho first admitted its basis,
and gave immeasurably the first place to advantages
of nature. His patrician tawta laid stress on the
distinctions of birth. In the doctrine of the organic
character and disposition IB the origin of caste,
"Such as were fit to govern, ink) their r.imposition
the informing Deity mingled gold ; into the military,
silver; iron and brass for huHbamlmon and nrfcificora."
The East confirms itself, in all agc, in this faith.
The Koran in explicit on thin point of cast**, * ; Men
have their metal, as of gold and silver, Thowo of you
who were the worthy ones in this ntafa of ignorance,
will be the- worthy OUCH in the state of faith, tut oon n
you embrace ii n Plato was not lcs firm, "Of the
five orders of things, only four can ho tttught to the
generality of men." In tho Republic^ hu inHwt tm
the temperaments of tho youth, m fiwt of the fiwt
A happier example of th Ktresn laid on nature w
in tho dialogue with the young Theuge, who wisltea to
receive lessons from Socrates, ftoerattw diif]nri' that,
if some have grown wise by wxuinatin;^ with him, no
tlianka are due to him j but, simply, whilst they wore
with him they grow wise', not kmusa of him ; h pre-
tends not to know thu way f it, "It ti tttlvuwtt to
many, nor can thone bti IwntifitetA by u.sHt>ointin^ with
n,] PLATO ; OR, THE PHILOSOPHISE. \3f05 '
V\
mo, whom the Daemon opposes ; so that it is not pbsi^
siblo for me to live with those. With many, however,
he docs not prevent mo from con versing, who yet are
not at all benefited by associating with mo. Such,
Theagos, is the association with mo ; for, if it pleases
the God, you will make great and rapid proficiency ;
you will not, if he does not ploaso. Judge whether
it in not wafer to bo instructed by some one of those
who have power over the benefit which they impart
to men, than by mo, who benefit or not, just as it may
happen," AH if ho had said, " I have no system, I
cannot be answerable for you, You will be what
you must. I! there is love between us, inconceivably
delicious and profitable will our intercourse be; if
not, your time m lost, and you will only annoy me.
I shall wumi to you stupid, and tho reputation I have,
false. Quito above TIB, beyond the will of you or me,
is tliis secret afthiity or repulsion laid. All my good
is magnetic, and I educate, not by IOSBOHS, but by
going about my bumtiosa,"
He said, Culture ; ho said, Nature : and he failed
not to add, "Them is also the divine," There is no
thought in any mind, but it quickly tends to convert
itself into a j>owor,and in^juiisos ;i Inv^u instrumentality
of iwtttw, Plato, lover of limit*, loved tho illimitable,
Haw tho <'ul;ir"vuH'uf. and nobility which come from
truth itwlf, and good itwolf, and attempted, as if on
the part of the human intellect, once for all, to do it
adequate houwjT, honing fit for the immense soul
to r**ci4v<s ami yt,t homage becoming tho intellect to
raider, Ho wul,*th*'tt, 'Our faculties run out into
VOL IV, 1
306 BEFRESMTATIYE Mm (n.
infinity, and return to us thence. Wo can define but
a little way ; bufc here is a fact which will not be
skipped, and which to slrat our eyes upon IB suicide.
All tilings are in a scale ; and, begin wlusro wo will,
ascend and ascend. All thingn are symbolical ; and
what wo call results aro b< i #iwiin#K."
A key to the method and completeness of Plato is
his twice bisected line. After he has illuatratocl the
relation between the absolute good and true, and the
forms of the Intelligible- world, ho 8ay :" Lot thoro
be a lino cut in two unequal parts. Out again each
of those two parts, one ropraatmting tho visible, the
other the intelligible world, -and thoao two new sec-
tions, representing tho bright part and tho dark part
of these worlds, you will have, for nno of tho aoationa
of tho visible world,-- imam's, that i% both shadows
and reflections ; for the other section, the objects of
these images,- that is, plant*, animal*, and the* works
of art and nature. Then divide tho intelligible world
in like manner ; the on section will Iws of opinions
and hyputhuww, and the other Roction, of tnitii."
To these four sections, the four oporatimm of the aoul
dornwpond, -conjocturo, faith, iitidcirataiitllng, rcanon.
As every pool reflects tho imago of tlia UH> m iwery
thought atid thing rtsKtoro ua an imngr* and
of the suprante Good, Tho uiuvorttft in {K
by a million channels for hin activity. All thiiigi
mount and mount
All his thought has thin Hfu*nMicn ; In Ilwdrus,
teaching that <(f boauty is tho wont Icivcily of all
eacciting hilarity, and Hhwltliiig desire ait<i
II.] PLATO ; OR, THE PHILOBOPHBR. 307
through the universe, wherever It enters; and it
enters, in some degree, into all things : but that there
is another, which is as much more beautiful than
beauty, as beauty is than chaos; namely, wisdom,
which our wonderful organ of eight cannot reach unto,
but which, could it be soon, would ravish us with its
perfect reality." Ho has the same regard to it as the
source of excellence in works of art, "When an
artificer, in the fabrication of any work, looks to that
which alwayn subsists according to the same; and,
employing ft model of this kind, expresses its idea
and power in his work j it must follow, that his pro-
duction should bo beautiful. But when he beholds
that which is born and dies, it will be far from beau-
tiful"
Thus ever : the Banquet ia a teaching in the same
spirit, familiar now to all the poetry, and to all the
sermona of the world, that the love of the sexes is
initial; and symbolics, at a distance, the passion of
the soul for that itnmonfto lake of beauty it exists to
geek Thi faith in tho Divinity is never out of mind,
and constitutes the limitation of all his dogmas.
Body cannot teach wisdom; God only. In the
namo mind, ho constantly affirms that virtue cannot
bo taught j that it is not a science, but an inspiration ;
that tho greatest goods are produced to us through
mamX & n< l w asaignod to us by a divine gift.
Thw hwwfa mo to that central figure, which he had
esatabliHluwt in hit) Acodomy, as the organ through
which tivory eofwidartnl opinion shall bo announced,
and wliouo biogntphy ho IIM^ likewise ao laboured,
308 KEPKESENTATIVE MEN. [ti.
that the historic facts are lost in the light of Plato's
mind. Socrates and Plato are the double star, which
the most powerful instruments will not entirely
separate. Socrates, again, in his traits and genius,
is the best example of that synthesis which constitutes
Plato's extraordinary power. Socrates, a man of
humble stem, but honest enough ; of the commonest
history; of a personal homeliness so remarkable, as
to be a cause of wit in others, the rather that his
broad good nature and exquisite taste for a joke in-
vited the sally, which was sure to be paid. The
players personated him on the stage; the potters
copied his ugly face on their stone jugs. He was a
cool fellow, adding to his humour a perfect temper,
and a knowledge of his man, be he who he might
whom he talked with, which laid the companion open
to certain defeat in any debate, and in debate he
immoderately delighted. The young men are pro-
digiously fond of him, and invite him to their feasts,
whither he goes for conversation. He can drink,
too ; has the strongest head in Athens ; and, after
leaving the whole party under the table, goes away,
as if nothing had happened, to begin new dialogues
with somebody that is sober. In short, he was what
our country-people call an old one.
He affected a good many citizen-like tastes, was
monstrously fond of Athens, hated trees, never will-
ingly went beyond the walls, knew the old characters
valued the bores and philistines, thought everything
in Athens a little better than anything in tiny other
place. He was plain cys a Quaker in habit and speech,
U.] PLATO J OR, THE PHILOSOPHER. 309
affected low phrases, and illustrations from cocks and
quails, soup -pans and Kyoamoro- spoons, grooms and
farriors, and unnamoable offices,- especially if he
talked with any superfine person. He had a Franklin-
like wisdom. Thus, ho showed one who was afraid to
go on foot to Olympia, that it was no more than
his daily walk within doors, if continuously extended,
would easily reach,
Plain old undo as ho was, with his great ears,
an immense talker, the rumour ran, that, on one or
two occasions, in the war with "Boeotia, he had shown
a determination which had covered the retreat of a
troop ; and there was some story that, under cover of
folly, ho had, in the city government, when one day
ho chanced to hold a seat there, evinced a courage in
opposing singly tho popular voice, which had well-
nigh ruined him. Ho is very poor ; but then he is
hardy as a soldier, and can live on a few olives;
usually, in tho strictest sense, on bread and water,
except when entertained by his friends. His neces-
sary expenses wore exceedingly small, and no one
could live OH ho did. Ho wore no under garment ;
his upper garment was the same for summer and
winter ; and ho went barefooted ; and it is said that,
to procure tho pleasure, which ho loves, of talking at
hiB ease all day with tho most elegant and cultivated
young men, ho will now and then return to his shop,
and carve statues, good or bad, for sale. However
that lw t it i certain that ho had grown to delight in
nothing olae than thin conversation ; and that, under
his hypocritical fJrotOEco of Jmowlng nothing, h
310 BBa?EBSBNTATIVB MEN, [a
attacks and brings down all the lino speakers, all the
fine philosophers of Athens, whether nutiven, or
strangers from Aaia Minor and the islands. Nobody
can refuse to talk with him, ho la so honest, and
really curious to know; a man who was willingly
confuted, if ho did not npeak the truth, and who will-
ingly confuted others aBwerlmg what was false ; and
not loss pleased when confuted than when confuting;
for he thought not any evil happmuul to mem, of such
a magnitude as fake opinion respecting tho just and
unjust. A pitiless disputant, who knows nothing,
but the boundn of whose conquering intelligence no
man had ever reached ; whone tcmpor was imper-
turbable ; whose dreadful logic was always lowuraly
and sportive ; so caroler and ignorant, an to dinarm
the wariest, and draw thorn, in tlus plflanantont manner,
into horrible doubts and confiwion. But ho alwayti
knew the way out; knew it, yet would not t^ll it,
No escape ; he driv<i thoui to terrible choictw by his
dilemmas, and toHHes tho Ilippiuso.s and (u^iuMf,-:,
with their grand reputations, us a boy tu&ww hin balk.
The tyrannous realist I--- Mono hit <lirouml a
thousand timoB, at lon^U^ on virtius Ix^foro many
companioHi and vory woll, an it apptmrml to him ; but
at this moment, ho c&nnot even tt?ll what it i,'~t!iis
crump fi:*h of a Socratea lum HO Iwiwikhetl hinu
This hard-hoadwl humourwt, whofw) atranga con-
coite, drollery, and fy&nh0mmlf, diverted the? young
patrician**, whilfc the ntmour of hi wiyingw and
quibblea gat ^abroad ovary tlay, tunw* out, in th<
sequel, to have a probity m invincitla us hi* logic, and
II,] PLATO ; OK, THE PHILOSOPHISE. 311
to be either Insane, or at least, under cover of this
play, enthusiastic iri his religion. When accused be-
fore the judges of subverting the popular creed, he
affirms the immortality of the soul, the future reward
and punishment ; and refusing to recant, in a caprice
of the popular government was condemned to die, and
sent to the prison, Socrates entered the prison, and
took away all ignominy from the place, which could
not be a prison whilst he was there. Orito bribed
the jailer ; but Socrates would not go out by treach-
ery. " Whatever inconvenience ensue, nothing is to
be preferred before justice. These things I hear like
pipes and drams, whose sound makes me deaf to
everything you say*" The fame of this prison, the
fame of the discourses there, and the drinking of the
hemlock, are one of the most precious passages in the
history of the world.
The rare coincidence in one ugly body, of the clroll
and the martyr, the keen street and market debater
with the sweetest saint known to any history at
that time, had forcibly struck the mind of Plato, so
capacious of those contrasts; and the figure of Socrates,
by a noconaity, pkcml itself in the foreground of the
scono, OR the fittest dispenser of the intellectual trea-
sures ho had to communicate. It was a rare fortune,
that this ./Ksop of the mob, and this robed scholar,
should meet, to make each other immortal in their
mutual faculty, The atrange synthesis, in the char-
acter of Socrates, capped the synthesis in the mind of
Plato* MoriMwr, Jy this moans, he mis ablo, in the
direct way, and without envy, to avail himself of the
312 KKPKKSKNTATIVU MEN, [a
wit and weight of Socrates, to which unquestionably
his own debt was great ; and thto derived again their
principal advantage, from tho perfect art of Plato.
It remains to say, that the dcfwfc of Plato in power
is only that which nulte inovitably from hit* quality.
Ho is intellectual in his aim ; and therefore, in op-
pression, literary. Mounting into heaven, diving into
the pit, expounding the* IHWH of tho tato\ tho passion
of love, the roruorno of crime, the hopo of tho parting
soul, he i literary, and novor otherwise It is almost
tho solo deduction from tho merit of Pkto, that hk
writings have notywhut JH, no doubt, inoidont to this
regna-ncy of intellect in bin work, the vital authority
which tho scroanw of prophets and tho Bormonn of
unlettered Arabs "and JOWH ptWHcm Thcro IM an hi-
torval ; and to cohesion, contact ift notH'.*rtsiry,
I know not what can be auid in n^ply to thw criti*
eisnij but that we havo come to a fact itt tho nature
of things ; an oak is not an orange, Th <|tialitit
of sugar remain with sugar, and thoao of Halt with
Halt
In the Bocond places h<s has not a Hysfc^ttL This
dearest defenders and tliwjipltm aru at fault, !I at-
tempted a theory of tho univorno, and hi theory i
not eomploto or elf-ts?idonk Ono nmi thinks Iw
moaiw thin ; and anot-h^r, that. : h<* hw* Haiti om tiling
in ono plactv and tho rovwnifl cif it in anofchar plt<!f\
Ho iw charged with having failed fco make tlw- transl-
tion from idoan to ntattor. Horn w th world, nouud
M a nut, perf^ot, not tho ittiatlft^plfw of dmm lt*fl
a stitch nor mi <*nd wot it mark of luwte, or
n.] PLATO; OB, THE PHILOSOPHIE. 313
botching, or second thought; but the theory of the
world is a thing of shreds and patches.
The longest wave is quickly lost in the sea. Plato
would willingly have a Platonism, a known and accu-
rate expression of the world, and it should be accurate.
It shall be the world passed through the mind of Plato,
nothing loss. Every atom shall have tho Platonic
tinge ; every atom, every relation or quality you knew
before, you shall know again, and find here, but now
ordered ; not nature, but art* And you shall feel
that Alexander indeed overran, with men and horses,
some countries of the planet ; but countries, and things
of which countries are made, elements, planet itself,
laws of planet and of men, have passed through this
man as bread into his body, and become no longer
broad, but. body : so all this mammoth morsel has
become Plato. Ho has clapped copyright on the world.
This is tho ambition of individualism. But the
mouthful proves too large. Boa constrictor has good
will to eat it, but he is foiled. He falls abroad in the
attempt ; and biting, gets strangled : the bitten world
holds the biter fast by his own teeth. There he
perishes ; uncoiiquorod nature lives on, and forgets
hint So it fares with all ; so must it faro with Plato.
In view of eternal nature, Plato turns out to be philo-
sophical oxorcitationa. Ho argues on this side, and
on that Tho acuteat Gorman, the lovingeat disciple,
could novor toll what Platomsm was ; indeed, admir-
able texts can be quoted OB both sides of every great
question from him,
Thcso things wt are forced to say, if we must COB-
3H EEPKESBNXiTITE OTE [u,
aider the effort of Plato, or of any philosopher, to
dispose of Nature, which will not bo disposed ot
No power of genius has over yet had tho smallest
success in explaining existence, Tho perfect enigma
remains. But there is an injuHtico in assuming thi
ambition for Plato. Lot UH not worn to treat with
flippancy his venerable name* Mon, in proportion
to their intellect, have admitted his tmnacwidaat
claims, The way to know him, is to comparo him,
not with nature, but with other iwm, How many
ages have gone by, and ho remains unappwushedl
A chief structure of human wit, like Kanuw, or
the medieval catluxlrala, or the Etrurian remains,
it requires all the breadth of human faculty to
know it, 1 think it is truolieat aoon, when mm with
the most rcapeet HP none deepen^ hi mcrita
multiply, with afcudy, When wo wty, hero i a fine
collection of fabloa ; or, whan we praio tlw style ; or
the common sense ; or aritimiotic ; w Hptntk iw boy*,
and much of our impatient (iriticwrn of tho dmlcxrtlc,
1 suspect, is no hotter. Tho c/riticwm is like our im-
patience of miloH, whan we aw in a hurry ; but it in
still heat that a milu nhould hm mmnlmn luuulral
and sixty yards, Tho grwUyw! l*lalo
the lights and ghadog after the goniuit of our lifa
PLATO: NEW 11BADOG&
THE publication, in Mr, Bohn's " Serial Library," of
the excellent traiiBlatioiiH of Plato, which we esteem one
of the chief benefits the cheap pross has yielded, gives
us an occasion to take hastily a fow more notes of the
elevation and bearings of thi fixed star ; or, to add a
bulletin, like the journals, of PMo at the kM cto.
Modern science, by the extent of its generalisation,
liaa learned to indemnify the student of man for the
defects of individuals, by tracing growth and ascent
in races ; and, by the simple expedient of lighting up
the vnt biH'hp-ouiHl, ({cnenitea a fooling of complacency
and hope. The human being hw the saurian and
the plant in hw rear. His arts and science^ the easy
IHHIW of hi brain, look glorious when protectively
behold from the dwtfint brain of ox, crocodile, and fish.
It HeomH an if nature, in regarding the geologic night
behind hw, whan, in five or six millenniums, ahe had
turnwl out five or nix men, w llowu^r, Pliidiaa, Menu,
and ColumbuH, waa no mm diacontentod with tho
rwHuit, Thw*o aamploB attwted the virtuo of tho tree.
Thmci mw $ clear amelioration of trilobite and
and a gotd baais for furthor proceeding,
316 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [n.
With this artist, time and space are cheap, and she is
insensible to what you say of tedious preparation.
She waited tranquilly the flowing periods of palaeon-
tology, for the hour to be struck when man should
arrive. Then periods must pass before the motion of
the earth can be suspected ; then before the map of
the instincts and the cultivable powers can be drawn.
But as of races, so the succession of individual men is
fatal and beautiful, and Plato has the fortune, in the
history of mankind, to mark an epoch,
Plato's fame does not stand on a syllogism, or on
any masterpieces of the Socratic reasoning, or on any
thesis, as, for example, the immortality of tho sotil,
He is more than an expert, or a schoolman, or a
geometer, or the prophet of a peculiar message, Ho
represents the privilege of tho intellect, tho power,
namely, of carrying up every fact to successive plat-
forms, and so disclosing, in ovory fact, a germ of
expansion. These expansions arc in tho essence of
thought. Tho naturalist would novor help us to thorn
by any discoveries of the extent of tho universe, but
is as poor when cataloguing tho resolved nebula of
Orion, as when measuring the angles of an acre. But
the Republic of Plato, by these cxpanmonH, may be
said to require, and so to anticipate, tho astronomy of
Laplace. The expansions aro organic. The mind
does not create what it perceives, any more than the
eye creates the rose. In ascribing to Plato tho merit
of announcing thorn, wo only say, hero was a more
complete man, who could apply to nature the whole
scale of the senses, the understanding, and the reason.
IT.] PLATO : NEW READINGS. 317
Those expansions, or extensions, consist in continuing
the spiritual sight whore tho horizon falls on our
natural vision, and, by this second sight, discovering
tho long linos of law which shoot in every direction.
Everywhere ho stands on a path which has no end,
but runs continuously round tho universe. Therefore,
every word becomes an exponent of Nature. What-
ever he looks upon discloses a second sense, and
ulterior SOIXHOB. * ilin perception of the generation of
contraries, of death out of life, arid life out of death,
that law by which, in nature, decomposition is recom-
position, and putrefaction and cholera are only signals
of a new creation; his discernment of the little in
the large, and tho large in the small ; studying the
state in tho oitisson, and the citizen in the state ;
and leaving it doubtful whether he exhibited tho
Republic as an allegory on tho education of the private
soul; lib beautiful definitions of ideas, of time, of
form, of figure, of tho line, sometimes hypothetical^
given, as his defining of virtue, courage, justice,
l^mniTiimw ; his love of tho apologue, and his apo*
lognoH theniHolves ; the cavo of Trophonius \ the ring
of Oygos ; tho charioteer ami two horses ; the golden,
silver, braHH, and iron ti'injxiriummts; Thouth and
ThatmiH ; and, tho visions of Hades and tho Fates,
fables which have imprinted themselves in the human
memory like the Hignn of the zodiac ; his soliform eye
and his boniform aoul ; his doctrine of assimilation j
his doctrine of rommi&conoe ; his clear vision of the
laws of return, or reaction, which secure instant
justice throughout* tho universe, ixwbiwced every-
318 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [ n ,
where, out specially in the doctrine, " what comes from
God to us, returns from us to G-od," and in Socrates'
belief that the laws below are sisters of the laws above.
More striking examples are his moral conclusions.
Plato affirms the coincidence of science and virtue j
for vice can never know itself and virtue ; but virtue
knows both itself and vice. The eye attested that
justice was best, as long as it was profitable ; Plato
affirms that it is profitable throughout ; that the pro-
fit is intrinsic, though the just conceal his justice from
gods and men; that it is better to suffer injustice
than to do it that the sinner ought to covet punish-
ment that the lie was more hurtful than homicide ;
and that ignorance, or the involuntary lie, was more
calamitous than involuntary homicide ; that the soul
is unwillingly deprived of true opinions ; and that no
man sins willingly ; that the order or proceeding of
nature was from the mind to tho body ; and, though
a sound body cannot restore an unsound mind, yet a
good soul can, by its virtue, render tho body the best
possible. The intelligent have a right over the
ignorant, namely, the right of instructing thorn. The
. right punishment of one out of tune, is to make him
play in tune ; the fine which the good, refusing to
govern, ought to pay, is to be governed by a worse
man; that his guards shall not handle gold and
silver, but shall be instructed that there is gold and
silver in their souls, which will moke men willing to
give them everything which they need,
This second sight explains the strops laid on
geometry. Be saw that the crlolw of earth was not
n.] PLATO: NEW HEADINGS. 319
more lawful and precise than was the supersensible ;
that a celestial geometry was in place there, as a
logic of lines and angles here below ; that the world
was throughout mathematical; the proportions are
constant of oxygen, azote, and lime ; there is just so
much water, and slate, and magnesia; not less are
the proportions constant of the moral elements.
This eldest Goethe, hating varnish and falsehood,
delighted in xwealing the real at the base of the
accidental ; in discovering connection, continuity, and
representation, everywhere; hating insulation; and
appears like the god of wealth among the cabins of
vagabonds, opening power and capability in every-
thing ho touches. Ethical science was new and vacant,
when Plato could write thus : " Of all whose argu-
ments are loft to the men of the present time, no one
has ever yet condemned injustice, or praised justice,
otherwise than as respects the repute, honours, and
emoluments arising therefrom; while, as respects
either of thorn in itself, and subsisting by its own
power in the soul of the possessor, and concealed both
from gods and men, no one has yet sufficiently in-
vestigated, cither in poetry or prose writings, how,
namely, that tho ono is the greatest of all the evils that
the soul haB within it, and justice the greatest good."
Hia definition of ideas, as what is simple, perma-
nent, uniform, and self -existent, for ever discriminating
thorn from tho notions of the understanding, marks
an era in tho world. He was born to behold the
solf-ovolvittg power of spirit, endless generator of new
ends : a power wliich is tho key at oce to the cen-
320 EBPEESBNTATIVE MEN. [n.
trality and the evanescence of things. Plato is so
centred, that he can well spare all his dogmas. Thus
the fact of knowledge and ideas reveals to him the fact
of eternity ; and the doctrine of reminiscence he offers
as the most probable particular explication. Call
that fanciful, it matters not : the connection between
our knowledge and the abyss of being is still real, and
the explication must be not less magnificent.
He has indicated every eminent point in specula-
tion. He wrote on the scale of the mind itself, so
that all things have symmetry in his tablet. He put
in all the past, without weariness, and descended into
detail with a courage like that ho witnessed in nature,
One would say that his forerunners had mapped out
each a farm, or a district, or an island, in in'tollectual
geography, but that Plato first drew the sphere. He
domesticates the soul in nature : man is the micro-
cosm. All the circles of the visible heaven represent
as many circles in the rational soul There is no
lawless particle, and there is nothing casual in the
action of the human mind. The names of things,
too, are fatal, following the nature of things. All the
gods of the Pantheon are, by their names, significant
of a profound sense. The godn arc the ideas. Pan
is speech, or manifestation; Saturn, the contempla-
tive ; Jove, the regal soul ; and Mars, paHmon. Venus
is proportion ; Calliope, the soul of the world j Aglaia,
intellectual illustration.
These thoughts, in sparkles of light, had appeared
often to piox^ and to poetic soyiils; but this well-
n.] PIATO : NEW HEADINGS. 321
bred, all-knowing Greek geometer comes with com-
mand, gathers them all up into rank and gradation,
the Euclid of holiness, and marries the two parts of
nature. Before all men, he saw the intellectual values
of the moral sentiment. He describes his own ideal,
when he paints in Timaeus a god leading things from
disorder into order. He kindled a fire so truly in
the centre, that we see the sphere illuminated, and
can distinguish poles, equator, and lines of latitude,
every arc and node : a theory so averaged, so modu-
lated, that you would say the winds of ages had swept
through this rhythmic structure, and not that it was
the brief extempore blotting of one short-lived scribe.
Hence it has happened that a very well-marked class
of souls, namely, those who delight in giving a spiritual,
that is, an ethico-intellectual expression to every truth,
by exhibiting an ulterior end which is yet legitimate
to it, are said to Platonise. Thus, Michel Angelo is
a Platonist, in his sonnets, Shakspeare is a Platonist,
when he writes " Nature is made bettor by nq mean,
but nature makes that mean," or,
"He, that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord,
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
And earns a place in the story. "
Hamlot is a pure Platonist, and 'tis the magnitude
only of Shakspoare's proper genius that hinders him
from, being classed as the most eminent of this school.
Swodonborg, throughout his prose poem of " Conjugal
Love," is a Platonist.
His subtlety cdtomomled him to men of thought.
VOL, iv. Y
322 REPRESENTATIVE ME3ST, [u
The secret of his popular success is the moral aim, which
endeared him to mankind. "Intellect," he said, "is
king of heaven and of earth ; " but, in Plato, intellect
is always moral. His writings have also the sempi-
ternal youth of poetry. For their arguments, most
of them, might have been couched in sonnets : and
poetry has never soared higher than in the Timseus
and the Phsedrus. As the poet, too, he is only con-
templative. He did not, like Pythagoras, break
himself with an institution. All his painting in the
."Republic must be esteemed mythical, with intent to
bring out, sometimes in violent colours, his thought.
You cannot institute, without peril of charlatanism,
It was a high scheme, his absolute privilege for
the best (which, to make emphatic, he expressed by
community of women), as the premium which he
would set on grandeur. There shall be exempts of two
kinds : first, those who by demerit have put them-
selves below protection, outlaws ; and secondly, those
who by eminence of nature and desert are out of the
reach of your rewards : let such be free of the city,
and above the law. We confide thorn to themselves ;
let them do with us as they will. Let none presume
to measure the irregularities of Michel Angelo and
Socrates by village scales.
In his eighth book of the [Republic, he throws a
little mathematical dust in our eyes. I am sorry to
see him, after such noble superiorities, permitting the
lie to governors. Plato plays Providence a little with
the baser sort, as people allow themselves with their
dogs and cats,
m.
SWBDENBORG-; OR, THE MYSTIC.
AMONG eminent persons, those who are most dear to
men are not of the class which the economist calls
producers ; they have nothing in their hands ; they
have not cultivated corn, nor made bread ; they have
not led out a colony, nor invented a loom. A higher
class, in the estimation and love of this city-building,
market -going race of mankind, are the poets, who,
from the intellectual kingdom, feed the thought and
imagination with ideas and pictures which raise men
out of the world of com and money, and console them
for the shortcomings of the day, and the meannesses
of labour and traffic. Then, also, the philosopher has
his value, who flatters the intellect of this labourer,
by engaging him with subtleties which instruct him
in new faculties. Others may build cities j he is to
understand them, and keep thorn in awe. But there
is a class who lead us into another region, the world
of morals, or of will. What is singular about this
region of thought is its claim, "Wherever the senti-
ment of right 0om%s in, it take| precedence of every-
324 BEWIESBNTATIVB MJffiN. [in.
thing else, For other things, I make poetry of them ]
but the moral sentiment makes poetry of me.
I have sometimes thought that he wotild render the
greatest service to modem criticism, who shall draw
the line of relation that subsists between Shakspoare
and Swedenborg. The human mind stands ever in
perplexity, demanding intellect, demanding sanctity,
impatient equally of each without the other. The
reconciler has not yet appeared. If we tire of the
saints, Shakspeare is our city of refuge. Yet the
instincts presently teach, that the problem of essence
must take precedence of all others, the questions of
Whence 1 What ? and Whither 1 and the solution of
these must be in a life, and not in a book. A drama
or poem is a proximate or oblique reply ; but Moses,
Menu, Jesus, work directly on this problem. The
atmosphere of moral sentiment is a region of grandeur
which reduces all material magnificence to toys, yet
opens to every wretch that has reason the doors of
the universe. Almost with a fierce haste it lays its
empire on the man. In the language of the Koran,
" God said, the heaven and the earth, and ail that is
between them, think ye that we created them in jest
and that ye shall not return to us V 9 It is the king-
dom of the will, and by inspiring the will, which is
the seat of personality, soems to convert the universe
into a person \
1 ' The realms of being to no other "bow,
Not only all are thine, but all aw Thou/'
All men are r commanded by the saint The Koran
makes a distinct class- pf those who are by nature good,
in.] SWEDENBOKG ; OK, THE MYSTIC. 325*"
and whoue goodness has an influence on others, and
pronounces this class to be the aim of creation : the
other classes are admitted to the feast of heing, only
as following in the train of this. And the Persian
poet exclaims to a soul of this kind,
" Go boldly forth, and feast on being's banquet ;
Thou art the called, the rest admitted with thee."
The privilege of this caste is an access to the secrets
and structure of nature, by some higher method than
by experience. In common parlance, what one man
is said to learn by experience, a man of extraordinary
sagacity is said, without experience, to divine. The
Arabians say, that Abul Khain, the mystic, and Abu
Ali Seena, the philosopher, conferred together; and
on parting the philosopher said, " All that he sees, I
know;" and the mystic said, "All that he knows, I
see." If one should ask the reason of this intuition,
the solution would lead us into that property which
Plato denoted as Beminiscence, and which is implied
by the Brahmins in the tenet of Transmigration. The
soul having been often born, or, as the Hindoos say,
" travelling the path of existence through thousands
of births," having beheld the things which are here,
those which are in heaven, and those which are be-
neath, there is nothing of which she has not gained
the knowledge : no wonder that she is able to recollect,
in regard to any one thing, what formerly she knew.
" For, all things in nature being linked and related,
and the soul having heretofore known all, nothing
hinders but that any man who has recalled to mind,
or, according to She common phrase, has learned one
KEPRKSKNTATIVI-, MKN, [UL
thing only, should of hininelf recover all his ancient
knowledge, and find out again all tho rent, if ho have
but courage, and faint not in tho midut of hm re
searches. For inquiry and learning is remhuHconce
all" How much more, if lie that inquires be a holy
and godlike soul ! For, by being atwhwlatod to tho
original soul, by whom, and after whom, all things
subsist, tho soul of man donw than aily flow into all
tilings, and all things flow into it : they mix ; and he
is present and s^mpathd-ic with their structure and
law,
This path in difficult, secret! and heot with terror,
Tho ancients called it mlmj or aK i>n<-<', a getting
out of their bodies to think, All religious history
contains traces ol tho tranoo of ainte^'-a beatitude,
but without any sign of joy, earned solitary, even
sad; "the flight/' Plotinus called it, " of the alone to
the alone ;*' Mt/ecr6v the eloning of the eyes, whence
our word Mystic. Tim trancej of Kocratwi, PlotimiH,
J^orphyry, Bolmum, Bunyun, Fox, Pascal, (lubn
Swedenborg, will remlily com to mind, Btit what
as readily comes to mind is the umnnjwnuwnl of
disoase. This beatitudo comen in terror, and with
shocks to the mind of the nwcivwv ** It- tt'erinfortnH
the tenement of clay/* mid dnw tlm man mud ; or
gives a certain violent him, which taint* hi* judgment*
In the chief oxamplou of raligiouH ilhmiinaticm, nomo'
what morbid hw mitigkd, in Mpite of thti tmnu* k Ht5*ii-
iblo increao of montal fwiwer, Mtt.it thu liig!ut
good drag after it a quulity whicli ntutrtIiM9 and
dificredite ttl
Ui.] SWEDENBORG ; OR, THE MYSTIC.* 327/
" Indeed, it takes
From our achievements, when performed at height,
The pith and marrow of our attribute. "
Shall we say that the economical mother disburses
so much earth and so much fire, by weight and metre,
to make a man, and will not add a pennyweight,
though a nation is perishing for a leader 1 Therefore,
the men of God purchased their science by folly
or pain. If you will have pure carbon, carbuncle,
or diamond, to make the brain transparent, the
trunk and organs shall be so much the grosser:
instead of porcelain they are potter's earth, clay, or
mud.
