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diff --git a/18862-h/18862-h.htm b/18862-h/18862-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..37d3da5 --- /dev/null +++ b/18862-h/18862-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12769 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Uncollected Writings of Thomas De Quincey, Volume I + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: 40%; font-size: 70%; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i17 {display: block; margin-left: 17em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Uncollected Writings of Thomas de +Quincey--Vol. 1, by Thomas de Quincey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Uncollected Writings of Thomas de Quincey--Vol. 1 + With a Preface and Annotations by James Hogg + +Author: Thomas de Quincey + +Editor: James Hogg + +Release Date: July 18, 2006 [EBook #18862] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOMAS DE QUINCEY *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Connal, Paul Good and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at +http://gallica.bnf.fr) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<a href="images/image01h.jpg"> +<img src="images/image01.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="(handwritten) Very truly yours, Thomas de Quincey." title="" /> +</a></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>THE UNCOLLECTED WRITINGS</h2> +<h5>OF</h5> +<h1>THOMAS DE QUINCEY.</h1> +<p><br /></p> +<h5>WITH</h5> +<h3>A PREFACE AND ANNOTATIONS</h3> +<h5>BY</h5> +<h4>JAMES HOGG.</h4> +<hr style='width: 20%;' /> +<h5>IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I.</h5> + + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/image02.jpg" width="80" height="107" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h4>LONDON:</h4> +<h3>SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO.,</h3> +<h4>PATERNOSTER SQUARE.</h4> + +<h4>1890.</h4> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,<br /> +London & Bungay.</span></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg v]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="v" id="v"></a>PREFACE.</h2> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>'<i>The last fruit off an old tree!</i>' This, in the words +of <span class="smcap">Walter Savage Landor</span>, is what I have now the +honour to set before the public in these hitherto +'<span class="smcap">Uncollected Writings of Thomas De Quincey.</span>'</p> + +<p>It was my privilege to be associated intimately +with the Author some thirty to forty years ago—from +the beginning of 1850 until his death in 1859.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> +Throughout the whole period during which he was +engaged in preparing for the Press his <i>Selections +Grave and Gay</i>, I assisted in the task.</p> + +<p>Of the singularly pleasant literary intercourse of +that memorable time I have given some reminiscences +in <i>Harper's Magazine</i> for this month. I may yet +combine in a Volume with these some amusing, +scholarly letters in my possession, and a Selection of +Papers from the original sources, which I feel warranted, +by the Author's own estimate, in calling <i>De +Quincey's Choice Works</i>. Meantime, in dealing with +the various Essays and Stories here gathered together, +I limit myself to such notes as are necessary to point<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg vi]</a></span> +out the special circumstances under which some of +the papers were written; in others the nature of +the evidence I have found as to the indisputable +authorship.</p> + +<p>My special opportunities, derived from constant +companionship and the continuous discussion with <span class="smcap">De +Quincey</span> of matters concerning his writings, gave me +the key to some of the admirable papers here reprinted. +It also entitles me to say, that he would have included +a number of them in his Collected Works alongside +the <i>Suspiria de Profundis</i> (Sighs from the Depths), +had he lived to continue his labours.</p> + +<p>When we find that most part of the <i>Suspiria</i>—perhaps +the highest reach of his intellect in impassioned +power—did not appear in the <i>Selections</i> at all, the +reader will at once understand that, in the Author's +own opinion, the Essays and Stories now first collected, +were neither less dignified in purpose nor less finished +in style than those which had passed under his hand +in the fourteen volumes he nearly completed. Rather +like the <i>Suspiria</i>, some of these papers were reserved +as material upon the revision of which his energy +might be fitly bestowed when health would permit.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The interesting papers which appeared in <i>Tait's +Magazine</i> are all duly vouched for in that periodical. +I have not touched any of the autobiographical matter +which appeared in <i>Tait</i>,—the Author having recast +that as well as the <i>Sketches from Childhood</i>, published +in <i>The Instructor</i> in the 'Autobiographic Sketches'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg vii]</a></span> +with which he opened the <i>Selections</i>. <i>The Casuistry +of Duelling</i>, indeed, appeared in <i>Tait</i> as part of the +Autobiographic Series, but, practically, it stood as an +independent paper. The touching personal passage +in this article reveals the misery caused by the +unbridled scurrility of certain notorious publications +of the last generation.</p> + +<p>The paper on <i>The German Language</i> appeared in +<i>Tait</i> in June 1836, and the <i>Brief Appraisal of Greek +Literature</i> in December 1838 and June 1839.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Two long and valuable papers on <i>Education; +Plans for the Instruction of Boys in Large Numbers</i>, +which appeared in <i>The London Magazine</i> for April +and May, 1824, were duly authenticated by the +following characteristic letter from <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> to +<span class="smcap">Christopher North</span>. It appears in <i>Professor Wilson's +Life</i>, written by his daughter, <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gordon</span>:—</p> + +<p>'<i>London, Thursday, February 24th, 1825.</i></p> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">My dear Wilson</span>,</p> + +<p>'I write to you on the following occasion:—Some +time ago, perhaps nearly two years ago, Mr. +Hill, a lawyer, published a book on Education, detailing +a plan on which his brothers had established a +school at Hazlewood, in Warwickshire. This book I +reviewed in the <i>London Magazine</i>, and in consequence +received a letter of thanks from the Author, who, on +my coming to London about midsummer last year, +called on me. I have since become intimate with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg viii]</a></span> +him, and, excepting that he is a sad Jacobin (as I am +obliged to tell him once or twice a month), I have +no one fault to find with him, for he is a very clever, +amiable, good creature as ever existed; and in particular +directions his abilities strike me as really very +great indeed. Well, his book has just been reviewed +in the last <i>Edinburgh Review</i> (of which some copies +have been in town about a week). This service has +been done him, I suppose, <i>through</i> some of his political +friends—(for he is connected with Brougham, Lord +Lansdowne, old Bentham, etc.),—but I understand +<i>by</i> Mr. Jeffrey. Mr. Hill, in common with multitudes +in this Babylon—who will not put their trust +in Blackwood as in God (which, you know, he ought +to do)—yet privately adores him as the Devil; and +indeed publicly too, is a great <i>prôneur</i> of Blackwood. +For, in spite of his Jacobinism, he is liberal and +inevitably just to real wit. His fear is—that Blackwood +may come as Nemesis, and compel him to +regorge any puffing and cramming which Tiff has +put into his pocket, and is earnest to have a letter +addressed in an influential quarter to prevent this. +I alleged to him that I am not quite sure but it is an +affront to a Professor to presume that he has any +connection as contributor, or anything else, to any +work which he does not publicly avow as his organ +for communicating with the world of letters. He +answers that it would be so in him,—but that an old +friend may write <i>sub rosa</i>. I rejoin that I know not +but you may have cut Blackwood—even as a subscriber—a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg ix]</a></span> +whole lustrum ago. He rebuts, by urging +a just compliment paid to you, as a supposed contributor, +in the <i>News of Literature and Fashion</i>, but +a moon or two ago. Seriously, I have told him that +I know not what was the extent of your connection +with Blackwood at <i>any</i> time; and that I conceive +the labours of your Chair in the University must +now leave you little leisure for any but occasional +contributions, and therefore for no regular cognizance +of the work as director, etc. However, as all that +he wishes—is simply an interference to save him from +any very severe article, and not an article in his +favour, I have ventured to ask of you if you hear +of any such thing, to use such influence as must +naturally belong to you in your general character +(whether maintaining any connection with Blackwood +or not) to get it softened. On the whole, I +suppose no such article is likely to appear. But to +oblige Hill I make the application. He has no <i>direct</i> +interest in the prosperity of Hazlewood; he is himself +a barrister in considerable practice, and of some +standing, I believe; but he takes a strong paternal +interest in it, all his brothers (who are accomplished +young men, I believe) being engaged in it. They +have already had one shock to stand: a certain Mr. +Place, a Jacobin friend of the School till just now, +having taken the pet with it—and removed his sons. +Now this Mr. Place, who was formerly a tailor—leather-breeches +maker and habit-maker,—having +made a fortune and finished his studies,—is become<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg x]</a></span> +an immense authority as a political and reforming +head with Bentham, etc., as also with the <i>Westminster +Review</i>, in which quarter he is supposed to have the +weight of nine times nine men; whence, by the way, +in the "circles" of the booksellers, the Review has +got the name of the <i>Breeches Review</i>.' ... [The +writer then passes on to details of his own plans and +prospects, and thus concludes.]</p> + +<p>'I beg my kind regards to Mrs. Wilson and my +young friends, whom I remember with so much +interest as I last saw them at Elleray.—I am, my +dear Wilson,</p> + +<p> +'Very affectionately yours,<br /> +'<span class="smcap">Thomas De Quincey.</span>'<br /> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>In approaching the consideration of other papers +said, in various quarters (with some show of authority) +to have been written by <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>, it was necessary +to act with extreme care. One was a painstaking +list on the whole, but very inaccurate as regards +certain contributions attributed to <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> in +<i>Blackwood</i>. I have had the kind aid of <span class="smcap">Messrs. +Blackwood</span> in examining the archives of <i>Maga</i> to +settle the points in question.</p> + +<p>I was puzzled by some papers in <i>The London +Magazine</i> set down as <span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> contributions +in a memorandum said to have been furnished by +<span class="smcap">Messrs. Taylor</span> and <span class="smcap">Hessey</span>, its Publishers. The +<i>Blackwood</i> blunders made me very sceptical. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg xi]</a></span> +was one story in particular—the long droll one +of <i>Mr. Schnackenberger; or, Two Masters to one +Dog</i>, about which I remained in doubt.</p> + +<p>I had a faint recollection that one day <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> +dwelt on the merits of '<span class="smcap">Juno</span>,' and owned the story +when he was discussing 'bull-dogs.'</p> + +<p>By the way, he was rather fond of 'bull-dogs,' +and had some good anecdotes about them. It was a +kind of pet-admiration-horror which he shared with +<span class="smcap">Southey</span>, on account of the difficulty in making a +well-bred bull-dog relax his grip. Some member of +the canine 'fancy' down at the Lakes had given them +a so-called infallible 'tip' for making a bull-dog let +go. I am sorry to say I have quite forgotten this +admirable receipt. To be sure, one ought never to +forget such valuable pieces of information. So I +thought one day lately before the muzzling order +came into force, when a bloodthirsty monster,—a big, +white bull-dog, sprang suddenly at me in Cleveland +Gardens. Instantly there flashed the thought—what +was it that <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> recommended? A +lucky lunge which drove the ferule of my umbrella +down the brute's throat fortunately created a +diversion, and allowed a little more time for the +study of the problem. Perhaps I will be pardoned +this digression, as it affords an opportunity of recording +the fact that <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> and <span class="smcap">Southey</span> both +looked up to the bull-dog as an animal of very +decided 'character.'</p> + +<p>I was loth to abandon <i>Mr. Schnackenberger</i>, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg xii]</a></span> +unwilling to lean too much on my somewhat +hazy remembrance. It seemed almost hopeless to +obtain the necessary evidence. <span class="smcap">Messrs. Taylor</span> and +<span class="smcap">Hessey</span> were long dead, and after groping about like +a detective, no one could tell me what had become +of the records of <i>The London Magazine</i>. Suddenly +there came light in October last. I ascertained that a +son of one of the Publishers is the <span class="smcap">Archdeacon</span> of +<span class="smcap">Middlesex</span>, the Venerable <span class="smcap">J. A. Hessey, D.C.L.</span></p> + +<p>I stated the case, and the worthy <span class="smcap">Archdeacon</span> +came most kindly and promptly to my assistance. +As a boy he remembered <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> at his +father's house, and recollected very well reading <i>Mr. +Schnackenberger</i>. He informed me, 'I was greatly +interested in the [London] Magazine generally, so +much so, that, at my father's request, I copied from +his private list, and attached to the head of each +paper the name of the Author.... This interesting +set came to me at my father's death.'</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Hessey</span> had subsequently presented the series +to his old pupil, <span class="smcap">Mr. William Carew Hazlitt</span> (by +whose courtesy I have been able to examine it)—'the +grandson of <span class="smcap">William Hazlitt</span>, who was a frequent +writer in the Magazine, and an old friend of my +father. I thought he would like to possess it, and +that it would thus be in fitting hands. I should not +have parted with it in favour of any but a man like +<span class="smcap">Mr. Hazlitt</span>, who was sure to value it.'</p> + +<p>As these valuable annotations of the <span class="smcap">Archdeacon</span> +ramify in various directions—touching as they do the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg xiii]</a></span> +contributions of many brilliant men of that period—it +may not be amiss (as a possible help to others in +the future) to add a few more decisive words by +<span class="smcap">Dr. Hessey</span>:—</p> + +<p>'If any papers are not marked (he refers only to +those volumes actually published by <span class="smcap">Messrs. Taylor</span> +and <span class="smcap">Hessey</span>) it was because they were anonymous, +or because, from some inadvertency, they were not +assigned in my father's list. <i>So far as the record goes, +it may be depended upon.</i>'</p> + +<p>By its help I was able to fix the authorship by +<span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> of (1) <i>The Dog Story</i>—translated from +the German, (2) <i>Moral Effects of Revolutions</i>, (3) +<i>Prefigurations of Remote Events</i>, (4) <i>Abstract of +Swedenborgianism by Immanuel Kant</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Another perplexing element was the letter written +by <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> to his uncle, <span class="smcap">Colonel Penson</span>, in +1819 (<span class="smcap">Page's</span> <i>Life</i>, vol. i. p. 207), wherein reference +is made to certain contributions to <i>Blackwood's +Magazine</i> and <i>The Quarterly Review</i>.</p> + +<p>The archives of <i>Maga</i> I find go back only as far +as 1825. As to <i>The Quarterly Review</i>, I have <span class="smcap">Mr. +Murray's</span> authority for stating that <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> +never wrote a line in it. Whether any contributions +were ever commissioned, paid for, and afterwards +suppressed, I have been unable to ascertain. As a +matter of fact, the <i>Schiller</i> Series referred to in the +letter to <span class="smcap">Colonel Penson</span> was never reviewed in +<i>The Quarterly</i> at all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg xiv]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> as a Newspaper Editor forms the +subject of a Chapter in <span class="smcap">Page's</span> <i>Life</i>. Some extracts +are there given from cuttings out of <i>The Westmorland +Gazette</i> found amongst the Author's Papers. This +editorship (1818-19) was of short duration, and pursued +under hostile circumstances, such as distance +from the Press, &c., which soon led to <span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> +resignation. I had hoped to add some further specimens +of the newspaper work, but have not, as yet, +obtained access to a file of the period. In any +future edition I may be able to add this in an +Appendix.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>The Love-Charm.</i>—In spite of the marvellous +tenacity of <span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> memory, even as to the +very words of a passage in an Author which he +had, perhaps, only <i>once</i> read, there were <i>blanks</i> +which confounded himself. One of these bore on +his contributions to <span class="smcap">Knight's</span> <i>Quarterly Magazine</i>. +<span class="smcap">Mr. Fields</span> had been so generally careful in obtaining +sufficient authority for what he published, +in the original American edition, that <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> +good-humouredly gave the verdict against himself, +and 'supposed he <i>must</i> be wrong' in thinking that +some of these special papers were not from his pen. +Still,—he demurred, and before including them in +<i>The Selections Grave and Gay</i>, it was resolved to +institute an inquiry. Accordingly, about 1852, I +was deputed to interview <span class="smcap">Mr. Charles Knight</span>, +and request his aid. My mission was to obtain, if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg xv]</a></span> +possible, a correct list of the various contributions to +the <i>Quarterly Magazine</i>, including this <i>Love-Charm</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Knight, Mr. Ramsay</span> (his first lieutenant, as he +called him), and myself all met at Fleet Street, where +we had the archives of the old <i>Quarterly Magazine</i> +turned up, and a list checked. I lately found this +particular story also referred to circumstantially in +the annexed paragraph contained in <span class="smcap">Charles Knight's</span> +<i>Passages of a Working Life</i> (<span class="smcap">Thorne's</span> re-issue, vol. I. +chap. x. p. 339).</p> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> had written to me in December 1824, +in the belief that, as he expressed it, "many of your +friends will rally about you, and urge you to some new +undertaking of the same kind. If that should happen, +I beg to say, that you may count upon me, as one of +your men, for any extent of labour, to the best of my +power, which you may choose to command." He wrote +a translation of <i>The Love-Charm</i> of <span class="smcap">Tieck</span>, with a +notice of the Author. This is not reprinted in his +Collected Works, though perhaps it is the most interesting +of his translations from the German. In +this spring and summer <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> and I were in +intimate companionship. It was a pleasant time of +intellectual intercourse for me.'</p> + +<p>There is no doubt <i>The Love-Charm</i> would have been +reprinted had the Author lived to carry the <i>Selections</i> +farther.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The curious little Essay <i>On Novels</i>,—written in a +Lady's Album, had passed out of <span class="smcap">Mr. Davey's</span> hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg xvi]</a></span> +before I became aware of its existence. The <i>facsimile</i>, +however, taken for <i>The Archivist</i>, by an expert +like <span class="smcap">Mr. Netherclift</span>, shows that it is, unquestionably, +in the handwriting of <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>. I have +been unable to trace the '<span class="smcap">Fair Incognita</span>' to whom +it was addressed.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The compositions which were written for me when +I edited <i>Titan</i>, and which I now place before the +public in volume form, after the lapse of a whole +generation (thirty-three years, to speak 'by the card'), +demand some special comment, particularly in their +relation to the <i>Selections Grave and Gay</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Titan</i> was a half-crown monthly Magazine, a continuation +in an enlarged form of <i>The Instructor</i>. I +had become the acting Editor of its predecessor, <i>the +New Series</i> of <i>The Instructor</i>, working in concert with +my Father, the proprietor. In this <i>New Series</i> there +appeared from <span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> pen <i>The Sphinx's Riddle</i>, +<i>Judas Iscariot</i>, the Series of <i>Sketches from Childhood</i>, +and other notable papers.</p> + +<p>At that time I was but a young editor—young +and, perhaps, a little 'curly,' as <span class="smcap">Lord Beaconsfield</span> +put it. <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>, with a truly paternal solicitude, +gave me much good advice and valuable help, both +in the selection of subjects for the Magazine and +in the mode of handling them. The notes on <i>The +Lake Dialect</i>, <i>Shakspere's Text and Suetonius Unravelled</i>, +were written to me in the form of Letters, +and published in <i>Titan</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg xvii]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Storms in English History</i> was a consideration of +part of <span class="smcap">Mr. Froude's</span> well-known book, which on its +publication made a great stir in the literary world, +and profoundly impressed <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>.</p> + +<p><i>How to write English</i> was the first of a series projected +for <i>The Instructor</i>. It never got beyond this +'Introduction,' but the fragment contains some matter +well worthy of preservation.