In modern times, no such remarkable example of
this introverted mind has occurred, as in Emanuel
Swedenborg, born in Stockholm in 1688. This man,
who appeared to his contemporaries a visionary, and
elixir of moonbeams, no doubt led the most real life
of any man then in the world : and now, when the
royal and ducal Frederics, Cristiems, and Brunswicks,
of that day, have slid into oblivion, he begins to
spread himself into the minds of thousands. As
happens in great men, he seemed, by the variety and
amount of his powers, to be a composition of several
persons, like the giant fruits which are matured in
gardens by the union of four or five single blossoms.
His frame is on a larger scale, and possesses the
advantages of size. As it is easier to see the reflec-
tion of the great sphere in large globes, though
defaced by some crack or blemish, tjaan in drops of
water, so men 5 large calil^re, though with some
328 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [m.
eccentricity or madness, like Pascal or Newton, help
us more than balanced mediocre minds.
His youth and training could not fail to he extra-
ordinary. Such a hoy could not whistle or dance, hut
goes grabbing into mines and mountains, prying into
chemistry and optics, physiology, mathematics, and
astronomy, to find images fit for the measure of his
versatile and capacious brain. Ho was a scholar
from a child, and was educated at Upsala, At the
age of twenty-eight he was made Assessor of the
Board of Mines by Charles XII In 171 G ho left
home for four years, and visited the universities of
England, Holland, France, and Germany. He per-
formed a notable feat of engineering in 1718, at the
siege of Fredexicshall, by hauling two galleys, five
boats, and a sloop, some fourteen English miles over-
land, for the royal service. In 1721 he journeyed
over Europe, to examine mines and smelting works.
He published, in 1716, his Daedalus Hyporboreus,
and, from this time, for the next thirty years, was
employed in the composition and publication of his
scientific works. With the like force he threw him-
self into theology. In 1743, when he was fifty-four
years old, what is called his illumination began. All
his metallurgy, and transportation of ships overland,
was absorbed into this ecstasy. He ceased to publish
any more scientific books, withdrew from his practi-
cal labours, and devoted himself to the writing and
publication of his voluminous theological works,
which were printed at his own expense, or at that of
the Duke of Brunswick, or other prince, at Dresden,
iu.] SWEDENBOKG ; OK, THE MYSTIC. 329
Leipsic, London, or Amsterdam. Later he resigned
liis office of Assessor : the salary attached to this
office continued to be paid to him during his life.
His duties had brought him into intimate acquaintance
with King Charles XII, by whom he was much con-
sulted and honoured. The like favour was continued
to him by his successor. At the Diet of 1751, Count
Hopken says, the most solid memorials on finance
were from his "pen. In Sweden he appears to have
attracted a marked regard. His rare science and
practical skill and the added fame of second sight,
and extraordinary religious knowledge and gifts,
drew to him queens, nobles, clergy, shipmasters, and
people about the ports through which he was wont to
pass in his many voyages. The clergy interfered a
little with the importation and publication of hie
religious works ; but he seems to have kept the
friendship of men in power. He was never married.
He had great modesty and gentleness of bearing.
His habits were simple ; he lived on bread, milk, and
vegetables; ho lived in a house situated in a large
garden : he went several times to England, where he
does not seem to have attracted any attention whatever
from the learned or the eminent ; and died at London,
March 29, 1772, of apoplexy, in his eighty-fifth year.
He is described, when in London, as a man of a quiet,
clerical habit, not averse to tea and coffee, and kind to
children. He wore a sword when in full velvet dress,
and whenever he walked out carried a gold-headed
cane. There is a common portrait of him in antique
coat and wig, but tUo face has a wandering or vacant ai r
330 EBPKBSBNTATIVK MEN, [m.
The genius which was to penetrate the science of
the age with a far more subtle science ; to pass the
bounds . of space and time ; ventee into the dim
spirit-realm, and attempt to establish a new religion
in the world, hegan its lessons in quarries and
forges, in the smelting-pot and crucible, in ship-yards
and dissecting-rooms. No one man is perhaps able
to judge of the merits of his works on so many
subjects. One is glad to learn that his books on
mines and metals are held in the highest esteem by
those who understand these matters, It aeema that
he anticipated much science of the nineteenth century;
anticipated, in astronomy, the discovery of the seventh
planet, bub, unhappily, not also of the eighth ; an-
ticipated the views of modern astronomy in regard
to the generation of earths by the sun ; in magnetism,
some important experiments and conclusions of later
students; in chemistry, the atomic theory; in ana-
tomy, the discoveries of Sohliohting, Monro, and
Wilson; and first demonstrated the office of the
lungs. His excellent English editor magnanimously
lays no stress on his discoveries, since he was too
great to care to be original; and we are to judge,
by what he can spare, of what remains.
A colossal soul, he lies vast abroad on his times,
uncomprehended by them, and requires a long focal
distance to be seen; siiggasts, as Aristotle, Bacon,
Selden, Humboldt, that a certain vastnass of learn-
ing, or gmd omnipresence of the human soul in
nature, is possibla His superb speculation, as from u
tower, over nature and arte, withcfat ever lotting sight
IIL] SWKDBNBOBG; OK, THE MYSTIC. 331.
of the texture and sequence of things, almost realises
his own picture, in the "Principia," of the original
integrity of man. Over and above the merit of his
particular discoveries, is the capital merit of his self-
equality. A drop of water has the properties of
the sea, but cannot exhibit a storm. There is beauty
of a concert, as well as of a flute ; strength of a host,
as well as of a hero ; and in Swedenborg, those who
are best acquainted with modem books will most
admire the merit of mass. One of the missouriums
and mastodons of literature, he is not to be measured
by whole colleges of ordinary scholars. His stalwart
presence would flutter the gowns of an university.
Our books are false by being fragmentary: their
sentences are bon mots, and not parts of natural dis-
course; childish expressions of surprise or pleasure
in nature ; or, worse, owing a brief notoriety to their
petulance, or aversion from the order of nature,
being some curiosity or oddity, designedly not in
harmony with nature, and purposely framed to excite
surprise, as jugglers do by concealing their means.
But Swedenborg is systematic, and respective of the
world in every sentence : all the means are orderly
given ; his faculties work with astronomic punctuality,
and this admirable writing is pure from all pertness
or egotism.
Swedenborg was born into an atmosphere of great
ideas, 'Tis hard to say what was his own : yet his
life was dignified by noblest pictures of the universe.
The robust Aristotelian method, with its breadth and
ailequatencss, shaming our sterile an 6 linear logic
332 KKI'UKHKNTATIVK MEK. [ m ,
by its genial radiation, conver.wnt with series and
degree, with effects and ends, skilful to discriminate
power from form, essence from accident, and opening,
by its terminology and definition, high roads into
nature, had trained a race of athletic philosophers,
Harvey had shown the circulation of the blood;
Gilbert had shown that the earth was a magnet:
Descartes, taught by Gilbert's magnet, with its vortex,
spiral, and polarity, had filled "Eurojto with the lead-
ing thought of vortical motion as the secret of nature,
Newton, in the year in which Swwlonborg was
born, published the ** Prinoipiu," and established the
universal gravity. Malpighi, following the high
doctrines of Hippocrates, Loucippus, and Lucretius,
had given emphasis to the dogma that nature works in
leasts,- " tota in minimis exiatit natura/' Unrivalled
dissectors, Swammordam, Leouwenhoek, Winalow,
Eustachius, Heister, Ve&alitis, Boorhaavo, had left
nothing for scalpel or microscopo to reveal in human
or comparative anatomy : Linnasua, Ma contemporary,
was affirming, in his beautiful science, that "Nature
is always like herself:" and, lastly, tho nobility of
method, the largest application of principle, had
been exhibited by Leibnitz and Christian Wolff, in
cosmology ; whilst Ijocke and Grotiua had drawn the
moral argument. What wm loft for a genius of the
largest calibre, but to go over their ground, and
verify and unite 1 It is easy to see, m these tninds,
tho origin of SwwluuLorgfK studioA, and the BUggos-
tion of his probloma He had a capacity to entertain
and vivify ttose volumes of thought Yet the prox-
ni.] SWTCDENBORG; OB, THE MYSTIC. 333
imity of these geniuses, one or other of whom had
Introduced all his leading ideas, makes Swedenborg
another example of the difficulty, even in a. highly
fertile genius, of proving originality, the first birth
and annunciation of one of the laws of nature.
He named his favourite views the doctrine of
Forms, the doctrine of Series and Degrees, the doc-
trine of Influx, the Doctrine of Correspondence, His
statement of th^e doctrines deserves to be studied in
his books. Not every man can read them, but they
will reward him who can. His theologic works are
valuable to illustrate these. His writings would be
a sufficient library to a lonely and athletic student ;
and the " Economy of the Animal Kingdom " is one of
those books which, by the sustained dignity of think-
ing, is an honour to the human race. He had studied
spars and metals to some purpose. His varied and
solid knowledge makes his style lustrous with points
and shooting spicula of thought, and resembling one
of those winter mornings when the air sparkles with
erystala The grandeur of the topics makes the
grandeur of the style. He was apt for cosmology,
because of that native perception of identity which
made mere size of no account to him. In the atom
of magnetic iron ho saw the quality which would
generate the spiral motion of sun and planet.
The thoughts in which he lived were, the universal-
ity of each law in nature ; the Platonic doctrine of the
scale or degrees j the version or conversion of each
into other, and so the correspondence of all the parts ;
the fine secret that little explains laige, and large,
334 REPBESBNTATtVE MKN. (in,
little; the centrality of man in nature, arid the connec-
tion that subsists throughout all things : ho saw that
the human body was strictly universal, or an instru-
ment through which the soul foods and is fed by the
wholo of matter ; so that he held, in exact antagonism
to the sceptics, that " the wiser a man za, the more will
ho bo a worshipper of the Deity." In short, ho was a
believer in the Identity-philonophy, which he held not
idly, as the dreamers of Berlin or Boston, but which
he experimented with and stablished through years
of labour, with the heart and strength of the rudest
Viking that his rough Sweden ever sent to battle.
This theory dates from tho oldest philosophers,
and derives perhaps its beat illustration from the
newest. It ia this ; that nature iterates her means
perpetually on successive planes* hi the old aphorism,
7iatit/re u always wlf-shnilar. In the plant^ the oye or
genmnativ point opens to a leaf, then to another
loaf, with a power of transforming the leaf into radicle,
stamen, pistil, petal, bract, sepal, or seed. Tho wholo
art of the plant is still to repeat leaf on leaf without
end, the more or less of heat, light, moisture, and
food, determining the form it shall aamima In the
animal, nature wakes a vertebra* or a npine of verte-
bras, and helps herself still by a new spine, with a
limited power of modifying itB form, spine on spine,.
to the end of the world. A poetic anatomist, in our
own day, teaches that a imake, being a horizontal line,
and man, being an, erect line, constitute a right an#U* ;
and, between the lines of this mystical quadrant, all
animated beings find their place : wwl he mwumoti the
in.] SWEDBNBOEG ; OK, THE MYSTIC. 335
hair-worm, the span-worm, or the snake, as the type
or prediction of the spine. Manifestly, at the end
of the spine, nature put$ out smaller spines, as arms ;
at the end of the arms, new spines, as hands ; at the
other end she repeats the process, as legs and feet.
At the top of the column she puts out another spine,
which doubles or loops itself over, as a span-worm,
into a ball, and forms the skull, with extremities again :
the hands being* now the upper jaw, the feet the lower
jaw, the fingers and toes being represented this time
by upper and lower teeth. This new spine is destined
to high uses. It is a new man on the shoulders of
the last It can almost shed its trunk, and manage
to live alone, according to the Platonic idea in the
Tirnseus. Within it, on a higher plane, all that was
done in the trunk repeats itself. Nature recites her
lesson once more in a higher mood. The mind is a
finer body, and resumes its functions of feeding,
digesting, absorbing, excluding, and generating, in a
new and ethereal element. Here, in the brain, is all
the process of alimentation repeated, in the acquiring,
comparing, digesting, and assimilating of experience.
Here again is the mystery of generation repeated. In
tho brain are male and female faculties : here is
marriage, here is fruit. And there is no limit to this
ascending scale, but series on series. Everything,
at the end of one use, is taken up into the next, each
series punctually repeating every organ and process
of the last Wo are adapted to infinity. We are hard
to please, and love nothing which ends : and in nature
ia no end ; but everything, at the end*of one use, is
336 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [in
lifted into a superior, and the ascent of these things
climbs into daemonic and celestial natures. Creative
force, like a musical composer, goes on unweariedly
repeating a simple air or theme, now high, now low,
in solo, in chorus, ten thousand times reverberated,
till it fills earth and heaven with the chant.
Gravitation, as explained by Newton, is good, but
grander when we find chemistry only an extension of
the law of masses into particles, and ^hat the atomic
theory shows the action of chemistry to be mechanical
also. Metaphysics shows us a sort of gravitation,
operative also in the mental phenomena; and the
terrible tabulation of the French statists brings every
piece of whim and humour to b reducible also to exact
numerical ratios. If one man in twenty thousand, or
in thirty thousand, eats shoes, or marries his grand*
mother, then, in every twenty thousand, or thirty
thousand, is found one man who oats shoes, or marries
his grandmother. What we call gravitation, and fancy
ultimate, is one fork of a mightier stream, for which
we have yet no name. Astronomy is excellent; but
it must come up into life to have its full value, and
not remain there in globes and spacea. The globule
of blood gyrates around its own axis in the human
veins, as the planet in the sky ; and the circles of
intellect relate to those of the heavens. Each law of
nature has the like universality; eating, sleep or
hybernation, rotation, generation, metamorphosis,
vortical motion, which is seen, in eggs as in planets.
These grand rhymes or returns in nature, -the dear,
best-known fee startlinrt us at wery txirn, under a
ni.] SWEDENBOEG; OR, THE MYSTIC. 337
mask so unexpected that we think it the face of a
stranger, and, carrying up the semblance into divine
forms, delighted the prophetic eye of Swedenborg ;
and he must bo reckoned a leader in that revolution,
which, by giving to science an idea, has given to an
aimless accumulation of experiments, guidance and
form, and a beating heart.
I own, with some regret, that his printed works
amount to a&out fifty stout octavos, his scientific
works being about half of the whole number; and
it appears that a mass of manuscript still unedited
remains in the royal library at Stockholm. The
scientific works have just now been translated into
English, in an excellent edition.
Swedenborg printed these scientific books in the
ten years from 1734 to 1744, and they remained
from that time neglected: and now, after their
century is complete, he has at last found a pupil
in Mr. Wilkinson, in London, a philosophic critic,
with a coequal vigour of understanding and imagi-
nation comparable only to Lord Bacon's, who has
produced his master s buried books to the day, and
transferred them, with every advantage, from their
forgotten Latin into English, to go round the world
in our commercial and conquering tongue. This
startling reappearance of Swedenborg, after a hundred
years, in his pupil, is not the least remarkable fact
in his history. Aided, it is said, by the munificence
of Mr. Clissold, and also by his literary skill, this
piece of poetic justice is done. The admirable pre-
liminary discourses* with which Mr. Wilkinson has
VOL. iv. z
338 KTJ'KIlSKXTATm; MEN* f ntt
enriched these volume, throw all the contemporary
philosophy of England into shade, and loave me
nothing to Bay on thoir proper grounds.
The " Animal Kingdom " is a book of wonderful
merits, It mis written with tho higluwt end, to
put science and tho soul, long estranged from each
other, at one again. It was an anatomist's account
of the hmnan body, in tho highest style of poetry.
Nothing can exceed tho bold ami brilliant treatment
of a subject usually so dry and repulsive*, He gaw
nature "wivui.hin;jc through an vt*rlasting spiral,
with wheels that never dry, on MCIW that nwar oraak/*
and somotiniea sought "to uncover tho*o aaerat re-
cesses whore nature i sitting at. this fmw in the
deptlis of her laboratory ;" whilst thn picture eowies
recommended by tho hard fidelity with which it IE
based on practical anatomy, It is remarkable that
this sublime genius decides, jMvuiptnril\\ for the
analytic* against tho synthetic nt^tlicid j and, in a
book whoso gcinlun in a daring pocitk :A'nih*j-i,\ claims
to confine himself to a rigid <*xj'ritwn*.
lie knows, if he only, th flowing of natur^ and
how wise was that old answer of Anuwia to him who
bade him drink up tho <m, H Ye% willingly, if you
will atop the rivers that flow in," Few knew m
much about nature and hr mibtlo iimtmw, or ex
preaaed more ul>tly hr gi^ittga Ho thought AS
large a demand is made on our faith by nature as by
nuraelc'a **Ho notml that In hr iM-m-^^din^: from
first prinfij^f-i through hor several ink)rtliniiti<n%
was no state through whicfl ls did not
Hi.] SWEDENBORG ; OR, THE MYSTIC. 339
as if her path lay through all things." " For as often
as she hetakes herself upward from visible phenomena,
or, in other words, withdraws herself inward, she
instantly, as it were, disappears, while no one knows
what has become of her, or whither she is gone : so
that it is necessary to take science as a guide in pur-
suing her steps."
The pursuing the inquiry under the light of an
end or final cause gives wonderful animation, a
sort of personality to the whole writing. This
book announces his favourite dogmas. The ancient
doctrine of Hippocrates, that the brain is a gland;
and of Leucippus, that the atom may be known by
the mass ; or, in Plato, the macrocosm by the micro-
cosm ; and, in the verses of Lucretius,
Qssa videlicet e pauxillis atque minutis
Qssibus sic et de pauxillis atque minutis
Visceribus viscus gigni, sanguenque creari
Sanguinis inter se multis coeuntibus guttis ;
Ex aurique putat micis consistere posse
Attram, et de terris terram concrescere parvis ;
Ignibus ex igneis, humorem huraoribus esse.
LIB. I. 835.
"The principle of all things entrails made
OF smallest entrails j bone, of smallest bone ;
Blood, of small sanguine drops reduced to one ;
Gold, of small grains ; earth, of small sands compacted
Small drops to water, sparks to fire contracted : "
and which Malpighi had summed in his maxim, that
"nature exists entire in leasts," is a favourite
thought of Swedenborg. "It is a constant law of
the organic body, that large, compound, or visible
forms exist and sifbsist from qpxaUer, simpler, and
340 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [m,
ultimately from invisible forms, which act similarly
to the larger ones, but more perfectly and more uni-
versally; and the least forms so perfectly and uni-
versally, as to involve an idea representative of their
entire universe." The unities of each organ are so
many little organs, homogeneous with their com-
pound : the unities of the tongue are little tongues ;
those of the stomach, little stomachs; those of the
heart are little hearts. This fruitful idea furnishes a
key to every secret What was too small for the
eye to detect was read by the ai^rogaleH ; what was
too large, by the units. There is no end to his
application of the thought, " Hunger is an aggregate
of very many little hungers, or losses of blood by
the little veins all over tho body," It is a key to
his theology also. " Man is a kind of very minute
heaven, corresponding to the world of spirits and to
heaven. Every particular idea of man, and every
affection, yea, every smallest part of his affection, is
an image and effigy of him. A spirit may bo known
from only a single thought God is the grand man,"
The hardihood and thoroughness of his study of
nature required a theory of forms also, "Forms
ascend in order from the lowest to the highest. The
lowest form is angular, or the terrestrial and corporeal.
The second and next higher form is tho circular, which
is also called the perpetual-angular, because tho circum-
ference of a circle is a perpetual angle. Tho form
above this is the spiral, parent and measure of circular
forms : its diameters arc not rectilinear, but variously
circular, arid have ji spherical Surface for contra ;
in.] SWEDENBORG J OK, THK MYSTIC. 341
therefore it is called the perpetual-circular. The form
above this is the vortical, or perpetual-spiral : next,
the perpetual-vortical, or celestial : last, the perpetual-
celestial, or spiritual"
Was it strange that a genius so bold should take
the last step also, -conceive that he might attain
the science of all sciences, to unlock the meaning
of the world ? In the first volume on the " Animal
^
Kingdom/' he broaches the subject in a remarkable
note,
"In our doctrine of Kepresentatiom and Cor-
rcKpondonces, we shall treat of both these symbolical
and typical resemblances, and of the astonishing
things which occur, I will not say, in the living body
only, but throughout nature, and which correspond so
entirely to supreme and spiritual things, that one
would swoar that tho physical world was purely sym-
bolical of the spiritual world ; insomuch, that if w
choose to express any natural truth in physical and
definite vocal torma, and to convert these terms only
into tho corresponding and spiritual terms, we shall
by this means elicit a spiritual truth, or theological
dogma, in place of the physical truth or precept;
although no mortal would have predicted that any-
thing of tho kind could possibly arise by bare literal
transposition; inasmuch as the one precept, considered
separately from th other, appears to have absolutely
no relation to it, I intend, hereafter, to communicate
a number of exam plea of such corrcspomloncoH, to-
gether with a vocabulary containing , the terms of
spiritual things, m Wl as of tlyj physical things for
342 KKPJIBBKNTAT1VB MBN. [m
which they are to be substituted. Tins symbolism
pervades the living body."
The fact, thus explicitly stated, is implied in all
poetry, in allegory, in fable, in the use of emblems,
and in the structure of language. Plato knew of it,
as is evident from hie twice bisected lino in the sixth
book of the Republic, Lord Bacon had found that
truth and nature differed only as seal and print ; and
he instanced sotne physical propositions, with their
translation into a moral or political sense, Behmen,
and all myatics, imply this law, in their dark riddle-
writing. The poots, in as far as they are poets, use
it; but it is known to them only as the magnet was
known for ages, as a toy, Swodonborg first put the
fact into a detached and scientific statement, because
it was habitually present to him, and never not Boon*
It was involved, as we explained already, in the
doctrine of identity and iteration, because the mental
series exactly tallies with the material series. It
required an insight that could rank things in order
and series; or, rather, it required such righteous of
position, that the poles of tho eye should coincide
with the axis of the world. The earth had fed ita
mankind through five or six millennium^ and they had
sciences, religions, philosophies ; and yet had failed
to see tho comispondom 1 *! of moaning between every
part and every other part* And, down to this hour,
literature has no book in which tho .symbolism of
things is scientifically opened. On would say, that,
as soon as man had the first hint that every sensible
object, animal, rock,. river, air, fmy, space and time.
cn.] SWKUKNBOIW; OH, THR MYSTIC. 343
subsists not for itself, nor finally to a material end,
but as a picture-language to tell another story of beings
and duties, other science would be put by, and a
science of such grand presage would absorb all facul-
ties : that each man would ask of all objects, what
they mean : Why does the horizon hold me fast, with
my joy and grief, in this centre 1 "Why hear I the
same sense from countless differing voices, and read
one never quite expressed fact in endless picture-
language 1 Yet, whether it be that these things will
not bo intellectually learned, or that many centuries
must elaborate and compose so rare and opulent a
soul,- -there is no comet, rock-stratum, fossil, fish,
quadruped, spider, or fungus, that, for itself, does
not interest more scholars and classifiers than the
meaning and upshot of the frame of things.
But Swodenborg was not content with the culinary
use of the world In his fifty -fourth year, these
thoughts held him fast, and hie profound mind ad-
mitted the perilous opinion, too freqtient in religious
history, that ho waa an abnormal person, to whom
was granted tho privilege of conversing with angels
and spirits; arid this ecstasy connected itself with
just this office of explaining the moral import of the
sensible world To a right perception, at once broad
and minute, of tho order of nature, he added the
eompwhonaiim of tho moral laws in their widest social
aspects ; but whatever ho saw, through some excessive
determination to form, in his constitution, lie saw not
abstractly, but in pictures, hoard it in dialogues, con-
structed it in eveflte. When he attempted to an*
344 UKI'KKKKNTATIVK MKN. [m,
nounco the law most sandy, he was forced to couch
it in parable.
Modern psychology odors no similar example of a
deranged balance. The principal powere continued
to maintain a healthy action ; and, to a reader who
con tnalto duo allowance in the report for the reporter^
peculiarities, the results arc still instructive, and a
more striking testimony to tho sublime laws he an-
nounced, than any that balanced dulnoaa oonld afford,
He attempts to give some account of the tntxlus of tho
new state, affirming that " his preaonco in the spiritual
world is attended with a certain separation, but only
as to tho intellectual part of his mind, not m to tho
will part;" and he affirm that **ho BOOH, with the
internal sight, the things that are in another life,
more clearly than he m& tho things which are hero
in the world/'
Having adopted the belief that certain hookn of
tho Old and Now Testaments wary cxaot allegories,
or written in the angolic anil tat4$ witxlo, ho em-
ployed his remaining yearn in extricating from thn
literal the uni vernal seme* Ha hud Iwrruwwl innn
Plato the Fine faWo of " a most anriwit popl0 men
bettor than we, and dwelling nighor to the gods;'*
and Swt'th'uluu'g atldod, tlmfc they usotl tho earth
Hynih(lirally, that these, when they wiw torronfirial
oljects, did not think at all abtmt thorn, but only
about those which thy rngtufloeL Tim (Hrrnrtp(Hltuc
between thoughts and things htiiiouforwurd occupied
him. " The very organic form iirablt the and in-
scribed on ii j * A man ifl in Konoraf, and tn particwkr f
in.] SWEDMBQRG ; OB, THE MYST10. 345
an organised justice or injustice, selfishness or grati-
tude. And the cause of this harmony he assigned in
the Arcana : " The reason why all and single things,
in the heavens and on earth, are representative, is
because they exist from an influx of the Lord, through
heaven," This design of exhibiting such correspond-
ences, which, if adequately executed, would bo the
poem of the world, in which all history and science
would play an essential part, was narrowed and de-
feated by the exclusively theologic direction which his
inquiries took His perception of natxire is not human
and universal, but is mystical and Hebraic. He
fastens each natural object to a thoologic notion ; a
horse signifies carnal understanding ; a tree, percep-
tion ; the moon, faith j a cat means this ; an ostrich,
that; an artichoke, this other; and poorly tethers
every symbol to a several ecclesiastic sense. The
slippery Protons is not so easily caught In nature,
each individual symbol plays innumerable parts, as
each particle of matter circulates in turn throxigh
ovary system. The central identity enables any one
symbol to express successively all the qualities and
shades of real being. In the transmission of the
heavenly waters every hose fits every hydrant.
Nature avenges herself speedily on the hard pedantry
that would chain her waves. She is no literalist, Every-
thing must be taken genially, and we must be at the
top of our condition to understand anything rightly.
Ilia theological bias thus fatally narrowed his in-
terpretation of nature, and the dictionary of symbols
is yet to be written. But the interpreter, whom
34:6 HKIMIKSKNTATIVK MEN. [ m .
mankind muet still expect, will find no predecessor
who has approached BO near to the truo problem.
Swedenborg styles him;lf, in tho title-pago of his
books, "Servant of tho Lord Jtsuw Chrit;" and by
force of intellect, and in effect, ho is the last Father
in the Church, and IB not likely to have a successor,
No wonder that \m depth of ethical widom should
give him influence as a teaehor. To tho withered
traditional church yielding dry eatcwhJsfiw, ho lot in
nature again, and the worshipper, OHcaping from the
vestry of verbs and texts, is twrpriwnl to 'find himself
a party to tho whole of his religion* Ilk religion
thinks for Mm, and is of universal application. He
turns it on every side j it fits every part of life, in-
terprets and dignifies every circumtanc& Instead
of a religion which visited him diplomatically three
or four times when he wan born, whcm ho married,
when he fell sick, and when ho cluul, and for the rest
never interfered with him, -"here wiw a teaching
which accompanied him all day, accotnpamVd him
even into sleep and dreams ; into his thinking, and
showed him through what a long ancwtry his thoughts
descend ; into society, and showed by what afBmtiofl
he was girt to his equals and Inn anmtoparla j into
natural objects, and showed their origin and niwttiing,
what are friendly, and what ara hurtful ; uttd opened
the future world, by indicating tho continuity of the
same lawa His disciples alloga that tlunr intellect
is invigorated by the tudy of Im bok.
There is no such problem for oritidum iw lti thw-
logical writings, their merite are wj (ftrnimaudtiig ; yet
m.J SWKDENBQ11CJ ; OR, THE MYSTIC. 347
such grave deductions must l>e made. Their immense
and sandy diffuseness is like the prairie, or the desert,
and their incongruities are like the last deliration.
He is superfluously explanatory, and his feeling of the
ignorance of men strangely exaggerated. Men take
truths oi this nature very fast. Yet he abounds in
assertions, he is a rich discoverer, and of things which
most import us to know. His thought dwells in
essential resemblances, like the resemblance of a house
to the man who built It. He saw things in their law,
in likeness of function, not of structure. There is an
invariable method and order in his delivery of his
truth, the habitual proceeding of the mind from in-
most to outmost What earnestness and weightiness,
his oye never roving, without one swell of vanity,
or one look to self, in any common form of literary
pride ! a theoretic or spoctilative man, but whom no
practical man in tho universe could affect to scorn.
Plato ia a gownsman ; his garment, though of purple,
and almost sky-woven, is an academic robe, and hinders
action with its voluminous folds. But this mystic is
awful to Caesar* Lycurgua himself would bow.
The moral insight of Swedenborg, the correction
of popular errors, the announcement of ethical laws,
take him out of comparison with any other modern
writer, and entitle him to a place, vacant for some
agea, among tho lawgivers of mankind. That slow
but commanding influence which, he has acquired,
like that of other religious geniuses, must be excessive
also, and have its tides, before it subsides into a per-
manent amount* Of course, what ts real and uni-
H8 KK1MIKSKNTATIVK MEN, fm,
versal cannot be confined to tho circle of those who
sympathise strictly with his genius, but will pass forth
into the common stock of wise and just thinking.
The world has a sure chemistry, by which it extracts
what is excellent in its children, and lets fall tho
infirmities and limitations of the grandest mincl.
That metempsychosis which is familiar in tho old
mythology of the G rooks, collected in Ovid, and in
tho Indian Transmigration, and is there oft/Mtu^ or
really takes place in bodies by alien will, -in Sweden-
borg's mind has a more philosophic character, It is
subjective or depends entirely upon the thought of
the person. All things in the universe arrange them-
selves to each person anew, according to his ruling
love. Man is such as his affection and thought are,
Man is man by virtue of willing, not by virtue of
knowing and understanding, As h is f go he sees,
The marriages of the world aro broken up. Interiors
associate all in the spiritual world* Whntovor tho
angels looked upon was to thorn eeloRtial. Btwh Satan
appears to himself a man ; to those au bad aa ho, a
comely man; to tho purified, a huap of carrion.
Nothing can resist states; Kvrrylhin;; gravitate:
like will to like: what we call politic justice taktw
effect on the spot Wo have come into a world which
is a living poem. Everything its m I ant. Bird and
beast is not bird and boant, but emanation and effluvia
of the minds and wills of mon there pnommi Every
one makes his own. house and utatc*, The aro
tormented with the fear of death, and otumot wsmcimber
that they have died Thw who areln ovll and fake*
m.] SWEDENBOKQ; OB, THE MYSTIC. 349
hood are afraid of all others. Such as have deprived
themselves of charity, wander and flee ; the societies
which they approach discover their quality, and drive
thorn away. The covetous seom to themselves to be
abiding in cells where their money is deposited, and
these to be infested with mice. They who place
merit in good works seom to themselves to cut wood.
*'I asked such if they were not wearied. They
replied, thaf they have not yet done work enough to
merit heaven,"
Ho delivers golden sayings, which express with
singular beauty the ethical laws ; as when he uttered
that famed sentence, that, "in heaven the angels are
advancing continually to the spring-time of their
youth, so that the oldest angel appears the youngest ; "
** The more angck, the mor room, : 5> " The perfection
of man is the love of ua t " " Man, in his perfect form,
in heaven;" "What is from Him, is Him:" "Ends
always ascend as nature descends:" And the truly
poetic account of the writing in the inmost heaven,
which, as it consists of inflexions according to the
form of heaven, can ho road without instruction. He
almost justifies his claim to preternatural vision by
strange insights of the structure of the human body
and mind "It is never permitted to any one, in
hoavon, to atand behind another and look at the back
of his head ; for them the influx which is from the
Lord is disturbed," The angels, from the sound of
the voice, know a man's love ; from the articulation
of the sound, hi wwdom ; and from the sense of the
words. Ma
350 EEPRESENTATIYE MTO [in.
In the " Conjugal Love" ho has unfolded the science
of marriage, Of this book, one would say that, with
the highest elements, it has failed of success. It came
near to be the Hymn of Love, which Plato attempted
in the "Banquet;" the love which, Dante says,
Casella sang among the angels in Paradise; and
which, as rightly celebrated, in its genesis, fruition,
and effect, might well entrance the souls, aa it would
lay open the genesis of all institutions, customs, and
manners. The book had boon grand, if the Hebraism
had been omitted, and the law stated without Gothi-
cism, as ethics, and with that scope for ascension of
state which the nature of things requires* It is a
fine Platonic development of tho science of marriage ;
teaching that sex is universal, and not local ; virility
in the male qualifying every organ, act, and thought ;
and the feminine in woman. Therefore, in the roal
or spiritual world, the nuptial union is not momentary,
but incessant and total ; and chastity not a local, but
a universal virtue; unchaatity being discovered as
much in the trading, or planting, or speaking, or
philosophising, as in generation; and that, though
the virgins he saw in heaven wore beautiful, the wives
were incomparably more beautiful, and wont on in-
creasing in beauty evermore,
Yet Swedonborg, after his mode, pinned his theory
to a temporary form. He exaggerates the circum-
stance of marriage ; and, though he finds fake mar-
riages on earth, fancies a wiser choice in heaven.
But of progressive souls, all loves and friendships are
momentary, Do you lorn OT<? f means, 1 )o you ee the
,n.] SWEBBNBOBG; On, THE MYSTIC 35 1
same truth? If you do, we arc happy with the
same happiness : but presently one of us passes into
the perception of new truth ; we are divorced, and no
tension in nature can hold us to" each other. I know
how delicious is this cup of love, -I existing for you,
you existing for me ; but it is a child's clinging to his
toy ; an attempt to eternise the fireside and nuptial
chamber ; to keep the picture-alphabet through which
our first lessens are prettily conveyed. The Eden of
God is bare and grand ; like the out-door landscape,
remembered from the evening fireside, it seems cold
and desolate, whilst you cower over the coals ; but,
once abroad again, wo pity those who can forego the
magnificence of nature for candlelight and cards,
Perhaps the true subject of the " Conjugal Love " is
GtiMwrtMtwn, whoso laws are profoundly eliminated.
It is false, if literally applied to marriage. For God
is tho bride or bridegroom of the soul. Heaven is
not the pairing of two, but the communion of all
Boula We meet, and dwell an instant under the
temple of one thought, and part as though we parted
not, to join another thought in other fellowships of
joy* So far from thoro being anything divine in the
low and proprietary sense of Do yon love me ? it is only
when you leave and lose me, by casting yourself on
a sentiment which is higher than both of us, that I
draw near, and find myself at your side ; and I am
repelled if you fix your eye on me, and demand love,
Tn fact, in the spiritual world wo change soxes every
moment You love the worth in mej then I am
your lumbawl ; fcufc it is not me, but the worth, that
352 RKIMIKSKNTATIVK MEN. [ In ,
fixes the love ; and that worth is a drop of the ocean
of worth that is beyond me, Meantime, I adore the
greater worth in another, and HO become his wife,
He aspires to a higher worth in another spirit, and
is wife or receiver of that influence.
Whether a self -inquisitorial habit, that he grow
into, from jealousy of the sina to which men of
thought are liable, ho has acquired, in 'disentangling
and demonstrating that particular form of moral
disease, an acumon which no conscience can resist,
I refer to his feeling of the profanation of thinking to
what is good "from scientific*" "To mason about
faith, is to doubt and deny," Ho was painfully alive
to the difference between, knowing and doing, and
this sensibility h incessantly ex.prtwed. Philosophers
are, therefore, vipers, cockatrices^ oapH, hemorrhoids,
presters, and flying serpents ; literary mm are con-
jurors and charlatans.
But this topic suggest* a sad afterthought, that
here we find the seat of his own pain. Possibly
Swedenborg paid the penalty of Jntrovorttul faculties.
Success, or a fortunate genius, seems to depend on a
happy adjustment of heart and Brain ; on a due pro-
portion, hard to hit, of moral and mental power,
which, perhaps, obeys the law of those chemical
ratios which make a proportion in volumes necessary
to combination, as when will combine in certain
fixed rates, but not at any rate. It is hard to carry
a full cup ; and this man, profusely endowed in heart
and mind, early liell into dati^mwa* Uncord with him-
ill.] SWEDENBQRG- ; OR, THE MYSTIC. 353
self. In bis Animal Kingdom, he surprised us, by
declaring that he loved analysis, and not synthesis ;
and now, after his fiftieth year, he falls into jealousy
of his intellect ; and, though aware that truth ia not
solitary, nor is goodness solitary, but both must ever
mix and marry, he makes war on his mind, takes the
part of the conscience against it, and, on all occasions,
traduces ad blasphemes it, The violence is instantly
avenged. Beauty is disgraced, love is unlovely,
when truth, the half part of heaven, is denied, as
much as when a bitterness in men of talent leads to
satire, and destroys "the judgment. He is wise, but
wise in his OWE despite. There is an air of infinite
grief, and the sound of wailing, all over and through
this lurid universe, A vampyre sits in the seat of the
prophet, and turns with gloomy appetite to the
images of pain. Indeed, a bird does not more readily
weave its nest, or a mole bore into the ground, than this
seer of the souls substracts a new hell and pit, each
more abominable than the last, round every new crew
of offenders. He was let down through a column
that seemed of brass, but it was formed of angelic
spirits, that he might descend safely amongst the
unhappy, and witness the vastation of souls; and heard
there, for a long continuance, their lamentations ; he
saw their tormentors, who increase and strain pangs
to infinity ; he saw the hell of the jugglers, the hell
of the assassins, the hell of the lascivious ; the hell of
robbers, who kill and boil men ; the infernal tun of
the deceitful ; the exeremontitious hells j the hell of
the revengeful, wltone faces resemble^ a round, broad
vou IV 2 A
354 KBPEESKNTATIVB MEN. [ Irl
cake, and their arms rotate like a wheel. Except
Kabelais and Dean Swift, nobody ever had such science
of filth and corruption.
These books should be used with caution. It is
dangerous to sculpture these evanescing images of
thought. True in transition, they become false if
fixed. It requires, for his just apprehension, almost
a genius equal to his own. Bub when his visions
become the stereotyped language of ^multitudes of
persons, of all degrees of ago and capacity, they are
perverted. The wise people of the Greek race were
accustomed to lead the most intelligent and virtuous
young men, as part of their education, through the
Eleusinian mysteries, wherein, with much pomp and
graduation, the highest truths known to ancient
wisdom were taught, An arclont and contemplative
young man, at eighteen or twenty years, might read
once these books of Swedonborg, these mysteries of
love and conscience, and then throw them aside for
ever. Genius is over haunted by similar dreams,
when the hells and the hoavona arc opened to it
But those pictures are to bo held tw mystical, that is,
as a quite arbitrary and accidental picture of the
truth, not as tho truth. Any other symbol would
be as good : then this m safely seen
Swedenborg's system of the world wants contra]
spontaneity ; it is dynamic, not vital, and lacks power
to generate life. There is no individual in it. The
universe is a gigantic crystal, all whose atomi ami
lamina le in uf!nterraptd ordctr, acid with tmlnrokon
in.] SWEDENBOEG ; OR, THE MYSTIC. 355
unity, but cold and still. What seems an individual
and a will, is none. There is an immense chain of
intermediation, extending from centre to extremes,
which bereaves every agency of all freedom and
character. The universe, in his poem, suffers under
a magnetic sleep, and only reflects the mind of the
magnetiser. Every thought comee into each mind by
influence from a society of spirits that surround it,
and into these^rorn a higher society, and so on. All
his types mean the same few things. All his figures
speak one speech. All his interlocutors Sweden-
borgiso, Be they who they may, to this complexion
must they come at last. This Charon ferries them
all over in his boat; kings, counsellors, cavaliers,
doctors, Sir Isaac Newton, Sir Hans Sloane, King
George II., Mahomet, or whosoever, and all gather
one grimness of hue and sty la Only when Cicero
comes by, our gentle seer sticks a little at saying he
talked with Cicero, and with a touch of human
relenting, remarks, "one whom it was given me to
believe was Cicero j" and when the sol dismt Boman
opens his mouth, Rome and eloquence have ebbed
away, it is plain theologic Swedenborg, like the rest,
His heavens and hells are dull; fault of want of
individualism. The thousand-fold relation of men is
not Aero, Th interest that attaches in nature to
each man, because he is right by his wrong, and
wrong by his right, because he defies all dogmatising
md classification, so many allowances, and contin-
gencies, and futurities, axe to be taken into account,
strong by Ms vicel, often paralvsecl Iftr Ms virtues,- '
356 BBP3BESRNTATIVB MBH, [ IIL
sinks into entire sympathy with Ms society. This
want reacts to the centre of the system. Though the
agency of " the Lord " is in every line referred to by
name, it never becomes alive* There is no lustre in
that eye which gazes from the centre, and which
should vivify the immense dependency of beings,
The vice of Sw^denborg's mind is its theologic
determination. Nothing with him has the liberality
of universal wisdom, but we are always in a church.
That Hebrew muse, which taught the lore of right
and wrong to men, had the same excess of influence
for him it has had for the nations. The mode, as
well as the essence, was sacred, Palestine is ever
the more valuable as a chapter in universal history,
and ever the less an available element in education,
The genius of Swedenborg, largest of all modern
souls in this department of thought, wasted itself in
the endeavour to reanimate arid conserve what had
already arrived at its natural term, and, in the great
secular Providence, was retiring from it* prominence
before western modes of thought and oxpnwsioii.
Swedenborg and Behman both failed by attaching
themselves to the Christian symbol, instead of to the
moral sentiment, which carries innumerable Chris-
tianities, humanities, divinities, in its bosom.
The excess of influence shows itself in the incon-
gruous importation of a foreign rhetoric, u What have
I to do," aska the impatient reader, *' with jasper and
sardonyx, beryl and chalcedony ; what with and
passovers, ephahs and ephods ; what with kpers and
emerods; what with heave -offirargs md unleavened
HI.] SWEDENBOKG ; OK, THE MYSTIC. 357
bread ; chariots of fire, ciragons crowned and horned,
behemoth and unicorn 1 Good for orientals, these
are nothing to me. The more learning you bring to
explain them, the more glaring the impertinence.
The more coherent and elaborate the system, the less
I like it. I say, with the Spartan, 'Why do you
speak so much to the purpose, of that which is
nothing to the purpose V My learning is such as
God gave me*in my birth and habit, in the delight
and study of my eyes, and not of another man's. Of
all absurdities, this of some foreigner, proposing to
take away my rhetoric, and substitute his own, and
amuse me with pelican and stork, instead of thrush
and robin; palm trees and shittim-wood, instead of
sassafras and hickory,- seems the most needless."
Locke said, "God, when ha makes the prophet,
does not unmake the man." Swedenborg's history
points the remark The parish disputes, in the
Swedish church, between the friends and foes of
Luther and Molancthon, concerning "faith alone,"
and u works alone," intrude themselves into his specu-
lations upon the economy of the universe, and of the
celestial societies. The Lutheran bishop's son, for
whom the heavens ar opened, so that he sees with
eyes, and in the richest symbolic forms, the awful
truth of things, and utters again, in his books, as
under a heavenly mandate, the indisputable secrets
of moral nature, with all these grandeurs resting
upon Mm, remains the Lutheran bishop's son; his
judgments are those of a Swedish polemic, and his
vast enlargements! purchased by adftaantine limita-
858 BSPKBSBNTATIVB MM. [ Ia
tions. He carries Ms controversial memory with Mm,
in Ms visits to the souls* He is like Michel Angelo,
who, in Ms frescoes, put the cardinal who had offended
him to roast under a mountain of devils; or, like
Dante, who avenged, in vindictive melodies, all his
private wrongs; or, perhaps still more like Montaigne's
parish priest, who/ if a hail-storm pasaoB over the
village, thinks the day of doom in come, and the
cannibals already have got the pip,* Swodenborg
confounds us not less with the pains of Molancthon,
and Luther, and Wolfius, and his own books, which
he advertises among the angels,
Under the same theologic cramp, many of his
dogmas are bound. His cardinal position in morals
is, that evils should bo shunnocl as sins. But he does
not know what evil is, or what good is, who thinks
any ground remains to b occupied, after saying
that evil is to be shunned as evil 1 doubt not ho was
led by the desire to insert tho element of pummality
of Deity. But nothing is added. One man, you
say, dreads crysipelnv -HUH whim that this dread is
evil; or, one dreads hell s show him that dread is
evil He who loves goodness, harbours angels,
reveres reverence, and lives with God, The less we
have to do with our sins the better. No man can
afford to waste Ms moments in cotnptmHions. "That
is active duty, 1 ' say the Hindoos, " which is not for
our bondage; that is knowledge, which is for our
liberation : all other duty is pod only unto waarinm"
Another dogma, growing out of thin pernicious
theologic limitation, is this Inf&no.
in.] SWBDBNBOBG J OR, THE MYSTIC. 359
has devils. Evil, according to old philosophers, is
good in the making. That pure malignity can exist,
is the extreme proposition of unbelief. It is not to
be entertained by a rational agent ; it is atheism j it
is the last profanation. Euripides rightly said,
" Goodness and being in tlxe gods are one ;
Ho who imputes ill to them makes them none."
To what a painful perversion had Gothic theology
arrived, that Swedenborg admitted no conversion for
evil spirits ! But the divine effort is never relaxed ;
the carrion in the s\in will convert itself to grass
and flowers ; and man, though in brothels, or jails, or
on gibbets, is on his way to all that is good and true,
Burns, with the wild humour of his apostrophe to
poor old NicMc Bon,"
" wad ye talc a thought, and mend '"
has the advantage of the vindictive theologian.
Everything is superficial, and perishes, but love and
truth only. The largest is always the truest senti-
ment, and we feel the more generous spirit of the
Indian Vishnu, "I am the same to all mankind.
There is not one who is worthy of my love or hatred.
They who serve me with adoration, I am in them,
and they in me, If one whose ways are altogether
evil, serve mo alone, he is as respectable as the just
man; he is altogether well employed ; he soonbecometh
of a virtuous spirit, and obtaineth eternal happiness,"
For the aaomalouB pretension of Kevelations of
the other world, only his probity and genius can
entitle it to any serious regard. His revelations
destroy their credit by running into detail If a
360 BKPKJBSKKTATIVK MEN. [ m ,
man say that the Holy Ghost has informed him that
the Last Judgment (or the last of the judgments)
took place in 1757 ; or, that the Dutch, in the other
world, live in a heaven by themselves, and the
English in a heaven by themselves; I reply, that"
the Spirit which is holy, is reserved, taciturn, and
deals in laws. The .rumours of ghosts and hobgoblins
gossip and tell fortune. The teachings of the high
Spirit are abstemious, and, in regard to particulars,
negative. Socrates's Genius did not advise him to
act or to find, but if he purposed to do somewhat not
advantageous, it dissuaded him, ** What God is," he
said, "I know not; what he is not, 1 know," The
Hindoos have denominated the Supreme Being, the
"Internal Check" The illuminated Quakers ex-
plained their Light, not as somewhat which leads to
any action, but it appears as an obstruction to any-
thing unfit But the right examples are private
experiences, which are absolutely at one on this
point. Strictly speaking, Swedonborg'B revelation is
a confounding of planes, a capital offence in so
learned a categorist This is to carry the law of
surface into the plane of substance, to carry indivi-
dualism and its fopperies into the realm of owences
and generals, which is dislocation and chaos.
The secret of heaven is kept from age to No
imprudent, no sociable angel ever clropt an early
syllable to answer the longings of sainte, the fears of
mortal* We should have listened on our knees
to any favourite, who, by stricter obwlience, had
brought Ms thoughts into partUolisnf with the celestial
in.] SWJGDENBOHG ; OR, THE MYSTIC. 361
currents, and could hint to human ears the scenery
and circumstance of the newly parted soul. But it
is certain that it must tally with what is best in
nature. It must not be inferior in tone to the
already known works of the artist who sculptures
the globes of the firmament, and writes the moral
law. It must be fresher than rainbows, stabler than
mountains, agreeing with flowers, with tides, and the
rising and setting of autumnal stars. Melodious
poets shall bo hoarse as street ballads, when once the
penetrating key-noto of nature and spirit is sounded,
-the earth -beat, sea-beat, heart-beat, which makes
the tune to which the sun rolls, and the globule of
blood, and the sap of trees.
In this mood, we hear the rumour that the seer
has arrived, and his tale is told. But there is no
beauty, no heaven: for angels, goblins. The sad
muse loves night and death, and the pit. His
Inferno ia mesmeric. His spiritual world bears the
samo relation to the generosities and joys of truth,
of which human souls have already made us cog-
nisant, m a man*B bad dreams bear to his ideal
life. It is indeed very like, in its endless power of
lurid pictures, to the phenomena of dreaming, which
nightly turns many an honest gentleman, benevolent,
but dyspeptic, into a wretch, skulking like a dog
about the outer yards and kennels of creation. When
ho mounts into the heaven I do not hoar its language.
A man fihould not tell me that he has walked among
the angels ; MB proof is, that his eloquence makes me
one, Shall the aifthangels bo less malestic and sweet
362 KEPRESENTATIVB MEN, J ItL
than tlie figures that hare actually walked the earth 1
These angels that Swedenborg paints give us no very
high idea of their discipline and culture : they are
all country parsons : their heaven is a f$U ehampetre,
an evangelical picnic, or French distribution of prizes
to virtuous peasants. Strange, scholastic, didactic,
passionless, bloodless man, who denotes classes of
souls as a botanist disposes of a carouc, and visits
doleful hells as a stratum of chalk w hornblende !
He has no sympathy. He goes up and down the
world of men, a modern Rhatlamanthus in gold-
headed cane and peruke, and with nonchalance, and
the air of a referee, distributes souls. The warm,
many-weathered, passionate-peopled world is to him
a grammar of hieroglyphs, or an emblematic free-
mason's procession. How different is Jacob Behmen I
he is tremulous with emotion, and listens awe-struck,
with the gentlest humanity, to the Teacher whose
lessons he conveys; and when ho assorts that "in
some sort, love is greater than God/* his heart beats
so high that the thumping against his leathern coat
is audible across the centuries, *Tis a groat differ-
ence. Behmen is healthily and beautifully wise,
notwithstanding the mystical narrowness and incom-
municabloness, Swedonborg ia disagreeably wiso, and
with all his accumulated gifts, paralyses and repels.
It is the best eign of a groat nature that it opens
a foreground, and, like the breath of morning land-
scapes, invites us onward* Swodonborg is retrospec-
tive, nor c&n we divest Mm of Ms mattock and
shroud, Somfi minds ar lor ev*r restrained from
m.] SWEBBNBOEG ; OE, THE MYSTIC. 363
descending into nature ; others are for ever prevented
from ascending out of it. "With a force of many
men, he could never break the umbilical cord which
held him to nature, and he did not rise to the plat-
form of pure genius.
It is remarkable that this man, who, by his percep-
tion of symbols, saw the poetic construction of things,
and the primary relation of mind to matter, remained
entirely devoid of the whole apparatus of poetic ex-
pression, which that perception creates. He knew the
grammar aad rudiments of the Mother-Tongue, how
could ho not read off one strain into music 1 Was he
like Saadi, who, in his vision, designed to fill his lap
with the celestial flowers, as presents for his friends ;
but the fragrance of the roses so intoxicated him that
tho skirt dropped from his hands 1 or, is reporting a
broach of the manners of that heavenly society ? or,
was it that he saw tho vision intellectually, and hence
that chiding of the intellectual that pervades his
books 1 Be it as it may, his books have no melody,
no emotion, no humour, no relief to the dead prosaic
level In his profuse and accurate imagery is no
pleasure, for there is no beauty* We wander forlorn
in a lack-lustre landscape. No bird ever sang in all
these gardens of the dead. The entire want of poetry
in BO transcendent a mind betokens the disease, and,,
like a hoars voice in a beautiful person, is a kind of
warning. I think, sometimes, he will not be read
longer. His great name will turn a sentence. His
books have become a monument. His kurel so largely
mixed with cyprew, a chamel-breath %o mingles with
364 BKPHK8BNTATIVK MEN. m,j
the temple incense, that boys and maids will shun the
spot.
Yet, in this immolation of genius and fame at the
shrine of conscience, is a merit sublime beyond praise.
He lived to purpose ; ho gave a verdict He elected
goodne&s as the clue to which thts oul must cling in
all this labyrinth $f nature. Many opinions conflict
as to the true centre. In the shipwreck, some cling
to running rigging, some to cask and barrel, some to
spars, some to mmt> ; the pilot chooses with science,
I plant myself here ; all will sink before this ; " he
comes to land who sails with mo/* Bo not rely on
heavenly favour, or on companion to folly, or on
prudence, on common souse, the old usage and main
chance of men : nothing can keep you. not fate, nor
health, nor admirable intellect j none can keep you,
but rectitude only, rectitude for ever arid ever ! and
with a tenacity that never swerved in all his studios,
inventions, drowns, he adliores to this brave choice.
I think of him as of some transmigrating votary of
Indian legend, who says, ** Though 1 bo dog, or jackal,
or pismire, in the last rudiments of nature, tmder
what integument or ferocity, I cleave to right, an the
sure ladder that leads up to man and to God/*
Swedenborg has rendered a double nervie to man-
kind, which is now only Iwjiunin'* to be known. By
the science of experiment and nso he made his first
steps : he observed and published the laws of nature ;
and, ascending by just degreei, from wants to their
summits and causes, he WM firocl with piety at the
harmomea he tell* and abandoned* himself to hk joy
ill.] SWTSDMBOBG ; OR, THE MYSTIC. 365
and worship. This was his first service. If the glory
was too bright for his eyes to bear, if he staggered
under the trance of delight, the more excellent is the
spectacle he saw, the realities of being which beam
and blasse through him, and which no infirmities of
the prophet are suffered to obscure ; and he renders
a second passive service to men/not less than the
first, perhaps, in the great circle of being, and in the
retributions of* spiritual nature, not less glorious or
less beautiful to himseli
IV.
MONTAIGNE; OR, THE SCEPTIC
EVBBY fact is related on one side to sensation, and,
on the other, to morals. The game of thought is, on
the appearance of one of these two sides, to find the
other : given the upper, to find the under side.
Nothing so thin, but has those two faces ; and, when
the observer has seen the obverse, he turns it over to
see the reverse. Life is a pitching of this penny,
heads or tails. We never tire of this game, because
there is still a slight shudder of astonishment at the
exhibition of the other face, at the contrast of the
two faces. A man is flushed with success, and
bethinks himself what this good luck signifies. He
drives Ms bargain in the street ; but it occurs, that
he also is bought and sold, He sees the beauty of a
human face, and searches the cause of that beauty,
which must be more beautiful. He builds his fortunes,
maintains the laws, cherishes his children; but he
asks himself, whyl and whereto 1 This head and
this tail arc called^ in the language 8f philosophy,
368 EEPBBSKNTATIVE MEN. [iy,
Infinite and Finite ; Relative and Absolute ; Apparent
and Real ; and many fine names beside.
Each man is born with a predisposition to one or
the other of these sides of nature ; and it will easily
happen that men will be found devoted to one or the
other, One class has the perception of difference, and
is conversant with facts and surfaces; cities and
persona ; and the bringing certain things to pass ;
the men of talent and action, Another class have
the perception of identity, and are men of faith and
philosophy, men of genius.
Each of those riders drives too faat. Plotinua
believes only in philosopher*; Fenelon, in saints;
Pindar and Byron, in poets. Read the haughty
language in which Plato and the Piatoniate speak of
all men who are not devoted to their own shining
abstractions; other men are rate and mica The
literary class is usually proud and exclusive. The
correspondence of Pope and Swift describes mankind
around them as monsters; and that of Goethe and
Schiller, in our own time, m scarcely more kind,
It is daisy to soe how this arrogmuw cornea The
genius is a genius by the first look he caate on any
object. Is his eye creative 1 Does he not rot in
angles and colours, but beholds the da&ign,~-he will
presently undervalue the actual object. In powerful
moments, Ma thought has dissolved the* worki of art
and nature into their oanseft, o that the works appear
heavy and faulty, Ho has a conception of beauty
which the sculptor cannot embody. Picture, statue,
temple, rwlrc&d, steam -angina, rxistod first in aa
iv.] MONTAIGNE ; OB, THE SCEPTIC. 369
artist's mind, without flaw, mistake, or friction, which
impair the executed models. So did the church, the
state, college, court, social circle, and all the institu-
tions. It is not strange that these men, remembering
what they have seen and hoped of ideas, should affirm
disdainfully the superiority of ideas* Having at some
time seen that the happy soul will carry all the arts
in power, they say, Why cumber ourselves with super-
fluous realisations 1 and, like dreaming beggars, they
asstime to speak and act as if these values were already
substantiated.
On the other part, the men of toil and trade and
luxury,- the animal world, including the animal in
the philosopher and poet also, and the practical
world, including the painful drudgeries which are
never excused to philosopher or poet any more than
to the rests woigh heavily on th other side. The
trade in our streets believes in no metaphysical causes,
thinks nothing of the force which necessitated traders
and a trading planet to exist : 110, but sticks to cotton,
HUgar, wool, and salt. The ward meetings, on election
days, aio not softened by any misgiving of the value
of those ballotingH, Hot life is streaming in a single
direction. To the men of this world, to the animal
wtnmgth and spirits, to the men of practical power,
whilst immersed in it, the man of ideas appears out
of his reason, They alone have reason.
Things alwayw bring their own philosophy with
them, that is, prudtmco. No man acquires property
without acquiring with it a little arithmetic also.
In England, the ^richest country thffc ever existed,
vox* iv, 2 B
370 KKPKKSKNTATIVK MKN, [IV,
property stands for more, compared with persona]
ability, than ini any other, After dinner, a man be-
lieves less, denies mor : verities have lost, some charm.
After dinner, arithmetic is the only science: ideas
are disturbing, incendiary, follies of young men, re-
pudiated by the solid portion of society ; and a man
comes to be valued hjr his athletic and animal qualities.
Spenee relates that Mr, Pope wan with Sir Godfrey
Kneller one day, whan MB nophow, a Ouinoa trader,
came in. "Nephew," said Sir Godfrey, "you have
the honour of seeing the two greatest men in the
world." " I don't know how great men you may bo,"
said the Guinea man, "but I don't like your looks,
1 have often bought a man much better than both of
you, all muscles and bones, for ten guinoa&" Thus,
the men ol the menses revenge themtolvas on the pro-
fessors, and repay ecom for ocom. The first had
leaped to conclusions not yet ripe, and say more than
is true ; the others make themselves merry with the
philosopher, and weigh man by tbe pound- They
believe that mustard bites the tongue, that pepper is
hot, friction-matches are Incendiary, revolvers to b
avoided, and suspenders hold up pantaloons; that
there is much sentiment in a cheat of tea ; and' a mm
will be eloquent If you give him good wine. Are
you tender wad florujwlou-s, -you must eat more
mince-pie. They hold that Luther had milk in him
when he said,
" W nl&t llebt Win Weib, nn4
D Idoibt aift Bfonr ttia Lebon lng ; "
aaatd when he swfvised & young nabob?, i>i'rplxetl with
nr,] MONTAIGNE; OK, THE SCEPTIC. 371
foroordination and free-will, to get well drunk " The
nerves," says Cabanis, "they are the man." My
neighbour, a jolly farmer, in the tavern bar-room,
thinks that the uso of money is sure and speedy
spending. "For his part," he says, "ho puts his
down his nock, and gets the good of it."
The inconvenience of this wa;f of thinking is that
it runs into mdifTorontism, and then into disgust. Life
is eating us up. We shall bo fables presently, Keep
cool ; it will ho all one a hundred years hence. Life's
well enough ; but we shall be glad to get out of it,
and they will alt be glad to have us. Why should
wo f rot and drudge 1 Our meat will taste to-morrow
as it did yesterday, and wo may at last have had
enough of it " Ah," Raid my languid gentleman at
Oxford, "there's nothing new or true, and no matter."
With a little more bitterness, the cynic moans : our
life is like an ass led to market by a bundle of hay
being curried before him : he sees nothing but the
bundle of hay, " There in so much trouble in coming
into the world," said Lord Bolingbroke, "and so much
more, as well aa wonimrsH, in going out of it, that 'tis
hardly worth while to be here at all." I knew a
philoHopher of this kidney, who was accustomed
briefly to num up his experience of human nature in
saying, "Mankind is a damned rascal;" and the
natural corollary is pretty sure to follow,-" The
world live** by humbug, aid so will L"
The almtractionwt and the materalfet thus mutually
(ixasprratm^ eooh other, and the scoffer expressing
the worst of rnatoAlism, there jwiws a third party to
$72 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [ IV ;
occupy the middle ground between those two, the
sceptic, namely. He finds both wrong by being in
extremes. He labours to plant his feet, to be the
beam of the balance. He will not go beyond his card*
He sees the one-sidedness of those men of the street ;
he will not be a Gibeonite \ he stands for the intel-
lectual faculties, a co*ol head, and whatever serves to
keep it cool : no unadvised industry, no unrewarded
self-devotion, no loss of the brains in tioil Am I an
ox, or a dray 1- You are both in extremes, he says,
You that will have all solid, and a world of pig-lead,
deceive yourselves grossly* You believe yourselves
rooted and grounded on adamant ; and yet, if we un-
cover the last facts of our knowledge, you are spin-
ning like bubbles in a river, you know not whither
or whence, and you are bottomed and capped and
wrapped in delusions,
Neither will he be betrayed to a book, and wrapped
in a gown, The studious class are their own victims ;
they are thin and pale, their feet are cold, their heads
are hot, the night is without skep, the day a fear of
interruption, pallor, squalor, hunger, and egotism,
If you come near them, and sea what conceits they
entertain, they are ab&traotionifita, arid spend their
days and nights in dreaming soma droiun ; in expect-
ing the homage of society to some precious scheme
built on a truth, but destitute of proportion in it*
presentment, of jusfeaens in its application* and of all
energy of will in the schemer to omtxxly and vitalise
}t
But I BS plainly, Jjte thaf'I cannot see* 1
rV,] MONTAIGNE ; OB, THE SCEPTIC. 37 3^
know that human strength is not in extremes, but
in avoiding extremes. I, at least, will shun the
weakness of philosophising beyond my depth. What
is the uso of pretending to powers we have not? What
is the use of pretending to assurances we have not,
respecting the other life 1 Why exaggerate the power
of virtue \ Why be an angel before your time 1 These
strings, wound up too high, will snap. If there is a
wish for immortality, and no evidence, why not say
just thatl If there are conflicting evidences, why
not state them 1 If there is not ground for a candid
thinker to make up his mind, yea or nay, why not
suspend the judgment 1 I weary of these dogmatisers.