</p> + +<p>The circumstances attending the composition of the +four papers on <i>The English in India</i> and <i>The English +in China</i>, I have explained at some length in the +introductory notices attached to them.</p> + +<p>And now for a confession! The 'gentle reader' +may, perhaps, feel a momentary inclination to blame +me when I reveal, that I rather stood in the way +of some brilliant articles which were very seriously +considered at this period.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> was eager to write them, and I should +have been glad indeed to have had them for <i>Titan</i>, +but for a fear of allowing the Author to wander too +far from the ever-present and irksome <i>Works</i>. Any +possible escape—even through other downright hard +work, from this perplexing labour was joyfully hailed +by him as a hopeful chance of obtaining a prosperous +holiday.</p> + +<p>For a little I wavered under the temptation (Reader,—was +it not great?)—the idea of having a little +relaxation which would permit some, at least, of +these well-planned papers to be written. But I was +keenly alive to the danger which overtook us at last.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg xviii]</a></span> +We are daily reminded that 'art is long and life is +short.' I had already saved the <i>Works</i> from being +strangled at their birth in a legal tussle with <span class="smcap">Mr. +John Taylor</span>.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> My Father was at my elbow anxiously +inquiring about the progress of the 'copy' for each +succeeding volume. There were eager friends also, on +both sides of the Atlantic, pressing resolutely for it. +So—prudence prevailed, and we held as straightly +on our way as the Author's uncertain health would +permit.</p> + +<p>Thus it came to pass, dear Public, that you lost +some charming essays, while you gained the fourteen +volumes of the <i>Selections</i> which the Author all but +completed.</p> + +<p>Wherefore, seeing that you may possibly expect it +of me to make some use of my rare opportunities by +doing whatever I can in these matters, 'before the +night cometh,'—I have prepared this book—<i>ohne +hast, ohne rast</i>.</p> + +<p>I cannot close these few pages better than by +quoting some strong, just, sympathetic words which +appeared in two great reviews—one American, the +other British.</p> + +<p><i>The North American Review</i> said:—</p> + +<p>'In <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> we are struck at once by the +exquisite refinement of mind, the subtleness of association, +and the extreme tenuity of the threads of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg xix]</a></span> +thought, the gossamer filaments yet finally weaving +themselves together, and thickening imperceptibly +into a strong and expanded web. Mingled with this, +and perhaps springing from a similar mental habit, +is an occasional dreaminess both in speculation and +in narrative, when the mind seems to move vaguely +round in vast returning circles. The thoughts catch +hold of nothing, but are heaved and tossed like +masses of cloud by the wind. An incident of trivial +import is turned and turned to catch the light of +every possible consequence, and so magnified as to +become portentous and terrible.'</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>'A barren and trivial fact, under the power of +that life-giving hand, shoots out on all sides into +waving branches and green leaves, and odoriferous +flowers. It is not the fact that interests us, but the +mind working upon it, investing it with mock-heroic +dignity, or rendering it illustrative of really serious +principles; or, with the true insight of genius, discovering, +in that which a vulgar eye would despise, +the germs of grandeur and beauty; the passions of +war in the contests of the rival factions of schoolboys, +the tragedy in every peasant's death-bed.'</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> constantly amazes us by the amount +and diversity of his learning. Two or three of the +minor papers in the collected volumes are absolutely +loaded with the life spoils of their author's scholarship, +yet carry their burden as lightly as our bodies sustain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg xx]</a></span> +the weight of the circumambient atmosphere. So +perfect is his tact in finding, or rather making a place +for everything, that, while inviting, he eludes the +charge of pedantry.'</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>'It is scarcely to be expected that one who +tries his hand at so many kinds of pencraft should +always excel; yet such is the force of <span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> +intellect, the brilliancy of his imagination, and the +charm of his style, that he throws a new and peculiar +interest over every subject which he discusses, while +his fictitious narratives in general rivet the attention +of the reader with a power not easily resisted.'</p> + +<p><i>The Quarterly Review</i> said:—</p> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> style is superb, his powers of reasoning +unsurpassed, his imagination is warm and +brilliant, and his humour both masculine and delicate.'</p> + +<p>The writer continues:—</p> + +<p>'A great master of English composition, a critic of +uncommon delicacy, an honest and unflinching investigator +of received opinions, a philosophic inquirer—<span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> +has departed from us full of years, and +left no successor to his rank. The exquisite finish of +his style, with the scholastic vigour of his logic, form +a combination which centuries may never reproduce, +but which every generation should study as one of +the marvels of English Literature.'</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">James Hogg</span>.<br /> +<br /> +<i>London, February, 1890.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="TOC" id="TOC"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4" summary="Table Of Contents"> + +<tr><td></td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td>PREFACE</td> <td align="right"><a href="#v">v</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>A BRIEF APPRAISAL OF THE GREEK LITERATURE +IN ITS FOREMOST-PRETENSIONS</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>THE GERMAN LANGUAGE, AND PHILOSOPHY OF KANT</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>MORAL EFFECTS OF REVOLUTIONS</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>PREFIGURATIONS OF REMOTE EVENTS</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>MEASURE OF VALUE</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>LETTER IN REPLY TO HAZLITT CONCERNING THE +MALTHUSIAN DOCTRINE OF POPULATION</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>THE SERVICES OF MR. RICARDO TO THE SCIENCE +OF POLITICAL ECONOMY</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>EDUCATION, AND CASE OF APPEAL</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>ABSTRACT OF SWEDENBORGIANISM</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>SKETCH OF PROFESSOR WILSON</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>THE LAKE DIALECT</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>STORMS IN ENGLISH HISTORY</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>THE ENGLISH IN INDIA</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>ON NOVELS (WRITTEN IN A LADY'S ALBUM)</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_354">354</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>DE QUINCEY'S PORTRAIT</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td></tr> + +</table> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a></span></p> +<p> <br /></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="23" id="A_BRIEF_APPRAISAL_OF_THE_GREEK"></a>A BRIEF APPRAISAL OF THE GREEK +LITERATURE IN ITS FOREMOST PRETENSIONS:</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>By way of Counsel to Adults who are hesitating as to the Propriety +of Studying the Greek Language with a view to the +Literature; and by way of consolation to those whom circumstances +have obliged to lay aside that plan.</i></p></div> +<p><br /></p> + +<h3>No. I.</h3> + +<p>No question has been coming up at intervals for +reconsideration more frequently than that which +respects the comparative pretensions of Pagan (viz. +Greek and Roman) Literature on the one side, and +Modern (that is, the Literature of Christendom) on +the other. Being brought uniformly before unjust +tribunals—that is, tribunals corrupted and bribed by +their own vanity—it is not wonderful that this great +question should have been stifled and overlaid with +peremptory decrees, dogmatically cutting the knot +rather than skilfully untying it, as often as it has +been moved afresh, and put upon the roll for a re-hearing. +It is no mystery to those who are in the +secret, and who can lay A and B together, why it +should have happened that the most interesting of all +literary questions, and the most comprehensive (for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +it includes most others, and some special to itself), +has, in the first place, never been pleaded in a style +of dignity, of philosophic precision, of feeling, or of +research, proportioned to its own merits, and to the +numerous 'issues' (forensically speaking) depending +upon it; nor, in the second place, has ever received +such an adjudication as was satisfactory <i>even at the +moment</i>. For, be it remembered, after all, that any +provisional adjudication—one growing out of the +fashion or taste of a single era—could not, at any +rate, be binding for a different era. A judgment +which met the approbation of Spenser could hardly +have satisfied Dryden; nor another which satisfied +Pope, have been recognised as authentic by us of the +year 1838. It is the normal or exemplary condition +of the human mind, its ideal condition, not its abnormal +condition, as seen in the transitory modes and +fashions of its taste or its opinions, which only</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Can lay great bases for eternity,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>or give even a colourable permanence to any decision +in a matter so large, so perplexed, so profound, as +this great pending suit between antiquity and ourselves—between +the junior men of this earth and +ourselves, the seniors, as Lord Bacon reasonably calls +us. Appeals will be brought <i>ad infinitum</i>—we ourselves +shall bring appeals, to set aside any judgment +that may be given, until something more is consulted +than individual taste; better evidence brought forward +than the result of individual reading; something +higher laid down as the <i>grounds</i> of judgment, as the +very principles of the jurisprudence which controls +the court, than those vague <i>responsa prudentum</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +countersigned by the great name, perhaps, of Aristotle, +but still too often mere products of local convenience, +of inexperience, of experience too limited +and exclusively Grecian, or of absolute caprice—rules, +in short, which are themselves not less truly <i>sub +judice</i> and liable to appeal than that very appeal cause +to which they are applied as decisive.</p> + +<p>We have remarked, that it is no mystery why the +decision should have gone pretty uniformly in favour +of the ancients; for here is the dilemma:—A man, +attempting this problem, <i>is</i> or <i>is not</i> a classical +scholar. If he <i>is</i>, then he has already received a bias +in his judgment; he is a bribed man, bribed by his +vanity; and is liable to be challenged as one of the +judges. If he is <i>not</i>, then he is but imperfectly +qualified—imperfectly as respects his knowledge and +powers; whilst, even as respects his will and affections, +it may be alleged that he also is under a bias +and a corrupt influence; his interest being no less +obvious to undervalue a literature, which, as to +<i>him</i>, is tabooed and under lock and key, than his +opponent's is to put a preposterous value upon that +knowledge which very probably is the one sole +advantageous distinction between him and his +neighbours.</p> + +<p>We might cite an illustration from the French +literary history on this very point. Every nation in +turn has had its rows in this great quarrel, which is, +in fact, co-extensive with the controversies upon +human nature itself. The French, of course, have +had <i>theirs</i>—solemn tournaments, single duels, casual +'turn-ups,' and regular 'stand-up' fights. The most +celebrated of these was in the beginning of the last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +century, when, amongst others who acted as bottle-holders, +umpires, &c., two champions in particular +'peeled' and fought a considerable number of rounds, +mutually administering severe punishment, and both +coming out of the ring disfigured: these were M. la +Motte and Madame Dacier. But Motte was the +favourite at first, and once he got Dacier 'into +chancery,' and 'fibbed' her twice round the ropes, so +that she became a truly pitiable and delightful spectacle +to the connoisseurs in fibbing and bloodshed. +But here lay the difference: Motte was a hard hitter; +he was a clever man, and (which all clever men are +not) a man of sense; but, like Shakspeare, he had no +Greek. On the other hand, Dacier had nothing <i>but</i> +Greek. A certain abbé, at that time, amused all +Paris with his caricatures of this Madame Dacier, +'who,' said he, 'ought to be cooking her husband's +dinner, and darning his stockings, instead of skirmishing +and tilting with Grecian spears; for, be it +known that, after all her <i>not cooking</i> and her <i>not +darning</i>, she is as poor a scholar as her injured husband +is a good one.' And <i>there</i> the abbé was right; +witness the husband's <i>Horace</i>, in 9 vols., against the +wife's <i>Homer</i>. However, this was not generally understood. +The lady, it was believed, waded petticoat-deep +in Greek clover; and in any Grecian field of +dispute, naturally she must be in the right, as against +one who barely knew his own language and a little +Latin. Motte was, therefore, thought by most people +to have come off second best. For, as soon as ever +he opened thus—'Madame, it seems to me that, +agreeably to all common sense or common decorum, +the Greek poet should here'——instantly, without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +listening to his argument, the intrepid Amazon replied +(ὑποδρα ιδουσα), 'You foolish man! you remarkably +silly man!—<i>that</i> is because you know no better; +and the reason you know no better, is because you +do not understand <i>ton d'apameibomenos</i> as I do.' <i>Ton +d'apameibomenos</i> fell like a hand-grenade amongst +Motte's papers, and blew him up effectually in the +opinion of the multitude. No matter what he might +say in reply—no matter how reasonable, how unanswerable—that +one spell of 'No Greek! no Greek!' +availed as a talisman to the lady both for offence +and defence; and refuted all syllogisms and all eloquence +as effectually as the cry of <i>À la lanterne!</i> in +the same country some fourscore years after.</p> + +<p>So it will always be. Those who (like Madame +Dacier) possess no accomplishment <i>but</i> Greek, will, of +necessity, set a superhuman value upon that literature +in all its parts, to which their own narrow skill +becomes an available key. Besides that, over and +above this coarse and conscious motive for overrating +that which reacts with an equal and answerable +overrating upon their own little philological attainments, +there is another agency at work, and quite +unconsciously to the subjects of that agency, in disturbing +the sanity of any estimate they may make +of a foreign literature. It is the habit (well known +to psychologists) of transferring to anything created +by our own skill, or which reflects our own skill, +as if it lay causatively and objectively<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> in the reflecting +thing itself, that pleasurable power which in +very truth belongs subjectively to the mind of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +him who surveys it, from conscious success in the +exercise of his own energies. Hence it is that we +see daily without surprise, young ladies hanging +enamoured over the pages of an Italian author, +and calling attention to trivial commonplaces, such +as, clothed in plain mother English, would have +been more repulsive to them than the distinctions +of a theologian, or the counsels of a great-grandmother. +They mistake for a pleasure yielded by the +author, what is in fact the pleasure attending their +own success in mastering what was lately an insuperable +difficulty.</p> + +<p>It is indeed a pitiable spectacle to any man of sense +and feeling, who happens to be really familiar with +the golden treasures of his own ancestral literature, +and a spectacle which moves alternately scorn and +sorrow, to see young people squandering their time +and painful study upon writers not fit to unloose the +shoes' latchets of many amongst their own compatriots; +making painful and remote voyages after +the drossy refuse, when the pure gold lies neglected +at their feet. Too often he is reminded of a case, +which is still sometimes to be witnessed in London. +Now and then it will happen that a lover of art, +modern or antique alike, according to its excellence, +will find himself honoured by an invitation from some +millionnaire, or some towering grandee, to 'assist,' as +the phrase is, at the opening of a case newly landed +from the Tiber or the Arno, and fraught (as he is +assured) with the very gems of Italian art, inter-mingled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +besides with many genuine antiques. He +goes: the cases are solemnly disgorged; adulatory +hangers on, calling themselves artists, and, at all +events, so much so as to appreciate the solemn farce +enacted, stand by uttering hollow applauses of my +Lord's taste, and endeavouring to play upon the +tinkling cymbals of spurious enthusiasm: whilst +every man of real discernment perceives at a glance +the mere refuse and sweeping of a third-rate <i>studio</i>, +such as many a native artist would disdain to turn +out of his hands; and antiques such as could be produced, +with a month's notice, by cart-loads, in many +an obscure corner of London. Yet for this rubbish +has the great man taken a painful tour; compassed +land and sea; paid away in exchange a king's +ransom; and claims now on their behalf, the very +humblest homage of artists who are taxed with the +basest envy if they refuse it, and who, meantime, +cannot in sincerity look upon the trumpery with +other feelings than such as the potter's wheel, if (like +Ezekiel's wheels) it were instinct with spirit, would +entertain for the vilest of its own creations;—culinary +or 'post-culinary' mugs and jugs. We, the writers +of this paper, are not artists, are not connected with +artists. And yet, upon the general principle of sympathy +with native merit, and of disgust towards all +affectation, we cannot but recall such anecdotes with +scorn; and often we recollect the stories recorded by +poor Benvenuto Cellini, that dissolute but brilliant +vagabond, who (like our own British artists) was sometimes +upbraided with the degeneracy of modern art, +and, upon his humbly requesting some evidence, received, +by way of practical answer, a sculptured gem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +or vase, perhaps with a scornful demand of—when +would he be able to produce anything like that—'eh, +Master Ben? Fancy we must wait a few centuries +or so, before you'll be ready with the fellow of this.' +And, lo! on looking into some hidden angle of the +beautiful production, poor Cellini discovered his own +private mark, the supposed antique having been a +pure forgery of his own. Such cases remind one too +forcibly of the pretty Horatian tale, where, in a contest +between two men who undertake to mimic a pig's +grunting, he who happens to be the favourite of the +audience is applauded to the echo for his felicitous +execution, and repeatedly encored, whilst the other man +is hissed off the stage, and well kicked by a band of +amateurs and cognoscenti, as a poor miserable copyist +and impostor; but, unfortunately for the credit of his +exploders, he has just time, before they have quite +kicked him off, for exposing to view the real pig concealed +under his cloak, which pig it was, and not +himself, that had been the artist—forced by pinches +into 'mimicry' of his own porcine music. Of all +baffled connoisseurs, surely, these Roman pig-fanciers +must have looked the most confounded. Yet there +is no knowing: and we ourselves have a clever friend, +but rather too given to subtilising, who contends, +upon some argument not perfectly intelligible to us, +that Horace was not so conclusive in his logic as he +fancied; that the real pig might not have an 'ideal' +or normal squeak, but a peculiar and non-representative +squeak; and that, after all, the man might +deserve the 'threshing' he got. Well, it may be so; +but, however, the Roman audience, wrong or not, for +once fancied themselves in the wrong; and we cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +but regret that our own ungenerous disparagers of +native merit, and <i>exclusive</i> eulogisers of the dead or +the alien—of those only '<i>quos Libitina sacravit</i>,' or +whom oceans divide from us—are not now and then +open to the same <i>palpable</i> refutation, as they are certainly +guilty of the same mean error, in prejudging +the whole question, and refusing to listen even to the +plain evidence of their own feelings, or, in some cases, +to the voice of their own senses.</p> + +<p>From this preface it is already abundantly clear +what side <i>we</i> take in this dispute about modern literature +and the antique.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> And we now propose to +justify our leaning by a general review of the Pagan +authors, in their elder section—that is, the Grecians. +These will be enough in all conscience, for one essay; +and even for them we meditate a very cursory inquest; +not such as would suffice in a grand ceremonial<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +day of battle—a <i>justum prœlium</i>, as a Roman +would call it—but in a mere perfunctory skirmish, +or (if the reader objects to that word as pedantic, +though, really, it is a highly-favoured word amongst +ancient divines, and with many a</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i9">'philosopher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who has read Alexander Ross over,')<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>why, in that case, let us indulge his fastidious taste +by calling it an autoschediastic combat, to which, +surely, there can be no such objection. And as the +manner of the combat is autoschediastic or extemporaneous, +and to meet a hurried occasion, so is the +reader to understand that the object of our disputation +is not the learned, but the unlearned student; +and our purpose, not so much to discontent the one +with his painful acquisitions, as to console the other +under what, upon the old principle of <i>omne ignotum +pro magnifico</i>, he is too apt to imagine his irreparable +disadvantages. We set before us, as our especial +auditor, the reasonable man of plain sense but strong +feeling, who wishes to know how much he has lost, +and what injury the gods did him, when, though +making him, perhaps, poetical, they cut short his +allowance of Latin, and, as to Greek, gave him not a +jot more than a cow has in her side pocket.