I tire of these hacks of routine, who deny the dogmas,
1 neither affirm nor deny. I stand here to try the
case, I am here to consider, <r/c$7rTt,v f to consider
how it is, 1 will try to keep the balance true. Of
what use to take the chair, and glibly rattle off theories
of society, religion^ and nature, when I know that
practical objections Mo in the way, insurmountable by
mo and by my mates 1 Why so talkative in public
when each of my neighbours can pin me to my seat
by arguments I cannot refute? Why pretend that
Ufa is so simple a game, when we know how subtle
and <uluivo the Proteus is 1 Why think to shut up
all thinga in your narrow coop, when we know there
are not owe or two only, but ten, twenty, a thousand
things, and unlike) Why fancy that you have all
the truth in your keeping I There is much to say OB
all sldci,
Who shall folbid a mm ^scepticism, seeing thai
374 REPKKSBNTATIVB MM, [rv.
there is no practical question on which anything
more that an approximate solution can bo hadl Is
not marriage an open question, when it is alleged,
from the beginning of the world, that such as are in
the institution wish to get out, and such as are out
wish to got in ? And the reply of Socrates, to him
who asked whether he should choose a wife, still
remains reasonable, " that, whether ho should choose
one or not, he would repent it. 1 ' TH not the state a
question'? All society i& divided in opinion on the
subject of the state. Nobody IOVOH it ; groat numbers
dislike it, and suffer conscientious HcrupleR to allegi-
ance: and the only defence sot up is the fear of
doing worse in disorganising. Is it otherwise with
the church 1 Or, to put any of the questions which
touch mankind nearest.,- shall the young man aim at
a leading part in law, In polities, in trade 1 It will
not be pretended that a success in either of thane kinds
is quite coincident with what in best and inmont In his
mind. Shall he, then, cutting the stays that hold him
fast to the social state, put out to sea with no guidance
but hie genius 1 There is much to my on both sidea
Kemember the open question between tho present
order of " competition," and the friends of " attractive
and associated labour." The getierotm minds embrace
the proposition of labour shared by all ; it is tho only
honesty; nothing else Is It is from the poor
man's hut alone that strength and virtue come ; and
yet, on the other side, it is that labour impairs
the form, and f breaks the spirit of mtuo, and
<sry uiwummmslv, " W av* no
IV.] MONTAIGNE ; OR, TEE SCEPTIC. . 37^
Culture, how indispensable ! I cannot forgive you
the want of accomplishments \ and yet, culture will
instantly destroy that ehiefest "beauty of spontaneous-
ness. Excellent is culture for a savage ; but once let
him read in the book, and he is no longer able not to
think of Plutarch's heroes. In short, since true forti-
tude of understanding consists*' in not letting what
we know bo embarrassed by what we do not know,"
we ought to secure those advantages which we can
command, and not risk them by clutching after the
airy and unattainable* Gome, no chimeras : Let us
go abroad ; lot us mix in affairs ; let us learn, and
gat, and have, and climb, *' Men are a sort of moving
plantM, and, like trees, receive a great part of their
nourishment from the air- If they keep too much at
home, they pine/* Let us have a robust, manly life ;
let us know what we know, for certain; what we
have, let it be solid, and Hoastmable, and our own, A
world in the liaad is worth two in the bush. Let us
have to do with real men and women, and not with
skipping ghosts.
This, them, i the right ground of the sceptic,
this of consideration, of Holf-containing ; not at all of
miWief \ not at all of universal denying, nor of uni-
vernal doubting, -doubting even that he doubts ; least
of all, of wolfing and profligate jeering at all that is
&tnMa and good, These are no more his moods than
dfo those of religion and philonophy, Ho is the con-
iderer, the prudent, taking m sail, counting stock,
huibmding Ms means, believing thijf a man has too
tJJan that h cn afford to bo his own ;
376 KKPHRSKNTATlVJfl MEN- [n
that we cannot give oufselves too many advantages,
in this unequal conflict, with powers so vast and un-
weariable ranged on one aide, and this little, conceited,
vulnerable popinjay that a man is, bobbing up and
down into every danger, on the other. It is a position
taken up for better defence, as of more safety, and
one that can be maintained \ and it is one of more
opportunity and range ; as, when we build a house,
the rule is, to set it not too high nor too low, under
the wind, but out of the dirt.
The philosophy we want is one of fluxion* and
mobility. The Spartan and Stoic schemes are too
stark and stiff for our occasion, A theory of Saint
John, and of non-resistance, seems, on the other hand,
too thin and aerial We want some coat woven of
elastic steel, stout as the first and limber as the
second. We want a ship in these billows we inhabit.
An angular, dogmatic house would be rent to chips
and splinters in this storm of many Glam6&t& No,
it must be tight, and fit to the form of mm } to live
at all ; as a shell is the architecture of a hound founded
on the sea. The soul of man must be the type of our
scheme, just as the body of man i tho type after
which a dwelling-house IB built Adaptivenosa is the
peculiarity of human nature. We are golden averages,
voiitant stabilities, compensated or periodic errors,
houses founded on the sea. The wisa sceptic wishes
to have a near view of the best gain*, and the chief
players; what is best in the planet; art and nature*
places and eventy, but mainly men, Every thin*; that
is excellent in mankin^* ^ of gra } an WTO of
IV,] MONTAIGNE ; OR, THE SCEPTIC. 377
iron, lips of persuasion, a brain of resources, every one
skilful to play and win, lie will see and judge.
The terms of admission to this spectacle are, that
he have a certain solid and intelligible way of living of
his own; some method of answering the inevitable
needs of human life ; proof that he has played with
skill and success ; that he has evinced the temper,
stoutness, and the range of qualities which, among his
contemporaries and coxmtrymen, entitle him to fellow-
ship and trust. For the secrets of life are not shown
except to sympathy and likeness. Men do not confide
themselves to boys, or coxcombs, or pedants, but to
their poors. Some wise limitation, as the modern
phrase is ; some condition between the extremes, and
having itself a positive quality j some stark and suffi-
cient man, who is not salt or sugar, but sufficiently
rolatdd to the world to do justice to Paris or London,
and, at the same time, a vigorous and original thinker,
whom cities cannot overawe, but who uses them, is
the fit portion to occupy this ground of speculation,
These qualitioB meet in the character of Montaigne.
A IK! yet, since the personal regard which I entertain
for Montaipjiw may be unduly great, 1 will, under the
nhield of this prince of egotists, offer, as an apology
for electing him m the rquusoiitativo of scepticism, a
word or two to explain how my love began and grew
for this admirable gossip.
A tangle odd volume of Cotton's translation of the
remained to me from, my fathers library, when
a boy* It lay long neglected, until, after many years,
whm I was newly escaped from college, I read the
378 UKPKKSKNTATIVK MEN. [ Iv .
book, and procured the remaining volumes, I ro
member the delight and wonder in which I lived with
it. It seemed to mo as if I had myself written the
book, in some former life, so sincerely it spoke to
my thought and experience. Tt happcni'd, when in
Paris, in 1833, that, in the cemetery of Pore lo Chaise,
I came to a tomWof Augusto ColHgnon, who died in
1830, aged sixty-eight years, and who, said the monu-
ment, "lived to do right, and had formed himself to
virtue on the Essays of Montaigne." Some years
later I became acquainted with an accomplished
English poet, John Sterling ; and, in prosecuting my
correspondence, I found that, from a lovo of Mon-
taigne, ho had made a pil^riinji;*:*' to his chateau, still
standing near Castellan, in Porigord, and, after two
hundred and fifty years, had eopiod from the walk of
his library the inscriptions which Montaigne had
written there. That Journal of Mr, Sterling's, published
in the " Westminster lieviow," Mr. 1 InxliM, has reprinted
in the Prolegomena to his edition of the Essays. 1
heard with pleasure that one of tho nrxvly dwrnvtwl
autographs of William Khakspunro was in a copy of
Florio's translation of Mtwtaigno. It h tho only book
which we certainly know to have been in tho poet's
library. And oddly enough, tho duplicate copy of
Mono, which tho Brifcwh Muwoum purchawjti, with a
view of protecting tho Slmk*|xartj autograph (as 1
was informed in tho Museum), tuniml out to have
the autograph^ of Bon Jonaoa In tlm Ity4tmt Leigh
Hunt relates of Lord Byron that Montaigne the
only great writer of past idiom he road with
IV ,] MONTAIGNE; OR, THE SCEPTIC, '379
avowed satisfaction, Other coincidences, not needful
to bo mentioned her, concurred to make this old
Gascon still now and immortal for me.
In 1571, on the death of his father, Montaigne,
then thirty-eight years old, retired from the practice
of law, at Bordeaux, and settled himself on his estate.
Though he had boon a man of pleasure, and some-
times a courtier, his studious habits now grew on
him, and ho I&vod the compass, staidness, and inde-
pendence, of the country gentleman's life. He took
up his economy in good earnest, and made his farms
yield the most Downright and plain-dealing, and
ubhorrmjj; to be deceived or to deceive, he was esteemed
in the country for his sense and probity. In the civil
wars of the League, which converted every house into
a fort, Montaigne kept Ms gates open, and his house
without dofonca All parties freely came and went,
his courage and honour being universally esteemed.
The neighbouring lords and gentry brought jewels
and papers to him for safe-keeping. Gibbon reckons,
in those bigoted times, but two men of liberality in
Fratioi^Honry IV, and Montaigna
Montaigne is the frankest and honestest of all
writers, His French freedom runs into grossness ; but
ho httt anticipated all censure by the bounty of Ms
OWE coiifewitm IB his times books were written to
OIKS BOX only, and almost all wore written in Latin; so
that* in a humorint, a certain nakedness of statement
ws pormitiml, which our manners, of a literature
atMrowod equally to both sexes, do not allow. * But,
though a biblical plainness, coupltul*with a most tin-
380 KEPRESENTATIVE MEN". [rv.
canonical levity, may shut his pages to many sensitive
readers, yet the offence is superficial. He parades it :
he makes the most of it : nobody can think or say
worse of him than he does. He pretends to most of
the vices ; and, if there be any virtue in him, he says
it got in by stealth. There is no man, in his opinion,
who has not deserved hanging five or six times.; and
he pretends no exception in his own behalf. " Five
or six as ridiculous stories," too, he says, "can be told
of me, as of any man living." But, with all this really
superfluous frankness, the opinion of an invincible
probity grows into every reader's mind.
" When I the most strictly and religiously confess
myself, I find that the best virtue I have has in it
some tincture of vice ; and I am afraid that Plato, in
his purest virtue (I, who am as sincere and perfect a
lover of virtue of that stamp as any other whatever),
if he had listened, and laid his ear close to himself,
would have heard some jarring sound of human
mixture ; but faint and remote, and only to be per-
ceived by himself."
Here is an impatience and fastidiousness at colour
or pretence of any kind. He has been in courts so
long as to have conceived a furious disgust at appear-
ances; he will indulge himself with a little cursing
and swearing ; he will talk with sailors and gipsies,
use flash and street ballads : he has stayed in-doors
till he is deadly sick ; he will to the open air, though
it rain bullets. He has seen too much of gentlemen
of the long robe, until he wishes for cannibals ; and
is so nervous, % factitious life, tliat he thinks the
<V.] MONTAIGNE ; OR, THE SCEPTIC. 381
more barbarous man is, the better he is. He likes
his saddle. You may read theology, and grammar,
and metaphysics elsewhere. Whatever you get here,
shall smack of the earth and of real life, sweet, or
smart, or stinging. He makes no hesitation to enter-
tain you with the records of his disease; and his
journey to Italy is quite full of that matter. He took
and kept this position of equilibrium, Over his name
he drew an emblematic pair of scales, and wrote Que
s$ais je under it. As I look at his effigy opposite
the title-page, I seem to hear him say, "You may
play old Poz, if you will ; you may rail and exagger-
ate, I stand here for truth, and will not, for all the
states, and churches, and revenues, and personal re-
putations of Europe, overstate the dry fact as I see
it ; I will rather mumble and prose about what 1
certainly know, my house and barns ; my father, my
wife, and my tenants ; my old lean bald pate ; my
knives and forks ; what moats 1 eat, and what drinks
I prefer ; and a hundred straws just as ridiculous,
than I will write, with a fin crow-quill, a fine
romance). I like gray days, and autumn and winter
weather. I am gray and autumnal myself, and think
an undrew, and old shoes that do not pinch my feet,
awl old friends who do not constrain me, and plain
topics where I do not need to strain myself and pump
my brainy the most suitable. Our condition as men
is riiky and ticklish enough, One cannot be sure of
himself and his fortune an hour, but he may be
wliiakwi off into some pitiable or ridiculous plight.
Why should 1 wpour and play tiie philosopher,
382 BEPBESENTATIVE MEN. [ IV ,
instead of ballasting, the best I can, this dancing
balloon? So, at least, I live within compass, keep
myself ready for action, and can shoot the gulf, at
last, with decency. If there be anything farcical in
such a life, the blame is not mine : let it lie at fate's
and nature's door."
The Essays, thewfore, arc an entertaining soliloquy
on every random topic that comes into his head;
treating everything without ceremcfny, yet with
masculine sonsa There have been man with deeper
insight; but, one would say, never a man with such
abundance of thoughts ; he is never dull, never in-
sincere, and has the geaiua to make the reader care
for all that he caros for.
The sincerity and marrow of the mm roach to
his sentences. 1 know not anywhere tho book that
seems loss written. It is the language of conversa-
tion transferred to a book. Out these words, awtl
they would bleed ; they are vascular and aliva One
has the same pleasure in it that we have in listening
to the necessary speech of man about their work,
when any unusual circumstance gives momentary
importance to the dialogue* For blacksmiths and
teamsters do not trip in their speech ; it is a shower
of bullets. It is Cambridge men who correct them*
selves, and begin again at very half sentence^ and,
moreover, will pun, and refine too much, and swerve
from the matter to the expression. Montoigno talks
with shrewdness^ knows tho world, tincl book*, and
himself, and uses the positive degree ; aover shrieks,
or protoHtR, or praya : no weakm*ft8,<iu> convulsion, EO
iv.] MONTAIGNE ; OR, THE SCEPTIC. 383
superlative : does not wish to jump out of his skin,
or play any antics, or annihilate space or time \ but
is stout and solid ; tastes very moment of the day ;
likes pain, because it makes him feel himself, and
realise things; as we pinch ourselves to know that
we are awake. He keeps the plain ; he rarely mounts
or sinks \ likes to feel solid ground, and the stones
underneath, His writing has no enthusiasms, no
aspiration ; contented, self-respecting, and keeping
the middle of the road. There is but one exception,
in his love for Socrates. In speaking of him, for
once his cheek flushes, and his style rises to passion.
Montaigne died of a quinsy, at the age of sixty, in
1592, Whom he came to die, ho caused the mass to
bo celebrated in Ma chamber. At the age of thirty-
throe, ho had been married. "But," he says, "might
I have had my own will, 1 would not have married
Wisdom herself, if she would have had me ; but 'tis
to much purpose to evade it, the common custom and
two of lifo will have it ao, Most of my actions are
guided by example, not choice/' In the hour of death,
ho g&vo the same weight to custom. Que $$ai$ je I
What do I know!
This book of Montaigne the world has endorsed,
by translating it into all tongues, and printing
M'.vonty five editions of it in lurop : and that, too, a
circulation .somewhat chosen, namely, among courtiers,
soldtorS) princes, mm of the world, and men of wit
and generosity.
Shall wa my that Montaigne has Spoken wisely,
384 EEPKESENTATIVE MEN. [rv,
and gfven the right and permanent expression of the
human mind, on the conduct of life ?
We are natural believers. Truth, or the connec-
tion between cause and effect, alone interests us. We
are persuaded that a thread runs through all things :
all worlds are strung on it, as beads : and men, and
events, and life, come to us, only because of that
thread : they pass and repass, onl^ that we may
know the direction and continuity of that line. A
book or statement which goes to show that there is
no line, but random and chaos, a calamity out of
nothing, a prosperity and no account of it, a hero
born from a fool, a fool from a hero, dispirits us.
Seen or unseen, we believe the tie exists. Talent
makes counterfeit ties; genius finds the real ones.
We hearken to the man of science, because we anti-
cipate the sequence in natural phenomena which he
uncovers. We love whatever affirms, connects, pre-
serves j and dislike what scatters or pulls down. One
man appears whose nature is to all men's eyes con-
serving and constructive; his presence supposes a
well-ordered society, agriculture, trade, large institu-
tions, and empire. If these did not exist, they would
begin to exist through his endeavours. Therefore,
he cheers and comforts mon, who feel all this in him
very readily. The nonconformist and the rebel say
all manner of unanswerable things against the existing
republic, but discover to our sonso no plan of house
or state of their own. Therefore, though the town,
and state, andrway of living, wh^ch our counsellor
nr.] MONTAIGNE; OK, THE SCEPTIC. 38^
contemplated, might be a very modost or musty
prosperity, yet men rightly go for him, and reject the
reformer, BO long as ho comes only with axe and
crowbar.
But though wo are natural conservers and caus-
ationists, and reject a sour, dumpish unbelief, the
sceptical class, which Montaigne represents, have
reason, and every man, at some time, belongs to it,
Every superior mind will pass through this domain
of equilibration,! should rather say, will know how
to avail himaelf of the chocks and balances in nature,
as a natural weapon against the exaggeration and
formalutm of bigots and blockheads,
Scoptiewm is tho attitude assumed by the student
in relation to tho particulars which society adores,
but which ho noes to be reverend only in their tend-
ency and spirit Tho ground occupied by the sceptic
in the vestibule of the temple. Society does not like
to havo any breath of question blown on the existing
order. But tho inlcm^aUon of custom at all points
IK an inevitable atage in tho growth of every superior
mind, and i the evidence of its perception of the
flowing power which remains itself in all change*
Tho superior mind will find itself equally at odds
with tho evils of acmiety, and with tho projects that
are offered to relieve thorn. Tho wise sceptic is a
bad citfotm ; no conservative ho sees the selfishness
of property, and tho drowsiness of institutions, But
neither is ho fit to work with any democratic party
that aver was constituted ; for pattio^ wish vary one
committed, and h8 penetrato tho popular patriotism,
VOL, IV* 2
380 KFJRKRK\TATTVR MBH. [IT.
His politics ore those of the " Soul's Errand * of Sir
Walter Raleigh; or of Kririma, in the THin#ivat,
" There Is nemo who ie worthy of my love or hatred ; "
whilst he sentences law, physic, divinity, commerce,
and custom. He is a reformer ; yet ho is no hotter
xnonxhor of the p1iil:mfhnpio aasociation* It turns
out that ho IH not tlfa chum] MI m of the .operative, the
pauper, the prisoner, the alave It stund* in hia
mind that our life in thia world is not; of quite so
easy interpretation as ohurchcs and school -books
gay. He does not wish to take ground against these
bonovoloncos, to play the part of devil's attorney,
and blasson ovory doubt and antor that darkens the
aim for him, But he says, Tluire are dcnibto,
I moan to nm the occaaion, and eriobrato the
calendar-day of our Saint Mioiml d Monttiigne^ by
counting and describing thwe dcnt'btn or negations.
1 wish to ferret them out of titolr lioltii, and nun them
a little, We must do with them an the polite do
with old rogues, who are *hown up to the jmblic at
the marshal's office. They will now be o fomiid-
abla, when once they havo bcwi idwitiilod arid regis*
toed But 1 mean honetly by thorn, that justice
shall be done to their terror*. I shall not taka
Sunday objeotioim, mill! up on purpose to be put
down* 1 shall take the wowt I em find, whether 1
can diipose of thwn, or they of ma
I do not the weptiuiani of the matorialist
1 know tlm quadruped opinion will not prevail. Tis
of no import an.rr what Ixtte and oi think Th
flrjt dftogerous symptom 1 report i the Idfity of
jr.] MONTAIGNE j OR> THE SCEPTIC. 387
intellect ; as If it woro fatal to earnestness to know
muck Knowledge is the knowing that w can not
know. The dull pray ; the geniuses are light mockers.
How respectable ia earnestness on every platform!
btit intellect kills it. Nay, San Carlo, my subtle and
admirable friend, one of the most penetrating of men,
finds that all. direct iwcension,*even of lofty piety,
leads to this ghastly insight, and sends back the
votary orphafldoL My astonishing San Carlo thought
the lawgivers and samte infected. They found the
ark empty ; saw, and would not tell ; and tried to
choke off their approaching followers, by saying,
"Action, action, my dear fellows, is for you 1" Bad
as was to mo this detection by San Carlo, this frost in
July, thia blow from a bride, there was still a worso>
namely, the cloy or satiety of the saints. In the
mount of vision, ere they have yet risen from their
know, they say, ** We discover that this our homage
and beatitude in partial and deformed ; we must fly
for relief to the wwpectecl and reviled Intellect, to the
Understanding, the Mephfatopheles, to the gymnastics
of Went 11
Tills ii hobgoblin the flnrt; and, though it has
been the subject of much elegy, in our nineteenth
century* from Byron, Goethe, and other poets of leas
fame* imt to mention mmj distinguished private
I confesi it is not very affecting to my
tiou; for it to concern the shattering
of baby houses and m>rb>ry shops. What flutters
the church of Reoa% or of England, <y of Geneva, or
of Boston, may yi bo very far from touching any
388 REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [iv
principle of faith.. I think that the intellect and
moral sentiment are unanimous; and that, though
philosophy extirpates "bugbears, yet it supplies the
natural checks of vice, and polarity to the soul I
think that the wiser a man is, the more stupendous
he finds the natural and moral economy, and lifts
himself to a more aboolute reliance.
There is the power of moods, each setting at
naught all but its own tissue of factS and beliefs.
There is the power of complexions, obviously modi-
fying the dispositions and sentiments. The beliefs
and unbeliefs appear to be structural ; and, as soon
as each man attains the poise and vivacity which
allow the whole machinery to play, he will not need
extreme examples, but will rapidly alternate all
opinions in his own life. Our life is March weather,
savage and serene in one hour. We go forth austere,
dedicated, believing in the iron links of Destiny, and
will not turn on our heel to save our life ; but a
book, or a bust, or only the sound of a name, shoots
a spark through the nerves, and we suddenly believe
in will : my finger-ring shall be the seal of Solomon :
fate is for imbeciles : all is possible to the resolved
mind. Presently, a new experience gives a new turn
to our thoughts : common sense resumes its tyranny :
we say, " "Well, the army, after all, is the gate to fame,
manners, and poetry : and, look you, on the whole,
selfishness plants best, prunes best, makes the best
commerce, and the best citizen." Are the opinions
of a man on right and wrong, on fate and causation,
at the mercy of a broken sleep or fin indigestion 1 Is
IV.] MONTAWNK ; OK, THE SCEPTIC. 388
his belief in God and Duty no deeper than a stomach
evidence 1 And what ^uuranly for the permanence
of his opinions? I like not the French celerity, -a
now church and state once a week This is the
second notation ; an<l I shall lot it pass for what it
will AH far an it iwsarte rotation of states of mind,
I HUppoHO it Ite own remedy, namely, in the
record of larger periods. What m the moan of many
state?; of afl the states! Does the general voice of
affirm any principle, or is no community of senti-
ment discoverable in distant times and places 1 And
whm it shows the power of uolf-irifcorost, I accept that
m part of the divine law, and must reconcile it with
aspiration tho btwt 1 can*
The word, Fate, or Dwtiny, oxproBsow tho sense of
nianluM'L in all agcMv-that the laws of the world do
not ttlwajH Ixtfricm], but often hurt and crash na
Fata, in the Mlutpct of Kindt. or nature grows over us
like gruHH. Wo piilnt Time with a scythe ; Love and
Fortumt, blind ; and Dewtiny, deaf. We have too
littlci powar of nwitiinf.i) againtit this ferocity which
oh&mgw tw tip. What front can wo mak against tiinese
utuwoidablcy vktorkitw, nmloficont forces I What can 1
di> ii^aitwt tlit) influonce of Kaco, in my hiatoryf What
fan 1 do agaiiiifc homlitaiy and constitutional habits,
agahwt *nrt)fuli lympli, impiticnn^ against climate,
itgaiiwi bjirbariftm, In my acnuitryl 1 can reason down
or dtiity avmythm# t oxoopt this pcrpf-t-ual Belly ; feed
h iititi will, mid ! cmitnot make him rospoctablf,.
But tlw mtilS rwitonc t which the
390 REPRESENTATIVE MM". [rv.
impulse finds, and one including all others, is in the
doctrine of the Illusionists. There is a painful rumour
in circulation, that we have been practised upon in all
the principal performances of life, and free agency is
the emptiest name. We have been sopped and drugged
with the air, with food, with woman, with children,
with sciences, with Events, which learvo us exactly
where they found us. The mathematics, 'tis com-
plained, leave the mind where they find it : so do all
sciences ; and so do all events and actions, I find a
man who has passed through all the sciences, the churl
he was j and through all the offices, learned, civil, and
social, can detect the child. We are not the less
necessitated to dedicate life to them. In fact, we may
come to accept it as the fixed rule and theory of our
state of education, that God is a substance, and his
method is illusion, The eastern sages owned the
goddess Yoganidra, the great illusory energy of Vishnu,
by whom, as utter ignorance, the whole world is
beguiled.
Or, shall I state it thus ? The astonishment of life
is the absence of any appearance of reconciliation
between the theory and practice of life. Reason, the
prized reality, the Law, is apprehended, now and
then, for a serene and profound moment, amidst the
hubbub of cares and works which have no direct
bearing on it ;- is then lost, for months or years, and
again found, for an interval, to be lost again. If we
compute it in time, we may, in fifty years, have half
a dozen reasonable hours. But what are these cares
and works the better? , A method in the world we do
IV. J MONTAIUNK; OU, THK SOKl'Tia 391
not S06y but this parallelism of great and little, which
never react on each other, nor discover the smallest
tendency to converge. Kxporionws, fortunes, govern-
ings, readings, writings are nothing to the purpose;
as whon a man comes Into the room, it does not appear
whether he has been fed on yams or buffalo, he has
contrived to pt so much bone and fibre as he wants,
out of rice or out of snow. So vast is the dispropor-
tion "between* tho sky of law and the pismire of per-
formatted under it, that, whether lie is a man of worth
or a ofc is not o great a matter as we aay. Shall 1
add, its one juggle of this enchantment, the stunning
non-mtttmMwo law which makes co-operation impos-
sible I Tim young spirit pants to enter society. But
nil the way* of culture and greatness load to solitary
irnpriawmtrnt. Tie han toon often balked, He did not
expect Kympufhy with hut thought from the village,
hut lie went with it to the chosen and intelligent, and
found im t*nt*rtumment for it, hut mere misappro-
hmmiun, dMtutte, and scoffing* Men are strangely
miMtimed ami imHuppliwl ; and the excellence of each
ii an inflamed mdrndualtam which separates him
mow,
Thrre IWPO thonQ, and imm than these diseases of
thought^ whifih our ordinary teachers do not attempt
to remove. Now shall we, because a good nature m
cslifitw us to virtue*** lidti, ay f Thuro arc no douhta,
and li* for tltts right I 1 lif o to be lod in a hra?o or
in a I'n^anlU manner t and Ii not the Mtwfactioaof
tht> doulitM to all manlinewjj Is tho name of
virtue to bo a l&rrfur to t!w| which i virtue ? Can
392 EBPRESENTAT1VB MM. [nr,
you not believe that a man of earnest and burly habit
may find small good in tea, essays, and catechism, and
want a rougher instruction, want men, labour, trade,
farming, war, hunger, plenty, love, hatred, doubt, and
terror, to make things plain to him ; and has he not
a right to insist on being convinced in his own way ?
When he is convinced, ho will bo wortk the pains.
Belief consists in accepting the affirmations of the
soul; unbelief in denying them. Some minds are
incapable of scepticism. The doubts they profess to
entertain are rather a civility or accommodation to the
common discourse of their company. They may well
give themselves leave to speculate, for they are seciire
of a return. Once admitted to the heaven of thought,
they see no relapse into night, but infinite invitation
on the other side. Heaven is within heaven, and sky
over sky, and they are encompassed with divinities.
Others there are, to whom the heavon is brass, and it
shuts down to the surface of the earth. It is a ques-
tion of temperament, or of more or less immersion in
nature. The last class must needs have a reflex or
parasite faith ; not a sight of realities, but an instinc-
tive reliance on the seers and believers of realities*
The manners and thoughts of believers astonish thorn,
and convince them that these have seen something
which is hid from themselves. But their sensual
habit would fix the believer to his last position, whilst
he as inevitably advances ; and presently tho unbe-
liever, for love of belief, burn the believer.
Great believers axe always reckoned infidels, im-
practicable, fantastic, atheistic, and feally men of no
IY .j MONTAIGNE ; OK, THM BCBPTIO. 393
account, Tito spiritualist finds himself driven to
express his faith by a series of scepticisms. Charitable
souls come with thHr pwjvd-s, and ask his co-operation.
How can ho hiisitato I It is the rule of mere comity
and courtesy to agree whew you can, and to turn your
sentence with uomothing auspicious, and not freezing
and ainister, But ho is forced to say, " 0, those things
will ho an tlwy muni 1m: what can you dol These
particular grittft?* and crime/a ar*j the foliage and fruit
of ttiicsh trtsoH an wa HOC growing* It IB vain to com-
plain of tlw tof or the berry ; cut, it off; it will bear
another jut iw bad. You niiwt begin your euro lower
down/" Tim generosities of tho day prove an intract-
able element for him. Tho people's qwwtiona are not
life ; thoir inothock art) not hw ; and, against all the
dicUtoH of gnc'wl uat'Ure, ho w driven to ay ho has no
pleaur in tltem,
Even the d<*ctrhu Amr to tho hojw of man t of tho
divine IVfudfin'*'. wid of tlw iiuuinrialiu of thi soul,
IUH wi;*hbiwv ratinot put tlw statoiminfe BO that ha
Chilli alllrin it Hut Iw i\em out of more faith, and
not lew. Ito Uu out tf ht)Uity. He had rather
ttmd rhiifgw! with this imbecility of uri^pticiHiu, than
with tttitnstJt, I beliav*^ hit in thu moral doiign
of tliu !uii?iirfi ; it i?xlt lumpitably for tho weal of
oul ; but your dugini* to im ciaricatureK : why
should 1 titak^-lwlievti thiutif Will any Hay, thin IN
cold iiiict iufiddl Th wiw^ and iajiuuiiuHm will
not my a Tlo^y will imiili in hin kr sighted good-
will, that etui ulmtuUm to th iwtvewary all the ground
af tradition iiiid (mnumou belief, without toning a jot
394 KErHESENTATI?B MEN. [rv,
of strength. It sees to the end of all transgression,
George Fox saw "that there was an ocean of darkness
and death ; but withal, an infinite ocean of light and
love which flowed over that of darkness,"
The final solution in which scepticism is lost, is in
the moral sentiment, which never forfeits its supre-
macy. All moods may bo safely tried^ and their weight
allowed to all objections: the moral sentiment as
easily outweighs thorn all, as any o/*a This is the
drop which balances the sea, I play with the miscel-
lany of facts, and take those superficial views which
we call scepticism; but I know that they will pre-
sently appear to me in that order which makes scepti-
cism impossible. A man of thought must fool the
thought that is parent of the universe ; that the
masses of nature do undulate and flow,
This faith avails to the whole omtT^eiiey of life
and objects. The world is saturated with doity and
with law. He is content with just and unjust* with
sots and fools, with the triumph of folly and fraud,
He can behold with serenity the yawning gulf be-
tween the ambition of man and his power of perform-
ance, between the demand arid supply of power,
which makes tho tragedy of all souls,
Charles Fourier announced that "tho attractions
of man are proportioned to his destinies ; w in other
words, that every desire predicts its own Batisfao*
tion. Yet, all experience exhibits the reverse of this j
the incompotoncy of power is the universal grief of
young and ardent minds, They accuse the divine
Providence of ascertain poftumtmy** It liw shown the
JY,) MOOTAIONB ; QB THIS BOEFHO. 895
heavoB and earth to every child, and filled him with
a doairo for the whole; a dofiiro raging, infinite j a
hunger, as of paco to bo filled with planets ; a cry of
famine, as of devils for souls. Then for the satisfac-
tion, to each man is administered a single drop, a
bead of dew of vital power, per (toy, a cup as large
as Bpaoo, and oi^e drop of the w^ter of life in it.
Bach man woke in the morning with an appetite
that could eat the solar system like a cake ; a spirit
for action and ptwwion without bounds ; he could lay
his Iminl on tho morning star j he could try conclu-
sions with gravitation or chemistry ; but, on tho first
motion to prove his strength," -hands, feet, senses, gave
way, and would not servo him, He was an emperor
dowrtod by hi utatos, and loft to whistle by himself,
or thrust into a mob of ttmpororn, all whistling : and
still tho (draft* tmng* "The attractions are propor-
tioned to tho doatiniou," In every house, in the
heart of eaoh maidon and of oach boy, in tho soul of
tho soaring naiiit, thw vhmm w found, -botwcon
the largt proiniBO of ideal power and the shabby
I'Xpt'ni'ncc.
Tho cixpamivi naturo of truth comoB to our sue*
cour> oltuitto, wot to bo gutroundod* Man holps him-
itilt by krger jvuc-nitUiiioii^ Tho loiwon of life is
practically to gtmoraliae; to beliovo what the years
and tho centiirini lay against tli houre ; to resist the
wiirpiitliM of pitrtlcukri j to pwnetrato to their
oathoiic 'fliinp to nay one thing, and
y tho Thu apptmiww ii immoral; the
roiult ii moral %Ittgi to tonS downward, to
396 KKPEESENTATIVK MEN. [iv.
justify despondency, to promote rogues, to defeat the
just ; and, by knaves, as "by martyrs, the just cause is
carried forward. Although knaves win in every
political struggle, although society seems to be de-
livered over from the hands of one set of criminals
into the hands of another set of criminals, as fast as
the government is r changed, and tho^arch of civilisa-
tion is a train of felonies, yet, general ends are some-
how answered We soe, now, events forced on,
which seem to retard or retrograde the civility of
ages. But the world-spirit ia a good swimmor, and
storms and waves cannot drown him. Ho snaps his
finger at laws: and so, throughout history, heaven
seems to affect low and poor moans* Through the
years and the centuries, through evil agents, through
toys and atoms, a great and beneficent tendency
irresistibly streams,
Let a man learn to look for the prnnamwl; in the
mutable and fleeting ; let him learn to bear the dis-
appearance of things he was wont to reverence, with-
out losing his reverence; let him learn that ho is
here, not to work, but to be worked upon ; and that,
though abyss open under abyss, and opinion displace
opinion, all are at last contained in the Eternal
" If my bark sink, 'tis to Another wu**
V.
; OR, THE POET.
GREAT mm are more distinguished by range and ex-
tent than by origin jilif.y. If we require the origin-
ality which consists in weaving, like a spider, their
wot* from their own "bowels; in finding clay, and
making brick*, and building the house ; no great mm
are original. Nor does valuable originality consist in
unlikcnoua to other man. The hero is in the press of
knightu, and the thick of events; and, seeing what
men want* and sharing their desire, he adds the need-
ful length of 5ght and of arm, to come at the desired
point T lift grimiest genius w the moat indebted man.
A poet is no rattlebrain, saying what comes upper-
and, biauw he everything, saying, at last,
;;<mn'thm"; good ; but a heart in unison with his time
and country. Thar is nothing whimsical and fan-
tastic in hi# production, but sweet and sad earnest,
freighted with the weightiest convictions wad pointed
with the most dotorminod alia which any maa or class
of in lits liintii,
The Genius of^our life is jtsalous oi individuals, and
ys REPRESENTATIVE MEN. [v.
will nSt have any individual great, except through the
general. There is no choice to genius. A great man
does not wake up on some fine morning, and say, " I
am full of life, I will go to sea, and find an Antarctic
continent; to-day I will square the circle; I will
ransack botany, and find a new food for man : I
have a new architecture in my mind^ I foresee a new
mechanic power:" no, hut ho finds himself in the
river of the thoughts and events, forced onward by
the ideas and necessities of his contemporaries. He
stands whore all the eyes of men look one way, and
their hands all point in the direction in which he
should go. The church has reared him amidst rites
and pomps, and he carries out the advico which her
music gave him, and builds a cathedral needed by her
chants and processions. He finds a war raging : it
educates him, by trumpet^ in barracks, and ho betters
the instruction* He finds two counties groping to
bring coal, or flour, or fish, from the place of produc-
tion to the place of consumption, and ho hits OB a
railroad. Every master has found his materials col-
lected, and his power lay in his sympathy with hie
people, and in his love of the materials ho wrought
in. What an economy of power 1 and what a com-
pensation for the shortness of life ! All is done to his
hand. The world has brought Mm thus far on his
way. The human mce lias gone out before him, sunk
the hills, filled the hollows, and bridged the riven,
Men, nations, poets, artisans, women, all have worked
for him, and he enters into their labours, Ohocwo
a$y other thin& r out of the Uno of ' tendency, out of
T ,] SRAKSPBAftfi J OB, TOT POET, 399
the national fooling and history, and ha woulcf have
all to do for himself : his powers would be expended
in the fiwt pn-^rafiom;. Great genial power, one
would almost iay consists in not being original at
all; in being altogether receptive; in letting the
world do all, and suffering the spirit of the hour to
unobstructed through the mind,
Slufcp^Ws youth foil in a time when the English
people wore iin(vHun:iln for dramatic entertainments.
The court took offence easily at political allusions,
and attempted to flttpproHs them. The Puritans, a
growing and energetic party, and the religious among
tha Anglican church, would suppress thorn. But
the pople wanted thorn, Inn -yards, homes without
roofn, and "i!i'iii}mran i uur enclosures at country fairs,
ware the nmdy theatres of strolling players. The
people had this new joy \ and, as we could not
hopo to fmpprom iiwwpupt'r now, no, not by the
party,-""'ttdUiQr then could king, prelate, or
puritan, akmo or united, suppress an organ, which
wtt ballad* flpic, ncw.;pap(*r, oaueu% loeture, puach,
and library f at the time* Probably kiug^ prolate^
ami puritan* nil found thsir own account in it It
had becomes by til a national interoBti by w
roiwpitmoiw, o that ftotno great scholar would
liavo ttiowglit of trettting it in an English history,
but not a whit lomi roiiHidontblc, because it was cheap,
Mid f no aoctmnt^ Uko a bakor's shop. The best
proof of it* vitality I the erowd of writers which
broke into tills field; Kyd, Marlow,
Hey-
400 REPRESENTATIVE MEN, [v,
wood, r Middleton, Peele, Ford, Massin^er, Beaumont
and Fletcher.
The secure possession, by the stage, of the public
mind, is of the first importance to the poet who works
for it. He loses no time in idle experiments. Here
is audience and expectation prepared. In the case of
Shakspearo there is much more. At the titno when
he left Stratford, and went up to 'London, a great
body of stago-playa, of all dates antU writers, existed
in manuscript, and wore in turn produced on the
boards. Here is the Tab of Troy, which the audience
will boar hearing Homo part of, every week ; the Death
of Julius Oassar, and other HtorioH out of Plutarch,
which they never tiro of ; a shelf full of Kngliah his-
tory, from the chronicles of Brut and Arthur, down
to the royal Henries, which mem hoar eagerly ; and a
string of doleful IrcijjodioK, merry Italian talcs, and
Spanish voyages, which all the London prentices
know. All the mass has boon treated^ with more or
loss 8kill s by every pkywri^ht, and this promptw has
the soiled and tattered mumiHmptH. It is new no
longer possible to say who wrote thorn first They
have boon the property of the Theatre BO long, and
so many rising geniuses have enlarged or altered thorn,
inserting a speech, or a whole scone, or adding a song,
that no man can any longer claim copyright In thin
work of numbers. Happily, no man wishea to. They
arc not yet desired in that way, Wo havo few ruodors,
many spectators and hoarors, They had boat lie whore
they ara.
e,*!! common with his fomratlcs, Ofttoomod
T .] MIAKBPKARRJ OB, THIS POBT, 401
the of old plays waste stock, in which any expert*
maul could bo freely tried Had the pmtigB which
hedges about ft modem tragedy existed, nothing could
have botm clono, Tho rude warm blood of the living
England circulated in the play, as in street-ballads,
and gave body which ha wanted to his airy and
majestic fancy, ^ Thtt poet needs $ ground in popular
tradition on which he may work, and which, again,
may restrain M art within the due tomparanee, It
holds him to the pooplo, supplies a foundation for his
edifice* ; ami, in furnishing so much work done to his
hand, lea? him at leisure, and in full strength for
tho attdttnltii*! of his htia^in;iti<>n. In short, the poot
to Ills lifguiiii what ftoulpture owed to the temple
St:ttl|)lnr<* in Kgypt f arid in Greaee grew lap in aub-
ordination to Ereliitectorci, It was the ornament of
the temple walls at fiwfc t a rado relief carved on pedi-
thft tho nsliwf became bolder, and a head or
arm ww pmjiuttnl fnm tlia wall, the groupi being
ttitl with wfwimc6 to the building, which
m ft f ftiKtti to lioltl tho figures ; and when,
at Iwt, the freedom of style and treatment
wan iw4iail tlm jirtivailing gimius of arohitecturd still
tmforetui a t*-rtiiiii calmnemi and oontinenci in the
A^ an tttft WM begun for itself,
and with rafnnti to the tewplo or palace, the
art to cloalim) : freak, 0xtravagoneo and exhibi
tion, took tli pltuso of tho old f4*jn|Hranct. This
l>tltttciiwhftl f wlilrli tho sculptor fatmcl in arehJteo-
tiiwii tlia [Htriknui irritability of poetic talent found
In Itii itwttitfttktiiA Htmtttfttto umtorisls to which the
vot* tv f 2 x>
402 KEPEESENTATITK MEN, [v,
people were already wonted, and which had a certain
excellence which no single genius, however extraordi-
nary, could hope to create.
In point of fact, It appears that Shakspoare did
owe debts in all directions, and was able to use what-
ever ho found; and the amount of indebtedness may
bo inferred from JJalono's laborious Computations in
regard to the First, Second, and Third parts of Henry
VI, in which, "out of 6043 linos, 17 W were written
by some author procoding Shakespeare,; 2373 by him,
on the foundation laid by his predecessors; and 1899
wore entirely his own," And the proceeding investi-
gation hardly leaves a single drama ol his absolute
invention, Malono's sentence is an important piece
of external history. In Henry VII L, I think I BOO
plainly the cropping out of the original rock on which
hie own finer stratum was laid. Tho first play was
written by a superior, thoughtful man, with a vicious
oar. I can mark his linos, and know well their
cadence. Soe Wolsoy's soliloquy, and the following
scone with Cromwell, whore, - instead of the metre
of Shakspeare, whoso aocrot in, that the thought
constructs the tune, so that reading for the sense will
beet bring out the rhythm, here the lines are con-
structed on a given time, and the verso has oven a
trace of pulpit eloquence. But the play contains,
through all its length, unmistakable traits of Bhtik-
spoaro's hand, and some pauwgw, an the account of
the coronation, are like autograph*. What in odd, the
compliment to Queen Blkabefeh i in the bad rhythm.
Shakspearts 1snow that tradition supplies a ixjtter
on, THE POBT, 403
fable than any invention con. If ho lost any credit
of design, ho autrmrntei] hl reftotireea; and, at that
day, our potnkwt demand for originality was not so
much preitfCKi There wan no literature for the million,
The univoiml reading, the cheap press, were unknown.
A groat poot, who appears in illiterate times, absorbs
into hi flphora^ill thn light which la anywhere radiat-
ing. Every lntfilktaal jowcl, every flower of senti-
ment, it i hiP finis offlco to bring to MB people ; and
he eomtw to valuta hi** memory itqtmlly with Ms in*
vontion* Ho i tliowforo little aolioitoiia whence his
thoughts havo l>oon derived ; whether through trans-
lation, whothur tlimngh tradition, whether by travel
in clintant wnintrie t whether by mapiration; from
whatever notims tiu^y atn equally welcome to his
utieritioftl autlimiec*. Nay, ho borrows ?ory near homa
Other mon nay wist* things iw well m he ; only tiaey
nay a g<>d twy foolish thingn, and do not know
when tlt<7 lmvi pkn wiwsly. He knows the sparkl
of tho tru Ntrm<s nnd jnite It in high place, wherever
lift iintl* it Hurh w tho happy |Kition of Homer,
prhap; f <'lmc,or f of Hamli They fait that all wit
wiw thwr wii, Ami they wo librarians and hiatorio-
gmpliww! ot well UN [toof*. Each romancer was heir
antl lr^nr?^r <f all the hundred of the world,
" *TMm* aiwl Ftikip 1 lino
Ami lh tolw *>f Tmy Uvin."
Tho litfiwtw- of (Jhftueor coiwimuuntB in all our
mrly HUtratwre ; and, ttww TOeantly, not only Pope and
Drydon Itavfi IMICIW }H k .holdou tu him, but, m the whole
0f Kngl!h%ritew, a unat'ktiow lodged debt
404 BBERBSKHTATIYE MEN. fv.
is easily traced One is charmed with th opulence
which, feeds so many pensioners. But Chaucer is a
huge borrower. Chaucer, it seems, drew continually,
through Lydgate and Caxton, from Guido di Colonna,
whose Latin romance of the Trojan war was in turn
a compilation from Dares Phrygius, Ovid, and Statins.
Then Petrarch, Boccaccio, and the IJro vandal poets,
are his henefactors : the Eomaunt of tho Rose is only
judicious translation from William of I&rris and John
of Meun: Troilus and Creseicle, from Lollius of
UrMno ; The Cock and tho Fox, from tho Lm of
Marie: The House of Fame, from tho French or
Italian : and poor G-ower ho uses as if ha were only a
brick-kiln or stone-quarry, out of which to build his
house. He steals by this apology, that what he
takes has no worth where h finds it, and the greatest
where he leaves it. It has come to b practically a
sort of rule in literature, that a man, having once
shown himself capable of original writing, is entitled
thenceforth to steal from the writings of others at
discretion. Thought is the property of him who can
entertain it ; and of him who can adequately place it
A. certain awkwardness marks the use of borrowed
thoughts ; but, as soon as we have learned what to
do with them, they become our own,
Thus, all originality is relative. Every thinker is
retrospective. The learned member of the legislature,
at Westminster, or at WashingtoB, and votes
for thousanda Show us the constituency, and the
now invisible channels by which the senator ia made
aware of their fl wishes* the arowc^of practical and
T ,] KirAKSI'KAUB; OK, THE POKt. 4U6\.
liimxviii;; nwn, who by correspondence or COXIVUJL nation,
aw feeding him with evidence, anecdotes, and esti-
mates, and It will bereave his fine attitude and
resistance of Komrthin^ of their imprcssivnioRs. As
Sir Robert Pool and Mr. Webster vote, so Locke and
Rounseau think for thoiwand) and so there were
fountains all abound Homer, MCJJW, Saadi, or Milton,
from which they drew; friends, lovers, books,
tradition*, pr^vtu'liv- -all perished, which if seen,
would go to reduce the wander* Did the bard speak
with authority 1 Bid ho feel himself overmatched by
any companion ! The appeal In to the consciousness
of the writer. It there at last in his breast a Delphi
whereof to k coiuwrning any thought or thing,
whether it ho verily so, yea or nayl and to have
and to roly cm that 1 All the debts which
man could contract to other wit would never
disturb Mn of originality: for the
ittiiiwfcwtiwiw iif bw)k% aiwl of othar mind% aro a
whiff of to that mo*t private reality with which
he hita eottvtirHod.
It in to mil thtt what is IwBt writ^n or done
by gniti% in tin) world, wiws no mau'a work, but oaiac
by wido klcwir s when a thouand wrought like
01% ilmiiiig thu Iai|niim Our English Bible is
ft wondorfui jH*rimt*n of the itrength and music of
the EiigHili kngiwp* But it WM not mad by one
mti| or it imn Umej but oonturios md ehuwhw
brought it to ptrftitttwii.* Tlmm tievw WM a time
whoii tlierti ww not translation tiisMug, The
I4tegy f aitiiiiroA for iti afid pathos, ii an
406 BEPKESMTATIVB MM. [v.
anthology of the piety of ages and nations, a trans-
lation of the prayers and forms of the Catholic
church, these collected, too, in long periods, from
the prayers and meditations of every saint and sacred
writer all over the world, Grotius makes the like
remark in respect to the Lord's Prayer, that the
single clauses of whiph it is composed yore already in
use, in the time of Christ, in the rabbinical forms.
He picked out the grains of gold. *Tho nervous
language of the Common Law, the impressive forms
of our courts, and the precision and substantial truth
of the legal distinctions, axe the contribution of all
the sharp-sighted, strong-mind tul men who have lived
in the countries where these laws govarn. The
translation of Plutarch gets its excellence by being
translation on translation. There never was a time
when there was nona All the truly idiomatic and
national phrases are kept, and all others sumwsivoly
picked out, and thrown away. Something like the
same process had gone on, long before, with the
originals of these books. The world takes liberties
with world-books, Voclas, -fflsop's "Fables, Pilpay,
Arabian Nights, Qiel, Iliad, Bobin H<xxl Seottfeh
Minstrelsy, are not the work of single mm, In the
composition of such worka, the time thinks, tho
market thinks, the mason, tho carpeni w, tine merchant,
the farmer, the fop, all think for ua Every book
supplies its time with one good word ; every muni-
cipal law, every trade, every folly of the day and the
generic catholic genius who is not afraid or whtunod
to owe his orig&alifcy to the origiitdity of all*
r ,j 8HAK8PRAUK ; Ott, THE FO'ET. 407
with tho next age an tho recorder and embodiment of
his own,
We have to thatik the researches of antiquaries,
and tlw Sh;>K>|n*;nv Bodotj, for ascertaining tho
top of tho Kttglwh drama, from tho Mysteries cele-
brated m churchw aitd by churchmen* and the final
dotafthimmt frqm tho church, aiyl the completion of
secular plays from Pcrrox and Porrox, and Gammer
Qurt0n*8 Nocflltt, down to tho poHBewion of the stage
by tho vary plmw which Kha-lcspeatv, altered, r
modiilled, il fiiiatly made his own. Mated with
Mid pifjutid by tho growing interest of the
problem, thoy have lft no book-fttull ttnsearched, no
in a garrot tnu^H'ttttdy no file of old yellow
account* to dc^'oiiiptmc^ in damp and woi*ms f so keen
wn tho hopo to duwovop whether the boy Sluikflpoaro
poachiitl or not, whothor he hold horo at tho theatre
door, whtithfir Im kopt school, and why ho loft m Ms
will only hi* aectm<14>cflt bod to Ann Uitthftway k Ms
wifo.
Thfiro Is ictniftwliat touching in A madness with
which tho uge itiwoltociins tho object on
whkh all tmntlliw nh!m*, saitl tdl oyen aw tuniod \ the
tr0 with whfah it evry trlflo touching
Kliml!ilt $ iiiitl King Jat f and the
LfflwtwWj lltirldgtwi tiiwl Buckliighaitts ; and lets
withottt a vttluable the founder of
djiuwty, which will ^n Tudor
to Ixs r^nu^ubi^ri^l, tin; witt who eariiw fte
S<m r4<;i$ in Win by tht Iiispimtioti which feeds Mm,
and 011 tho foremost pople of tlie
408 KEPRBSENTATIVE MM. [Y.
world are now for some ages to be nourished, and
minds to receive this and not another bias, A popular
player, nobody suspected he was the poet of the
human race; and the secret was kept as faithfully
from poets and intellectual men, as from courtiers and
frivolous people. Bacon, who took the inventory of
the human understanding for Ma tiipea, never men-
tioned his name. Ben Jonson, though we have
strained 'his few words of regard and panegyric,, had
no suspicion of the elastic fame whose first vibrations
. he was attempting. Ho no doubt thought the praise
he has conceded to him gononws, and esteemed him-
self, out of all question, the better poot of the two,
If it need wit to know wit, according to the pro-
verb, Shakspearo's time should be capable of recog-
nising it. Sir Henry Wotton was bom four yoars
after Shakspeaxe, and diod twenty-three years after
him; and I find, among his corrospomlenta and
acquaintances, the following persons : Theodore Beza,
Isaac Oaaaubon, Sir Philip Sidney, Earl of Ewcix,
Lord Bacon, Sir Walter Raleigh, John Milton, Sir
Henry Vane, Isaac Walton, Dr, Dorm, Abraham
Oowley, Bellarmme, Charles Cotton, John Pym>
John Hales, Kepler, Viota, Alborious Qentilis, Paul
Sarpi, Arminius \ with all of whom token
of his having communicated, without enumerating
many others, whom doubtless he flaiv, Fvh;ilcs(wnrc,
Spenser, Jonaon, Beaumont, Muswin^or, two Herbaria,
Marlow, Chapman, and the rest Since the constella-
tion of great men who appeared in Greece in the time
of Pericles, there was never my ifth society | yet
V,] SHAKSJ'KAUK; OB, THB POKT. 408
their genius failed thorn to find out the boat head in
the univenjo, Our poet' mask wa Impenetrable,
You cannot noo tlw mountain near* It took a conttiry
to tnftk it KUHpi'd,t*d ; ami not until two centuries
had pawed* aftwr his death, did any criticism which
wo think tdbcjtmto bngin to appear. It was not pos-
sible to write fyu hktory of Shajfspoaw till now; for
be in tiha father of (toman Htorttare : it waa on the
iutroduoticm tf Sluk;|'aiv Ink) Clemmn, bj^Lossing,
and ilm immhtim of 1 wtffka by Widand and
Sohlc^ol that the rapid Imnrt of Qontuui literature
was mout intimately conm^tod. It was not until tib,
nmottionih century, whom) Rpeoulatlve genius is a sort
of living If aroint, that tlw twgix'ly of Hamlet could
find wieh \u*inlnin;r rttttlera NoW| literature, philo-
Nuphy, fttt thoughtf aw KhakH|nariswI His mmd
is the horixmi beyond which, at prewent^ we do not
m\ Our ww clueat4nl to itniwe by MB rhythm*
(3tlirilg nti Clotitliti t> the only critics who have
t*jqnwtl our <fttmvietionn with any odequAte fidelity :
but tlwiro ii in all cmlti voted itl a nilent appitwiiir
tiou of hi #u]Hri*tivti (mwor and beauty, which, like
Ohrwtiaiiifcy, tpnililkw tlwi |rioci
Tht$ Shakpnr Scity have inquirod m all
(Im'ftinii,.. swlwrtlietl the facts, offered money
for any wfWm:itiw thiit will kail to proof; and with
Important illuitration of
ih hiitc'iij of tho Knglbh to whieh 1 have
juivartfttl, tly Uw touolung the
pmpi'*1y, iwwl In to property, of the
poet It from yiyr to^ew^ he owl a
410 REPRRSKNTATIVK MM, fr,
larger sfiare in the Blaokfriarn 1 Thoatro ; Its wardrobe
and other appurtenances wercs his: that ho knight
an estate in his native village, with Mi earnings, m
writer and shareholder; that ha lived in the best
house in Stratford; wa intrusted by his m>t;'.hbniu'H
with their commissions iu London, as of borrowing
money, and the 3ike; 4 that ho WIIH a vpritable farmer.
About the timo when ho wan writing Maoboth, ho
sues Philip Rogers, in the borough ctmfi of Stratford,
for thirty-five shillings, ton ponce, for mm delivered
to him at different times ; and, in all n^poote, appears
as a good husband, with no reputation for eccentricity
or oxeesa He was a good-natured ttort of man,
an actor and shareholder in the thfttttr\ not in any
striking manner tliHtin^uwhed from othor aotorn and
nianagerii 1 admit the impwianw f thk infonna-
tion. It was well worth the paiiw that hava boon
taken to procure it
But whatever scraps of information ^wrwnn^ his
condition these rtmourehon may havo wmml^ tlwiy mn
shed no light upon that infinite invoutioti wftiali ii
the concealed magnet of hw att-ruc;ttou for wts Wo
are very oluray writers of hfctory. We tell tho
chronicle of parotitagO) birili lirfhjl.t'\
school-mates, earning of money, rtitrrlig^ p
of booki celebrity, death j and when w*
to m and of this goaaip, no my of tvlattou
between it and fcho gtwMojw-horti j mul it an if,
hacl we dipped at random into tlie Ifwlum Plut*rt?fi
and read any other life there, it would !? o tlti
poems w wall ft w tho of to
Vj SHAKrtPBAttB ; OK, TH TOUT. 411
like tho rainbow daughter of Wonder, from the in
visible, to abolish thcs post, and rofuwe all history.
Mtibfie, \Yur1nn fniu Dyw, and Collier* have wasted
their il The hnml thi*atro Oovont Garden, Drary
Lane, the Pitrk, and Trmwmt, have vainly assisted.
(iiirricsk) Ramble, Koan, and Mac-ready,
tlii^ir Jiv to tliw gonijja ; him they crown,
pl)j and The gonius knows them
not Tho rtstftf Atitm ; ono golden w0rd leaps
out iiimtttrtiil htim alt thti palntud pedantry, and
turmrntn tw with invitationn to its OWE m-
aewwlbte lwtn. 1 ronw*ml>er 1 went once to see
tho Ifatttktt of a flitted {iiwiwmir! the pride of the
Eitglh ; liiid til 1 then heard, and all 1 now
rtitmmlK*r t of tlw tr,-rydi:ti, wai that in which the
tr.vvdun had wo part; witiply, Hamlet's quantum to
tlm ghi^V""
" W!t tills mew,
Hint row, in M|ikto itutil
tlwi f tfw moon f '*
llmt iiitiiglitatioii whielt tho he writei in
to tho world** dimrttmcn! erowdn it with agents in
rank mnl ortli^ s* qtilfkiy riidtictss the big reality to
li thti iif tliti moon* Thewj of Ms
for u tlw Itlwilwiw of the ^n^'n-room.
Can any M^THI.!',) light on fche locmHtles into
which tliti Mitkiiinitipr Night'n Droatn wlmlte iel
I>i4 Shak 'jit^r*' ^,*iillila to any or parish
ri^wr*lt% or rut;- air, iit Btratford, tho
of lltat. ili4ii*ntt4 Tim of
tlw itimUb air irf P-mn CV-rt**, the moonlight
412 RRPRKSKXTATIVK fr
of PortiVs villa* w tho imtres vast an<l desart* idle"
of Othello's captivity, where is the third nounm, or
grand-nephew, the chancellor's fib of account*) or
private letter, that has kept one word of those tran-
scendent secrets! In fine, In this drama* as in
all great works of art ? in tho Oyclopoan ardbitee-
ture of Egypt and Ijpdia ; in tho Phijjian sculpture ;
tho Gothic minster; tho Italian painting; tho Ballads
of Spain* ad Scotland, *the Goiiiuii flrawa up tho
ladder after him, when tho ereativo ago up to
heaven, and gives way to a now, which tho
works, and in vain for a history.
RhjilcHjH'ari'. is the only Ino^rajtlu'r of
and evon he mn tell nothing, exctipi to tho
spoar in us ; that 1% to our zipprchi'ttxtvo m\il
yniputIu.Uo hour. Ho oanuut stop from off Itm
tripod* d give us anecdoton of Itw innpinttiona,
Kead die antique document* oxtricattsd, iuial^.-i'd, n.nt!
comparodj ^y the awklnoui Dyen und (Hollmr; mi<l
now read one of tiboso kioy sfiHt^nn-s, ju'mliir^,
which to have fallon out of li?tt t and whkhi
not your experience, but the man within the breast,
has accepted m words of fate ; and tell mo if thiy
match ; if die formar account lit any maimctr few thu
latter; or, which tlio m<fc htMtoriail ii%ht
into tho man.
HonoOy though our external Mitory in no
yot, with ShaksiMjun* for biogmphor, of
Aubrey wad Howe, wo have malty tho information
whioh is materiiil, tlmt which utitl
fortune, that whJbh^ if wn to tho
KttAKHmKF. ; 01, THE WHBT. 413
awl dtil with him, would most impotli m to
know, Wo have hin recorded convictions on those
qwwtion* which knock for at every heart,
on life nl faith, on We, on wealth and poverty, on
the of Hfify and the ways whereby we eome at
; on tl? of man, and the influences,
occult awl open, which their fortunes ; and on
raynUsrfotfa and dotnoniacaf powers which defy
our *fl<l which yet interweave theft malice
ami tJteir gift in mir brightest IIOWM* Whoever read
th vohtnw of th<* BonnetM, without finding that
tlin pr*t liiiil wvwilotl, under that we no
to this ititetllgtmt, tlta lore of frionduhip and of
flw ^>n!urion of wiitiinente in the most stw-
lii, aml at tha tiww, the nwwt intellectual
of muni What trait of hi private mind hM he
Iiidflf it In til dratnw* 1 One can dinoern, in Ms ample
of the and. tha king, what forms
ami liniiiittlll**! him ; Mi Might in femops of
in lmpitl!ty, to giving. Let
f lroit f lot Warwiok, Int Antonio lite pehwoit aaswer
for hi* So far from SlmlwpMiro'fl beiag
tl$ kiitwn, lui Ii this diia in all tuodom
hintoryi to t What point of morals, of
af r-Mjtuitt}, of philiophy f of religiofij of
of tin tiiiitttii*| of lifii, has ho not settled?
What ha* l not Ms Inowbdge of 1
or or of work, hw
fw iwl r0iiiOttilw41 What king hi* to net taught
wt Tlft Whab maidm haa
not him fl^*r iliw Iwr What lover
414" TtRPKKSKNTATIVB WBS. [T.
has ho fiot outloved ! What has ho not ontooon
What gentleman has he not instructed in the rude-
ness of his behaviour 1
Some able and appreciating critacu think no criti-
cism on flhukhjuw valuable, that doon nob purely
on the dramatic merit ; that hts in falsely judged tin
poet and philosopher- I think a* highly m
critics of his dramatw merit, kit till think it second-
ary. 11$ was a full man, who lilwrf to talk ; a brain
exhaling thoughts and imago*, whkli, wwkmg wnfc,
found tho drama ncixt at hand. Had ha IKHW l(w t wo
flhonld have had to conatdw how wull Im lilliid his
plactv how good a dntinatiit hu w;r:, jn! ho I tho
best in the world But It twnts out, that what ho IIMJ
to aay i (if that welglit, as to withdraw nomo att<*ntioii
from the vohiolc; ami he la lika aaint whono
hfetory I to be rondorod into all l;m;^m;;'^ into
and prose, into and picture, ami out tip into
proverbs ; ao that tho which the kt f
moaaing tho form of a <ttmvorit-uw, or of a prayer,
or of a code of laws, is hmnutmitl, rumpjirtnl with tli
tmivoraulity of ito application Ho it lareii with tho
wiso Shakupcaw and his book of Ijfo, Ifo wrtto tho
aire for all our modern manic : ho wrote the* ti*xl of
modem life; tho text of mntinors: ho Atw I tin man
of England mid Kuropo ; tho fathor cif tho mini in
America ; he drew tho man* witl d^iwriberi tho ciay f
and wliat is dona in it : 1 row! tint erf
and women, thoir proWty, wid tlwlr
and wilea ; tho wlloa of iuuoconcu> y tuul tho tnisitln
by which v Irtue%nd ititorflmlr ;
r.] BHAKBPIAE1 ; 01, THIBOIT, 415
Ho could divide the mother's part from the father's
part In tliti face of ilui child, or draw the fine domar-
ftttiotw of frwtdom and of fate : he knew the laws of
jvpriwinu which mrtko the police of nature : and all
fchii and all tho terrors of human lot lay in his
mind tw truly but m aoftly as the landscape lies on
th ty. And tho imjwrtanco of this wisdom of life
fltft form, AH of Drama or Epic, out of notice.
f Tw likis ttutkfiig 11, question nmrnrning tho ^ paper on
wliirli it in written.
KIiA'-f^m* Ii ai much out* of the category of emi-
nent tmthoni, a* he m out of the crowd. Ho is incon-^
n -i\ ;s1 1v v. " r ; the othera, conceivably, A good reader
iii in a Hort, twstla into Plato's brain, and think from
iltftiei^ ; but not into Sluil^jwart^. We arc still out
of floors For executive faonlfcy, for creation, Shak-
IM nniijue. Ko man can imagine it better. He
wiw thi reh of nubtloty com]KiUhle with an
iiidlviiliial Motf f "-th0 mxbtiloHt of authors, and only
jtwt within ifw |iwibllity of authorship. With this
wimlmtt iff life, i tho t* qual endowment of imaginative
atul of If rid jKiwer. Ho dothod the creatures of his
li^*iiil with form itmt senttmonte, w if they were
|if*jI* who hail lived under hi* roof; and few red
luwi 10ft Nimh diiiincit charnoteni as these fictions.
Ami Uwy in w ewwt M it was fit
Yt liin nisvor wiiiuoetl him into an ostonta-
f ittii, iinr iliii lia !iir|i on erne string. An omnipresent
tmmmiiiy wi-ordinaten nil hl faoultieii, Q-ITO a mm
tif a to ttill, and his partiality will prc-
nfipwr, JI hiw eurtnin obdlrvbions, opinions,
410 IffiPlffiSlHSfTATlVR fr.
topics, ^hieh have accidental prominences anil
which he diapOBoe all to exhibit Ha thia part,
and starves that other part, conmilting act the
of the thing, but his and ntnwgti. But Hhak-
Bpoare has no peculiarity, no importunate topic ; but
all is duly given ; no vein*, no mnmlim ; no cow-
painter, no bird -fa nr wr, no manncriift Is he; he ha*
no disco verable egotism : the groat ho ;
the small, Hubordinatoly. Ho is wine \\ itPuwf <-in(ilt;i'-i ;
or iwscsrfclon ; ho i ateag! tw natnw i strcing, who
lifts tho land Into mountaii* ib|^ii without ffort^ and
by tho samn rulo w Ae a bubble in thn air, ami
like* m well to do tho one as tho otter, Thin
that quality of power in fanso, narrative
and lo\ snn^s j a merit no imM'sHun^ that
is ineredulouft of tho perception, of
This power of expr^mrm, or of
inmont truth of things Into mtutto tncl
him tho typo of fcfai poet^ and hw achtad a now jml>-
lom to motaphysica This is tlmt which throw* tiitu
into natural hfefeory, m ft mnin prtxiutiUcm of tlm
globo, and as artwwm*!m<; now and iimelfomifoip.