</p> + +<p>Let us begin at the beginning—and that, as everybody +knows, is Homer. He is, indeed, so much at +the beginning that, for that very reason (if even +there were no other), he is, and will be ever more, +supremely interesting. Is the unlearned reader +aware of his age? Upon that point there are more +hypotheses than one or even two. Some there are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +among the chronologers who make him eleven hundred +years anterior to Christ. But those who allow +him least, place him more than nine—that is, about +two centuries before the establishment of the Grecian +Olympiads, and (which is pretty nearly the same +thing as regards time) before Romulus and Remus. +Such an antiquity as this, even on its own account, +is a reasonable object of interest. A poet to whom +the great-grandfather of old Ancus Martius (his +grandfather, did we say—that is, avus?—nay, his +<i>abavus</i>, his <i>atavus</i>, his <i>tritavus</i>) looked back as to one +in a line with his remote ancestor—a poet who, if he +travelled about as extensively as some have supposed +him to do, or even as his own countryman Herodotus +most certainly did five or six hundred years afterwards, +might have conversed with the very workmen +who laid the foundations of the first temple at Jerusalem—might +have bent the knee before Solomon in +all his glory:—Such a poet, were he no better than +the worst of our own old metrical romancers, would—merely +for his antiquity, merely for the sublime +fact of having been coeval with the eldest of those +whom the eldest of histories presents to our knowledge; +coeval with the earliest kings of Judah, older +than the greatest of the Judean prophets, older than +the separation of the two Jewish crowns and the +revolt of Israel, and, even with regard to Moses and +to Joshua, not in any larger sense junior than as we +ourselves are junior to Chaucer—purely and exclusively +with regard to these pretensions, backed and +supported by an antique form of an antique language—the +most comprehensive and the most melodious +in the world, would—could—should—ought to merit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +a filial attention; and, perhaps with those who had +waggon-loads of time to spare, might plead the benefit, +beyond most of those in whose favour it was enacted, +of that Horatian rule—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">'vos exemplaria Græca,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nocturnâ versate manu, versate diurna.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In fact, when we recollect that, in round numbers, +we ourselves may be considered as two thousand +years in advance of Christ, and that (by assuming +less even than a mean between the different dates +assigned to Homer) he stands a thousand years before +Christ, we find between Homer and ourselves a gulf +of three thousand years, or about one clear half of +the total extent which we grant to the present duration +of our planet. This in itself is so sublime a +circumstance in the relations of Homer to our era, +and the sense of power is so delightfully titillated +to that man's feeling, who, by means of Greek, and +a very moderate skill in this fine language, is able +to grasp the awful span, the vast arch of which one +foot rest upon 1838, and the other almost upon the +war of Troy—the mighty rainbow which, like the +archangel in the Revelation, plants its western +limb amongst the carnage and the magnificence of +Waterloo, and the other amidst the vanishing gleams +and the dusty clouds of Agamemnon's rearguard—that +we may pardon a little exultation to the man +who can actually mutter to himself, as he rides home +of a summer evening, the very words and vocal music +of the old blind man at whose command</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> '—————the Iliad and the Odyssey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose to the murmurs of the voiceful sea.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p><p>But pleasures in this world fortunately are without +end. And every man, after all, has many pleasures +peculiar to himself—pleasures which no man shares +with him, even as he is shut out from many of other +men. To renounce one in particular, is no subject +for sorrow, so long as many remain in that very class +equal or superior. Elwood the Quaker had a luxury +which none of us will ever have, in hearing the very +voice and utterance of a poet quite as blind as Homer, +and by many a thousand times more sublime. And +yet Elwood was not perhaps much happier for <i>that</i>. +For now, to proceed, reader—abstract from his +<i>sublime</i> antiquity, and his being the very earliest of +authors, allowance made for one or two Hebrew +writers (who, being inspired, are scarcely to be +viewed as human competitors), how much is there in +Homer, <i>intrinsically</i> in Homer, stripped of his fine +draperies of time and circumstance, in the naked +Homer, disapparelled of the pride, pomp, and circumstance +of glorious antiquity, to remunerate a man for +his labour in acquiring Greek? Men think very differently +about what <i>will</i> remunerate any given labour. +A fool (professional <i>fool</i>) in Shakspeare ascertains, +by a natural process of logic, that a 'remuneration' +means a <i>testern</i>, which is just sixpence; and two +remunerations, therefore, a testoon, or one shilling. +But many men will consider the same service ill paid +by a thousand pounds. So, of the reimbursement for +learning a language. Lord Camden is said to have +learned Spanish, merely to enjoy Don Quixote more +racily. Cato, the elder Cato, after abusing Greek +throughout his life, sat down in extreme old age to +study it: and wherefore? Mr. Coleridge mentions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +an author, in whom, upon opening his pages with +other expectations, he stumbled upon the following +fragrant passage—'But from this frivolous digression +upon philosophy and the fine arts, let us return to a +subject too little understood or appreciated in these +sceptical days—the subject of <i>dung</i>.' Now, <i>that</i> was +precisely the course of thought with this old censorious +Cato: So long as Greek offered, or seemed to +offer, nothing but philosophy or poetry, he was +clamorous against Greek; but he began to thaw and +melt a little upon the charms of Greek—he 'owned +the soft impeachment,' when he heard of some Grecian +treatises upon <i>beans</i> and <i>turnips</i>; and, finally, he +sank under its voluptuous seductions, when he heard +of others upon <span class="smcap">DUNG</span>. There are, therefore, as different +notions about a 'remuneration' in this case, as the +poor fool had met with it in <i>his</i> case. We, however, +unappalled by the bad names of 'Goth,' 'Vandal,' +and so forth, shall honestly lay before the reader <i>our</i> +notions.</p> + +<p>When Dryden wrote his famous, indeed matchless, +epigram upon the three great masters (or reputed +masters) of the Epopee, he found himself at no loss +to characterize the last of the triad—no matter what +qualities he imputed to the first and the second, he +knew himself safe in imputing them all to the third. +The mighty modern had everything that his predecessors +were ever <i>thought</i> to have, as well as something +beside.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> So he expressed the surpassing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +grandeur of Milton, by saying that in him nature had +embodied, by concentration as in one focus, whatever +excellencies she had scattered separately amongst her +earlier favourites. But, in strict regard to the facts, +this is far from being a faithful statement of the +relations between Milton and his elder brothers of +the <i>Epos</i>: in sublimity, if that is what Dryden meant +by 'loftiness of thought,' it is not so fair to class +Milton with the greatest of poets, as to class him +apart, retired from all others, sequestered, 'sole-sitting +by the shores of old romance.' In other poets, in +Dante for example, there may be rays, gleams, sudden +coruscations, casual scintillations, of the sublime; but +for any continuous and sustained blaze of the sublime, +it is in vain to look for it, <i>except</i> in Milton, making +allowances (as before) for the inspired sublimities of +Isaiah, Ezekiel, and of the great Evangelist's Revelations. +As to Homer, no critic who writes from +personal and <i>direct</i> knowledge on the one hand, or +who understands the value of words on the other, +ever contended in any critical sense for sublimity, as +a quality to which he had the slightest pretensions. +What! not Longinus? If he did, it would have been +of little consequence; for he had no field of comparison, +as we, knowing no literature but one—whereas +we have a range of seven or eight. But he +did not: Τὸ ὑψηλον,<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> or the elevated, in the Longinian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +sense, expressed all, no matter of what origin, of +what tendency, which gives a character of life and +animation to composition—whatever raises it above +the dead level of flat prosaic style. Emphasis, or +what in an artist's sense gives <i>relief</i> to a passage, +causing it to stand forward, and in advance of what +surrounds it—that is the predominating idea in the +'sublime' of Longinus. And this explains what +otherwise has perplexed his modern interpreters—viz. +that amongst the elements of his sublime, he +ranks even the pathetic, <i>i. e.</i> (say they) what by +connecting itself with the depressing passion of grief +is the very counter-agent to the elevating affection of +the sublime. True, most sapient sirs, my very +worthy and approved good masters: but that very +consideration should have taught you to look back, +and reconsider your translation of the capital word +ὑψος. It was rather too late in the day, when you +had waded half-seas over in your translation, to find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +out either that you yourselves were ignoramuses, or +that your principal was an ass. 'Returning were as +tedious as go o'er.' And any man might guess how +you would settle such a dilemma. It is, according to +you, a little oversight of your principal: '<i>humanum +aliquid passus est.</i>' We, on the other hand, affirm +that, if an error at all on the part of Longinus, it is +too monstrous for any man to have 'overlooked.' As +long as he could see a pike-staff, he must have seen +that. And, therefore, we revert to <i>our</i> view of the +case—viz. that it is yourselves who have committed +the blunder, in translating by the Latin word <i>sublimis</i><a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> +at all, but still more after it had received new +determinations under modern usage.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p><p>Now, therefore, after this explanation, recurring to +the Longinian critiques upon Homer, it will avail any +idolator of Homer but little, it will affect us not much, +to mention that Longinus makes frequent reference +to the <i>Iliad</i>, as the great source of the sublime—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"> 'A quo, ceu fonte perenni,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vatum Pieriis ora rigantur aquis';<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>for, as respected Grecian poets, and as respected <i>his</i> +sense of the word, it cannot be denied that Homer +was such. He was the great well-head of inspiration +to the Pagan poets of after times, who, however (<i>as a +body</i>), moved in the narrowest circle that has ever +yet confined the natural freedom of the poetic mind. +But, in conceding this, let it not be forgotten how +much we concede—we concede as much as Longinus +demanded; that is, that Homer furnished an ideal +or model of fluent narration, picturesque description, +and the first outlines of what could be called +characteristic delineations of persons. Accordingly, +uninventive Greece—for we maintain loudly that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +Greece, in her poets, <i>was</i> uninventive and sterile +beyond the example of other nations—received, as a +traditional inheritance, the characters of the Paladins +of the Troad.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> Achilles is always the all-accomplished +and supreme amongst these Paladins, the Orlando of +ancient romance; Agamemnon, for ever the Charlemagne; +Ajax, for ever the sullen, imperturbable, +columnar champion, the Mandricardo, the <i>Bergen-op-Zoom</i> +of his faction, and corresponding to our modern +'Chicken' in the pugilistic ring, who was so called +(as the books of the Fancy say) because he was a +'glutton'; and a 'glutton' in this sense—that he +would take any amount of cramming (<i>i. e.</i> any possible +quantum of 'milling,' or 'punishment'). Ulysses, +again, is uniformly, no matter whether in the solemnities +of the tragic scene, or the festivities of the +Ovidian romance, the same shy cock, but also sly +cock, with the least thought of a white feather in his +plumage; Diomed is the same unmeaning double of +every other hero, just as Rinaldo is with respect to +his greater cousin, Orlando; and so of Teucer, +Meriones, Idomeneus, and the other less-marked +characters. The Greek drama took up these traditional +characters, and sometimes deepened, saddened, +exalted the features—as Sophocles, for instance, does +with his 'Ajax Flagellifer'—Ajax the knouter of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +sheep—where, by the way, the remorse and penitential +grief of Ajax for his own self-degradation, and +the depth of his affliction for the triumph which he +had afforded to his enemies—taken in connection +with the tender fears of his wife, Tecmessa, for the +fate to which his gloomy despair was too manifestly +driving him; her own conscious desolation, and the +orphan weakness of her son, in the event which she +too fearfully anticipates—the final suicide of Ajax; +the brotherly affection of Teucer to the widow and +the young son of the hero, together with the +unlooked-for sympathy of Ulysses, who, instead of +exulting in the ruin of his antagonist, mourns over +it with generous tears—compose a situation, and a +succession of situations, not equalled in the Greek +tragedy; and, in that instance, we see an effort, rare +in Grecian poetry, of conquest achieved by idealisation +over a mean incident—viz. the hallucination of brain +in Ajax, by which he mistakes the sheep for his +Grecian enemies, ties them up for flagellation, and +scourges them as periodically as if he were a critical +reviewer. But really, in one extremity of this madness, +where he fixes upon an old ram for Agamemnon, +as the leader of the flock, the αναξ ανδρων Αγαμεμνων, +there is an extravagance of the ludicrous against +which, though not exhibited scenically, but simply +narrated, no solemnity of pathos could avail; even in +narration, the violation of tragical dignity is insufferable, +and is as much worse than the hyper-tragic +horrors of <i>Titus Andronicus</i> (a play which is usually +printed, without reason, amongst those of Shakspeare) +as absolute farce or contradiction of all pathos must +inevitably be a worse indecorum than physical horrors<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +which simply outrage it by excess. Let us not, +therefore, hear of the judgment displayed upon the +Grecian stage, when even Sophocles, the chief master +of dramatic economy and scenical propriety, could +thus err by an aberration so far transcending the +most memorable violation of stage decorum which +has ever been charged upon the English drama.</p> + +<p>From Homer, therefore, were left, as a bequest to +all future poets, the romantic adventures which grow, +as so many collateral dependencies,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'From the tale of Troy divine';<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and from Homer was derived also the discrimination +of the leading characters, which, after all, were but +coarsely and rudely discriminated; at least, for the +majority. In one instance only we acknowledge an +exception. We have heard a great modern poet +dwelling with real and not counterfeit enthusiasm +upon the character (or rather upon the general +picture, as made up both of character and position), +which the course of the <i>Iliad</i> assigns gradually to +Achilles. The view which he took of this impersonation +of human grandeur, combining all gifts of +intellect and of body, matchless speed, strength, inevitable +eye, courage, and the immortal beauty of a +god, being also, by his birth-right, half-divine, and +consecrated to the imagination by his fatal interweaving +with the destinies of Troy, and to the heart +by the early death which to <i>his own knowledge</i><a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +impended over his magnificent career, and so abruptly +shut up its vista—the view, we say, which our friend +took of the presiding character throughout the <i>Iliad</i>, +who is introduced to us in the very first line, and +who is only eclipsed for seventeen books, to emerge +upon us with more awful lustre;—the view which he +took was—that Achilles, and Achilles only, in the +Grecian poetry, was a great idea—an idealised +creation; and we remember that in this respect he +compared the Homeric Achilles with the Angelica of +Ariosto. Her only he regarded as an idealisation in +the <i>Orlando Furioso</i>. And certainly in the luxury +and excess of her all-conquering beauty, which drew +after her from 'ultimate Cathay' to the camps of the +baptised in France, and back again, from the palace +of Charlemagne, drew half the Paladins, and 'half +Spain militant,' to the portals of the rising sun; that +sovereign beauty which (to say nothing of kings and +princes withered by her frowns) ruined for a time the +most princely of all the Paladins, the supreme Orlando, +crazed him with scorn,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'And robbed him of his noble wits outright'—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>in all this, we must acknowledge a glorification of +power not unlike that of Achilles:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Irresistible Pelides, whom, unarm'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No strength of man or wild beast could withstand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who tore the lion as the lion tears the kid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ran on embattl'd armies clad in iron;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, weaponless himself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made arms ridiculous, useless the forgery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd cuirass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adamantéan proof;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But safest he who stood aloof,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When insupportably his foot advanced<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spurned them to death by troops. The bold Priamides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fled from his lion ramp; old warriors turn'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their plated backs under his heel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, groveling, soil'd their crested helmets in the dust.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These are the words of Milton in describing that +'heroic Nazarete,' 'God's champion'—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Promis'd by heavenly message twice descending';<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>heralded, like Pelides,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'By an angel of his birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who from his father's field<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode up in flames after his message told';<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>these are the celestial words which describe the +celestial prowess of the Hebrew monomachist, the +irresistible Sampson; and are hardly less applicable +to the 'champion paramount' of Greece confederate.</p> + +<p>This, therefore, this unique conception, with what +power they might, later Greek poets adopted; and +the other Homeric characters they transplanted somewhat +monotonously, but at times, we are willing to +admit, and have already admitted, improving and +solemnizing the original epic portraits when brought +upon the stage. But all this extent of obligation +amongst later poets of Greece to Homer serves less +to argue his opulence than their penury. And if, +quitting the one great blazing jewel, the Urim and +Thummim of the <i>Iliad</i>, you descend to individual +passages of poetic effect; and if amongst these a +fancy should seize you of asking for a specimen of the +<i>Sublime</i> in particular, what is it that you are offered +by the critics? Nothing that we remember beyond +one single passage, in which the god Neptune is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +described in a steeple chase, and 'making play' at a +terrific pace. And certainly enough is exhibited of +the old boy's hoofs, and their spanking qualities, to +warrant our backing him against a railroad for a +rump and dozen; but, after all, there is nothing to +grow frisky about, as Longinus does, who gets up the +steam of a blue-stocking enthusiasm, and boils us a +regular gallop of ranting, in which, like the conceited +snipe<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> upon the Liverpool railroad, he thinks himself +to run a match with Sampson; and, whilst affecting +to admire Homer, is manifestly squinting at the +reader to see how far he admires his own flourish of +admiration; and, in the very agony of his frosty +raptures, is quite at leisure to look out for a little +private traffic of rapture on his own account. But it +won't do; this old critical posture-master (whom, if +Aurelian hanged, surely he knew what he was about) +may as well put up his rapture pipes, and (as Lear +says) 'not squiny' at us; for let us ask Master +Longinus, in what earthly respect do these great +strides of Neptune exceed Jack with his seven-league +boots? Let him answer that, if he can. We hold +that Jack has the advantage. Or, again look at the +Koran: does any man but a foolish Oriental think +that passage sublime where Mahomet describes the +divine pen? It is, says he, made of mother-of-pearl; +so much for the 'raw material,' as the economists say. +But now for the size: it can hardly be called a 'portable'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +pen at all events, for we are told that it is so +tall of its age, that an Arabian 'thoroughbred horse +would require 500 years for galloping down the slit +to the nib. Now this Arabic sublime is <i>in this +instance</i> quite a kin brother to the Homeric.</p> + +<p>However, it is likely that we shall here be reminded +of our own challenge to the Longinian word ὑψηλον +as not at all corresponding, or even alluding to the +modern word sublime. But in this instance, the distinction +will not much avail that critic—for no +matter by what particular <i>word</i> he may convey his +sense of its quality, clear it is, by his way of illustrating +its peculiar merit, that, in his opinion, these +huge strides of Neptune's have something supernaturally +grand about them. But, waiving this +solitary instance in Homer of the sublime, according +to his idolatrous critics—of the pseudo sublime according +to ourselves—in all other cases where Longinus, +or any other Greek writer has cited Homer as the +great exemplary model of ὑψος in composition, we are +to understand him according to the Grecian sense of +that word. He must then be supposed to praise +Homer, not so much for any ideal grandeur either of +thought, image, or situation, as in a general sense for +his animated style of narration, for the variety and +spirited effect with which he relieves the direct +formal narration in his own person by dialogue between +the subjects of his narration, thus ventriloquising +and throwing his own voice as often as he can +into the surrounding objects—or again for the similes +and allusive pictures by which he points emphasis to +a situation or interest to a person.</p> + +<p>Now then we have it: when you describe Homer,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +or when you hear him described as a lively picturesque +old boy [by the way, why does everybody speak of +Homer as old?], full of life, and animation, and movement, +then you say (or you hear say) what is true, +and not much more than what is true. Only about +that word picturesque we demur a little: as a chirurgeon, +he certainly <i>is</i> picturesque; for Howship upon +gunshot wounds is a joke to him when he lectures +upon <i>traumacy</i>, if we may presume to coin that word, +or upon traumatic philosophy (as Mr. M'Culloch says +so grandly, Economic Science). But, apart from this, +we cannot allow that simply to say Ζακυνθος νεμοεσσα, +woody Zacynthus, is any better argument of picturesqueness +than Stony Stratford, or Harrow on the +Hill. Be assured, reader, that the Homeric age was +not ripe for the picturesque. <i>Price on the Picturesque</i>, +or, <i>Gilpin on Forest Scenery</i>, would both +have been sent post-haste to Bedlam in those days; +or perhaps Homer himself would have tied a millstone +about their necks, and have sunk them as public +nuisances by woody Zante. Besides, it puts almost +an extinguisher on any little twinkling of the picturesque +that might have flared up at times from this or +that suggestion, when each individual had his own +regular epithet stereotyped to his name like a brass +plate upon a door: Hector, the tamer of horses; +Achilles, the swift of foot; the ox-eyed, respectable +Juno. Some of the 'big uns,' it is true, had a dress +and an undress suit of epithets: as for instance, +Hector was also κορυθαιολος, Hector with the tossing +or the variegated plumes. Achilles again was διος +or divine. But still the range was small, and the +monotony was dire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now, if you come in good earnest to picturesqueness, +let us mention a poet in sober truth worth +five hundred of Homer, and that is Chaucer. Show +us a piece of Homer's handywork that comes within +a hundred leagues of that divine prologue to the +<i>Canterbury Tales</i>, or of 'The Knight's Tale,' of the +'Man of Law's Tale,' or of the 'Tale of the Patient +Griseldis,' or, for intense life of narration and festive +wit, to the 'Wife of Bath's Tale.' Or, passing out of +the <i>Canterbury Tales</i> for the picturesque in human +manner and gesture, and play of countenance, never +equalled as yet by Pagan or Christian, go to the +<i>Troilus and Cresseid</i>, and, for instance, to the conversation +between Troilus and Pandarus, or, again, +between Pandarus and Cresseid. Rightly did a critic +of the 17th century pronounce Chaucer a miracle of +natural genius, as having 'taken into the compass +of his <i>Canterbury Tales</i>, the various manners and +humours of the whole English nation in his age; not +a single character has escaped him.' And this critic +then proceeds thus—'The matter and manner of +these tales, and of their telling, are so suited to their +different educations, humours, and calling, that each +of them would be improper in any other mouth. +Even the grave and serious characters are distinguished +by their several sorts of gravity. Even the +ribaldry of the low characters is different. But there +is such a variety of game springing up before me, +that I am distracted in my choice, and know not +which to follow. It is sufficient to say, according to +the proverb, that here is God's plenty.' And soon +after he goes on to assert (though Heaven knows in +terms far below the whole truth), the superiority of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +Chaucer to Boccaccio. And, in the meantime, who +was this eulogist of Chaucer? Why, the man who +himself was never equalled upon this earth, unless by +Chaucer, in the art of fine narration: it is John +Dryden whom we have been quoting.</p> + +<p>Between Chaucer and Homer—as to the main art +of narration, as to the picturesque life of the manners, +and as to the exquisite delineation of character—the +interval is as wide as between Shakespeare, in +dramatic power, and Nic. Rowe.</p> + +<p>And we might wind up this main chapter, of the +comparison between Grecian and English literature—viz. +the chapter on Homer, by this tight dilemma. +You do or you do not use the Longinian word ὑψος in +the modern sense of the sublime. If you do not, then +of course you translate it in the Grecian sense, as +explained above; and in that sense, we engage to +produce many scores of passages from Chaucer, not +exceeding 50 to 80 lines, which contain more of +picturesque simplicity, more tenderness, more fidelity +to nature, more felicity of sentiment, more animation +of narrative, and more truth of character, than can +be matched in all the <i>Iliad</i> or the <i>Odyssey</i>. On +the other hand, if by ὑψος you choose absurdly to +mean sublimity in the modern sense, then it will +suffice for us that we challenge <i>you</i> to the production +of one instance which truly and incontestably embodies +that quality.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> The burthen of proof rests upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +you who affirm, not upon us who deny. Meantime, +as a kind of choke-pear, we leave with the Homeric +adorer this one brace of portraits, or hints for such a +brace, which we commend to his comparison, as +Hamlet did the portraits of the two brothers to his +besotted mother. We are talking of the sublime: +that is our thesis. Now observe: there is a catalogue +in the <i>Iliad</i>—there is a catalogue in the <i>Paradise +Lost</i>. And, like a river of Macedon and of Monmouth, +the two catalogues agree in that one fact—viz. +that they <i>are</i> such. But as to the rest, we are +willing to abide by the issue of that one comparison, +left to the very dullest sensibility, for the decision of +the total question at issue. And what is that? Not, +Heaven preserve us! as to the comparative claims of +Milton and Homer in this point of sublimity—for +surely it would be absurd to compare him who has +most with him whom we affirm to have none at all—but +whether Homer has the very smallest pretensions +in that point. The result, as we state it, is this:—The +catalogue of the ruined angels in Milton, is, in +itself taken separately, a perfect poem, with the +beauty, and the felicity, and the glory of a dream. +The Homeric catalogue of ships is exactly on a level +with the muster-roll of a regiment, the register of a +tax-gatherer, the catalogue of an auctioneer. Nay, +some catalogues are far more interesting, and more +alive with meaning. 'But him followed fifty black +ships!'—'But him follow seventy black ships!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +Faugh! We could make a more readable poem out +of an Insolvent's Balance Sheet.</p> + +<p>One other little suggestion we could wish to offer. +Those who would contend against the vast superiority +of Chaucer (and him we mention chiefly because he +really has in excess those very qualities of life, motion, +and picturesque simplicity, to which the Homeric +characteristics chiefly tend), ought to bear in mind +one startling fact evidently at war with the <i>degree</i> of +what is claimed for Homer. It is this: Chaucer is +carried naturally by the very course of his tales into +the heart of domestic life, and of the scenery most +favourable to the movements of human sensibility. +Homer, on the other hand, is kept out of that sphere, +and is imprisoned in the monotonies of a camp or a +battle-field, equally by the necessities of his story, +and by the proprieties of Grecian life (which in fact +are pretty nearly those of Turkish life at this day). +Men and women meet only under rare, hurried, and +exclusive circumstances. Hence it is, that throughout +the entire <i>Iliad</i>, we have but one scene in which +the finest affections of the human heart can find an +opening for display; of course, everybody knows at +once that we are speaking of the scene between +Hector, Andromache, and the young Astyanax. No +need for question here; it is Hobson's choice in Greek +literature, when you are seeking for the poetry of +human sensibilities. One such scene there is, and no +more; which, of itself, is some reason for suspecting +its authenticity. And, by the way, at this point, it +is worth while remarking, that a late excellent critic +always pronounced the words applied to Andromache +δακρυοεν γελασασα (<i>tearfully smiling</i>, or, <i>smiling through</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +<i>her tears</i>), a mere Alexandrian interpolation. And +why? Now mark the reason. Was it because the +circumstance is in itself vicious, or out of nature? +Not at all: nothing more probable or more interesting +under the general situation of peril combined with +the little incident of the infant's alarm at the plumed +helmet. But any just taste feels it to be out of the +Homeric key; the barbarism of the age, not mitigated +(as in Chaucer's far less barbarous age) by the tenderness +of Christian sentiment, turned a deaf ear and a +repulsive aspect to such beautiful traits of domestic +feeling; to Homer himself the whole circumstance +would have been one of pure effeminacy. Now, we +recommend it to the reader's reflection—and let him +weigh well the condition under which that poetry +moves that cannot indulge a tender sentiment without +being justly suspected of adulterous commerce with +some after age. This remark, however, is by the by; +having grown out of the δακρυοεν γελασασα, itself a +digression. But, returning from that to our previous +theme, we desire every candid reader to ask himself +what must be the character, what the circumscription, +of that poetry which is limited, by its very subject,<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> +to a scene of such intense uniformity as a battle or a +camp; and by the prevailing spirit of manners to the +exclusive society of men. To make bricks without +straw, was the excess even of Egyptian bondage; +Homer could not fight up against the necessities of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +his age, and the defects of its manners. And the +very apologies which will be urged for him, drawn as +they must be from the spirit of manners prevalent in +his era, are reciprocally but so many reasons for not +seeking in him the kind of poetry which has been +ascribed to him by ignorance, or by defective sensibility, +or by the mere self-interest of pedantry.</p> + +<p>From Homer, the route stretches thus:—The +Grecian drama lies about six hundred years nearer +to the Christian era, and Pindar lies in the interval. +These—<i>i. e.</i> the Dramatic and Lyric—are the important +chapters of the Greek poetry; for as to Pastoral +poetry, having only Theocritus surviving, and a very +little of Bion and Moschus, and of these one only +being of the least separate importance—we cannot +hold that department entitled to any notice in so +cursory a review of the literature, else we have much +to say on this also. Besides that, Theocritus was not +a natural poet, indigenous to Sicily, but an artificial +blue-stocking; as was Callimachus in a different class.</p> + +<p>The drama we may place loosely in the generation +next before that of Alexander the Great. And his +era may be best remembered by noting it as 333 +years <span class="smcap">B. C.</span> Add thirty years to this era—that will +be the era of the Drama. Add a little more than a +century, and that will be the era of Pindar. Him, +therefore, we will notice first.</p> + +<p>Now, the chief thing to say as to Pindar is—to +show cause, good and reasonable, why no man of +sense should trouble his head about him. There was +in the seventeenth century a notion prevalent about +Pindar, the very contradiction to the truth. It was +imagined that he 'had a demon'; that he was under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +a burthen of prophetic inspiration; that he was possessed, +like a Hebrew prophet or a Delphic priestess, +with divine fury. Why was this thought?—simply +because no mortal read him. Laughable it is to +mention, that Pope, when a very young man, and +writing his <i>Temple of Fame</i> (partly on the model +of Chaucer's), when he came to the great columns and +their bas-reliefs in that temple, each of which is sacred +to one honoured name, having but room in all for six, +chose Pindar for one<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> of the six. And the first bas-relief +on Pindar's column is so pretty, that we shall +quote it; especially as it suggested Gray's car for +Dryden's 'less presumptuous flight!'</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Four swans sustain a car of silver bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heads advanc'd, and pinions stretch'd for flight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, <i>like some furious prophet</i>, Pindar rode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seem'd to <i>labour with th' inspiring god</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then follow eight lines describing other bas-reliefs, +containing 'the figured games of Greece' (Olympic, +Nemean, &c.). But what we spoke of as laughable in +the whole affair is, that Master Pope neither had +then read one line of Pindar, nor ever read one line +of Pindar: and reason good; for at that time he +could not read the simple Homeric Greek; while the +Greek of Pindar exceeds all other Greek in difficulty, +excepting, perhaps, a few amongst the tragic choruses, +which are difficult for the very same reason—lyric +abruptness, lyric involution, and lyric obscurity of +transition. Not having read Homer, no wonder that +Pope should place, amongst the bas-reliefs illustrating +the <i>Iliad</i>, an incident which does not exist in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +<i>Iliad</i>.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> Not having read Pindar, no wonder that +Pope should ascribe to Pindar qualities which are not +only imaginary, but in absolute contradiction to his +true ones. A more sober old gentleman does not +exist: his demoniac possession is a mere fable. But +there are two sufficient arguments for not reading +him, so long as innumerable books of greater interest +remain unread. First, he writes upon subjects that, +to us, are mean and extinct—race-horses that have +been defunct for twenty-five centuries, chariots that +were crazy in his own day, and contests with which +it is impossible for us to sympathise. Then his digressions +about old genealogies are no whit better than +his main theme, nor more amusing than a Welshman's +pedigree. The best translator of any age, Mr. Carey, +who translated Dante, has done what human skill +could effect to make the old Theban readable; but, +after all, the man is yet to come who <i>has</i> read Pindar, +<i>will</i> read Pindar, or <i>can</i> read Pindar, except, indeed, +a translator in the way of duty. And the son of +Philip himself, though he bade 'spare the house of +Pindarus,' we vehemently suspect, never read the +works of Pindarus; that labour he left to some future +Hercules. So much for his subjects: but a second +objection is—his metre: The hexameter, or heroic +metre of the ancient Greeks, is delightful to our +modern ears; so is the Iambic metre fortunately of +the stage: but the Lyric metres generally, and those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +of Pindar without one exception, are as utterly without +meaning to us, as merely chaotic labyrinths of +sound, as Chinese music or Dutch concertos. Need +we say more?</p> + +<p>Next comes the drama. But this is too weighty +a theme to be discussed slightly; and the more so +because here only we willingly concede a strong +motive for learning Greek; here, only, we hold the +want of a ready introduction to be a serious misfortune. +Our general argument, therefore, which +had for its drift to depreciate Greek, dispenses, in +this case, with our saying anything; since every word +we <i>could</i> say would be hostile to our own purpose. +However, we shall, even upon this field of the Greek +literature, deliver one oracular sentence, tending +neither to praise nor dispraise it, but simply to state +its relations to the modern, or, at least, the English +drama. In the ancient drama, to represent it justly, +the unlearned reader must imagine grand situations, +impressive groups; in the modern tumultuous movement, +a grand stream of action. In the Greek drama, +he must conceive the presiding power to be <i>Death</i>; +in the English, <i>Life</i>. What Death?—What Life? +That sort of death or of life locked up and frozen into +everlasting slumber, which we see in sculpture; that +sort of life, of tumult, of agitation, of tendency to +something beyond, which we see in painting. The +picturesque, in short, domineers over English tragedy; +the sculpturesque, or the statuesque, over the Grecian.</p> + +<p>The moralists, such as Theogins, the miscellaneous +or didactic poets, such as Hesiod, are all alike below +any notice in a sketch like this. The Epigrammatists, +or writers of monumental inscriptions, &c., remain;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +and they, next after the dramatic poets, present the +most interesting field by far in the Greek literature; +but these are too various to be treated otherwise than +<i>viritim</i> and in detail.</p> + +<p>There remains the prose literature; and, with +the exception of those critical writers who have +written on rhetoric (such as Hermogenes, Dionysius +of Halicarnassus, Demetrius Phalerius, &c. &c., some +of whom are the best writers extant, on the mere art +of constructing sentences, but could not interest the +general reader), the prose writers may be thus distributed: +1st, the orators; 2nd, the historians; 3rd, +the philosophers; 4th, the literateurs (such as +Plutarch, Lucian, &c.).</p> + +<p>As to the philosophers, of course there are only two +who can present any general interest—Plato and +Aristotle; for Xenophon is no more a philosophic +writer than our own Addison. Now, in this department, +it is evident that the matter altogether transcends +the manner. No man will wish to study a +profound philosopher, but for some previous interest +in his doctrines; and, if by any means a man has +obtained this, he may pursue this study sufficiently +through translations. It is true that neither Sydenham +nor Taylor has done justice to Plato, for example, +as respects the colloquial graces of his style; but, +when the object is purely to pursue a certain course +of principles and inferences, the student cannot complain +much that he has lost the dramatic beauties of +the dialogue, or the luxuriance of the style. These +he was not then seeking, by the supposition—what he +<i>did</i> seek, is still left; whereas in poetry, if the golden +apparel is lost, if the music has melted away from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +the thoughts, all, in fact, is lost. Old Hobbes, or +Ogilbie, is no more Homer than the score of Mozart's +<i>Don Giovanni</i> is Mozart's <i>Don Giovanni</i>.</p> + +<p>If, however, Grecian philosophy presents no absolute +temptations to the attainment of Greek, far less +does Grecian history. If you except later historians—such +as Diodorus, Plutarch, and those (like Appian, +Dionysius, Dion Cassius) who wrote of Roman things +and Roman persons in Greek, and Polybius, who +comes under the same class, at a much earlier period—and +none of whom have any interest of style, +excepting only Plutarch: these dismissed, there are +but three who can rank as classical Greek historians; +<i>three who can lose by translation</i>. Of these the eldest, +Herodotus, is perhaps of real value. Some call him +the father of history; some call him the father of lies. +Time and Major Rennel have done him ample justice. +Yet here, again, see how little need of Greek for the +amplest use of a Greek author. Twenty-two centuries +and more have passed since the fine old man read his +history at the Grecian games of Olympia. One man +only has done him right, and put his enemies under +his footstool; <i>and yet this man had no Greek</i>. Major +Rennel read Herodotus only in the translation of +Beloe. He has told us so himself. Here, then, is a +little fact, my Grecian boys, that you won't easily get +over. The father of history, the eldest of prose +writers, has been first explained, illustrated, justified, +liberated from scandal and disgrace, first had his +geography set to rights, first translated from the +region of fabulous romance, and installed in his +cathedral chair, as Dean (or eldest) of historians, +by a military man, who had no more Greek than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +Shakspeare, or than we (perhaps you, reader) of the +Kalmuck.</p> + +<p>Next comes Thucydides. He is the second in order +of time amongst the Grecian historians who survive, +and the first of those (a class which Mr. Southey, the +laureate, always speaks of as the corruptors of genuine +history) who affect to treat it philosophically. +If the philosophic historians are not always so +faithless as Mr. Southey alleges, they are, however, +always guilty of dulness. Commend us to one picturesque, +garrulous old fellow, like Froissart, or Philip +de Comines, or Bishop Burnet, before all the philosophic +prosers that ever prosed. These picturesque +men will lie a little now and then, for the sake of +effect—but so will the philosophers. Even Bishop +Burnet, who, by the way, was hardly so much a picturesque +as an anecdotal historian, was famous for +his gift of lying; so diligently had he cultivated it. +And the Duchess of Portsmouth told a noble lord, +when inquiring into the truth of a particular fact +stated by the very reverend historian, that he was +notorious in Charles the Second's court, and that no +man believed a word he said. But now Thucydides, +though writing about his own time, and doubtless +embellishing by fictions not less than his more amusing +brethren, is as dull as if he prided himself on +veracity. Nay, he tells us no secret anecdotes of the +times—surely there must have been many; and this +proves to us, that he was a low fellow without political +connections, and that he never had been behind +the curtain. Now, what business had such a man to +set himself up for a writer of history and a speculator +on politics? Besides, his history is imperfect; and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +suppose it were not, what is its subject? Why simply +one single war; a war which lasted twenty-seven +years; but which, after all, through its whole course +was enlivened by only two events worthy to enter +into general history—viz. the plague of Athens, and +the miserable licking which the Athenian invaders +received in Sicily. This dire overthrow dished +Athens out and out; for one generation to come, +there was an end of Athenian domination; and that +arrogant state, under the yoke of their still baser +enemies of Sparta, learned experimentally what were +the evils of a foreign conquest. There was therefore, +in the domination of the Thirty Tyrants, something +to 'point a moral' in the Peloponnesian war: it was +the judicial reaction of martial tyranny and foreign +oppression, such as we of this generation have beheld +in the double conquest of Paris by insulted and outraged +Christendom. But nothing of all this will be +found in Thucydides—he is as cool as a cucumber +upon every act of atrocity; whether it be the bloody +abuse of power, or the bloody retribution from the +worm that, being trampled on too long, turns at last +to sting and to exterminate—all alike he enters in his +daybook and his ledger, posts them up to the account +of brutal Spartan or polished Athenian, with no more +expression of his feelings (if he had any) than a merchant +making out an invoice of puncheons that are to +steal away men's wits, or of frankincense and myrrh +that are to ascend in devotion to the saints. Herodotus +is a fine, old, genial boy, that, like Froissart or +some of the crusading historians, kept himself in +health and jovial spirits by travelling about; nor did +he confine himself to Greece or the Grecian islands;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +but he went to Egypt, got bousy in the Pyramid of +Cheops, ate a beef-steak in the hanging-gardens of +Babylon, and listened to no sailors' yarns at the +Piræus, which doubtless, before his time, had been +the sole authority for Grecian legends concerning +foreign lands. But, as to Thucydides, our own +belief is, that he lived like a monk shut up in his +<i>museum</i> or study; and that, at the very utmost, he +may have gone in the steamboat<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> to Corfu (<i>i. e.