Tilings were mirrored in h pcmfcxy without toss or
War s he could pint tho fine with pm'Uwiu tho
with compass : the aatl tho cpie indiffer-
ently, and without any dintortion or favour. II
oarriod hfa jxiwerful exiitjiition Into minute te
a hair point; finbhos an or a dimplo w Irmly
as ho draws a mountain ; and yt lifeti n&ttir#X
will bear tho cmtiy of tbo niii*roAto{)f%
In rfior^ ha to the chief to prof i that
v.] SHAKSPJEATCK ; OK, THE POET. 417
more or less of production, more or fewer pictures, is
a thing indifferent. He had the power to make one
picture. Daguerre learned how to let one flower etch
its image on his plate of iodine ; and then proceeds at
leisure to etch a million. There are always objects ;
but there was never representation. Here is perfect
representation, at last; and now let the world of
figures sit for their portraits. Is o recipe can be given
for the mafcnag of a Shakspeare ; but the possibility
of the translation of things into song is demonstrated.
His lyric power lies in the genius of the piece.
The sonnets, though their excellence is lost in the
splendour of the dramas, are as inimitable as they :
and it is not a merit of lines, but a total merit of the
piece; like the tone of voice of some incomparable
person, so is this a speech of poetic beings, and any
clause as unproducible now as a whole poem.
Though the speeches in the plays, and single lines,
have a beauty which tempts the ear to pause on them
for their euphuism, yet the sentence is so loaded with
meaning, and so linked with its foregoers and follow-
ers, that the logician is satisfied. His means are as
admirable as his ends ; every subordinate invention,
by which he helps himself to connect some irreconcil-
able opposites, is a poem too. Ho is not reduced
to dismount and walk, because his horses are running
off with him in some distant direction : he always
rides.
The finest poetry was first experience; but the
thought has suffered a transformation since it was
an experience. Cultivated men often attain a good
VOL. iv, 2 E
418 KKnil^KNTATlVL [?,
degree of 'akill In writing ; but It in iw to wad,
through their potmus their jwwmal hitory ; any one
acquainted with partitw wn mime every figure ; this
is Andrew, and that i Kachttl TIiu wtwe thug re-
mains prosaic. It 1 a ratorpillar with wing*, and not
yet a butterfly. In the poet 1 * mind the fa^t kw gone
quite over into th new olomimtr of thought, and hiw
lost all that IB cxtivial. Thi '.i-u^f" ily abidrit with
Sliukup^uttft. W ay, from the tnxth i4 t'lfwi-mw of
his picture^ that h know tho kuwon l*y hi?art, Yt
hortt fe not & t?raci of <*gwi!8in,
Oita moro iwyal triiit projmrly }il<mgi f th |i*t
I mean ls ohoorfulnrA*, wit-hout which no matt rim
lie 11 poi)t for beauty i* hi aim. !I lovt virtue,
not for Ite otdigatlon, but for it* : ho d^lightv
in the world, In man, in woiuatii for tti lovely light
that sparklwi from them, Beauty, Uio Hpirit cf joy
and hilarity, ho over the univuim Kfiicunw
rokta that iniwtty tmth wioh i*liiirnt ttiaf. a lovw
might fornako hw to pwtek cf them, Ami
the true bards havo Imm oti*4 for tht'ir fintt mid
ohoorful temper. Homt % r lii* in ttauHhitm j C vliiiwit'ii 1
is glad and oreot ; and Hindi ** It ww riumnt wl
abroad that I was penitent ; but wtmi hud 1 to do
with roiwntaneol" Not km ; ^ TI i^ ,n and rhi^rful,
-mueh more sovereign and ehwrfwl^ in the toim of
Shal'jn;irc. Hl name joy mi! iint4wi|m*
tlon to the heart of mn. If lin ilimilil in ty
company of huxirnn *iil% who would tii in
his troop I Hit touche* nothing itut
health and longty from hk
v,j tfHAKtfPKAUK; OH, TUB POKT, 419
And now, how atunda the account of man with
kml mitl Itmwfuctor, whmi in solitude, shutting
rtur far* to tlw wv<rJ Mirations of M fame, wo seek to
ttt.riku tlw balajicn? Hrilliticln lias austere lessons; it
ran tti4t HM to njir Iwtb heroes and poets; and it
w*i|iliM Kht'iktyi'AW itlwi, and hub him to share the
)mlftif*ft< ni IftsfirifffliMn of humanity*
SiiA i <|t',j$, HnifiWi I)ante t Chaucer s aaw the
:-p3.'iilfiiir f nimiiing that pky over the visible
wiirt*! ; kmw t-n* had another me than foi
siji|il*^ ti4 *frn ttai!ii*r than for meal, and the ball of
thu t>ititK ttwn for and rotwls : that these things
IKW a w^oitd and <lnr han f ct to fclw tnind, being
H *rf it^ tliiiiiiflifo, and 'nnvcyjn^ in all their
Iilsf wry n m*rliiii iftitte wmmientary on human
Iifi\ SlMti']tf.uv i fitp!f'i'.| tlwiti iw oolourg to com-
|wif4i* Iti?^ |iirf.iim flu nwtoi in tlialr beauty; aad
iitjv0r tik ilia wiilcli stwiiid inevitable to such
iiiiiiif*!y, txi ,i|ltirti th vititie which resides
iti t!ir#t ^yitiltfilit, and imjwrte tliw power, what is
flint, wlil*"i i hoy iln,*iiw*lwi twyl He converted the
t<lt'.m<M(it-s W'iiit'tt wiilwl on Im t*omnmntl t into enter-
tain t*titi4 t I iti wtut fitiwtlfif of tlici nwrfi to mankind
Is It twi >w if tw fttwnilfi havn, through majestic
|niwnfit wf ^Itttii't?, Uw rtmirli into his hand, or
tltn |i!?iiw*ii und iltwir inunnn, untl rfiottUl draw them
front liwif 0rbitn tci with its* 1 municipal
tm wul in ftU towns **
iii|wriir ^-. .-' * hhi fliii viiitg S lf Are the
*{ itnl'iirt*, ;ifi4 life IMIWI* t'4i u iti I**! 1 , toid them* worth
420 Ul'.l'KKM \ YM* V I \\ ,
no more than n trwt twiwdis or tlw iri*iitli nf a
cigar! One twiitit>eire again tlw fitit;,-.. k i v in ilsn
Koran,* ** The heaven* atul iiw wtrfrli, and all that i
between them, think ye we !mv cmitwl tlttiti In jt^t?"
As long an the quewtiait i of ttdunt smd wintitnl |HWIT,
the world of mm Iiai not hi* wjutil l rfiuw. I tut
when the quoHtion w lt> lifts awf it ini^'ruil-, mul Itn
auxilianftrt, how does it profit iwttl Wlmt. fl*M* it-
signify! It w Imfc a Twelfth NIglii i*MiUiimtnflr-
Night's Dream* or a 'Win to Kv^itinx^ Tain : what
Dignifies another picture moro ir lcvt Tin* Kgy|*tlitti
vonlict of llw Shuk''-!"':!!'!* HicSi'tkin f,nniw t> ittiit t
that ho wan a jovial actor and man:-.; *T, I cannot
marry this fact to M Otlir atimtrahtn 111011
have lod lives in nonio uort of keeping with ili4r
thought; but thin man, in wtlci ontriit It ml lui
been loew, had he reaohml only the eiiiiitufin
of great authors, of Ii:tcon, Mtltun,
we might Itsavo the fact in tlui twilight o! huntun
bu% that this iiiaii of mon h who u th m
of miiul u> new and tifgw ul*jft than lnwl
oxiHted, aEi planted tho itaruliwl <if hu
forward iitU* ('huo^' fhut li nhottld tut t
for Iiimso1f it miwt ev^n go fatUi tlm w<irlt'
huntory, tliat the boot pwit k*ti att <ilsi?tti and |*rfiiitt*
Hf t using IUH genius for tli puMm iinitti*iiiefii
Will, other mtm, pri*mt antl prophc^
German, and Sweclo, behold thw ulijiwlii : tlitif
ftlno imw tltrougli tlunn tliat wlih wim tttiiltiti
And to what ||iirpt>iif Tim
vanislmd ; they itHul <u>tmit;mdmt*ifK all *vr1ndin" 1
V,] HUAKBl'KAUK ; (IR, THE POKT, 421
mountaimmH duty; an obligation, a'aauness, as ol
pihid numnhii! , fll on them, and life became ghastly,
joyleaa, a pilgrim's progress, a probation, beleaguered
round with doleful hintorios of Adam's fall and curse,
behind us ; with do0iti!ity and purgatorial and penal
before us ; and the heart of the soar and the
heart of the ^utoner sank in fciujm*
It must be conceded that these are half-views of
half -num. The world still wants Ite pott- priest, a
reconciler, who shall not trifle with Shakspearo the
player, nor shall grope in graves with Swedenboaw
the monmer ; lint who shall sen, speak, and act, with
equal inspiration, For knowledge will brighten the
; right ii more beautiful tiian private affec-
tion ; and love is nmipaliW** with universal wisdom,
VI
NAPOLEON; OB, Tins M.AK OF
THE WORLD.
the eminout [mi-nom of the nineteenth century,
Bonaparte in far the known, and the most power-
ful ; and owt his predominance to the fidelity -with
which ho <>xjrv.w8 the tone of thought and belief ,
the of tho of active and cultivated men.
It ii Swedtwborg's theory, that every organ Is made
up of particles ; or, as it is sometimes
rx|uv.-,;rK whole i made of similars; that is,
the Itwtgs are comjKiwd of infinitely small lungs ; the
livor, of infinitely small livers; tho kidney, of little
kidtt&y*, C5t*s. Following this analogy, if any man is
fount! to tjarry with him the power and affections of
immtir*, if Napoleon is France, if Napoleon is
Europe, it i the people whom he swaya ore
little Nupoloonn.
In otir cwity f there ii a standing anta^oniwn
the connervative and the democratic ;
who made their fortunes, and the
young and who have fortunes to toake;
424 HRPHJfiBKNTATlVK MKN. |vt,
betwoon tiio interests of dwid labour, -that i, tho
labour of hands long ago till lit the graves which
labour is now^mtombod in monoy tock w in land and
buildings owned by idle capitalist*,'" and tho iulenite
of living labour, which ook to posw-w itelf of land,
and buildings, and money Htokn. Tim first C!UKM is
timid, selfish, illiborl, hating imwv^iwi, and con-
tinually losing number* by dnath, Th wuwd claim
IB selfish *olao, fiir-roachin^, bold, wlf- raying, always
outnumbering tho other, and ivrruitin^ ite liionlww
0vory hour by birtlw, It clcmlras t<> kHp ojwn ?ry
avenuo to the compdit-ton of all, and U multiply
ttvenuos ; thft of biBini mm in AiiMiriwi, in
'England, in France, and throughout Kurojio ; tlw>
class of industry and nkill Napoleon ii itn n*prt*sw^
ati?e, The instinct of ftctivo, bravo, able men,
throughout the middle ovarywharo, has pointed
out Napoloon as the Inoarnate Democrat. Ho had
their virtues and their vices j alt, ho hitil. thoir
spirit or aim. That tondoncy in tnatorial, {minting at
a sensual and employing the rifliwfc and
moat various meaxiA to that end ; convmmtit with
mechanical powers, highly intollticttial, widely and
accurately learned and nkiifwl, but 8ulwirliiwitiiig ill
intellectual and spiritual forces into to a
material success. To bo tho rich man, in the ciutt
"God has granted/ 1 say tho Koran, "to
peoplo 4 prophet in ite own tongue. " Purli* and
Ijondcm, and New York, tho spirit of iHmm<*r<*<\ of
money, and material pc>wei\ were duo to have tlmir
prophet, and Bonaparte wti iiuatifliitf ami
vl,| N U'MJ.uN ; Oli, THE MAN OF Till WOULD. 420
Every one of thn million readers of anecdotes, or
memoir^ or of Napoleon, delights IB the pag&
li tuclif* in it Ms own histoiy, Napoleon
in thoroughly modern, awl, at the highest point of his
fortuned, hint the very apirit of the newspapers. He is
noMftintv- 4c we bin own word, "no capuchin," and he
is no hro in 4' w * Mfift ^ho man in the street
find* in him tittt and powers of other men
In tlii ' % Hit ftiwk him, like himself, fey Mrth a
fitlwii, who, by very intelligible merits, arrived at
;* Hnuu; !i .ilih;/ pwilliiti! that ho could indulge tl]
wliieti tlm ootittnon man poHBcmsos, but is
to mnd : gocni society, good books,
fn-/! f ratlin-', lfr^cii'nr*n^ ;-/Tvaufw without ninnhcr,
prwotint wHffht^ tlm twnitin of his idaa*, the Btond-
iiiH in tlwuiltitttilfuif ti l)iaftar to all pron about
him* th** irfltw**! iijoyuM h nt of picture^ aiatue%
iiiii!4<% jiulan^i, iiiicl fotivowtJoirU bonotir, proctaoly
WfcWto to th hetirt of wary man in the
rt'tsftin, thin jHwi*rful man
It 14 fitir tiiiif, a 11*1111 of X:jjM1i'wV troth of ad&pt-
in flit* itiiii*! trf flu* Around him boeomea
nut iiirn4y : { ''i(*'dl\i\ but wtually a monopoliser
iiiwl tt^iii|trr of th r ftftiitlti Thtw Mimboiui plagiar-
tivit ovi*ry <*twA f ticiiiglit! wary good worf f that was
*|wktu In Fi'iniw* Duttumt ho Mtt in the
t*f tin* (^nmmtltm, *t)d board Ilimbeau make
If ^tnii ii (himont that he c*ouW flt it with
*u wltlrli ho wrutis in jHWUfll humdiAi(Jy,
1 it tu Umt f%if* f wbu iftt by him. Lord
!!! !. .iiiiM ..-. .Ml. ktitil Ottmitiiti in fti* 4 '\f'niA >iho\vcl
426 iiKi'Msr.NTynvn MRN.
it to Mi?aboati Miraboau mail it, promwnml it ad*
mirahlo, and declared ho would im'nrpMpufi' it into kin
harangue, to-morrow, to this ARseinbly. " It is inipfw*
wblc," said Dunumt, " an, unfortunately, I havo whown
it to Lord Elgin," " If you havo Known it to Lord
Elgin, ami to fifty perwms kwidc\ I shall till Mpuak it.
to-morrow;' 1 and hc^rllcl Mpoak it witji murJi dfcct,
at the next day 1 !* ucHHion. For Mirahr.au, with Im
ov(M*povvwn pwnonality, felt that tlie^ thiugn wliMt
his proftonoe inspired wor as much hi* own UH If ho
had naid thotn, and that his adoption of thwn gave
iiwm thtdr weight. Much inoro ahnoluU) and contrul-
ifling was tho ttecHSor to Miralmau'n pM[iul;irily, and
to much more thati his pndominanci'. In Franco. In-
deed, a man of XapolotuiV utmnp lilntcwt c^imm to
have a private ^,t^]\ and opinion, He i so largely
reeoptiva, and i so placed, that Iw wnnm to ho a
buroau for all the intolligtmoo, wit, and pcwi^i of th
age and country* Ht> ttio battle ; ht> mak<w tlw
code ; ho makes tho system of wtilghte unit ;
he Icivols th Aljw ; ho buildH thti ri*i All dbtln*
gulslicnl eiigineew, ftavoxift, taftttw f report to him ; o,
likawisej do all good luuulM in civiiry kind ; ho adtipte
the hst moHKiww, sate hi atamp on tlwmi, and twt
these alone, but on ?ry happy and mimiorabU) tix*
presslon* Every sontonm) sptjknn by Napolwon, aid
every liirn of his writing, tmding, n it I* th
of France.
Bonaparte wa the idol of nnurtoti mmt, feftcww^
h had in tmnsocndctit di;'iTi tiio <|itiil!ti4 wid powww
of cotmuon men. There w a oorUiK in
VI. J VU.O.L* N ; Ott, THE MAN OF THB WOULD. 427
coming down to the Imvwt ground of politic!?, for we
gat rid of rititi ami In porn y. Bcmaparte wrought,
in common with thai f^nmt daw ho roj^jscintod, for
powur iinii woidth,-" hut Bonaparte, specially, without
any *erujlt w to tit** ttunuwt. All the sentiments
which *?iiikttT!i mrm'tf fmrwlti of thcue objects he
not iis4ti Thn i*nf iini^itu wore for wowen and
eWIiirwi. roii,tiir . In 181)4^ rx}n',s ( sec] Napoleon's
own W,*IHI% wtini f In tmhnlf of the Honato^ ho ^idrossod
him,'-- w Hiri^ l tlt dmiro of pftrfoction fc the worst
*lw4) tltt ww iilflksii^i Uio human mind." The
of lilxniy, itiirl of ara IC ideologists;"
- - a word wf cuiitwinjifc of ton in 18 mouth ; ** Neoker
$iii !tli*iili>glrt :" ** w m iciwlogiat/ 1
An Italiun |rvcrb too well known, declares that,
u lt you wfuld ttut*wd, you intuit not be too good/'
It in ti within ii < tein HmitB, to have re*
tliti duminion of the soutinumte of piety,
*?!<!' mid ; what wan i mipAss-
Imr t*i IP, and t*till tt> othiiiw! becomes a eoti-
ttt wi"ii|cft fur wnr j>ur|iHC'; jiwt as the river
whtdi ww4 fontuditbta baniet\ winter
Nii]H4i > t*u ivtMnnn<d, on<H for fdl, nontimontB cund
Htid would Iwtlp HiuuK^lf with his hands and
hi* Imrtfl. With him in o militate, wul no magiot He
ii a. wi'irkpi" it In trcin, in wood, in earth, in
} Iwtildiiigi, in tuouoy, find in te>ap and a
vttry atil majiter-workmaji. He is
iii lifiimry, bat uct with tlw solidity wtd
tli* |*ffjfpi**it <if lit hits not lost his
4*JS KKl'KKSI- XTA'm i; MO, [vi
nativn i&n&o awl sympathy with things, Mtn give
way before such a man, an before natural ovtmtH, To
bo sure, thow are imm enough who arts inimamul in
things, as farmorw, smiths, and
generally i and wo know how rwil and wolid uch
appear in the prowmM of Hcholar* ami ;*r,!mtn;nl;u ;
but thcHO men ordinjirily lank llit jwwur of arrange
mentj and are liko hanci without a ImuL But Buna
parto mjj>r!ildod to this mmursd anil 8 fiiiiwml fcruo,
insight and goiieralkiitlcn HO that tium tw in him
combiiuwl th natural and tihii Iritdlmttital IKIWISF,
if th im and land had, taknn flcwh and tn'^titi to cipher.
Thoroforo the land and mm tw pnMUppomt him.
He came unto hia own, and thoy rwivwl him. Thin
cipluirin^ operative knows what IIR i working with,
and, what in the product Ho know thu projwTtii*^
of gold and iron, of whtwl* fiat! hip, of troopx and
diplottuittats, and requirod nhotUd do after
ite kiml.
The art of war ttto garni) In which ho
hh tritlimutle. It <, -.!;( cd, aueortling to hliri^ lit
having moro than tlto mwmy, on th
point where thu enemy i atUoked, r wlwire he
attacks s and his whola talent by idli
tnanoouvre and avoktioa, to mawh on tho
enemy at an angle. And duttoy bin In flutai!.
It is obvious that a vory fonu k , iMlfitlly and
rapidly mwaiwrmg, w w always to tiring two mmt
one ftt tho point of ni^.rvim'Mi, will l w
over match for it much Iwcly t*f
The timoi, hi corutitutiiin v and* lifi
vi.] KAPOLEON ; OK, THE MAN OF THE WORLD, 429
stances, combined to develop this pattern democrat.
He had the virtues of his class, and the conditions
for their activity. That common seru^e, which no
sooner respects any end, than it finds the means to
effect it , the delight in the use of means in the
choice, simplification, and combining of means ; the
directness and thoroughness of his work; the prudence
with which ail was seen, and the energy with which
all was done^make him the natural organ #nd head
of what I may almost call, from its extent, the modern
party.
Nature must have far the greatest share m every
success, and so in his. Such a man was wanted, and
such a man was born ; a man of stone and Iron,
capable of sitting on horseback sixteen or seventeen
hours, of going many days together without rest or
food, except by snatches, and with the speed and
spring of a tiger in action ; a man not embarrassed
by any scruples \ compact, instant, selfish, prudent,
and of a perception which did not suffer itself to be
baulked or misled by any pretences of others, or any
superstition, or any heat or haste of his own. " My
hand of iron," he said, "was not at the extremity of
rny arm, it was immediately connected with my head."
He respected the power of nature and fortune, and
ascribed to it his superiority, instead of valuing him-
self, like inferior men, on his opinionativeness, and
waging war with nature. His favourite rhetoric lay
in allusion to his star ; and he pleased himself, as
well as the people, when he styled himself the "Child
of Destiny." They charge me?" he said, "with
430 KIJl'KKSKXT VTIU; HEN, {vi.
"the oomtfiiHton of great crime** ; won of my Htump do
not commit Crimea Nothing hiw Iwti moro simple
than my olovaAion : *ti hi vain to ascribii it to intnguo
or crime: It waa owing to th p<'i-nltan?y of the tiitif?8,
and to my imputation of having fought wull against
the enemies of my c(wntry, 1 havw always marchtul
with the opinion of jgroafc mawr.s, ant] witli ewmt*,
Of what two, tlutti, would crimcm Iw to mw ?" Again
ho sai<1, H^c^aking of his HOH, u My n ^tnnot rnjikefi
mo ; I could not replace uiynolf, I am felio croaturo
of circumfltanco. w
Ho had a clinictocw of iwtirin novtfr 1*for <wm-
binod with no much onmpn*lunsitn. Ho in a nmlfot,
terrific to all talkorn, and confuMf^d tnith^ohKcurinx
poraona. Ho whuro tho matter hin^tw, thrown
himself on the fwa pt>it> of rritiifj\ attd rfiglit
all othor conHiderationn, Ho i utrwtg in tle right
manner, namely, by mnighk Ho nvtr
into vietory, luit won hii battki in liis litl,
he won them on tlw flM. llw prittci|itiJ
in hiinnolf* He oonnnol of no other* In tTiMJ,
he writes to the Directory; **I havo fit*ltmti*il tltn
t',;unp:ii;;u without consulting any *>*. I Hhottid Ituwt
clone no goo<l, if I had bmw undir tlwi iu*w*Hity of
(informing to the notionn of anottter fir'niitii 1 havo
gttlued wini advimtagoM ovw Mijwrior formm, wii
whun totally dontituto of ovarythiug, lnwiiu*!, In tht)
jmrsiiamou that your confitlcmiio wa n 4 |t,iti In rn<t>
nay actions wore m prompt iw ray thought*."
Hwtory i full, down to thta dy, of tlw ImlMi'Slity
and govuftutr* r fhi?y mis * of
,] KAWLKON ; OH, THE M4N Of THE WORLD. 431
much to Iw pitied, for tlioy know not wlat they
should tlo. The woavorH strike for bread; antl the
king and hi mlmnlw, not knowing whi$ to do, meet
than with hayomttfl. But Napoleon understood his
hutthifm 1 lirti was a man who, in oach moment and
i'i<T !'in'\\ ktww what to do next It IB an immense
comfort mill wfrrahmwit to tho spirits, not only of
kin#H, hut of eittetw, Fcsw jrwn^havo any next; they
livfl fr<mt liaiKJ! t^ iiKitith, without plan, and, arc ever
at tin*. itul c*f thnr HUP, anrl, after ewh action, wait
for $ intj*ul^ fitun abroad. Na|K>10(tfi had been the
lint titan of th wtrid if hi* undu had been purely
public. As lit* Ii, hit Inspirta? eoniidonoe and "vigour
by tin*, ^xtr*mliary unity of his action. He is firm,
mm\ , 'U "Itnuii' 1 . --1f {-;! pouinjr, sacrificing overy-
tiling t4 hia aim,--" nmy, troops, gonorak, and his
own lw, tii Iili itini ; not rnialed^ like common
fMlvt'fitururft, by flifs wplotidour of IUB own moiuis.
w lniiUwt c!glit not to govom jiolicy,** ho said, "but
{K!ky mriUmU w **To lie hurried away by evory
tifitiit, i l* ihtrt"! 1 , iu> {Kltleitl system at all." His
victor it** wi! only no many doors, and he never for
a witttiiwii 1*^f> of !il way onward, in the dazzle
wttl uproar of tb [irtwftttt lireumsfcaitcta Me know
what f*i tlf\ ftitil lw flow to Inn mark* Ho would
liiriiigltt ii* to ccmtts at his object Horrible
way, no doubt, te oollected from Ms history,
of tiw jiiii'w til wlileh Iw kniglit hits ,; but ho
wot Iw *t down tut eraal j but only as
ctttrt wliii knuw lit* iiniK^liiiU'Ut to his will ; not blood-
twit cnil -but woe to wha* thing or person
432 RKrKKSKNTATiVK MEN, Jvi,
itood in W way ! Not bloodthirsty, tint wot sparing
of blood, and pitiloxa* HP saw only tho ohjtwt ; th
obstacle) mnst give way* " Sin\ ( lonmul (.'/larko can-
not combine with (lonoral *Iwmt for flw dreadful
fire of the Austrian battery,"-- -" Let him curry tlw
battery. ""-"Hires ovory ntgmwut that- ajfTnhe tlw
heavy artillery in sacrificed; Hir\ what ordrH? M -
"BVward, forward l* f Btiraalor f a eolifiiol of artillery,
gives, in JiuH Military Menu MI*. , tlw fo^owing skeieli
of a sctmo after tho battle of AuHtwlitx.- -"At tho
moment in which tho Ituwiatt army wiw waking it*
retreat, painfully f but in gooil onl<*r, on tho ice of tiw
lalco, tho Kmjwror Napfleou canto rifling at full
toward tbo artillery* * You are losing timts*
s firo upon thoso ; they mnut b i gulf ml : liro
upon the ice!' Tho order romninod uu^xttcttttHt for
ton minutoa. In vain itwnil iflker and mywlf wrt
placed on the nlopo of a hill to pixxtur the offtwt :
their balln and miiw rolled UJKWI ilia w t without
broiiking it iifi* Sowing that, I lri k .fl a ulntfib inatliiMt
of olovating light howiteisw. Th silittcwifc j'-rj'!i*Ii
oular fall of the heavy pwjVdilw prodiuvil tho <lirtid
offoct My mothot! injiiHdiati'ly followed by th^
adjoining batteries and In lew tliiiti no tim* wo buried"
Homo 1 *' thounttnl of Itiwrtaiii and AtiniriauM iiinli*r
the watorH of the lake,"
In tho plonitudo of bw *;*,< turn*-*,
seamed to ?iiL "Thoro Im no Alp/* lie
stud; and h built hii jittrftw^t rlltnliliiji by
* An I iftwti it *ewtil Itintl, iiiitl cwrtuot
ttiw not J|tfc tins ffigh flflutv I Ilntl
VI. 1 K4WH.KON ; OH, THE MAN OK THK WOULD, 433
tiwir KtM*|wt precipice,^ urttil Italy
was w* OJKW to |'ttri iw any town in Franca Ho
laid hi* Inmm to, mid wrought for hi ro?m, Having
dtu&iwt what mm to IMS floats ho did that with might
jitiil mam. He put out all hk atrangth, Ho risked
t'x.-n'lru , find pitn4 notluxig, neither awinumition,
nor imnwy, tioi^rwjw, nor gismtiijila, nor lumaolf.
Wr, liktf to ^ -\i-ni hi !!. do its oilice after itn
kiittl^ wf$etlwir*it t* a inibh-oow ot a ratfleHriako j
aiifl f if fighting Im fclin nwxlo of adjuitmg national
I:irgf*. ituij*i'iiir^ of men aeem to agree),
iitnarti' wi right In making it thorough.
"The grand jirincifilct of war/ 1 ha Maid, "was, that an
army to bo ready* by day and by night>
litid ill ill li*ur^ tit all the rwlstaieo it is capable
of making" Ho nwvwr cfjoiwinwwl his awnnimition,
tmt, on a liiwit-ilii |itwition raitiod a torrent of iron,*
<v r.,n hoi, ii annihilate all defence.
Hit ittty if ho coniwntrated wjiuwlixui
c$ ,t|iUf!r<>u in ^luh-'Imin;- uutnbcni, until it was
sw|ii *il wf rxlt!rw\ To a regiment of honae-
at Lfilw^iwtolitj two dny bfr the battle
til Jt?ti:i X,ijM!>'nn HaM, " My lad% you jmwt not fear
diimtli ; wlwit Koldium bravn diilli tliay drive him into
Uw i*n^itij fl mitkn/* In Urn fury of wwault to no
^fKiwI tiiiiiiiIi tin wmit to thtt edge of Ms
!>,. , ? *.:*itf tfc In that in Jtutly ho did what he
ct*uW, ii*l i*lt tltmi litt ctmld. Ho eaituv ovt'al tiniB,
wiifilit mi iin?ti fif ittlii j iiitcl life own parson ww all
hut lie .. !tui"- ln^ tbft at Arcola. Tito
w,nv tH*iwttii him and hw troops, in the
VOK IV- S F
434 HKPKKSKNTATIVK MEN". [vi.
meMe, afid lie was brought off with desperate efforta
At Lonato, and at other places, he was on the point
of being taten prisoner. He fought sixty battles,
He had never enough. Each victory was a new
weapon. " My power would fall, wore I not to sup-
port it by now achievements, Conquest has mode mo
what I am, and conquest must maintain me." He
felt, with ovary wise man, that as much life is needed
for conservation, as for creation. Wo fare always in
peril, always in a bad plight, jut on the edge of
^destruction, and only to Be saved by invention and
couraga
This vigour was guarded and fnnpiwl by the
coldest prudence and puncUialit y, A thunderbolt in
the attack, he was found invulnerable in M intrench-
ments, His very attack was never this Inspiration of
courage, but the result of caltralafciott Ilk idoa of
the best defence consists in being still tho attacking
party, " My ambition," he ay% IC was but was
of a cold nature, w In one of Ms converaationA with
Las Caaas, he remarked, * s As to moral courage, I have
rarely met with the tw<MiV,lodk-iu U*-ni(rnin;j; kiwi j
I moan unprepared courage, that which is nwuwHury
on m unexpected occasion; and which, in spite of
the most unforoseon events, leaves full Inmlmn erf
judgment and decision ; M and ho did not hwiteta to
deckre that hewas himself r.minmiU iMuluui-l \\ if h tWi
"iwo-oVloclc-Iu-t.hc-inoniin^courttgo, and tlwfclw hwi
met with few persons equal to himadf in this rpti?t w
Everytinng depended on tho nicoty of hw mm-
'Mutations, and the stew ware not nttos fmnttttuit than
vi, 1 ; OK, TftK MAN Of TUB WORLD. 435
It In IIIi attention descended to
the {wrtirnihuE* At Montebollo, I ordered
t with right hutftdrdfi homo, and
with h tho nix thousand Hungarian
pTfw*lifT,% tlw wy ayes of the Austrian
Thin fitvalry w half & off, and re-
cftttwl a of an hour to Arrive on the field of
; iiwl 1 ed that It is always those
of an the fete of battle."
** Itefw! h a hafctte, Bonaparte thought little
lie riiould do in of feecew, but a,
w!fe hii rfiould do in eaae of a
nf fortune*" Th prudence and good
nil bin behaviour. Hfa instoictions to
Mi Ht Iliii T nilbri tro worth numjinlMirijig.
**ti'iiriiig the imt^er my chamber w seldom as
1 >i not whim you have any good
to wtiitiiiwilimte ; witli that k no hurry*
Iltii yti bring bad iiciwi, rowe me iMtantly,
fur l* tw>t a tnrnnont to be last 1 * It was a
ri!ttiitii| of flti kitid which dictated
bin ptititit'ft, wlt'eii getinml in !toly f ia regard to his
Imnlrnr* mm mnv^ini^m^ He directed Boumenjie
to liav til UHojnu ( il for tliree weeks, ad
witli how largo a part of
Itw lite! iliapos^ of itself, and
itti rtifitirstl an ainwtr. IIw wliieTememt of
wwi iiwwu^tu^', ami i^nlur^t*!! th known powers
of Thi'ffl !fti i;iny vvorlin;' Ivingw, from
to William tit Onuigft, but nou who aecom-
it til parfoniiauce.