</i> +Corcyra), because <i>that</i> was the island which occasioned +the row of the Peloponnesian war.</p> + +<p>Xenophon now is quite another sort of man; he +could use his pen; but also he could use his sword; +and (when need was) his heels, in running away. +His Grecian history of course is a mere fraction of +the general history; and, moreover, our own belief, +founded upon the differences of the style, is, that the +work now received for his must be spurious. But in +this place the question is not worth discussing. Two +works remain, professedly historical, which, beyond a +doubt, <i>are</i> his; and one of them the most interesting +prose work by much which Athens has bequeathed +us; though, by the way, Xenophon was living in a +sort of elegant exile at a chateau in Thessaly, and not +under Athenian protection, when he wrote it. Both +of his great works relate to a Persian Cyrus, but to +a Cyrus of different centuries. The <i>Cyropædia</i> is +a romance, pretty much on the plan of Fenelon's +<i>Telemaque</i>, only (Heaven be praised!) not so furiously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +apoplectic. It pursues the great Cyrus, the +founder of the Persian empire, the Cyrus of the +Jewish prophets, from his infancy to his death-bed; +and describes evidently not any real prince, according +to any authentic record of his life, but, upon some +basis of hints and vague traditions, improves the +actual Cyrus into an ideal fiction of a sovereign and +a military conqueror, as he <i>ought</i> to be. One thing +only we shall say of this work, though no admirers +ourselves of the twaddle which Xenophon elsewhere +gives us as philosophic memorabilia, that the episode +of Abradates and Panthea (especially the behaviour +of Panthea after the death of her beloved hero, and +the incident of the dead man's hand coming away on +Cyrus grasping it) exceeds for pathos everything in +Grecian literature, always excepting the Greek drama, +and comes nearest of anything, throughout Pagan +literature, to the impassioned simplicity of Scripture, +in its tale of Joseph and his brethren. The other +historical work of Xenophon is the <i>Anabasis</i>. The +meaning of the title is <i>the going-up</i> or <i>ascent</i>—viz. of +Cyrus the younger. This prince was the younger +brother of the reigning king Artaxerxes, nearly two +centuries from Cyrus the Great; and, from opportunity +rather than a better title, and because his mother +and his vast provincial government furnished him +with royal treasures able to hire an army, most of +all, because he was richly endowed by nature with +personal gifts—took it into his head that he would +dethrone his brother; and the more so, because he +was only his half-brother. His chance was a good +one: he had a Grecian army, and one from the very +<i>élite</i> of Greece; whilst the Persian king had but a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +small corps of Grecian auxiliaries, long enfeebled +by Persian effeminacy and Persian intermarriages. +Xenophon was personally present in this expedition. +And the catastrophe was most singular, such as does +not occur once in a thousand years. The cavalry of +the great King retreated before the Greeks continually, +no doubt from policy and secret orders; so that, +when a pitched battle became inevitable, the foreign +invaders found themselves in the very heart of the +land, and close upon the Euphrates. The battle was +fought: the foreigners were victorious: they were +actually singing <i>Te Deum</i> or <i>Io Pæan</i> for their victory, +when it was discovered that their leader, the native +prince in whose behalf they had conquered, was +missing; and soon after, that he was dead. What +was to be done? The man who should have improved +their victory, and placed them at his own right hand +when on the throne of Persia, was no more; key they +had none to unlock the great fortresses of the empire, +none to unloose the enthusiasm of the native population. +Yet such was the desperation of their circumstances, +that a <i>coup-de-main</i> on the capital seemed +their best chance. The whole army was and felt +itself a forlorn hope. To go forward was desperate, +but to go back much more so; for they had a thousand +rivers without bridges in their rear; and, if +they set their faces in that direction, they would +have 300,000 light cavalry upon their flanks, besides +nations innumerable—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreath'd';<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>fierce fellows who understood no Greek, and, what +was worse, no joking, but well understood the use of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +the scymitar. Bad as things were, they soon became +worse; for the chiefs of the Grecian army, being +foolish enough to accept a dinner invitation from the +Persian commander-in-chief, were assassinated; and +the words of Milton became intelligible—that in the +lowest deep a lower deep had opened to destroy them. +In this dilemma, Xenophon, the historian of the +expedition, was raised to a principal command; and +by admirable skill he led back the army by a different +route to the Black Sea, on the coast of which he +knew that there were Grecian colonies: and from one +of these he obtained shipping, in which he coasted +along (when he did not march by land) to the mouth +of the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles. This was the +famous retreat of the ten thousand; and it shows +how much defect of literary skill there was in those +days amongst Grecian authors, that the title of the +book, <i>The Going Up</i>, does not apply to the latter +and more interesting seven-eighths of the account. +The Going Up is but the preparation or preface to +the Going Down, the <i>Anabasis</i> to the <i>Katabasis</i>, in +which latter part it is that Xenophon plays any conspicuous +part. A great political interest, however, +over and above the personal interest, attaches to this +expedition: for there can be no doubt, that to this +proof of weakness in the Persian empire, and perhaps +to this, <i>as recorded by Xenophon</i>, was due the expedition +of Alexander in the next generation, which +changed the face of the world.</p> + +<p>The literateurs, as we have styled Plutarch and +Lucian, though far removed from the true classical +era, being both posterior to Christianity, are truly +interesting. And, for Lucian in particular, though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +he is known by reputation only as a humorous and +sneering writer, we can say, upon our personal knowledge, +that there are passages of more terrific effect, +more German, and approaching to the sublime, than +anywhere else in Greek literature, out of the tragic +poets. Of Plutarch we need hardly speak; one part +of his voluminous works—viz. his biographies of +Greek and Roman leaders in arts<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> and arms—being +so familiar to all nations; and having been selected +by Rousseau as the book for him who should be +limited (or, like Collins the poet, should limit himself) +to one book only—a foolish choice undoubtedly, but +still arguing great range of resources in Plutarch, +that he should be thought of after so many myriads of +modern books had widened the range of selection. +Meantime, the reader is not to forget that, whatever +may be his powers of amusement, a more inaccurate +or faithless author as to dates, and, indeed, in all +matters of research, does not exist than Plutarch. We +make it a rule, whenever we see <i>Plut.</i> at the bottom +of a dictionary article, as the authority on which it +rests, to put the better half down as a bouncer. +And, in fact, Joe Miller is quite as good authority +for English history as Plutarch for Roman.</p> + +<p>Now remain the orators; and of these we have a +right to speak, for we have read them; and, believe +us, reader, not above one or two men in a generation +have. If the Editor would allow us room, we would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +gladly contrast them with modern orators; and we +could easily show how prodigious are the advantages +of modern orators in every point which can enter +into a comparison. But to what purpose? Even +modern orators, with all the benefit of modern interest, +and of allusions everywhere intelligible, are not +read in any generation after their own, pulpit orators +only being excepted. So that, if the gods <i>had</i> made +our reader a Grecian, surely he would never so far +misspend his precious time, and squander his precious +intellect upon old dusty quarrels, never of more value +to a philosopher than a tempest in a wash-hand bason, +but now stuffed with obscurities which no man can +explain, and with lies to which no man can bring the +counter-statement. But this would furnish matter +for a separate paper.</p> + +<p><br /></p> +<h3>No. II.—THE GREEK ORATORS.</h3> + +<p>Now, let us come to the orators. Isocrates, the +eldest of those who have survived, is a mere scholastic +rhetorician: for he was a timid man, and did not +dare to confront the terrors of a stormy political +audience; and hence, though he lived about an entire +century, he never once addressed the Athenian +citizens. It is true, that, although no <i>bonâ fide</i> orator—for +he never <i>spoke</i> in any usual acceptation of that +word, and, as a consequence, never had an opportunity +of replying, which only can bring forward a man's +talents as a <i>debater</i>—still he employed his pen upon +real and upon existing questions of public policy; +and did not, as so many generations of chamber<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +rhetoricians continued to do in Greece, confine his +powers to imaginary cases of political difficulty, or +(what were tantamount to imaginary) cases fetched +up from the long-past era of King Priam, or the still +earlier era of the Seven Chiefs warring against the +Seven-gated Thebes of Bœotia, or the half-fabulous +era of the Argonauts. Isocrates was a man of sense—a +patriot in a temperate way—and with something of +a feeling for Greece generally, not merely a champion +of Athens. His heart was given to politics: and, in +an age when heavy clouds were gathering over the +independence and the civil grandeur of his country, +he had a disinterested anxiety for drawing off the +lightning of the approaching storms by pacific counsels. +Compared, therefore, with the common mercenary +orators of the Athenian forum—who made a +regular trade of promoting mischief, by inflaming the +pride, jealousy, vengeance, or the martial instincts of +a 'fierce democracy,' and, generally speaking, with no +views, high or low, sound or unsound, that looked +beyond the momentary profit to themselves from thus +pandering to the thoughtless nationality of a most +sensitive people—Isocrates is entitled to our respect. +His writings have also a separate value, as memorials +of political transactions from which the historian has +gathered many useful hints; and, perhaps, to a diligent +search, they might yield more. But, considered +as an orator—if that title can be, with any propriety, +allowed to one who declaimed only in his closet—one +who, in relation to public affairs, was what, in England, +when speaking of practical jurisprudence, we +call a Chamber Counsel—Isocrates is languid, and +with little of anything characteristic in his manner to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +justify a separate consideration. It is remarkable +that he, beyond all other rhetoricians of that era, +cultivated the <i>rhythmus</i> of his periods. And to this +object he sacrificed not only an enormity of time, but, +I have no doubt, in many cases, the freedom and +natural movement of the thoughts. My reason, however, +for noticing this peculiarity in Isocrates, is by +way of fixing the attention upon the superiority, even +artificial ornaments, of downright practical business +and the realities of political strife, over the torpid +atmosphere of a study or a school. Cicero, long after, +had the same passion for <i>numerositas</i>, and the full, +pompous rotundity of cadence. But in Cicero, all +habits and all faculties were nursed by the daily +practice of life and its impassioned realities, in the +forum or in the senate. What is the consequence? +Why this—that, whereas in the most laboured performance +of Isocrates (which cost him, I think, one +whole <i>decennium</i>, or period of ten years), few modern +ears are sensible of any striking art, or any great +result of harmony; in Cicero, on the other hand, the +fine, sonorous modulations of his periodic style, are +delightful to the dullest ear of any European. Such +are the advantages from real campaigns, from the +unsimulated strife of actual stormy life, over the +torpid dreams of what the Romans called an <i>umbratic</i><a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> +experience.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> +<p><i>Isocrates</i> I have noticed as the oldest of the surviving +Greek orators: <i>Demosthenes</i>, of course, claims a +notice more emphatically, as, by universal consent of +Athens, and afterwards of Rhodes, of Rome, and +other impartial judges, the greatest, or, at least, the +most comprehensively great. For, by the way, it +must not be forgotten—though modern critics <i>do</i> +forget this rather important fact in weighing the +reputation of Demosthenes—he was not esteemed, in +his own day, as the greatest in that particular quality +of energy and demoniac power (δεινοτης) which is +generally assumed to have been his leading characteristic +and his <i>forte</i>; not only by comparison with his +own compatriots, but even with Cicero and the greatest +men of the Roman bar. It was not of Demosthenes +that the Athenians were accustomed to say, 'he +thunders and lightens,' but of Pericles, an elder +orator; and even amongst the written oratory of +Greece, which still survives (for as to the speeches +ascribed to Pericles by Thucydides, I take it for +granted that, as usual, these were mere forgeries of +the historian), there is a portion which perhaps exceeds +Demosthenes in the naked quality of vehemence. +But this, I admit, will not impeach his supremacy; +for it is probable, that wherever an orator is characterised +exclusively by turbulent power, or at least +remembered chiefly for that quality, all the other +numerous graces of eloquence were wanting to that +man, or existed only in a degree which made no +equipoise to his insulated gift of Jovian terror. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +Gracchi, amongst the Roman orators, were probably +more properly 'sons of thunder' than Crassus or +Cicero, or even than Cæsar himself, whose oratory, by +the way, was, in this respect, like his own character +and infinite accomplishments; so that even by Cicero +it is rarely cited without the epithet of splendid, +magnificent, &c. We must suppose, therefore, that +neither Cicero nor Demosthenes was held to be at the +head of their respective fields in Rome and Athens, in +right of any absolute pre-eminence in the one leading +power of an orator—viz. native and fervent vigour—but +in right of a large comprehensive harmony of +gifts, leaving possibly to some other orators, elder or +rival to themselves, a superiority in each of an orator's +talents taken apart, but claiming the supremacy, +nevertheless, upon the whole, by the systematic union +of many qualities tending to one result: pleasing the +taste by the harmonious <i>coup d'œil</i> from the total +assemblage, and also adapting itself to a far larger +variety of situations; for, after all, the <i>mere</i> son of +thunder is disarmed, and apt to become ridiculous, if +you strip him of a passionate cause, of a theme saturated +with human strife, and of an excitable or +tempestuous audience.</p> + +<p>Such an audience, however, it will be said that +Demosthenes had, and sometimes (but not very often +in those orations which survive) such a theme. As +to his audience, certainly it was all that could be +wished in point of violence and combustible passion; +but also it was something more. A mighty advantage +it is, doubtless, to an orator, when he sees and hears +his own kindling passions instantaneously reflected in +the blazing eyes and fiery shouts (the <i>fremitus</i>) of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +audience—when he sees a whole people, personally or +by deputation, swayed backwards and forwards, like +a field of corn in a breeze, by the movements of his +own appeals. But, unfortunately, in the Athenian +audience, the ignorance, the headstrong violence of +prejudice, the arrogance, and, above all, the levity of +the national mind—presented, to an orator the most +favourite, a scene like that of an ocean always rocking +with storms; like a wasp always angry; like a +lunatic, always coming out of a passion or preparing +to go into one. Well might Demosthenes prepare +himself by sea-shore practice; in which I conceive +that his purpose must have been, not so much +(according to the common notion) to overcrow the +noise of the forum, as to <i>stand fire</i> (if I may so +express it) against the uproarious demonstrations of +mob fury.</p> + +<p>This quality of an Athenian audience must very +seriously have interfered with the intellectual display +of an orator. Not a word could he venture to say in +the way of censure towards the public will—not even +hypothetically to insinuate a fault; not a syllable +could he utter even in the way of dissent from the +favourite speculations of the moment. If he did, +instantly a roar of menaces recalled him to a sense +even of personal danger. And, again, the mere +vivacity of his audience, requiring perpetual amusement +and variety, compelled a man, as great even as +Demosthenes, to curtail his arguments, and rarely, +indeed, to pursue a theme with the requisite fulness +of development or illustration; a point in which the +superior dignity and the far less fluctuating mobility of +the Roman mind gave an immense advantage to Cicero.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>Demosthenes, in spite of all the weaknesses which +have been arrayed against his memory by the hatred +of his contemporaries, or by the anti-republican feelings +of such men as Mitford, was a great man and +an honest man. He rose above his countrymen. He +despised, in some measure, his audience; and, at +length, in the palmy days of his influence, he would +insist on being heard; he would insist on telling the +truth, however unacceptable; he would not, like the +great rout of venal haranguers, lay any flattering +unction to the capital distempers of the public mind; +he would point out their errors, and warn them of +their perils. But this upright character of the man, +victorious over his constitutional timidity, does but +the more brightly illustrate the local law and the +tyranny of the public feeling. How often do we find +him, when on the brink of uttering 'odious truth,' +obliged to pause, and to propitiate his audience with +deprecatory phrases, entreating them to give him time +for utterance, not to yell him down before they had +heard his sentence to the end. Μη θορυζειτε—'Gentlemen +of Athens! for the love of God, do not make an +uproar at what I am going to say! Gentlemen of +Athens! humbly I beseech you to let me finish my +sentence!' Such are his continual appeals to the +better feelings of his audience. Now, it is very +evident that, in such circumstances, no man could do +justice to any subject. At least, when speaking not +before a tribunal of justice, but before the people in +council assembled—that is, in effect, on his greatest +stage of all—Demosthenes (however bold at times, +and restive in a matter which he held to be paramount) +was required to bend, and did bend, to the local<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +genius of democracy, reinforced by a most mercurial +temperament. The very air of Attica, combined with +great political power, kept its natives in a state of +habitual intoxication; and even wise men would have +had some difficulty in mastering, as it affected +themselves, the permanent bias towards caprice and +insolence.</p> + +<p>Is this state of things at all taken into account in +our modern critiques upon Demosthenes? The upshot +of what I can find in most modern lecturers upon +rhetoric and style, French or English, when speaking +of Demosthenes, is this notable simile, by way of +representing the final effect of his eloquence—'that, +like a mountain torrent, swollen by melting snow, or +by rain, it carries all things before it.' Prodigiously +original! and exceedingly discriminative! As if such +an illustration would not equally represent the effect +of a lyrical poem, of Mozart's music, of a stormy +chorus, or any other form whatever of impassioned +vehemence. Meantime, I suspect grievously that not +one of these critics has ever read a paragraph of +Demosthenes. Nothing do you ever find quoted but +a few notorious passages about Philip of Macedon, +and the too-famous oath, by the manes of those that +died at Marathon. I call it too famous, because (like +Addison's comparison of Marlborough, at Blenheim, +to the angel in the storm—of which a schoolmaster +then living said, that nine out of every ten boys +would have hit upon it in a school exercise) it has no +peculiar boldness, and must have occurred to every +Athenian, of any sensibility, every day of his life. +Hear, on the other hand, a modern oath, and (what +is most remarkable) an oath sworn in the pulpit. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +dissenting clergyman (I believe, a Baptist), preaching +at Cambridge, and having occasion to affirm or to +deny something or other, upon his general confidence +in the grandeur of man's nature, the magnificence of +his conceptions, the immensity of his aspirations, &c., +delivered himself thus:—'By the greatness of human +ideals—by the greatness of human aspirations—by +the immortality of human creations—<i>by the Iliad</i>—<i>by +the Odyssey</i>'—Now, that <i>was</i> bold, startling, +sublime. But, in the other case, neither was the oath +invested with any great pomp of imagery or expression; +nor, if it had—which is more to the purpose—was +such an oath at all representative of the peculiar +manner belonging to Demosthenes. It is always a +rude and inartificial style of criticism to cite from an +author that which, whether fine or not in itself, is no +fair specimen of his ordinary style.</p> + +<p>What then <i>is</i> the characteristic style of Demosthenes?—It +is one which grew naturally, as did his +defects (by which I mean faults of <i>omission</i>, in +contradiction to such as are positive), from the +composition of his audience. His audience, comprehending +so much ignorance, and, above all, so much +high-spirited impatience, being, in fact, always on the +fret, kept the orator always on the fret. Hence +arose short sentences; hence, the impossibility of the +long, voluminous sweeps of beautiful rhythmus which +we find in Cicero; hence, the animated form of +apostrophe and crowded interrogations addressed to +the audience. This gives, undoubtedly, a spirited and +animated character to the style of Demosthenes; but +it robs him of a large variety of structure applied to +the logic, or the embellishment, or the music of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +composition. His style is full of life, but not (like +Cicero's) full of pomp and continuous grandeur. On +the contrary, as the necessity of rousing attention, or +of sustaining it, obliged the Attic orator to rely too +much on the <i>personality</i> of direct question to the +audience, and to use brief sentences, so also the same +impatient and fretful irritability forbade him to linger +much upon an idea—to theorise, to speculate, or, +generally, to quit the direct business path of the +question then under consideration—no matter for +what purpose of beauty, dignity, instruction, or even +of <i>ultimate</i> effect. In all things, the <i>immediate</i>—the +instant—the <i>præsens præsentissimum</i>, was kept steadily +before the eye of the Athenian orator, by the mere +coercion of self-interest.</p> + +<p>And hence, by the way, arises one most important +feature of distinction between Grecian oratory (political +oratory at least) on the one hand, and Roman (to +which, in this point, we may add British) on the +other. A Roman lawyer, senator, or demagogue, +even, under proper restrictions—a British member of +parliament—or even a candidate from the hustings—but, +most assuredly, and by the evidence of many a +splendid example, an advocate addressing a jury—may +embellish his oration with a wide circuit of +historical, or of antiquarian, nay, even speculative +discussion. Every Latin scholar will remember the +leisurely and most facetious, the good-natured and +respectful, yet keenly satiric, picture which the great +Roman barrister draws of the Stoic philosophy, by +way of <i>rowing</i> old Cato, who professed that philosophy +with too little indulgence for venial human errors. +The <i>judices</i>—that is, in effect, the jury—were tickled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +to the soul by seeing the grave Marcus Cato badgered +with this fine razor-like raillery; and there can be no +doubt that, by flattering the self-respect of the jury, +in presuming them susceptible of so much wit from a +liberal kind of knowledge, and by really delighting +them with such a display of adroit teasing applied to +a man of scenical gravity, this whole scene, though +quite extrajudicial and travelling out of the record, +was highly useful in conciliating the good-will of +Cicero's audience. The same style of liberal <i>excursus</i> +from the more thorny path of the absolute business +before the court, has been often and memorably +practised by great English barristers—as, in the trial +of Sacheverel, by many of the managers for the +Commons; by 'the fluent Murray,' on various occasions; +in the great cause of impeachment against our +English Verres (or, at least, our Verres as to the +situation, though not the guilt), Mr. Hastings; in +many of Mr. Erskine's addresses to juries, where +political rights were at stake; in Sir James Mackintosh's +defence of Peltier for a libel upon Napoleon, +when he went into a history of the press as applied to +politics—(a liberal inquiry, but which, except in the +remotest manner, could not possibly bear upon the +mere question of fact before the jury); and in many +other splendid instances, which have really made <i>our</i> +trials and the annals of <i>our</i> criminal jurisprudence +one great fund of information and authority to the +historian. In the senate, I need not say how much +farther, and more frequently, this habit of large +generalisation, and of liberal excursion from perhaps +a lifeless theme, has been carried by great masters; +in particular, by Edmund Burke, who carried it, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +fact, to such excess, and to a point which threatened +so much to disturb the movement of public business, +that, from that cause more perhaps than from rude +insensibility to the value of his speculations, he put +his audience sometimes in motion for dinner, and +acquired (as is well-known) the surname of the +Dinner Bell.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p> + +<p>Now, in the Athenian audience, all this was impossible: +neither in political nor in forensic harangues +was there any license by rule, or any indulgence by +usage, or any special privilege by personal favour, to +the least effort at improving an individual case of law +or politics into general views of jurisprudence, of +statesmanship, of diplomacy; no collateral discussions +were tolerated—no illustrative details—no historical +parallelisms—still less any philosophical moralisations. +The slightest show of any tendency in these directions +was summarily nipped in the bud: the Athenian +gentlemen began to θορυζειν in good earnest if a man +showed symptoms of entering upon any discussion +whatever that was not intensely needful and pertinent +in the first place—or which, in the second place, was +not of a nature to be wound up in two sentences when +a summons should arise either to dinner, or to the +theatre, or to the succession of some variety anticipated +from another orator.</p> + +<p>Hence, therefore, finally arises one great peculiarity +of Greek eloquence; and a most unfortunate one for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +its chance of ever influencing a remote posterity, or, +in any substantial sense, of its ever surviving in the +real unaffected admiration of us moderns—that it +embodies no alien, no collateral information as to +manners, usages, modes of feeling—no extrinsic ornament, +no side glimpses into Grecian life, no casual +historical details. The cause, and nothing but the +cause—the political question, and nothing but the +question—- pealed for ever in the ears of the terrified +orator, always on sufferance, always on his good +behaviour, always afraid, for the sake of his party or +of his client, lest his auditors should become angry, or +become impatient, or become weary. And from that +intense fear, trammeling the freedom of his steps at +every turn, and overruling every motion to the right +or to the left, in pure servile anxiety for the mood +and disposition of his tyrannical master, arose the +very opposite result for us of this day—that we, by +the very means adopted to prevent weariness in the +immediate auditors, find nothing surviving in Grecian +orations but what <i>does</i> weary us insupportably through +its want of all general interest; and, even amongst +private or instant details of politics or law, presenting +us with none that throw light upon the spirit of +manners, or the Grecian peculiarities of feeling. +Probably an Athenian mob would not have cared +much at the prospect of such a result to posterity; +and, at any rate, would not have sacrificed one atom +of their ease or pleasure to obviate such a result: +but, to an Athenian orator, this result would have +been a sad one to contemplate. The final consequence +is, that whilst all men find, or may find, infinite +amusement, and instruction of the most liberal kind,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +in that most accomplished of statesmen and orators, +the Roman Cicero—nay, would doubtless, from the +causes assigned, have found, in their proportion, the +same attractions in the speeches of the elder Antony, +of Hortensius, of Crassus, and other contemporaries +or immediate predecessors of Cicero—no person ever +reads Demosthenes, still less any other Athenian +orator, with the slightest interest beyond that which +inevitably attaches to the words of one who wrote his +own divine language with probably very superior +skill.</p> + +<p>But, from all this, results a further inference—viz. +the dire affectation of those who pretend an enthusiasm +in the oratory of Demosthenes; and also a plenary +consolation to all who are obliged, from ignorance +of Greek, to dispense with that novelty. If it be a +luxury at all, it is and can be one for those only +who cultivate verbal researches and the pleasures of +philology.</p> + +<p>Even in the oratory of our own times, which oftentimes +discusses questions to the whole growth and +motion of which we have been ourselves parties +present, or even accessary—questions which we have +followed in their first emersion and separation from +the clouds of general politics; their advance, slow or +rapid, towards a domineering interest in the public +passions; their meridian altitude; and perhaps their +precipitous descent downwards, whether from the +consummation of their objects (as in the questions of +the Slave Trade, of Catholic Emancipation, of East +India Monopoly), or from a partial victory and compromise +with the abuse (as in the purification of that +Augean stable, prisons, and, still more, private houses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +for the insane), or from the accomplishment of one +stage or so in a progress which, by its nature, is +infinite (as in the various steps taken towards the +improvement, and towards the extension of education): +even in cases like these, when the primary +and ostensible object of the speaker already, on its +own account, possesses a commanding attraction, yet +will it often happen that the secondary questions, +growing out of the leading one, the great elementary +themes suggested to the speaker by the concrete case +before him—as, for instance, the general question +of Test Laws, or the still higher and transcendent +question of Religious Toleration, and the relations +between the State and religious opinions, or the +general history of Slavery and the commerce in the +human species, the general principles of economy as +applied to monopolies, the past usages of mankind in +their treatment of prisoners or of lunatics—these +comprehensive and transcendent themes are continually +allowed to absorb and throw into the shade, +for a time, the minor but more urgent question of +the moment through which they have gained their +interest. The capital and primary interest gives way +for a time to the derivative interest; and it does so +by a silent understanding between the orator and his +audience. The orator is well assured that he will not +be taxed with wandering; the audience are satisfied +that, eventually, they will not have lost their time: +and the final result is, to elevate and liberalise the +province of oratory, by exalting mere business (growing +originally, perhaps, out of contingencies of finance, +or trade, or local police) into a field for the higher +understanding; and giving to the mere necessities of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +our position as a nation the dignity of great problems +for civilising wisdom or philosophic philanthropy. +Look back to the superb orations of Edmund Burke +on questions limited enough in themselves, sometimes +merely personal; for instance, that on American +Taxation, on the Reforms in our Household or Official +Expenditure, or at that from the Bristol hustings (by +its <i>primâ facie</i> subject, therefore, a mere electioneering +harangue to a mob). With what marvellous +skill does he enrich what is meagre, elevate what is +humble, intellectualise what is purely technical, delocalise +what is local, generalise what is personal! +And with what result? Doubtless to the absolute +contemporaries of those speeches, steeped to the very +lips in the passions besetting their topics, even to +those whose attention was sufficiently secured by the +domineering interest, friendly or hostile, to the views +of the speaker—even to these I say, that, in so far as +they were at all capable of an intellectual pleasure, +those parts would be most attractive which were least +occupied with the present business and the momentary +details. This order of precedency in the interests of +the speech held even for them; but to us, removing +at every annual step we take in the century, to a +greater distance from the mere business and partisan +interests of the several cases, this secondary attraction +is not merely the greater of the two—to us it has +become pretty nearly the sole one, pretty nearly the +exclusive attraction.</p> + +<p>As to religious oratory, <i>that</i> stands upon a different +footing—the questions afloat in that province of +human speculation being eternal, or at least essentially +the same under new forms, receives a strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +illustration from the annals of the English senate, to +which also it gives a strong and useful illustration. +Up to the era of James I., the eloquence of either +House could not, for political reasons, be very striking, +on the very principle which we have been enforcing. +Parliament met only for dispatch of business; and +that business was purely fiscal, or (as at times it +happened) judicial. The constitutional functions of +Parliament were narrow; and they were narrowed +still more severely by the jealousy of the executive +government. With the expansion, or rather first +growth and development of a gentry, or third estate, +expanded, <i>pari passu</i>, the political field of their jurisdiction +and their deliberative functions. This widening +field, as a birth out of new existences, unknown +to former laws or usages, was, of course, not contemplated +by those laws or usages. Constitutional +law could not provide for the exercise of rights by a +body of citizens, when, as yet, that body had itself no +existence. A gentry, as the depository of a vast +overbalance of property, real as well as personal, had +not matured itself till the latter years of James I. +Consequently the new functions, which the instinct +of their new situation prompted them to assume, were +looked upon by the Crown, most sincerely, as unlawful +usurpations. This led, as we know, to a most fervent +and impassioned struggle, the most so of any struggle +which has ever armed the hands of men with the +sword. For the passions take a far profounder sweep +when they are supported by deep thought and high +principles.</p> + +<p>This element of fervid strife was already, for itself, +an atmosphere most favourable to political eloquence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +Accordingly, the speeches of that day, though generally +too short to attain that large compass and sweep of +movement without which it is difficult to kindle or to +sustain any conscious enthusiasm in an audience, were +of a high quality as to thought and energy of expression, +as high as their circumstantial disadvantages +allowed. Lord Strafford's great effort is deservedly +admired to this day, and the latter part of it has been +often pronounced a <i>chef-d'œuvre</i>. A few years before +that era, all the orators of note were, and must have +been, judicial orators; and, amongst these, Lord +Bacon, to whom every reader's thoughts will point as +the most memorable, attained the chief object of all +oratory, if what Ben Jonson reports of him be true, +that he had his audience passive to the motions of his +will. But Jonson was, perhaps, too scholastic a judge +to be a fair representative judge; and, whatever he +might choose to say or to think, Lord Bacon was +certainly too weighty—too massy with the bullion of +original thought—ever to have realized the idea of a +great popular orator—one who</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Wielded at will a fierce democracy,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and ploughed up the great deeps of sentiment, or +party strife, or national animosities, like a Levanter +or a monsoon. In the schools of Plato, in the <i>palæstra +Stoicorum</i>, such an orator might be potent; not <i>in +fæce Romuli</i>. If he had laboured with no other defect, +had he the gift of tautology? Could he say the same +thing three times over in direct sequence? For, without +this talent of iteration—of repeating the same +thought in diversified forms—a man may utter good +heads of an oration, but not an oration. Just as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +same illustrious man's essays are good hints—useful +topics—for essays; but no approximation to what we, +in modern days, understand by <i>essays</i>: they are, as +an eminent author once happily expressed it to myself, +'<i>seeds, not plants or shrubs; acorns, that is, oaks in +embryo, but not oaks</i>.'</p> + +<p>Reverting, however, to the oratory of the Senate, +from the era of its proper birth, which we may date +from the opening of that our memorable Long Parliament, +brought together in November of 1642,<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> our +Parliamentary eloquence has now, within four years, +travelled through a period of two centuries. A most +admirable subject for an essay, or a Magazine article, +as it strikes me, would be a bird's-eye view—or +rather a bird's-wing flight—pursuing rapidly the +revolutions of that memorable oracle (for such it +really was to the rest of civilised Europe), which, +through so long a course of years, like the Delphic +oracle to the nations of old, delivered counsels of civil +prudence and of national grandeur, that kept alive +for Christendom the recollections of freedom, and +refreshed to the enslaved Continent the old ideas of +Roman patriotism, which, but for our Parliament, +would have uttered themselves by no voices on earth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +That this account of the position occupied by our +British Parliament, in relation to the rest of Europe, +at least after the publication of the Debates had +been commenced by Cave, with the aid of Dr. Johnson, +is, in no respect, romantic or overcharged, may be +learned from the German novels of the last century, +in which we find the British debates as uniformly the +morning accompaniment of breakfast, at the houses +of the rural gentry, &c., as in any English or Scottish +county. Such a sketch would, of course, collect the +characteristics of each age, show in what connection +these characteristics stood with the political aspects +of the time, or with the modes of managing public +business (a fatal rock to our public eloquence in +England!), and illustrate the whole by interesting +specimens from the leading orators in each generation: +from Hampden to Pulteney, amongst oppositionists +or patriots; from Pulteney to O'Connell; or, again, +amongst Ministers, from Hyde to Somers, from Lord +Sunderland to Lords Oxford and Bolingbroke; and +from the plain, downright Sir Robert Walpole, to the +plain, downright Sir Robert Peel.</p> + +<p>Throughout the whole of this review, the same +'moral,' if one might so call it, would be apparent—viz. +that in proportion as the oratory was high and +intellectual, did it travel out into the collateral questions +of less instant necessity, but more durable +interest; and that, in proportion as the Grecian +necessity <i>was</i> or was <i>not</i> enforced by the temper of +the House, or by the pressure of public business—the +necessity which cripples the orator, by confining him +within the severe limits of the case before him—in +that proportion had or had not the oratory of past<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +generations a surviving interest for modern posterity. +Nothing, in fact, so utterly effete—not even old law, +or old pharmacy, or old erroneous chemistry—nothing +so insufferably dull as political orations, unless when +powerfully animated by that spirit of generalisation +which only gives the breath of life and the salt which +preserves from decay, through every age alike. The +very strongest proof, as well as exemplification of all +which has been said on Grecian oratory, may thus be +found in the records of the British senate.</p> + +<p>And this, by the way, brings us round to an aspect +of Grecian oratory which has been rendered memorable, +and forced upon our notice, in the shape of a +problem, by the most popular of our native historians—the +aspect, I mean, of Greek oratory in comparison +with English. Hume has an essay upon the subject; +and the true answer to that essay will open a wide +field of truth to us. In this little paper, Hume +assumes the superiority of Grecian eloquence, as a +thing admitted on all hands, and requiring no proof. +Not the proof of this point did he propose to himself +as his object; not even the illustration of it. No. +All that, Hume held to be superfluous. His object +was, to investigate the causes of this Grecian superiority; +or, if <i>investigate</i> is too pompous a word for so +slight a discussion, more properly, he inquired for the +cause as something that must naturally lie upon the +surface.</p> + +<p>What is the answer? First of all, before looking +for causes, a man should be sure of his facts. Now, +as to the main fact at issue, I utterly deny the +superiority of Grecian eloquence. And, first of all, I +change the whole field of inquiry by shifting the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +comparison. The Greek oratory is all political or +judicial: we have those also; but the best of our +eloquence, by immeasurable degrees, the noblest and +richest, is our religious eloquence. Here, of course, +all comparison ceases; for classical Grecian religious +eloquence, in Grecian attire, there is none until three +centuries after the Christian era, when we have three +great orators, Gregory Nazianzen, Basil—of which +two I have a very fixed opinion, having read large +portions of both—and a third of whom I know nothing. +To our Jeremy Taylor, to our Sir Thomas +Browne, there is no approach made in the Greek +eloquence. The inaugural chapter of the <i>Holy +Dying</i>, to say nothing of many another golden +passage; or the famous passage in the <i>Urn Buriall</i>, +beginning—'Now, since these bones have rested under +the drums and tramplings of three conquests'—have +no parallel in literature. The winding up of the +former is more, in its effect, like a great tempestuous +chorus from the <i>Judas Maccabeus</i>, or from Spohr's <i>St. +Paul</i>, than like human eloquence.</p> + +<p>But, grant that this transfer of the comparison is +unfair—still, it is no less unfair to confine the comparison +on our part to the weakest part of our +oratory; but no matter—let issue be joined even here. +Then we may say, at once, that, for the intellectual +qualities of eloquence, in fineness of understanding, in +depth and in large compass of thought, Burke far +surpasses any orator, ancient or modern. But, if the +comparison were pushed more widely, very certain I +am, that, apart from classical prejudice, no qualities +of just thinking, or fine expression, or even of artificial +ornament, could have been assigned by Hume,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +in which the great body of our deliberative and +forensic orators fall short of Grecian models; though +I will admit, that, by comparison with the Roman +model of Cicero, there is seldom the same artful +prefiguration of the oration throughout its future +course, or the same sustained rhythmus and oratorial +tone. The qualities of art are nowhere so prominently +expressed, nowhere aid the effect so much, as in the +great Roman master.</p> + +<p>But, as to Greece, let us now, in one word, unveil +the sole advantage which the eloquence of the Athenian +<i>assembly</i> has over that of the English senate. It is +this—<i>the public business of Athens was as yet simple +and unencumbered by details</i>; the dignity of the +occasion was scenically sustained. But, in England, +the vast intricacy and complex interweaving of property, +of commerce, of commercial interests, of details +infinite in number, and infinite in littleness, break +down and fritter away into fractions and petty +minutiæ, the whole huge labyrinth of our public +affairs. It is scarcely necessary to explain my meaning. +In Athens, the question before the public +assembly was, peace or war—before our House of +Commons, perhaps the Exchequer Bills' Bill; at +Athens, a league or no league—in England, the Tithe +of Agistment Commutation-Bills' Renewal Bill; in +Athens—shall we forgive a ruined enemy? in England—shall +we cancel the tax on farthing rushlights? In +short, with us, the infinity of details overlays the +simplicity and grandeur of our public deliberations.</p> + +<p>Such was the advantage—a mighty advantage—for +Greece. Now, finally, for the use made of this advantage. +To that point I have already spoken. By<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +the clamorous and undeliberative qualities of the +Athenian political audience, by its fitful impatience, +and vehement arrogance, and fervid partisanship, all +wide and general discussion was barred <i>in limine</i>. +And thus occurred this singular inversion of positions—the +greatest of Greek orators was obliged to treat +these Catholic questions as mere Athenian questions +of business. On the other hand, the least eloquent +of British senators, whether from the immense advance +in knowledge, or from the custom and usage of +Parliament, seldom fails, more or less, to elevate his +intense details of pure technical business into something +dignified, either by the necessities of pursuing +the <i>historical</i> relations of the matter in discussion, or +of arguing its merits as a case of general finance, or +as connected with general political economy, or, +perhaps, in its bearings on peace or war. The Grecian +was forced, by the composition of his headstrong +auditory, to degrade and personalise his grand themes; +the Englishman is forced, by the difference of his +audience, by old prescription, and by the opposition +of a well-informed, hostile party, into elevating his +merely technical and petty themes into great national +questions, involving honour and benefit to tens of +millions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="91" id="THE_GERMAN_LANGUAGE_AND"></a>THE GERMAN LANGUAGE, AND PHILOSOPHY OF KANT.</h2> + +<p><br /></p> + +<p>Using a New Testament, of which (in the narrative +parts at least) any one word being given will suggest +most of what is immediately consecutive, you evade +the most irksome of the penalties annexed to the first +breaking ground in a new language: you evade the +necessity of hunting up and down a dictionary. Your +own memory, and the inevitable suggestions of the +context, furnish a dictionary <i>pro hac vice</i>. And afterwards, +upon advancing to other books, where you are +obliged to forego such aids, and to swim without +corks, you find yourself already in possession of the +particles for expressing addition, succession, exception, +inference—in short, of all the forms by which +transition or connection is effected (<i>if</i>, <i>but</i>, <i>and</i>, <i>therefore</i>, +<i>however</i>, <i>notwithstanding</i>), together with all those +adverbs for modifying or restraining the extent of a +subject or a predicate, which in all languages alike +compose the essential frame-work or <i>extra-linear</i> +machinery of human thought. The filling-up—the +<i>matter</i> (in a scholastic sense)—may differ infinitely; +but the <i>form</i>, the periphery, the determining moulds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +into which this matter is fused—all this is the same +for ever: and so wonderfully limited in its extent is +this frame-work, so narrow and rapidly revolving is +the clock-work of connections among human thoughts, +that a dozen pages of almost any book suffice to +exhaust all the επεα πτεροεντα<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> which express them. +To have mastered these επεα πτεροεντα is in effect to +have mastered seven-tenths, at the least, of any +language; and the benefit of using a New Testament, +or the familiar parts of an Old Testament, in this preliminary +drill, is, that your own memory is thus made +to operate as a perpetual dictionary or nomenclator. +I have heard Mr. Southey say that, by carrying in +his pocket a Dutch, Swedish, or other Testament, on +occasion of a long journey performed in '<i>muggy</i>' +weather, and in the inside of some venerable 'old +heavy'—such as used to bestow their tediousness upon +our respectable fathers some thirty or forty years ago—he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +had more than once turned to so valuable an +account the doziness or the dulness of his fellow-travellers, +that whereas he had 'booked' himself at +the coach-office utterly αναλφαβητος, unacquainted +with the first rudiments of the given language, he +had made his parting bows to his coach brethren +(secretly returning thanks to them for their stupidity), +in a condition for grappling with any common book +in that dialect. One of the polyglot Old or New +Testaments published by Bagster, would be a perfect +Encyclopædia, or <i>Panorganon</i>, for such a scheme of +coach discipline, upon dull roads and in dull company. +As respects the German language in particular, I +shall give one caution from my own experience, to the +self-instructor: it is a caution which applies to the +German language exclusively, or to that more than +to any other, because the embarrassment which it is +meant to meet, grows out of a defect of taste characteristic +of the German mind. It is this: elsewhere, +you would naturally, as a beginner, resort to <i>prose</i> +authors, since the license and audacity of poetic thinking, +and the large freedom of a poetic treatment, cannot +fail to superadd difficulties of individual creation to +the general difficulties of a strange dialect. But this +rule, good for every other case, is <i>not</i> good for the +literature of Germany. Difficulties there certainly +are, and perhaps in more than the usual proportion, +from the German peculiarities of poetic treatment; +but even these are overbalanced in the result, by the +single advantage of being limited in the extent by the +metre, or (as it may happen) by the particular stanza. +To German poetry there is a known, fixed, calculable +limit. Infinity, absolute infinity, is impracticable in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +any German metre. Not so with German prose. +Style, in any sense, is an inconceivable idea to a +German intellect. Take the word in the limited sense +of what the Greeks called Συνθεσις ονοματων—<i>i. e.</i> the +construction of sentences—I affirm that a German +(unless it were here and there a Lessing) cannot admit +such an idea. Books there are in German, and, in +other respects, very good books too, which consist of +one or two enormous sentences. A German sentence +describes an arch between the rising and the setting +sun. Take Kant for illustration: he has actually +been complimented by the cloud-spinner, Frederic +Schlegel, who is now in Hades, as a most original +artist in the matter of style. 'Original' Heaven +knows he was! His idea of a sentence was as follows:—We +have all seen, or read of, an old family coach, +and the process of packing it for a journey to London +some seventy or eighty years ago. Night and day, +for a week at least, sate the housekeeper, the lady's +maid, the butler, the gentleman's gentleman, &c., +packing the huge ark in all its recesses, its 'imperials,' +its 'wills,' its 'Salisbury boots,' its 'sword-cases,' its +front pockets, side pockets, rear pockets, its 'hammer-cloth +cellars' (which a lady explains to me as a corruption +from <i>hamper-cloth</i>, as originally a cloth for hiding +a hamper, stored with <i>viaticum</i>), until all the uses and +needs of man, and of human life, savage or civilised, +were met with separate provision by the infinite chaos. +Pretty nearly upon the model of such an old family +coach packing, did Kant institute and pursue the +packing and stuffing of one of his regular sentences. +Everything that could ever be needed in the way +of explanation, illustration, restraint, inference, by-clause,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +or indirect comment, was to be crammed, +according to this German philosopher's taste, into the +front pockets, side pockets, or rear pockets, of the one +original sentence. Hence it is that a sentence will +last in reading whilst a man</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Might reap an acre of his neighbour's corn.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Nor is this any peculiarity of Kant's. It is common +to the whole family of prose writers of Germany, +unless when they happen to have studied French +models, who cultivate the opposite extreme. As a +caution, therefore, practically applied to this particular +anomaly in German prose-writing, I advise all beginners +to choose between two classes of composition—ballad +poetry, or comedy—as their earliest school of +exercise; ballad poetry, because the form of the stanza +(usually a quatrain) prescribes a very narrow range +to the sentences; comedy, because the form of dialogue, +and the imitation of daily life in its ordinary tone +of conversation, and the spirit of comedy naturally +suggesting a brisk interchange of speech, all tend to +short sentences. These rules I soon drew from my +own experience and observation. And the one sole +purpose towards which I either sought or wished for +aid, respected the pronunciation; not so much for +attaining a just one (which I was satisfied could not +be realised out of Germany, or, at least, out of a daily +intercourse with Germans) as for preventing the +formation, unawares, of a radically false one. The +guttural and palatine sounds of the <i>ch</i>, and some +other German peculiarities, cannot be acquired without +constant practice. But the false Westphalian or +Jewish pronunciation of the vowels, diphthongs, &c.,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +may easily be forestalled, though the true delicacy of +Meissen should happen to be missed. Thus much +guidance I purchased, with a very few guineas, from +my young Dresden tutor, who was most anxious for +permission to extend his assistance; but this I would +not hear of: and, in the spirit of fierce (perhaps +foolish) independence, which governed most of my +actions at that time of life, I did all the rest for +myself.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'It was a banner broad unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The picture of that western world.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These, or words like these, in which Wordsworth +conveys the sudden apocalypse, as by an apparition, +to an ardent and sympathising spirit, of the stupendous +world of America, rising, at once, like an exhalation, +with all its shadowy forests, its endless savannas, and +its pomp of solitary waters—well and truly might I +have applied to my first launching upon that vast +billowy ocean of the German literature. As a past +literature, as a literature of inheritance and tradition, +the German was nothing. Ancestral titles it had +none; or none comparable to those of England, Spain, +or even Italy; and there, also, it resembled America, +as contrasted with the ancient world of Asia, Europe, +and North Africa.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> But, if its inheritance were +nothing, its prospects, and the scale of its present +development, were in the amplest style of American +grandeur. <i>Ten thousand</i> new books, we are assured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +by Menzel, an author of high reputation—a <i>literal +myriad</i>—is considerably below the number annually +poured from all quarters of Germany, into the vast +reservoir of Leipsic; spawn infinite, no doubt, of +crazy dotage, of dreaming imbecility, of wickedness, +of frenzy, through every phasis of Babylonian confusion; +yet, also, teeming and heaving with life and +the instincts of truth—of truth hunting and chasing +in the broad daylight, or of truth groping in the +chambers of darkness; sometimes seen as it displays +its cornucopia of tropical fruitage; sometimes heard +dimly, and in promise, working its way through +diamond mines. Not the tropics, not the ocean, not +life itself, is such a type of variety, of infinite forms, +or of creative power, as the German literature, in its +recent motions (say for the last twenty years), gathering, +like the Danube, a fresh volume of power at every +stage of its advance. A banner it was, indeed, to me +of miraculous promise, and suddenly unfurled. It +seemed, in those days, an El Dorado as true and undeceiving +as it was evidently inexhaustible. And the +central object in this interminable wilderness of what +then seemed imperishable bloom and verdure—the +very tree of knowledge in the midst of this Eden—was +the new or transcendental philosophy of Immanuel +Kant.</p> + +<p>I have described the gorgeousness of my expectations +in those early days of my prelusive acquaintance +with German literature. I have a little lingered in +painting that glad aurora of my first pilgrimage to +the fountains of the Rhine and of the Danube, in +order adequately to shadow out the gloom and blight +which soon afterwards settled upon the hopes of that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +golden dawn. In Kant, I had been taught to believe, +were the keys of a new and a creative philosophy. +Either '<i>ejus ductu</i>,' or '<i>ejus auspiciis</i>'—that is, either +directly under his guidance, or indirectly under any +influence remotely derived from his principles—I +looked confidingly to see the great vistas and avenues +of truth laid open to the philosophic inquirer. Alas! +all was a dream. Six weeks' study was sufficient to +close my hopes in that quarter for ever. The philosophy +of Kant—so famous, so commanding in +Germany, from about the period of the French +Revolution—already, in 1805, I had found to be a +philosophy of destruction, and scarcely, in any one +chapter, so much as <i>tending</i> to a philosophy of reconstruction. +It destroys by wholesale, and it substitutes +nothing. Perhaps, in the whole history of man, it is +an unexampled case, that such a scheme of speculation—which +offers nothing seducing to human aspirations, +nothing splendid to the human imagination, nothing +even positive and affirmative to the human understanding—should +have been able to found an interest +so broad and deep among thirty-five millions of cultivated +men. The English reader who supposes this +interest to have been confined to academic bowers, or +the halls of philosophic societies, is most inadequately +alive to the case. Sects, heresies, schisms, by hundreds, +have arisen out of this philosophy—many thousands +of books have been written by way of teaching it, +discussing it, extending it, opposing it. And yet it +is a fact, that all its doctrines are negative—teaching, +in no case, what we <i>are</i>, but simply what we are <i>not</i> +to believe—and that all its truths are barren. Such +being its unpopular character, I cannot but imagine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +that the German people have received it with so much +ardour, from profound incomprehension of its meaning, +and utter blindness to its drift—a solution which +may seem extravagant, but is not so; for, even +amongst those who have expressly commented on this +philosophy, not one of the many hundreds whom I +have myself read, but has retracted from every attempt +to explain its dark places. In these dark places lies, +indeed, the secret of its attraction. Were light poured +into them, it would be seen that they are <i>culs-de-sac</i>, +passages that lead to nothing; but, so long as they +continue dark, it is not known whither they lead, how +far, in what direction, and whether, in fact, they may +not issue into paths connected directly with the +positive and the infinite. Were it known that upon +every path a barrier faces you insurmountable to +human steps—like the barriers which fence in the +Abyssinian valley of Rasselas—the popularity of this +philosophy would expire at once; for no popular +interest can long be sustained by speculations which, +in every aspect, are known to be essentially negative +and essentially finite. Man's nature has something +of infinity within itself, which requires a corresponding +infinity in its objects. We are told, indeed, by +Mr. Bulwer, that the Kantian system has ceased to +be of any authority in Germany—that it is defunct, +in fact—and that we have first begun to import it +into England, after its root had withered, or begun +to wither, in its native soil. But Mr. Bulwer is +mistaken. The philosophy has never withered in +Germany. It cannot even be said that its fortunes +have retrograded: they have oscillated: accidents of +taste and ability in particular professors, or caprices<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +of fashion, have given a momentary fluctuation to +this or that new form of Kantianism,—an ascendency, +for a period, to various, and, in some respects, conflicting, +modifications of the transcendental system; +but all alike have derived their power mediately from +Kant. No weapons, even if employed as hostile +weapons, are now forged in any armoury but that of +Kant; and, to repeat a Roman figure which I used +above, all the modern polemic tactics of what is called +metaphysics, are trained and made to move either +<i>ejus ductu</i> or <i>ejus auspiciis</i>. Not one of the new +systems affects to call back the Leibnitzian philosophy, +the Cartesian, or any other of earlier or later date, as +adequate to the purposes of the intellect in this day, +or as capable of yielding even a sufficient terminology. +Let this last fact decide the question of Kant's +vitality. <i>Qui bene distinguit bene docet.</i> This is an +old adage. Now, he who imposes new names upon +all the acts, the functions, and the objects of the +philosophic understanding, must be presumed to have +distinguished most sharply, and to have ascertained +with most precision, their general relations—<i>so long +as his terminology continues to be adopted</i>. This test, +applied to Kant, will show that his spirit yet survives +in Germany. Frederic Schlegel, it is true, twenty +years ago, in his lectures upon literature, assures us +that even the disciples of the great philosopher have +agreed to abandon his philosophic nomenclature. But +the German philosophic literature, since that date, +tells another tale. Mr. Bulwer is, therefore, wrong; +and, without going to Germany, looking only to +France, he will see cause to revise his sentence. +Cousin—the philosophic Cousin, the only great name<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +in philosophy for modern France—familiar as he is +with North Germany, can hardly be presumed unacquainted +with a fact so striking, if it <i>were</i> a fact, +as the extinction of a system once so triumphantly +supreme as that of Kant; and yet Mr. Bulwer, +admiring Cousin as he does, cannot but have noticed +his efforts to naturalise Kant in France. Meantime, +if it were even true that transcendentalism had lost +its hold of the public mind in Germany, <i>primâ facie</i>, +this would prove little more than the fickleness of +that public which must have been wrong in one of +the two cases—either when adopting the system, or +when rejecting it. Whatever there may be of truth +and value in the system, will remain unimpeached by +such caprices, whether of an individual or of a great +nation; and England would still be in the right to +import the philosophy, however late in the day, if it +were true even (which I doubt greatly) that she <i>is</i> +importing it.</p> + +<p>Both truth and value there certainly <i>is</i> in one part +of the Kantian philosophy; and that part is its +foundation. I had intended, at this point, to introduce +an outline of the transcendental philosophy—not, +perhaps, as entering by logical claim of right +into any biographical sketch, but as a very allowable +digression in the record of that man's life to whom, +in the way of hope and of profound disappointment, +it had been so memorable an object. For two or +three years before I mastered the language of Kant,<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +it had been a pole-star to my hopes, and <i>in hypothesi</i> +agreeably to the uncertain plans of uncertain knowledge, +the luminous guide to my future life—as a life +dedicated and set apart to philosophy. Such it was +some years <i>before</i> I knew it: for, at least ten long +years <i>after</i> I came into a condition of valueing its true +pretensions and measuring its capacities, this same +philosophy shed the gloom of something like misanthropy +upon my views and estimates of human nature; +for man was an abject animal, if the limitations which +Kant assigned to the motions of his speculative +reason were as absolute and hopeless as, under <i>his</i> +scheme of the understanding and <i>his</i> genesis of its +powers, too evidently they were. I belonged to a +reptile race, if the wings by which we had sometimes +<i>seemed</i> to mount, and the buoyancy which had <i>seemed</i> +to support our flight, were indeed the fantastic delusions +which he represented them. Such, and so deep +and so abiding in its influence upon my life, having +been the influence of this German philosophy, according +to all logic of proportions, in selecting the objects +of my notice, I might be excused for setting before +the reader, in its full array, the analysis of its capital +sections. However, in any memorial of a life which +professes to keep in view (though but as a secondary +purpose) any regard to popular taste, the logic of +proportions must bend, after all, to the law of the +occasion—to the proprieties of time and place. For +the present, therefore, I shall restrict myself to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>few sentences in which it may be proper to gratify +the curiosity of <i>some</i> readers, the two or three in a +hundred, as to the peculiar distinctions of this philosophy. +Even to these two or three out of each +hundred, I shall not venture to ascribe a larger +curiosity than with respect to the most general +'whereabouts' of its position—from what point it +starts—whence and from what aspect it surveys the +ground—and by what links from this starting-point +it contrives to connect itself with the main objects of +philosophic inquiry.