4-36 llEPJtBSWTATWK MKN. [VL
To tfiese gifts of nature NapnVnii added the
advantage of having boon born to a private and
humble forttihe. In his later days he HIM I th weak.
ness of wishing to add to Ms crowns and badges the
prescription of aristocracy ; bat ho know his dobt to
his auetoro education, and made no Hocrot of his con-
tempt for the born r kmg, and For *{.tho hereditary
asses," as he coarsely stylod the Mtmrbonn, Ho said
that, (( iif tholr oxilo they had taarneif nothing, and
forgot nothing.*' Bonaparte had paKmnl through all
^fcho degrees of military service, but alo wm citixou
before he wm emperor, and so ban the koy to citom-
ship, His roBmrka and ostiniates dincovor tho infor-
mation and justness of nu&Btmmumt of tho mitUUt)
class. Those who had to deal with him found that
ha was not to be imposed upon, but could ciphtir a
well as another man. Thin appmw in nil jiartn of hin
Momoira, dictated at St Helena. Wlmu tb ximmH
of the empress, of M houtiohold, of hi paliMMfl, had
accumulated griMit d^bls, Hapoknn ttxiHiiin^d tho bill
of tho creditors himgolf, dotontod ovfri-h.-fr;;*-; ttwl
errors, and reduced tlie claims by tiotwMwiiblrt mim^
JHis grand weapon, namely, tho niiiliuiw whom hw
directed, ho owed to the nipn^'iitalht* <*,Utiractor
which clothed him. Ho interests tut OH ho for
France and for Europe ; mid he nn fmfifittft iI
king, only as fur aw tho l^ovolutioTt, or this ctf
tho industrious matu^ found ait or^tui ami a ltdbr
in him* la tho social intoraftta, ho know tli
md value of k^ur, aud threw Minuet!! tinliirally 011
that side. 1 tiktt an iuojdout monti<fiutd by mw wf liw
! j KArotum; mi, IIIL MAX OF THK WOBLD, 437
IIH r,*phj< ill St. IMmia, a Wliwi walking witL
MM, It V. i, K , Komi* wivfmi*, currying heavy boxes,
]t;iKMi by tin flu* roaclt&tui Mm U&lcombettaired them,
In i *t?ltfT un anynrv torn*, to ktvp back. Napoleon in-
U'ift<iv(l, Mtyiujf, * ttmpwt tlw burden, Madam. 1 " In
fist* iff tin* i*iiipin\ h\ directed aikiitio to the
tttt]'r<m itifii? P|tt <"inlMn!,jiniM^ of the tnafkots of
Itw r;|)ttal. *'Thw -plttcis M ho said, "is the
iiiinti* of tbi)1*mnmntt {wopW Tho prindfal works
lliiil li*iii f%i?i Itiiii an* lil iiwgnlficciiit wada , He
lillfil flu* \m Mpirit^ arul a sort of freedom
4inl "T-.t s - '-'i !n| up tatwtxm him and them,
wbii*b flit* fftnmof hmetmrfe wwver pwinitted betroea
tin f4Tirrri4 mill liiaii*lf They porfnnuod^ under his
*y*! 1 1* at, w!ti**h no othnrit ocml<i do* The best doeu-
iu'f f UH ?t*liitii to liw troop* Is the order of the
Jay iw flu* of the tmttlo of Auaterlit^ in
whirli N\ttuI MI jirf*iiiiti Ilia trwp that he will
IIP j? <ii Hill f$f wufh of lim This dackm^o^,
mltirli i^ flitt rcfviwe of fJtiii ortihittrlly fey
giitir4i* ii*l ^n t<i^t$s on tho we of a hattk^
rii*iitl| f**)*itiiii tho tlovolion of Ilia army to
Ilitt tfinti|?ti In in partwukwi this identity
!tiilWH*it >}iifiilr*nt iiwl tlin of tbo iopl% M$
n A! Ji^y in fitter ecmvlrUon tibai lit WM their
'< jir. ;?.!*:;. in liM ji'iiiti ;ni(I anus, not only when
lit* ftiirt4*t t bill iliirit hn contfolli'cl and ovon when ho
ftifiti by Jili fiiitMipticrtiH, He knew, as
w ititf tJmt>iii in l**rat-<\ lw\v to pMIosopMw
ttil Illicit) iiiiI ftftlility j awl wliim allusion w:us tuado
438 HRPRNTATIV1S MKH, [vi.
to the precious blood of centuries* which was spilled
by the killing of the Due d'Enghien, ho auf^entcjcl,
"Neither is lay blood ditch-water.* 1 The people felt
that no longer the throne was occupied, and the land
sucked of its nourishment^ % a am all claw of legiti-
mates, secluded from all cntnnuunty with tho children
of tho soil, and hoWing the idtsiw a#d mtpertltioti
of aloiigforgnUni state of society* I unload of that*
vampyroj a man of themselves hold, it? the TuiHrritvt %
knowledge and ideas like thoir own, opening, of ecwrwt,
to them and their children all platutg of power and
trust Tho day of deopy, aelfteh policy, ovor narrow-
ing tho means and opportunitUm of yottng nicin, ww
ondod, and a day of (expansion and donuu^d wa forua
A market for all tha powarif and prrHluctitms of mam
was opened; brilliant pris glittered in the yoiM>f
youth and talent. The old, 5rcm--lK>uiid, foudnl France
was chttiged into a young Ohio or Hw fork j and
those who smarted under tho fmmedi*to ngcnim of
the new monarcli) pardoned them, m the mtewwary
severities of the military system which had driven
out the oppressor. And mm when the majority of
the people had kigun to ask, whether they had really
gained anything under tho exhausting Iwlm nf itum
and money of the new waiter, llw whole talent of
the country, in every rank tml kindred, took hi* part-,
and defended him m it* natural patron, lit 1H14,
when advised to rely oft the highur Napoleon
wM to tho ftrotmd him, "Gentlemen, in the
tioa m which I^atand, my only nobility in thfi rabUe
of
JWUJ.KON ; ail, TKK MAN OF THE WOELP. 439
;q'*l* i MH tn<jfc thin natural expectatlJL Th
y of Ids fwsitioti required & hospitality to
evury wrt *f toltmt, atwl Its uppointmqib to trusts;
iitnl hi toltti^ wcmt along with this policy. Like
evi*ry uprit>r fffwiti, lie undottbtodly felt a desire for
urn atifl rmisp^t'tv, and a winh to metwura Ids power
with tJtf and an mu>at<i<mce of fools aad
ul'rliit , In July, hoHtntghl for men, and found
wi0, "Iftifiii Owl!" tin Maid) "luw raw joacn are!
TluTw an* inllllciiii in Italy, and I havo with
difficulty ftiitl twr*, -Daadob and Mekl n In later
with *" |"rii-nc'% Mi respect for mankina
w not In a moment of bitterness, ho
In *f liii fribndfi, "Men deaenre the
f>filfitttff with wlwft thuy iiwplro mo, I have only
to put* twin! fil*l dii the oofct of wty virtuous re*
|iti]4ir^is;> ? and f!iy iiumiHHut(4y become just what I
thiwt/' This ifu|KiHt*it(^ at levity was, however,
an fti*!$tftt t-riljitfci if to those able persons
wl* cwitiitMit!l i not only whan he found
llii^tii fri*twi* aiirl wwijitfeir*, but also whan they re-
fiw will II? etiitlil not confound Fox m& Pitt,
tttini! f l*iifiij*t*l% and Itomiulotto, with the danglers
f lt court j and, in of tlio tktr&otion which hifi
tlictttol towanl the captains
wbt> i 4 HUi(t)ft'^l wttlt i4 for ttiiii, ample aeknowledg-
an* by him to Lutwtes, Durocv Klebar,
Ifiimt,! and Au^cntiau, If h
lolfc lliiw ptP f ittti fin fotuider of theit
f tirfcuttt**, wli^ii ht iiifl, " I tawto my gintwls out
nf lllllit w lit couU llt 1tilf hi;. ;i;i( isPkclion in
44Cf KKn;Ksr.viAnv
from tiSom a seconding and support
with tho grandeur of hi i-nttTprisr. In the JKnwaan
campaign, hf) WIIH so much itiiprcnscd by the courago
and resources of Marshal Ney, that ho naid, "1 havt
two hundred millions hi ray cofforw, and I would give
thorn all for Key," The ehartwttm which ho hua
drawn of Bovural of his marshals, itro H, 'Tninnulur';,
and, though tlwy did not content th5 nwattablo vanity
of Fnai^h ofUcovM^ aro nu douht Kiil^itaiitiidly jtwk
Ami, in fact, vcry species of merit mmght and
advanced tmclar Im ^(v*ri!Mntit.. * 1 know," ho a!d,
** the dopth and draught of water of CWTJ one of my
generate," Natural power was un> to IKI wol!
at liis court, Hoventeon num in lil tlit\
from common soldiw to tho Rink of king, manihftl t
duke, or general j and the of hw hogiun oi
Honour wr given to pmwm&l valour, antl riot t
family counoctiutt. ct When ftaldittm liavp bru bajt-
tiKfid In the lire cif a battlc-fifthl, they havo all <m
nwtk in my tiyes,"
Whmi a imtural king bccomMi a tiitilar
ovorylnnly m plowed and wtiilkfii Thm
entitled tho ntrong pt>iulaco of ilia Piwhmir^ Ht*
Antoine, and every hurst* ly atid |>*u*!rr aiuuL-y lit
the army, to look on NupotfKm iw fli*li of liin
tiiKl thti cjttdaw. of kfa party ; hut tlwrn In -un !!un t ",
in thtj nuetiess of graiul tahmt wltlcli im tmi
varsal :nitq>;>ihy. For, In the JWV^JJH* of
and npirlti over iujiitlity td Jiialvrrrtatioti, all
able mn havo an inUwwt ; itinl, a* Ititolltcliittl Iwing^
we fed tlio air ffiirifted liy tho oltf^ric nlwwk, wlieti
vi.] NAPOLEON; OK, THE MAN OF THE WORLD. 441
material force is overthrown by intellectual energies.
As soon as we are removed out of the reach of local
and accidental partialities, man feels tjiat Napoleon
fights for him ; these are honest victories ; this strong
steam-engine does our work. Whatever appeals to
the imagination, by transcending the ordinary limits
of human ability, wonderfully encourages and liberates
us. This capacious head revolving and disposing
sovereignly drains of affairs, and animating such
multitudes of agents this eye which looked through
Europe ; this prompt invention ; this inexhaustible
resource; what events! what romantic pictureb >.
what strange situations ! when spying the Alps, by
a sunset in the Sicilian sea ; drawing up his army for
battle, in sight of the Pyramids, and saying to his
troops, " From the tops of those pyramids forty cen-
turies look down on you;" fording the Red Sea;
wading in the gulf of the Isthmus of Suez. On the
shore of Plotemais, gigantic projects agitated Mm.
" Had Acre fallen, I should have changed the face of
the world." His army, on the night of the battle of
Austerlitz, which was the anniversary of his inaugura-
tion as Emperor, presented him with a bouquet of forty
standards taken in the fight. Perhaps it is a little
puerile, the pleasure he took in making these contrasts
glaring, as when he pleased himself with making kings
wait in his antechambers, at Tilsit, at Paris, and at
Erfurt.
We cannot, in the universal imbecility, indecision,
and indolence of men, sufficiently congratulate our-
selves on this strong and ready actor, who took occa-
44*2 ' KKnu-oSKN'TATm-: MKN.
sion "by ,io board, and showed ua how much may be
accomplished by tho more force of iwch virtue** as all
men possess jji loas dt'-grw; namdy, by pnnt'fualii.y,
by personal attention, by courage, and fb"nn^JjiMw.
" Tho AustrianH," he said, " do not know tho value of
tima" I flhould cito him, in hi earlier yoarn, m a
model of prudonce, Bis jwwor dura not conftiftt in
any wild or <,\tr;i,va-;mt forwnj in any WithuHiaHin,
like Mahvwat*8 ; or Bingular pt>wt*r tf jrjr,mmsiftn ; but
in tho oxorciso of common on twioh j'lnrr^rnt'y,
liiitoad of abiding by mlcw aiwl cunUmiH. Tim i< k *wtn
lie teaches i that which vigour alwity t*achct^ that
there i ftlwayi rcwm for II T< whul heiifi* of
cowardly doubts Is not that m&nVt lifo an anwwor.
When Im appeared, it ww tho Iwlitrf <f all military
men that thore could bo nothing iww in war j an it in
the belief of mon to-day, that twttilng now tan bw
uiuleztaken in politic, or in chuwh, >r itt Iolt^w t>r
in trado, or in ftnulng^ or in tmr itumn^w atu!
oustoma ; and an it i, at All t!m% tlw* Iwliirf of wm-uity
that tho world It uod up. But Boiuipjirtt* kttt*,w
batter than vocioty; ami, m*rrnvrr, hi*
knew better. 1 think all mwi know l*tt**r than thwy
do ; know that tho institution!* wit volubly cum -
mend aro go*carte and bauble*; but tiny nut
traafc their prosentiiaente. lkii{rtt! ivll! tn hin
own stJiwe, aiul did not a bean Cr oilier
The world treated his novtilties juHtan it ttfiirj'
body*s no?01ti^% inHmUi ttbjtitttkin ;
all the imptitlhttuiitK : but ho p{HwI hin at
their objectioau* ** What liiflintlt) ," h
N U'HU>*\- ; OR, TIIK MAM OP THB WOULD/ 443
**i th of tho land-odSimandor,
in fit i?' '. ""; *f fwfltiig many men ami animals*
If \w liitiilf to txt guided by tlw^conmnssariea,
hi! will nvr alir, and all hia tixperlitlons will fail"
An nxaw|l of Mn mmmim m what he says of
Uw f tlsp Aljw In winter, which all writers,
irtM rjwttti)S ( .aft^r t!i rtlier had daaoxibod M im-
pi;ii1iv$lfl", "The wititor/* tij JJfaimleon, **is mot
llif iiiirtl4i lor rite passage of lofty
iipiiiiitiiiti-*, Tiwi l thii firm, th^ wearier
iii flw*w ii tioihmg to from avataaohes,
tin* n*l HIP! to Im *p|>5lteaddd in ^Se
I In motmUhifs there we often very
liiii* in l>Tt*mhrr, of diy oold^ with extreme
lit tin! nir," his aoeotmt, too, of the
In wttlr Jt tire cc In all battles, a
cwHtw, tfwi troops, after having
flip fc{ mellned to ftitt. Thtt
t^riMt |*r'tt'< j *'il 4 front ft Wftlll f t*iuifiili*tire in th<ur own
j Hftl it only a opportunity, a
jiMntri', In to thorn. The art is to
l^tv^ riw* U> tlie f|i|irinitj and to invent the pre*
At Aml, I WMI iJtn with twenty-fir
1 that ffit*tnat of lawitade, gar
ii. atul the day with this
You MW that two are two bodies
s4 to other : a
i,rf and that moment must b
In Wltwfl mrtii haft l>oon prowmt
In tt iliMwij^iMtt'H that inomont without
: it if an *a*y MI
444 UKiIMiKSKNTATIVH MEN, fvi.
This "JReputy of the nineteenth rmitury added to
his gifts a capacity for speculation on general topku
Ha delightecUn naming through tho range of practi-
cal, of literary, and of abatraot qwwfions. His opinion
in always original, and to the purpom On tho voyage*
to Egypt, he likod, after dinner, t-o fix on three or
four persons to support a pro|n:'i!in, and an Many lit
oppORO it Ho gave a subject, and the 4Iwuiw>ip
turned o questions of religion, thw tHffwtit kid
of ^ovtirnnu'iit., and tho art of war, Onu day, ho
asked, whether th planete wcw inhahltotl, On
Siothor, what wm tlici ago of tho world* Tlw.n ho
propood to consider tha probability of tlie
of the globe, either by water or by flw ; nt
time, the truth or fallacy of prr.onUiiifnf.', and tlu*
intorprotofcion of dreaifta, 110 vory fwtifl tf talk'
ing ol religion, In 1B08, ho convomod with Ko
bidxop of Minl.prllifi\ m rf thoology.
were two points on whieh they isottW ntfc git^\ vjjs,
that of hell, and that* of salvation out of tho |ml*^ f
tho church. The Emponr told Ji^cptihu- that IIP
diiputd like a tltwil on two (mini*, nu which
the bishop wns inexorable, T> tho phlhwuphiw hti
readily yioldod all that proved religion ON
the work of men and time ; but ha would not htiar of
materialiflitn* On Ini night, on dk, amid a platter
of materialism, Bonaparte pointed to tlwi atitl
aJdy " You ittity talk as l^ng KM you p!it% ^tintkntw^
but who inado ill that I" tin delights! in tho eoti-
voration of nwi of parUcukirlv rif
wd Borthollet ; lm the uion of lie j
vi.] NAPOLEON ; OR, THE MAN OF THE WOULD. 445
"they were manufacturers of phrases." Of ^medicine,
too, he was fond of talking, and with those of its
practitioners whom he most esteemed, Tilth Corvisart
at Paris, and with Antonomarchi at St. Helena. "Be-
lieve me," he said to the last, " we had better leave off
all these remedies : life is a- fortress which neither you
nor I know anything about. "WJiy throw obstacles in
the way of its defence 1 Its own means are superior
to all the apj&ratiis of your laboratories. T Corvisart
candidly agreed with me, that all your filthy mixtures
are good for nothing. Medicine is a collection of
uncertain prescriptions, the results of which, taken
coJhatively, are more 'fatal than useful to mankind.
Water, air, and cleanliness, are the chief articles in
my pharmacopeia,"
His memoirs, dictated to Count Montholon and
General Gourgaud, at St. Helena, have great value,
after all the deduction that, it seems, is to be made
from them, on account of his known disingenuousness.
He has the good-nature of strength and conscious
superiority, I admire his simple, clear narrative of
his battles ; good as Caesar's ; his good-natured and
sufficiently respectful account of Marshal "Wurmser
and his other antagonists, and his own equality as a
writer to his varying subject. The most agreeable
portion is the Campaign in Egypt.
He had hours of thought and wisdom. In inter-
vals of leisure, either in the camp or the palace,
Napoleon appears as a man of genius, directing on
abstract questions the native appetite for truth, and
the impatience* of words, he was" wont to show in
446 KK1MIKSKNTATIVK [vi.
war. H$ could enjoy ovory play of in \ntf.ion. a
romance, a bm mot, a well m a In it cam*
paiga Ho ddaghted to fascinate Jotwphmo and heir
ladios, in a dim-lightod apurtmi'nf, "by the terrors of
a fiction, to which his voice and dramatic power Imi
every addition,
1 call Napoleon the agent or attorney of t>lio middlo
class of modem omty ; of tho timing who fill tho
markota, ahopn, count in;; huu^vs tnat tilted iriwi, hlp%
of the moclam world, aiming to Jw rich, llo WM tlm
Mitotor, the ilo,si.ny'r of pp rnji'iim, t!s intf-roal
iinprov^r, the llbcirnl t the* radieal, the inventor of
means, tho oponer of doom aitd markotn, tlin tmbv^rUtr
of inonopt1y and abiwe. Of emirse thii rirJt anrl
aristocratic did not liku him. Knglattd, tho ci?tit of
capital, and iiome and Atwtria, c*4itriti of timiltittti
and genealogy, opjmiKHl him. The of
tho dull and coniwrvativo tho tiiirror of Um
foolinh old iniii anil old womon of t!m Itomnn mm-
clavo--who I thdr d|Mr hoM of airiytltiiig,
and would cling to rl4ifc ir*, flu^ vain iittiifii|>ti
of etatbits to amuno and dctceivo him, of tint tmitmror
of Austria to bribe him ; ami thi Sfwtind t if ttu* young,
iwxlon^ and aottve mon f cvn-$ whrrr, which fwlnteil
him out iw tho of tho midrib hi*
history bright and i'ww;m*lm^. llti IIAI! Uto vlrtinw
of the of hi* eonfttitumiU ; li^ had t* tiu*jr
vicw. I am rry tlmt thu briUitmt fiiitfw lu lu
rovormt. But that in tho ijimlity wltkli wi tli*.
eo?er In our pursuit of wtmlth, tlmti Jti i f n*?rli**r^n s,
wwl I* bought by Tim breaking or iv^li-j* 1 ^" tif littt
VI.] N \r*n,,M\ ; Oil, THE MAI OF THE WOULD* 447
mI it i inevitable that we slfould find
tho faflt In the history of this champion, who
pro|w8tl to himimlf simply a brilliant career, without
any nfcijmlatwn or naruplo << mourning the means.
wan ahttfukrly destitute of generous
Tim highest- pkoed individual in the
cnltivotml it#o ititd population of the world,
h<* has not tho morit erf common truth and honesty*
I If* lit unjtuit fc> lili ; egotistic, w4 monopo-
lwii|4; m*ily itailtiig tho omlit of tibeir great wtioinB
fftttit K'llrrmut, from Bt%rnaclotte ; intrigmng to in-
volvw Itii fMtlifnl tlttnofc in hopolaii '-bwxkraptoy, m
unkr U> itrivii him to a cliataae from Paris, because
the fatuiti.ivity of hit inatmtai offeads die new pride
<f lii thrnmo. He a boundless liar. The official
(Ntpc<f, hi* ** Mimit^uiv,** itad all his bulletins, axe
|irovi*rl fur what ho wiihed to bo believed j
miU tt'c^iv^f, ht> tt, lit tils premature old age, ia his
liuwtly euhily fttlsifjing d dates, and
itntl giving to hwtory a theatrical eclat
liikt^ all Fwiwlniwwi lii tas a pwsioit for stage effect
K\i*ty of gnEoroaity is poisoned
by ilii (mlralfttion, Hh te his love of glory, his
litw^irlite erf tho Immortality of tho soul, aro all Prenek
" 1 and If 1 ware to give the
lltw* rlf of tho my power could not last three
ilny** 1 To Hi.ilc a tfiviif, ioi,-:^ is Ws favouiit deiagn.
** A a ao ; die more there
In tiu fttrtlw off it is hoawl IAW^ institation^
nil Ml | bat tho noisi continues,
utitt it lifttir Htotlootrino of immor-
448 UKl'III'i-llVST \TI\T. [vi,
tality is slitply famo< Hin tliaciry of iriihimuu) i not
fluttering, "Thoro aro two lovora for tmwitig im*n,-
intercut and fiar, fawn w a Hly infatuation, defwrtd
upon it Friendship i but a mitia I love ttolxHly,
I tlo not even lovo my brothers : fiwltttfw *fcw|ili, n
lifctlo, froij|^Wi!nt, iwid Ix^iwiwi hu I my *Mi*r ; iwid
Durocj [ lots him too j but why I -lM'miHO hi ^h
tor mo : ho in utarn &ml ivmilnti\ ntul, 1
tlio, followrtuwr nhtwl a tor, Fur ifsy**fil 1 know
very ^i',ll that I liavo no trtw frl*?twk A li"n^ jut I con
tinise to b what 1 am, 1 may himm iirHrlnl
jffiewls ;r-; f plr;*'--. liimvn wiMtblliiy to wiiiiittii ; lii
itten siuHi! ! ! iinu m howi atu! |mr|KMM\ <r tliry
gliotilcl ha?e nothing to do with war and ;<>> '-num-n!.'"
Ha wa tiioroughly iiieri!|iiikitM, H wmild wtcul^
ulaiwier, awuwHinat.^ dmwit, Mill an hm
diotetedL Hi had no f^ntt'n,'ii> ; lint
hatred ; ha wai intonteiy ; ht* ww frrftdlmw ;
ho cheated at card*: hi w |rili i"u.
and |mn0d lottww j ami dolightful in itin infamoun
police ; wicl rubbed hi* hand* with j*>y wlnti ho li*l
iittece|ited mnm of iiitiIligi,ie^ I'
tho men and wom about him, that
knew t*vi'i'ythiu t v: ;" and interfwittl will* thw
the dreae of the wcimwa; and lintiified tho
hurraiut and tho u<im])tmu*iiU of . fil!
Hw nutnmm were ccre, H Iwati^l wmttini with
low familiarity. Ho had tlm hubit of fitillittn *i****f
, and piuchmg thuir wtuw Iw was in
r, axicl of {mlliiig the ww imd f m**t$,
aud of itrikiitg m hitr^ play wit It to hi* twt
VI. 1 NAK)tS0H ; OB, THE MAN Of THB WOBLtX 449
It mot appear that he HstenM at 1 key-
or, at that h was caught at it. In short,
when you have penetrated through a!3 the circles of
power ami aplendour, you were not dealing with a
gentlomaft, at last ; but with, an impostor and a rogue ;
and h fully the epithet of Jvjfa.8cqpw> or
a oti of Bcamn Jupiter*
In dottcritang the two parties into which
divide itB8U*-the democrat and the conser-
vatlve, I iftitl, Bonapwrto represents tibte Democrat
or tlii party of ttmu of business, against the stationary
or ooniHrvattve party. I omitted then to say, what is
to the tetem4 namely, that these two
differ only ts young and old. The democrat
in a young conncrvativ : the connervative is an old
Th iritoomt is th democrat ripe, and
to siM'il, Iwritusc both parties stand on the one
of tibt ftupreme value ol property, which one
to gdtj and t-ha otiber to keep* Bon.apart
limy bii to ntpwmmit tihe whole history of this
ite youth ad H ^e ; yea, and with poetic
it fate to his own, The, counter-revolution,
tint eottnter-pwty t Kt-ill waits for its organ and repre-
In * lover wd a man ol truly public and
titiiwiml aim*.
IItr w ^xp^ritnmit, under the most favour-
of the powuw of intellect witibout
Naver was uoh a leader so endowed,
&ttd no w:tponMl ; never leadw found such aids and
ffillowiiw. An* what w the result ol this vast
VW IV. <*
450 KBPItKSKNTATlVR [vt
talent ancS power, of thaao immense tmniwi, burned
cities, squandered treasures, immolated millions of
men, of this ^demoralised Europe f It eaxuo to no
result All passed away, like tho smoke of hit
artillery, and left no traco, Ih left Franc umaller,
poorer, feebler, than he found it; and tho whole
content for freedom f?m to be beguji again The
attempt was, in pnnriplr, suicidal Franco twrvod
Mm witlrlifo, and limb, and %t long as it
could identify itn intonate with him ; but whan mun
gj,w that after victory WM another war; alter fcho
destruction of armicwi, naw con,sr.rijtin; and thwy
who had toilod so clenpemtcily worn nv nr niwiwr to
til reward, they ciould not Kpond whal ihoy had,
OMrnod, nor repose on their d,0wn4di nor ntrut in
their chateaux, -they dtmirted him. Mew found
that his abiorhing doadly ti all ottior
men. It ronomblod the torttodo^ which Iiiflicfci a
ittcoewion of cm way ono who hold of Ii t
producing ipasaw which oontxiot tho of the
hand, that tho man cwaot hfa ; wid
the animal inflicts mw id mtiro violent
until he paralyse and Mlli his victim* 8<H tihfc*
oacorbitant < s ^oilst. uurrwod, im|K>veriHhtul and ftb*
aorbod the power and oxiatenee of who
him ; aacl the univorsal ery of J6*ntted t and of Etiitipt^
In IH14, witu t "immighof him;** w r/.rr ( A tl t <i->i f :'*r* 1t "
It wm not Bonaparto'a fault He did nil llmt in
Mm lay to live and thrive withtmt |rinri|I',
Jt WUH the nature r*f tbin^, the eternal law of
awl of the worik which baulkwl itiil rln**l him i
v!,j WAJPOLROK; OR, THE MAN OF THE WOKLB, 451
and tha mult* in a million experiments, will be
the Every ttxpenmenfc, by multitudes or by
individual*, that has a sensual and selfish "aim, will
fail The pacific Fourier will be as inefficient as the
pernicious Napoleon, As long as our civilisation is
one of property, of fences, of exclusive-
it will jw mocked by delusions. Our riches
will us sick; there will be bitterness In our
; imft our wino will bum our mouth, Only
which we can taste with all doors
opon, aiicl which all
VII.
GOETHE; OR, THE WRITER.
a provision, in the constitution of the world,
for the writer or secretary, who Is to report the
doings of the miraculous spirit of life that every-
where throbs and works* His office is a reception of
the into the mind, and then a selection of the
emlnaixt and characteristic experiences.
Nature will be reported. All things are engaged
in writing their history. The planet, the pebble, goes
attended by its shadow. The rolling roek leaves its
on the mountain ; the river, its channel in
the toll; flu) animal, its bones in th stratum; the
fttrit and leaf, thoir modest epitaph in the coal The
falling 'drop makes its sculpture in the sand or the
stone. Not a foot into the snow, or along the
ground, but prints, in characters more or less lasting,
a map erf its march Every act of the man inscribes
iteelf in the memories of his fellows, and in his own
ttwmitttu and face. The air is full of sounds; the
sky, of totem; th ground in all memoranda ami
Mgnaturen ; and every object covered over with hints,
which ipmk to th intelligent.
454 RBPKRSENTATIV1? MEN. [Til.
In natufe, this self-registration is incessant, and
the narrative is the print of the seal. It neither
exceeds nor ccftnos short of the fact But nature
strives upward ; and, in man, the report is something
more than print of tho oal It is a now and finer
form of the original The record is alive, as that
which it recorded is aljye. In man, th^ memory IH a
kind of looking glas% which, having received tho
images of Surrounding objects, is touehfd with life,
and disposes thorn in a new orclor. Tho facts which
transpired do not He in it inert ; but some mibflido,
and others shine ; BO that soon we have a new picture,
composed of the eminent oxpwirmm Tho man
co-operates* He loves to communicate; and that
which is for Mm to say lies as a load on hi* heart
until it is delivered. But^ bonidog the cuuvorsal joy
of conversation, some men are bom with exalted
powers for this gecond eruatton, Mm aro bom to
write. The gardener every % and aeed, mid
peach-stone : his vocation IB to be a plinter of plant*.
Not less does the writer attend hi affair. WhaUivar
ho beholds or experiences, oomott to him a* a model,
and sits for its picture* He counts it til
that they say, that some things ate iiulcweribable. H
believes that all that can be tliowglil eau IHJ wiitt^m,
first or last ; and he would report the Holy Cltioit, ir
attempt il Nothing so broad, !ilfcl% or 10
but comes therefore (xxtmuondfrl to his pt'ii,- uiul ho
will write* la his a mm is tit faculty of m*
porting, and the uuivcrwi is the pwiiMIity of
reported, la oonvematioiu In calamll^, Im new
viu] 00ITIIE ; OB THE WROTE. 455
!imtrifili ; w our German poet said, " sonfe god gave
mo the power to paint what I suffer," He draws Ms
from rage and paia By acting rashly, he
lmy$ the poww of talking wisely. Vexations, and a
tfmtpwt of piwkm, only fill his sail ; as the good
fittthor writ/1% "When I am angry, I can pray well,
Anil pra<*h fell;" and, if wf knew the genesis of
lino of toi (WHIM*, they might recall the com-
pluittiwo of* Button Anumith, who struck off some
iVwtttti fwiuitt, that hfe phymoian, Veaaliua, might se$
tli ia tlie muscles of the neck His Mhps
art) the preparation of his victories, A new thought,
w of potion, apprisea him that all that he
! yt kwiwid anil written is exoteric, is not the
fat hut rumour of the fact What then?
Iw tlirow away the pan 1 No ; he begins again
to dtiwrito In tlw new light which has shined 010
liiittiif by It may yet we some true
wtmi Nature eomplim Whatever eaa he thought
eitt to ijmlfti f and itill for ulturanco, though to
and .'lainiruTiii^ orgwia If they cannot oom*
ity It ami work*, until, at laBfc, it moulds
ttttfit to ltd perfoct will, and i artieulatecL
Thf itrlving after imitative oxpwtwJoii, which one
rsi'n \\li'h\ i igSftitant of the aim of nature,
Itttl w mure . Irno^raphy. Tharci arc higher degrees,
ami ttat.uro liiw IWOKI Dplmuiid endowmontft for those
i Itoni iilie olct* to ft wipeiior office ; for the class of
or wrltws, who nee connection where the
tnultitiud) m* fragntiit, and w|to are impelled to
exhibit tlw in onltin m & w to upply the axis
450 RBPKKSKNTATIVK MRK. [VIL
on whicn'ta frame of things turns, Nature ha*
dearly at heart the formation of the speculative man,
or scholar, If is an end never lost sight of, and i
prepared in the original casting of things* lie k wo
permissive, or accidental appearance, but an organic
agent, one of the estates of the realm, provided and
prepared, torn of olt}, and from wrli.-lm,":, in the
knitting and contexture of things Proumtittumttt,
impulses, <$ieer him* There in a cortdlfi heat in tins
breast, which attends tho perception of a primary
tputh, which is the shining of the spiritual Htm down
into the shaft of the mina Every thought which
dawns on the mind, in the moment of it* Hm't^'tirr
asonowees its own ranks'whether it ii whimny,
or whether it is a pow
If he have Ms incitomenta, them ii, on tit a othur
side, invitation and nwd enough of his gift Koowty
has, at all times, the w*t namely, of one
man with adequate powers of ttxprwtffcm to hold tip
each object of monomania in ite right relations The
ambitious and mereenary bring thalr Iwt new mtitiik^
jumbo, whether tariff, railroad, Itomaxtlimt,
mefimerisni, or California; and, % detaching tlui
object from its relatian% easily in making it
seen in a glare ; and a multitude go wad ahcmt It, and
they are not to be pr0?l or wired by the cp|ito
multitude^ who ore kept from this particular
by am equal fren&y on another erotehet But 1st one
mm haw the iftmpnilinsivr eye eta
ihiis Iwkted prodigy m it* right m<uA1uurhmnl and
, the illusion <f tibt
"vn.l GOKTIIE; <m, TH8 WHITER, 457
rewon of the community thanks the reafon of th$
monitor.
Tho scholar is tlio man of the age% but he must
also wiih with other men to stand woU with his con-
teuiporuruw. But there is a certain ridicule, among
ftuporfieial people, thrown on the scholars or cleriey,
which i d no import, unless the scholar heed it. In
t-liii country, the emphasis oi iHmvorsation, and of
public opinion, commends the practical mm ; and tho
Holid portion of the community is named witli signifi-
cant In every oirclo. Our poopl we of Bona-
fmrto*s opinion wm-iTnin^ ideologiste. Ideas &e
of social order and comfort, and at last
nmko ft fool of tho ponwnwor. It is believed tho
tmtoring a go of goods from Now York to Smyrna ;
or, tho running up and down to procure a company
of iiiltwrihtiw to nat agoing fi?e or ten thousand
or, the itgotlation of a oauoua, and the
tij: on the prejttdico and facility of country-
, U> Hftcuro thoir votes in Novemlmr, is practi-
tl tuitl commoiuiaUo.
If I wrp to compare action of a much higher strain
with a life of contemplation, I should not venture to
with tnuoh confidonce in favour of tho
Mankind haw *ueh a deep tako in inward
illuminatutti, that there is much to bo said "by tho
Iwrmit or monk in dwfonco of his lifn of thought and
A v-wrtnin partiality, a heaclinaw, twul loss of
i tho tax which all action nnwt jvay.
If yim liktv but you do it at your peril
tttti ttm trong for them? Show im a mm
4*58 REL'ttKHBNTATIVK MEN. [vu/
Who has fytod, and who hm not been the victim and
slave of Ms action. What they have done commits
and enforces them to do the same again. The first
act, which was to be an experiment, boeomos a sacra*
merit, The fiery reformer embodta* hiH aspiration in
some rite or covenant, ami he and his friends cleave
to the form, and lose the aspiration, 'IJhe Qiiaknr has
established Quakerism, the Hhakor lim cmtfibllihed hb
monastery and his dance ; and, although ouch prates
of spiri^ thoro is no spirit, but repetition, which i
anti-spiritual But whoro aw hi new thttign of Unlay 1
In actions of enthiwiasm, this drawback appears ; but
in those lower activities which havo no higher aitn
than to make us more comfortable ami more eowanll y
in actions of cunning, action* that steal on<l lio, mttionH
that diforco the apeoulatiivo from th pnwttlcal fwmlfcy,
and put a ban on reason ud tlinrn i*
nothing else but drawlnu-k unl nr;;i( ton. Tli IliiitltKw
write in iieir books, w (,3hiMrwi only, and not
the learned, apeak of the speculative ami tlwi pnicttitm!
faculties as two. They are but 0110, for both obtain
the self -same end, and the place which In by
the followers of the otto is gaiiuxl by tli follower
of the other. That man icsuth, who that llw
speculative and the proetkml art om*, M
For great action mut draw m the iwtttm
The meaittro of action 11 the mtnfcim^iit from wltklt
it proeeoda The action way bo OUD
of the most private cirowmitMtce.
This disparagement will not from tib
but from inferior 'persons. The
VII, J OOKTHK; OH, THE W1UTKK. 4&9
who itaiifl at the head of the practical classjshare the*
of tha time, and have too much sympathy with
the speculative) dam. It is not from mopt excellent in
any kind, that lispar;igimi i nt of any other is te be
looked for* With uttch, Talleyrand's question is ever
lite main one : not, ii ho rich 1 is ho committed ? is
ho has he thii or that f acuity $ is he
if tbfi iwwwatl is ho of the establishment ? but>
I* Im h stand for HomotWng? He
muftt he of hi kind That is all that Talleyrand
ill Street', all that the common sense of
mankind Bi imi and admirably not as w
kmiw, hut an you know. Able men do not care in
what kind a intin in alilo, so only that h is able* A
a inMter, and not stipulate whether
ii 1m or king.
Boebty hiw really no graver Interest Him the well-
of the Ilturtry Awd it is not to be denied
itwtt are eordial la their recognition tad welcome
iif mMWf u:it ;uvnmjlUmM'uis. Still the writer flow
ncit with tw on any commanding ground 1
think thta to h hh own fault* A pound P:USKS for a
|!iitiL TJwtti lutve becm tlmeu when hi was a caered
j hi wrote bihlea j ttw firt hymns ; the codas ;
the ; twgic ; tiihylline versos ; Chaldean
urtu'li^; Laeii!nit nentencsen, inscribed on temple walk
Kv*ry word ww true*, and woke the nations to new
life, He wrf4i without Iwlfcy, and without elioice,
Kv*ry won! earvitd before his eya& into the earth
t$4 tl ky ; ttnd the mm and worn only letters
of tlii jmnwrt, and of no Ao ttocowrity, Bat
480 EKPEKHKNTAT1VE MEN. fvif,"
can' Jie ,be honoured, whon h dott not honour
himself ; when ho IOBOS himsolf in this crowd ; wliou
he IB no longer the lawgiver, but the nycophont, duck-
ing to the giddy opinion of a reekleiw public ; whwi
he must sustain with shameless advocacy ome bad
government., or must hark, all tho year round, in
opposition ; or write con volitional rriti^iY-w, or pro-
tligato novels ; or, at any rate, writo without thought,
and without recurrence, by day and tf< night* to the
sources of innpinition f
Some reply to thwe qitcmtioiw iiuiy I
Gy looking over the Hat of men of litemry
our ago* Among thestt, no moro instrtit'tift!
occurs than that of Uoothn, to rnpri?wmt th
and duties of the scholar or writer,
I described Bonapaxio as a of UK
popular external life wad of tiie nineteenth cwt
tory Its other half, ite poet, i Oi)citli% it mm quitu
domesticated in the century, bwiafchitig iti nir, enjoy-
ing ite fruitSy iitipoiiibhi at any trlii*;r tJiiw\ mtrl
taking away, by his colossal parti, tha rtiprotwh of
wiuiknoBH, which) but for him, would Ito on tim int^I
lectual works of the poriocl* tin tit a tinr
when a general cultoe has ami tut*
smoothed <lowa all sliarp individual ; whtm in
the absence of heroic ft iwelftl e owtfoii *iid
(o-o[)c,r:iiion hftvo come in* Them ii no but
scores of poetic writers; no Oolnmbu., liitt limitlmrls
of post-captains, with traEiit-tel50|K\ }ar(indfr } mil
concentrated soup and pmnmifutt ; no
no Chatham, bufc^any numlxir of
vn.J GOETHE; OB, THE WRITER, 461
ary and forensic debaters ; no prophet or $aint, but s
colleges of divinity; no learned man, but learned
societies, a cheap press, reading-rooms, awl book-clubs,
without number, There was never such a miscellany
of facts. The world extends itself like American
trade. We conceive Greek or Eoman life, -life In
tho middle ag6f,"*-to be a simple and comprehensible
affair; but modem life to respect a multitude of things,
which is districting,
(loathe was the philosopher of this multiplicity;
hmnlwl-hatulttd, Argus-oycd, able and happy to cope
with thii rolling miscellany of facts and sciences, ana,
by his own vo raatility, to dispose of them wiiih ease ;
a manly mind, unembarrassed by the variety of coats
of convention with which life had got encrusted, easily
able by Ms subtlety to pierce these, and to draw his
itrcitgth from nature^ with which h lived in full
oontmunion. What is strange, too, ho lived in a small
U>wn f in a patty state, in a defeated state, and in a
tltttn whim Germany played no such leading part In the
world 1 * m to swell the bosom of her sons with
any metropolitan pride, such as might have cheered a
Fwich, or English, or once* a Eoman or Attic genius.
Yt thaw in no trace of provincial limitation in Ms
tmm Hts i not a dalitor to his position, but was
imrn with & fn* and controlling genius*
Tim nlontt or the second part of Fault*, ia a philo-
Hc>phy of litwatare net in pootryj the work of one
wlm found httiuwlf tha mat(,r of histories, mythologies,
, und national literaturos, in the
in whicH 1 modern erudition.
462 KKI'KKHKNTATIVK Jni
with its*|atematl0ttil intercourse of the whole earth's
population, researches Into Indian, Kfnwan, anil all
Cyclopamn qfify geology* chemistry, aatronomy ; am)
every one of these kingdoms assuming a certain twrial
and poetic character, by reason of tho multitude, ()
looks at a king with rovorenco; but If ono *houl<2
chance to bo at a eotigreas of kingft, the tsyo would
take liberties with wto pecti!iaritk m 1 ai?li.
axe not f ihl mixuoulotiA icings, but oMwrftto
to which tlw poet hits confidinl tho nistilte of <%hty
of obiwrY&tion, Thin roIliH*Uvo and eritiial
maka tho j)0^ni more truly lltti flower of thin
Mrua It dates iteull Still ho in a \wt, |>rf <rf a
proudor laurel than any nmionipnran, Attd, mwltsr
this plaguo of itnrrosro|H\H (for he to ite out
of every pore of liw kln) f tttrikw flw lnti*j> with 11
hero'i strength and
Tho woadcir of tho Iwk In Hs :<ujN*um- ittfi ( l!t;'*'n'r
In the moxtttnuim of thin wl^ tho wttd flit?
present and tlwilr r^llgtoii.!, polltica, mid
of thinking^ are dlasolfml into tttid
What iww mythologies mil through Itii lad 1 Thi
Qreiiks said tliat Ataxatuter wont s far mi CJacw;
Gootho won^ only tha other day, as far j mid oito stap
farther ho huoMttlixl, and brought
ThoFO ia a lu'urlrcbt'iTiu^ frooclom In bin
tion* Tim immmum horiason wtiiclt jounttiya with w
tewli iu majwty to fcrifk t and to of
and nocuurfty, as to notemtt ami
lie wan the iwtil/if bin nmtttry. If
i loarnetl, iuiil hftl b^'iHtit*, % imputation.
VIL] GOETHE ; OR, THE WRITER. 463
organisation, and drill o parts, one great Exploring
Expedition, accumulating a glut of facts and fruits
too fast for any hitherto-existing sava^s to classify,
this man's mind had ample chambers for the distribu-
tion of all. He had a power to unite the detached
atoms again by their own law. He has clothed our
modern existence with poetry. Amid littleness and
detail, he detected the Genius 01 life, the old cunning
Proteus, nestling close beside us, and showed that the
dulness and prose we ascribe to the age was only
another of his masks :
"His very flight is presence in disguise :
that he had put off a gay uniform for a fatigue dress,
and was not a whit less vivacious or rich in Liverpool
or the Hague, than once in Borne or Antioch. He
sought him in public squares and main streets, in
boulevards and hotels ; and, in tho solidest kingdom
of routine and the senses, he showed the lurking
daemonic power ; that, in actions of routine, a thread
of mythology and fable spins itself: and this, by
tracing the pedigree of every usage and practice, every
institution, utensil, and means, home to its origin in
the structure of man. He had an extreme impatience
of conjecture and of rhetoric. " I have guesses enough
of my own ; if a man write a book, let him set down
only what he knows." He writes in the plainest and
lowest tone, omitting a great deal more than he
writes, and putting ever a thing for a word. He has
explained the distinction between the antique and
the modern spirit and art. He has defined art, its
scope and laws* He has said th<f best things about
RKPRBBENTAT1VK MBH. [vn, -
ttM ever were said Ho waters as the
old philosophers, aa the seven wise nuuftera did,
and, with wlyitovr.r loss of French tabulation and
dissection, poetry and humanity remain to UH ; and
they have some doctoral skill Eyes arcs better, on
the whole, than telescopes or wirnwnprs. Ho him
contributed a key to many parts of nature, through
the rare turn for unfly and mmplieitf in hw mind.
Thtis Gtoe^he augmented the leading itljift of modern
botany, that a leaf, or the eye of a loaf, Ii the unit of
botany, and that every part of the* plant ii only a
tfiwujforaed leaf, to a neiw condition ; am^ by
varying the condition*, a loaf may be cnnverteti into
any other and wy othtr ttga ink* A Jif
In like mwmer, in oteol0gy f he muttu*;! that onn
vertebra of die spine might be thu unit
of the skeleton ; the head wm only tip ttfi[Ktrm<t*t
vertebra trattiforaaed, " Thi plant from knot tit
knot, olosing, at last, with thtt fiovwr ami tJii umtd.
So the tape-worm, the eatorpiltar, go from knot fei
and olosas with the hmwL Mm and thfi btgbiir
built up through the v*rtobni\ t!i {iiwew
being eoneentrated in the IwaA 1 ' In
ha rejected the artificial tiieory of &wl
oonsidarod that arery colour wtt tbn mixtimi of light
and darkntw in new im>p(riioit,^ It in rtmlly of ? ery
littie conseqtienee what tople Iia upon. Hfi
at every porsi and has A ^r,vifii<iftfi
toiwwk trafeh. He will what you my, !!<*
to be trifled with, and to bo tci itay avw
w>mo old wiftfi fable, thtt hitajhittl
vii,] GOETHE ; OR, THE WHITER, 465
of men's faith these thousand years. He ai'ay as weH
see if it is true as another. He sifts it !t am here,
he would say, to be the measure and judge of these
things, Why should I take them on trust 1 And,
therefore, what he saye of religion, of passion, of
marriage, of manners, of property, of paper money, of
periods of belief, of omens, of luck, or whatever eke,
refuses to be ^rgotten.
Take the^most remarkable example ^hat could
occur of this tendency to verify every term in popu-
lar use. The Devil had played an important part in
mythology in all times. Goothe would have no woM
that does not cover a thing. The same measure will
still serve ; " 1 have never heard of any crime which
I might not have committed," So ho files at the
throat of this imp. He shall be real; he shall bo
modem ; he shall be European ; he shall dress like a
gentleman, and accept the manner*, and walk in the
streets, and be well initiated in the life of Vienna
and of Heidelberg in iHiif), or ho shall not exist,
Accordingly, he stripped him of mythologic gear* of
horns, (sloven foot, harpoon tail* brimstone, and blue-
fire, and, instead of looking in books and pictures,
looked for him in his own mind, in every shade of
coldneMH, aolfUhneas, and unbHef that, in crowds, or
in aolituda, darken** over the human thought," and
found that the portrait gained reality and terror by
everything h added, and by wry tiling ho took
away, He found that the twcsnee of this hobgoblin*
which had hovered in shadow about the habitation*
of men, ever *ir,a there wara merit wa# pure intellect
voi,, iv, 2 11
40 intt'KKSKXTATivr,
, to always there Is a tendency, to tho
service of" the : and ho flung into literature, in
his MephiBtopfooloR, the first organic that lum
been added for somo tge% and which will rmnum as
long aa the Prometheus.
1 have m> dom#n to on tor into any niftlpls of hin
numerous work*, They conafot of tntn^liitiotus criti-
cism, dramiWj lyri, afid ov<ry othr flr.'rnpfion erf
po0m, llk^nty journala, nntl |HHriwi of
moa Vut 1 cttnnot omit to njwdfy lli
Wilhdim Mwtiw in a nwal in uv^ry tlwi
fimt of it kinflj cnllerl by It* ulttilrr-rii Uio only
delineation of modern iiorioty^-'iwi if othor novoln,
thwe of Scott far examples dimlt with rtiftf.iiinw mid
condition, thb with fcht jrifc of lifti It in a Uouk
over which wne veil I utill drawn* It in by
very intollixnt petwiM with wcwdut 1 and il^llnlif,,
It ia )>rrfrrn*d by to Hainli 1 !., n a work nf
geuiiia 1 ftuppows no Injok of Ilili i^utiiry n csorn-
paro with It in it* Ii4ii*It.nw iwe^tii*n f t naw t #
provokiii;; to tho liiliwl, gwtlfjilig It with c> liiiitiy
imd so Hoiid thought*, jttttt IiPi^lita Intu lifts *wd
tniiiui^rft, iiiiil fhttraclarn ; t nmtty g<iwl Itinf-n for tint
conduct cif lifii f many tuu i \j'i'lr1 iiiln 1$
higher i*hiin\ and nav,*r n trw, *il riiflitii or tltil-
iu*Hi A vitry pri\<lJjr twiiik to thw rini:4iy il
young nioti of ganhw, but it Vi*iy HMS
of light multrtg, irln* Imik in it fur tJf
t th**y fhid in a roiiMiit 1 !*,
On this otlttsr hund^lwtM* wli tlm
TO] GOETHE j OK, THE WEITBK. 467
hope to road in it a worthy history of getfius, and tlfe
just award of the laurel to Its toils and denials, have
also reason to complain* "Wo had an English romance
hero, not long ago, professing to embody the hope of
a new ago, and to unfold the political hope of the
party called " Young England/' in which the only
reward of virtue is a seat in parliament and a peer-
ago. Goethe a romance has a" conclusion as lame and
immoral fieorgo Sand, in Gonsuelo wd its con-
tinuation, has sketched a truer and more dignified
picture. In the progress of the story the characters
of the hero and heroine expand at a rate that shivers
the porcelain chew-table of aristocratic convention :
they quit the society and habits of their rank ; they
lone thoir wealth ; they become the servants of great
ideas, and of the most generous social ends ; until, at
last, the hero, who is the centre and fountain of an
asgocitttiou for the rendering of the noblest benefits
to the human race, no longer answers to his own titled
name ; it sounds foreign and remote in his ear. " I
am only man," ho says; "I breathe and work for
man*" and this in poverty and extreme saerificea
hero, on the contrary, has so many weak-*
and impuritioH, and koe.pa such bad company,
that the Robor English public, whan the book was
translated, were diBgitHtetl And yet it is so crammed
with window, with kuowlodgo of the world, and with
knowiwlgM of lawn ; the prisons BO truly and subtly
drawn, and with uoh few strokes, and not a word
too much, the book remains ever BO new and iin-
d, tlmt we imwt oven ttt it go its way, and
468 KBIMIKKKNT,VTW: MEN, [v.
to& willing" to get what good from it we can* assured
that it has only begun its office, and has itiilllotts of
readers yet to |erve.
The argument, is the paaaa^o of a dtmuwrat to th
aristocracy, using both words in their Ixwt wiwa
And tills piiMSiigo ia tiot itmdo in any moan or moping
way, but through tho hall door. Nature and character
assist, and the rank w &adt> rwaJ by Hondo and probity
in tho noljioH. No gwunwis youth a% twntpa thirt
charm of reality in tho book, MO that it is highly
Btimxilating to infclliw,t and couraj(i.
*Tho ardent, and holy Novulk chart^'inriMfut I hi*
book as " thoroughly mcniom and, prosjiii? ; th r*
mantic ia complutoly levdUnl in it j m> in tlw pmitry
of nature ; tho wonderful TIw lMik te*ftln only of
tho ordinary affair* of man : it w u. jwmlkwml civSr
and domestic story. Th wonderful In it In <-\\M\ ly
treated m fiction and onthtwiaatic dtitiittirig ; M -and
yet, what is also dmwpMnnil^ NovaliH mnm mtuntf*i
t-o this bookf and it wmaitiwl his favourite reading t*i
tlw end of hi lifii
What dwt ingni,sh( (Itwthti for Prttiwhatut Kii^li.*h
readcsre, IB a pruporf^ which ha iliAr with hi* nation,
-a habitual roforonoo to intnrior trutlt. In Kn^laitd
and in Amttrica thow w a for talnit ^ itml, if
It is escorted in nupfwrl of any Aftcurtniiiwt ir inttl
ligiblu intwiiftt or party, or in rej^wkr "jj t ,, tilnti f
any, tho public Is smtkfied, In Ifnuwe h
a greater delight In intttUecttutl brilliany fwr tti own
And in all acmntriw itit^i of
from teleai It i^cinmigli if th tti^l^i-f.ijidiii;* in
vii*] GOETHE J OR, THE WHITER. 469
occupied, the taste propitiated, &o manyleblumnB, db
many hours, filled in a lively and creditable way.
The German intellect wants the Frencjh sprightlinesa,
tho fine practical understanding of the English and
the American adventure ; but it has a certain probity,
which never rests in a superficial performance, but
aski* steadily, To wlmt end f A German public asks for
a con trolling Sincerity. Here 'is activity of thought ;
but what i it for? What does tho pan mean?
Whence, whence all these thoughts 1
Talent alone cannot make a writer. There uuwt
be a man behind the book; a jnu'sonalif.y which, 1>y
birth and quality, is pledged to the doctrines there
t forth, and which exiate to see and state tilings so,
and not othrwia ; holding things because they are
things. If he cannot rightly express himself to-day,
tho same things subsist, and will open thomsolvoB
to-morrow. There lies the bunion on MB mind,- the
burden of truth to be declared, -more or less under-
stood ; and it constitutes MB business and calling in
tho world to see those facts through, and to make
thorn known. What signifies that he trips and stam-
mers; that hia voice is harsh or burning; that his
method or his tropes are inadequate 1 That massage
will find method and imagery, articulation and melody.
Though he were dumb, it would speak* If nofy if
there be no siwh God's word in the maw, what care
wo how adroit^ how fluent, how brilliant lie is ?
It makes a groat difference to the force of any
sentence whether there bo a man behind it or no,
Iti tho leamo& journal, in tho itffluontial
470 UKI'UKSKNTATIVR MKN
IHiscern ncf form; only some irreHjwttHihlo
of toner some moniod corporation, or some dangler,
who hopes, In ijio mask and roliesB of Ina paragraph,
to pass for somoboily. But, through every clause
and part of speech of a right book, I moot the eyes
of the most determined of mow : Ms force and terror
inundate every word : tho cotiitntw and dafthon arc*
alire; so that tho writfiig is athlotie afd nimblti,~-
can go far awd live long.
In England and America one may Iw an adopt In
the writings of a Greek or Latin pout, without any
poftic taste or flra That a man has p<wt yearn on
Plato and Proelus does not afford a pnvumphVn
that he holds heroic opinions, or undervalues tho
fashions of his town. But the Gorman nation have
the most ridiculous good faith on thow wibjwts : th
student, out of the loctnro room, still bmodi* on tlm
lessons ; and the professor cannot divwt himwilf erf
the fancy that the troths of plrilonophy hnvo
application to Berlin and Munich* Tlif
enables them to outeee men of nmh mow talent
Hence, almost all the valuablo dittinctionut which are
current in higher conversation, have betm dertfiid to
us from Germany. Bul^ whilst men di^'int^jurhtMl
for wit and learning, in England and adopt
their study and their side with & certain levity,
and are not understood to be vwy deeply
from grounds of dbaraoter, to the topic or the part
they espouse, Goethe, tib head and body of tlm
Gkacman nation^ does not apeak from bnt the
truth shinos througfi : he is wry Itli
vn.] GOBTHK ; OR, THE WKITEK. 471
talent often veils Ms wisdom. Howevqp excellent
his sentence IB, he has somewhat better fh view. It
awakens my curiosity. He has tho formidable Inde-
pendence which converse with truth gives : hoar yon,
or forbear, his fact abides ; and your Interest m tho
writer is not confined to Ms story, and he tliBmissod
from memory when he has jxsrfonncd his task
creditably, a#a baker when lift has left his loaf ; but
his work is the loaat part of him, The old Eternal
Cteniua who built the world has ctmfiutul hiuiHolf
more to thi man than to any other, I dare not say
that Goethe ascended to tho highest grounds Imm
which genius has spoken. He htut not worshipped
the kighost unity ; he Is incapable of a self-surrender
to tho moral fwmtimout* There aro nobler attains in
poetry than any ho has sounded. There are writers
poorer in talent, whose tone Is puror, and more
touches the heart Qoethi can novor be clear to
men, His IB not ovon the devotion to pure truth \
but to truth for tho sake of culture. He ban no mm
large than tho conquest of univoraal natures, of
universal truth, to be his portion ; a man not to bti
bribed, nor deceived, nor overawed j of a Btoioal self-
command and self-denial, and having one test for all
num,~#%a{ cm yow tewtk vnef All poHM^ioim arts
valued by him for that only ; rank, prlvilr^^^, health,
tim, boing itaolf.
Ho i tho type of culture, tho amateur of all art%
mid science and evente; ttrtiBtic, but wot nHistj
spirituals but not spiritualist, Thwe is nothing lie
had not right to know j there m ao weapon in the
472 REPBKSBNTATIVJB MM. [vir.
armoury oi universal genius he did not take into his
hand, but "frith peremptory heed that he should not
be for a moment prejudiced by his instruments. Ho
lays a ray of light under every fact> and between
himself and his dearest property, From him nothing
was hid, nothing withholden. The lurking dff>mon
sat to him, and the saint who saw the dromons ; and
the metaphysical elements took form. l(< Piety iteelf
is no aim, but only a moans, whereby, though purest
inward peace, we may attain to highest culture*.
And his penetration of every secret of the fine arts
wll make Goethe still more statnoHqua His affections
help him, like women employed by Uicoro to worm
out the secret of conspirators. Enmities ha hm
nona Enemy- of him you may bo, 'if so you shall
teach him aught which your good -will cannot*
were it only what experience will aecraa from your
ruin. Enemy and welcome, but enemy on high temm
He cannot hate anybody; his time is worth too
much, Temperamental ontagonim may be miffared,
but like feuds of emperors, who light digmfiadly
across kingdoms.
His autobiography, under the title of ** Pootry and
Truth out of my Life/' is the expression of tfao idem,
now familiar to the world through the Gorman
mind, but a novelty to England, Old and New t whan
that book appeared, that a mm for culture ;
aot for what he can accomplish, Imt for what can Im
accomplished in him* The reaction of tilings on the
man is the only noteworthy result An Intellectual
man can see himself w a third person ^therefore km
ml GOBTHK; OR, THK W1UTKE. 473
faults and delusions interest him equally with ha
successes. Though he wishes to prosper In affairs,
ho wishes moro to know the history jwid destiny of
mint; whilst* the clouds of egotists drifting about
him are only interested in a low success*
This idea reigns in the IMAtung md P^ahrhdtj and
(lin&ta this wsbotioii of the incidents ; and nowise tho
external Imp^fknnco of events, who rank of the person-
itg, or the- bulk of incomes. Of cours^ tho book
aflbrclM Htandor materials for what would be reckoned
with UH a "Lif of (loathe ;" -few dates; no corre-
- pniiilrntv ; no dataikof offices or mnployinonto; noli^ht
on his uuirriugit; tiid a period of ton years, that should
1m tha active in his Hfa, after hift settlement at
Weimar, is nunk in ail(noa Maantinao, certain lore-
gfliiiw, that cama to nothing* as people say, have the
iiupfn-tanci 1 : he crow<ls UH with details:"
atrtiin whimiil opinion^ cosnid^uni^s and religioua
f hta own invention, and ('sporJiilly his relations to
remarkable mlnd% and to critical epochs of thought :
- ha magnifk*. Hi "Daily and Yearly JountaV*
Ilk * 4 Italian Tvk/ hi **0iuujni^i in France," and
tlwi liiitorieal part of his "Theory of Colours/* have the
interest In tha laat ho rapidly notices Kepler,
Ikeott, C'laliko, Newton, Voltaire, etc, j and
tiiti ohann of this portion of the book consists in tho
wlEttplfttft flt&tomont of the relation betwixt these
of Europoau sciantific history and himself ;
tins moro drawing of the limn from Goethe to Kepler,
fwm CltHitha to Raium, from Cloefcha t<> Newton, The
drawing of tki lino in for the^fcimo and parson, a
474 BBPliBSMTATIVE MM. [vii.
iolution ofrthe formidable problem, and gives plea-
sure when Iphigema and Faust do not, without any
cost of invention comparable to that of Iphigonia and
Faust.
This lawgiver of art is not an artist. Wm it that
he know too much, that his sight mm microscopic,
and interfered with the just p<Mwp<M i tiv<, tho soiling
of tho whole? Ho is fragmentary ; a f riter of occa-
sional poojas, and of an ouoyclopj^lia^f stmtontm
When he site down to write a drama or a tak ho
collects and sorts his observations from a hundred
sides, and combines them into tho body m fitly m he
can. A great deal refuses to uin rp< >r;U r i thk ho add
loosely, as letters of tho parties, leaves from their
journals, or tho like, A great deal still i loft that
will not find any plaea This the bookbinder ahum
can give any cohesion to : and honca^ ttotwitliatamlmg
the looseness of many of his works, we havo volumes
of detached paragraphs, aphorinmH, mnkn^ ate
I suppose the worldly t^mc of his tales grow out of
the calculations of self-culture. It "wm tho infirmity
of an admirable scholar, who loved the world out of
gratitude j who know where libraries, gaUormft, archi-
tecture, laboratories, savans, arid loisuro, wora to Iw
had, and who did not qnito trust thd rowpi-n-^tmn'i
of poverty and nakedness* Socrates loved Athmis ;
Montaigne^ Paris; awl Madame do Btiwil BttH she
was only vukerablo on that side (namely, of Paris),
It has its favourable aspacl All the are
usually so ill-assorted aixd sickly, that w f ovr
wishmg them somevrhere eke. We stfdotn seo aay
vn.] GOETHB; Oil, THE WKITEE. 475
body who Is not uneasy or afraid to live. There is '4
slight blush of shame on the check of gofld mon and
aspiring men, and a spice of caricature. But this
man was entirely at home and happy in his century
and the world. Nona wan so fit to live, or more
he&rtily en Joyed the game. In tins aim of culture,
which is fchti genius of Ms work% is their power. The
idea ol abaoNLto, eternal trail, without reference to
my own eml^gotnent by it> is higher. The surrender
to this torrent of jKwtic inspiration h higher; but,
rompurwl with any motives on which books are
writtim in England and America, this is very truAh,
and has the power to itwpira which belongs to truth.
Thus htut ho brought bade to a book some of its
ancitmt might and dignity.
Goeth<v coming into ait over -civilised time and
cotitktry t when original talent was oppressed under
tho load of book and mechaxucal auxiliaries and the
diitodmg variety of claima, taught men how to dis-
of tliis mountainous misealkuy, and make it
wutmorviont I join Napoloon with Ii5x M being
both rftpreuentativett of the impatience and roaetion of
imtiire against the morgut of conventions'two stem
who, with their scholiirs, havo sevorally set
Ihii axil at tlia root of the of eaiit and Booming,
for tluK time, and for all tima This cheerful labourer,
with no ttxteial popularity or provocation^ drawing
hi* motivo iitd IUH plan from his own breast, tiwked
himself with stints for a giant, and* without relaxation
or rt except by alternating his pursuits, worked on
for ttighty ye* with the steadtmss of his first zeal
476 HBPRBSENTATIVE MEN, OIL
It is tine last lesson of modern science, that the
highest simplicity of structure is produced, not by
few elements, but by the highest complexity. Man
is the most composite of all creatures ; the wheel-
insect, volvox ffUator 3 IB at the other extreme. We
shall learn io draw rents and revenues from the
immense patrimony of the old and the recent ages.
Goethe teaches courafe and the eqmt^Ionco of all
times ; th^t the disadvantages of anj^ epoch oxist
only to the faint-hearted Genius hovers with hi*
sunshine and music clone by the darkest and deafest
ems, No mortgage, no attainder, will hold on men
or hours. The world is young: the former great
men call to us affectionately. We too nwat write
Bibles, to unite again the heavens and tho earthly
world. The secret of genius Is to suffer no fiction to
exist for us ; to realise all that we know ; in tho high
refinement of modem life, in in science*, in
books, in men, to exact good faith, reality, and a
purpose; and first, last, midst, and. without end, to
honour every truth by use
BND OF VOL.