</p> + +<p>Immanuel Kant was originally a dogmatist in the +school of Leibnitz and Wolf; that is, according to +his trisection of all philosophy into dogmatic, sceptical, +and critical, he was, upon all questions, disposed to a +strong <i>affirmative</i> creed, without courting any particular +examination into the grounds of this creed, or +into its assailable points. From this slumber, as it +is called by himself, he was suddenly aroused by the +Humian doctrine of cause and effect. This celebrated +essay on the nature of necessary connection—so +thoroughly misapprehended at the date of its first +publication to the world by its <i>soi-disant</i> opponents, +Oswald, Beattie, &c., and so imperfectly comprehended +since then by various <i>soi-disant</i> defenders—became in +effect the 'occasional cause' (in the phrase of the +logicians) of the entire subsequent philosophic scheme +of Kant—every section of which arose upon the +accidental opening made to analogical trains of +thought, by this memorable effort of scepticism, +applied by Hume to one capital phenomenon among +the necessities of the human understanding. What +is the nature of Hume's scepticism as applied to this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>phenomenon? What is the main thesis of his celebrated +essay on cause and effect? For few, indeed, +are they who really know anything about it. If a +man really understands it, a very few words will avail +to explain the <i>nodus</i>. Let us try. It is a necessity +of the <i>human</i> understanding (very probably not a +necessity of a higher order of intelligences) to connect +its experiences by means of the idea of <i>cause</i> and its +correlate, <i>effect</i>: and when Beattie, Oswald, Reid, &c. +were exhausting themselves in proofs of the indispensableness +of this idea, they were fighting with shadows; +for no man had ever questioned the practical necessity +for such an idea to the coherency of human thinking. +Not the practical necessity, but the internal consistency +of this notion, and the original right to such +a notion, was the point of inquisition. For, attend, +courteous reader, and three separate propositions will +set before your eyes the difficulty. <i>First Prop.</i>, which, +for the sake of greater precision, permit me to throw +into Latin:—<i>Non datur aliquid</i> [A] <i>quo posito ponitur +aliud</i> [B] <i>à priori</i>; that is, in other words, You +cannot lay your hands upon that one object or phenomenon +[A] in the whole circle of natural existences, +which, being assumed, will entitle you to assume <i>à +priori</i>, any other object whatsoever [B] as succeeding +it. You could not, I say, of any object or phenomenon +whatever, assume this succession <i>à priori</i>—that is, +<i>previously to experience</i>. <i>Second Prop.</i> But, if the succession +of B to A be made known to you, not <i>à priori</i> +(by the involution of B in the idea of A), but by +experience, then you cannot ascribe <i>necessity</i> to the +succession: the connection between them is not +necessary but contingent. For the very widest experience—an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>experience which should stretch over all +ages, from the beginning to the end of time—can +never establish a <i>nexus</i> having the least approximation +to necessity; no more than a rope of sand could gain +the cohesion of adamant, by repeating its links through +a billion of successions. <i>Prop. Third.</i> Hence (<i>i. e.</i> +from the two preceding propositions), it appears that +no instance or case of <i>nexus</i> that ever can have been +offered to the notice of any human understanding, +has in it, or, by possibility, could have had anything +of necessity. Had the <i>nexus</i> been necessary, you +would have seen it beforehand; whereas, by Prop. I. +<i>Non datur aliquid, quo posito ponitur aliud à priori.</i> +This being so, now comes the startling fact, that the +notion of a <i>cause</i> includes the notion of necessity. +For, if A (the cause) be connected with B (the effect) +only in a casual or accidental way, you do not feel +warranted in calling it a cause. If heat applied to +ice (A) were sometimes followed by a tendency to +liquefaction (B) and sometimes not, you would not +consider A connected with B as a cause, but only as +some variable accompaniment of the true and unknown +cause, which might allowably be present or be absent. +This, then, is the startling and mysterious phenomenon +of the human understanding—that, in a certain +notion, which is indispensable to the coherency of our +whole experience, indispensable to the establishing +any <i>nexus</i> between the different parts and successions +of our whole train of notices, we include an accessary +notion of necessity, which yet has no justification or +warrant, no assignable derivation from any known +or possible case of human experience. We have +one idea at least—viz. the idea of causation—which +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>transcends our possible experience by one important +element, the element of <i>necessity</i>, that never can have +been derived from the only source of ideas recognised +by the philosophy of this day. A Lockian never can +find his way out of this dilemma. The experience +(whether it be the experience of sensation or the +experience of reflection) which he adopts for his +master-key, never will unlock this case; for the sum +total of human experience, collected from all ages, can +avail only to tell us what <i>is</i>, but never what <i>must be</i>. +The idea of necessity is absolutely transcendant to +experience, <i>per se</i>, and must be derived from some +other source. From what source? Could Hume tell +us? No: he, who had started the game so acutely +(for with every allowance for the detection made in +Thomas Aquinas, of the original suggestion, as recorded +in the <i>Biographia Literaria</i> of Coleridge, we +must still allow great merit of a secondary kind to +Hume for his modern revival and restatement of the +doctrine), this same acute philosopher broke down +confessedly in his attempt to hunt the game down. +His solution is worthless.</p> + +<p>Kant, however, having caught the original scent +from Hume, was more fortunate. He saw, at a +glance, that here was a test applied to the Lockian +philosophy, which showed, at the very least, its <i>insufficiency</i>. +If it were good even for so much as it +explained—which Burke is disposed to receive as a +sufficient warrant for the favourable reception of a +new hypothesis—at any rate, it now appeared that +there was something which it could <i>not</i> explain. But +next, Kant took a large step in advance <i>proprio morte</i>. +Reflecting upon the one idea adduced by Hume, as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>transcending the ordinary source of ideas, he began +to ask himself, whether it were likely that this idea +should stand alone? Were there not other ideas in +the same predicament; other ideas including the +same element of necessity, and, therefore, equally +disowning the parentage assigned by Locke? Upon +investigation, he found that there were: he found +that there were eleven others in exactly the same +circumstances. The entire twelve he denominated +categories; and the mode by which he ascertained +their number—that there were so many and no more—is +of itself so remarkable as to merit notice in the +most superficial sketch. But, in fact, this one explanation +will put the reader in possession of Kant's +system, so far as he could understand it without an +express and toilsome study. With this explanation, +therefore, of the famous categories, I shall close my +slight sketch of the system. Has the reader ever +considered the meaning of the term <i>Category</i>—a term +so ancient and so venerable from its connection with +the most domineering philosophy that has yet appeared +amongst men? The doctrine of the Categories +(or, in its Roman appellation, of the <i>Predicaments</i>), is +one of the few wrecks from the Peripatetic philosophy +which still survives as a doctrine taught by public +authority in the most ancient academic institutions of +Europe. It continues to form a section in the code +of public instruction; and perhaps under favour of +a pure accident. For though, strictly speaking, a +<i>metaphysical</i> speculation, it has always been prefixed +as a sort of preface to the <i>Organon</i> (or <i>logical</i> treatises) +of Aristotle, and has thus accidentally shared in the +immortality conceded to that most perfect of human +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>works. Far enough were the Categories from meriting +such distinction. Kant was well aware of this: he +was aware that the Aristotelian Categories were a +useless piece of scholastic lumber: unsound in their +first conception; and, though illustrated through long +centuries by the schoolmen, and by still earlier +Grecian philosophers, never in any one known instance +turned to a profitable account. Why, then, being +aware that even in idea they were false, besides being +practically unsuitable, did Kant adopt or borrow a +name laden with this superfetation of reproach—all +that is false in theory superadded to all that is useless +in practice? He did so for a remarkable reason: he +felt, according to his own explanation, that Aristotle +had been <i>groping</i> [the German word expressive of his +blind procedure is <i>herumtappen</i>]—groping in the dark, +but under a semi-conscious instinct of truth. Here +is a most remarkable case or situation of the human +intellect, happening alike to individuals and to entire +generations—in the situation of yearning or craving, +as it were, for a great idea as yet unknown, but dimly +and uneasily prefigured. Sometimes the very brink, +as it may be called, of such an idea is approached; +sometimes it is even imperfectly discovered; but with +marks in the very midst of its imperfections, which +serve as indications to a person coming better armed +for ascertaining the sub-conscious thought which had +governed their tentative motions. As it stands in +Aristotle's scheme, the idea of a category is a mere +lifeless abstraction. Rising through a succession of +species to genera, and from these to still higher +genera, you arrive finally at a highest genus—a naked +abstraction, beyond which no further regress is possible.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +This highest genus, this <i>genus generalissimum</i>, +is, in peripatetic language, a category; and no purpose +or use has ever been assigned to any one of these +categories, of which ten were enumerated at first, +beyond that of classification—<i>i. e.</i> a purpose of mere +convenience. Even for as trivial a purpose as this, +it gave room for suspecting a failure, when it was +afterwards found that the original ten categories did +not exhaust the possibilities of the case; that other +supplementary categories (<i>post-prædicamenti</i>) became +necessary. And, perhaps, 'more last words' might +even yet be added, supplementary supplements, and +so forth, by a hair-splitting intellect. Failures as +gross as these, revisals still open to revision, and +amendments calling for amendments, were at once a +broad confession that here there was no falling in +with any great law of nature. The paths of nature +may sometimes be arrived at in a tentative way; but +they are broad and determinate; and, when found, +vindicate themselves. Still, in all this erroneous +subtilisation, and these abortive efforts, Kant perceived +a grasping at some real idea—fugitive indeed +and coy, which had for the present absolutely escaped; +but he caught glimpses of it continually in the rear; +he felt its necessity to any account of the human +understanding that could be satisfactory to one who +had meditated on Locke's theory as probed and +searched by Leibnitz. And in this uneasy state—half +sceptical, half creative, rejecting and substituting, +pulling down and building up—what was in sum and +finally the course which he took for bringing his +trials and essays to a crisis? He states this himself, +somewhere in the Introduction to his <i>Critik der reinen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +Vernunft</i>; and the passage is a memorable one. +Fifteen years at the least have passed since I read it; +and, therefore, I cannot pretend to produce the words; +but the substance I shall give; and I appeal to the +candour of all his readers, whether they have been +able to apprehend his meaning. I certainly did not +for years. But, now that I do, the passage places +his procedure in a most striking and edifying light. +Astronomers, says Kant, had gone on for ages, assuming +that the earth was the central body of our +system; and insuperable were the difficulties which +attended that assumption. At length, it occurred to +try what would result from inverting the assumption. +Let the earth, instead of offering a fixed centre for +the revolving motions of other heavenly bodies, be +supposed itself to revolve about some one of these, as +the sun. That supposition was tried, and gradually +all the phenomena which, before, had been incoherent, +anomalous, or contradictory, began to express themselves +as parts of a most harmonious system. 'Something,' +he goes on to say, 'analogous to this I have +practised with regard to the subject of my inquiry—the +human understanding. All others had sought +their central principle of the intellectual phenomena +out of the understanding, in something external to +the mind. I first turned my inquiries upon the mind +itself. I first applied my examination to the very +analysis of the understanding.' In words, not precisely +these, but pretty nearly equivalent to them, +does Kant state, by contradistinction, the value and +the nature of his own procedure. He first, according +to his own representation, thought of applying his +investigation to the mind itself. Here was a passage +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>which for years (I may say) continued to stagger and +confound me. What! he, Kant, in the latter end of +the 18th century, about the year 1787—he the first +who had investigated the mind! This was not arrogance +so much as it was insanity. Had he said—I, +first, upon just principles, or with a fortunate result, +investigated the human understanding, he would have +said no more than every fresh theorist is bound to +suppose, as his preliminary apology for claiming the +attention of a busy world. Indeed, if a writer, on +any part of knowledge, does <i>not</i> hold himself superior +to all his predecessors, we are entitled to say—Then, +why do you presume to trouble us? It may <i>look</i> like +modesty, but <i>is</i>, in effect, downright effrontery for +you to think yourself no better than other critics; +you were at liberty to think so whilst no claimant of +public notice—as being so, it is most arrogant in you +to be modest. This would be the criticism applied +justly to a man who, in Kant's situation, as the author +of a new system, should use a language of unseasonable +modesty or deprecation. To have spoken boldly +of himself was a duty; we could not tolerate his doing +otherwise. But to speak of himself in the exclusive +terms I have described, does certainly seem, and for +years did seem to myself, little short of insanity. Of +this I am sure that no student of Kant, having the +passage before him, can have known heretofore what +consistent, what rational interpretation to give it; +and, in candour, he ought to own himself my debtor +for the light he will now receive. Yet, so easy is it +to imagine, after a meaning is once pointed out, and +the station given from which it shows itself <i>as</i> the +meaning—so easy, under these circumstances, is it to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>imagine that one has, or that one could have, found +it for one's self—that I have little expectation of +reaping much gratitude for my explanation. I say +this, not as of much importance one way or the other +in a single case of the kind, but because a general +consideration of this nature has sometimes operated +to make me more indifferent or careless as to the +publication of commentaries on difficult systems, when +I had found myself able to throw much light on the +difficulties. The very success with which I should +have accomplished the task—the perfect removal of +the obstacles in the student's path—were the very +grounds of my assurance-that the service would be +little valued. For I have found what it was occasionally, +in conversation, to be too luminous—to have +explained, for instance, too clearly a dark place in +Ricardo. In such a case, I have known a man of the +very greatest powers, mistake the intellectual effort +he had put forth to apprehend my elucidation, and to +meet it half way, for his own unassisted conquest over +the difficulties; and, within an hour or two after, I +have had, perhaps, to stand, as an attack upon myself, +arguments entirely and recently furnished by myself. +No case is more possible: even to apprehend a complex +explanation, a man cannot be passive; he must exert +considerable energy of mind; and, in the fresh consciousness +of this energy, it is the most natural mistake +in the world for him to feel the argument which he +has, by considerable effort, appropriated to be an +argument which he has originated. Kant is the most +unhappy champion of his own doctrines, the most +infelicitous expounder of his own meaning, that has +ever existed. Neither has any other commentator +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>succeeded in throwing a moonlight radiance upon his +philosophy. Yet certain I am, that, were I, or any +man, to disperse all his darkness, exactly in that +proportion in which we did so—exactly in the proportion +in which we smoothed all hindrances—exactly in +that proportion would it cease to be known or felt +that there had ever been any hindrances to be +smoothed. This, however, is digression, to which I +have been tempted by the interesting nature of the +grievance. In a jesting way, this grievance is obliquely +noticed in the celebrated couplet—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Had you seen but these roads before they were made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'd lift up your hands and bless Marshal Wade.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The pleasant bull here committed conceals a most +melancholy truth, and one of large extent. Innumerable +are the services to truth, to justice, or society, +which never <i>can</i> be adequately valued by those who +reap their benefits, simply because the transition from +the early and bad state to the final or improved state +cannot be retraced or kept alive before the eyes. The +record perishes. The last point gained is seen; but +the starting-point, the points <i>from</i> which it was gained, +is forgotten. And the traveller never <i>can</i> know the +true amount of his obligations to Marshal Wade, +because, though seeing the roads which the Marshal +has created, he can only guess at those which he +superseded. Now, returning to this impenetrable +passage of Kant, I will briefly inform the reader that +he may read it into sense by connecting it with a part +of Kant's system, from which it is in his own delivery +entirely dislocated. Going forwards some thirty or +forty pages, he will find Kant's development of his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>own categories. And, by placing in juxtaposition +with that development this blind sentence, he will +find a reciprocal light arising. All philosophers, +worthy of that name, have found it necessary to +allow of some great cardinal ideas that transcended +all the Lockian origination—ideas that were larger in +their compass than any possible notices of sense or +any reflex notices of the understanding; and those +who have denied such ideas, will be found invariably +to have supported their denial by a <i>vitium subreptionis</i>, +and to have deduced their pretended genealogies of +such ideas by means of a <i>petitio principii</i>—silently +and stealthily putting <i>into</i> some step of their <i>leger-de-main</i> +process everything that they would pretend to +have extracted <i>from</i> it. But, previously to Kant, +it is certain that all philosophers had left the origin +of these higher or transcendent ideas unexplained. +Whence came they? In the systems to which, Locke +replies, they had been called <i>innate</i> or <i>connate</i>. These +were the Cartesian systems. Cudworth, again, who +maintained certain '<i>immutable ideas</i>' of morality, +had said nothing about their origin; and Plato had +supposed them to be reminiscences from some higher +mode of existence. Kant first attempted to assign +them an origin within the mind itself, though not in +any Lockian fashion of reflection upon sensible impressions. +And this is doubtless what he means by +saying that he first had investigated the mind—that +is, he first for such a purpose.</p> + +<p>Where, then, is it, in what act or function of the +mind, that Kant finds the matrix of these transcendent +ideas? Simply in the logical forms of the +understanding. Every power exerts its agency under +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>some <i>laws</i>—that is, in the language of Kant, by +certain <i>forms</i>. We leap by certain laws—viz. of +equilibrium, of muscular motion, of gravitation. We +dance by certain laws. So also we reason by certain +laws. These laws, or <i>formal</i> principles, under a +particular condition, become the categories.</p> + +<p>Here, then, is a short derivation, in a very few +words, of those ideas transcending sense, which all +philosophy, the earliest, has been unable to dispense +with, and yet none could account for. Thus, for +example, every act of reasoning must, in the first +place, express itself in distinct propositions; that is, +in such as contain a subject (or that concerning which +you affirm or deny something), a predicate (that which +you affirm or deny), and a copula, which connects +them. These propositions must have what is technically +called, in logic, a certain <i>quantity</i>, or compass +(viz. must be universal, particular, or singular); and +again they must have what is called <i>quality</i> (that is, +must be affirmative, or negative, or infinite): and +thus arises a ground for certain corresponding ideas, +which are Kant's categories of quantity and quality.</p> + +<p>But, to take an illustration more appropriately from +the very idea which first aroused Kant to the sense of +a vast hiatus in the received philosophies—the idea of +<i>cause</i>, which had been thrown as an apple of discord +amongst the schools, by Hume. How did Kant +deduce this? Simply thus: it is a doctrine of universal +logic, that there are three varieties of syllogism—viz. +1st, Categoric, or directly declarative [<i>A is B</i>]; +2nd, Hypothetic, or conditionally declarative [<i>If C is +D, then A is B</i>]; 3rd, Disjunctive, or declarative, by +means of a choice which exhausts the possible cases<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +[<i>A is either B, or C, or D; but not C or D; ergo B</i>]. +Now, the idea of <i>causation</i>, or, in Kant's language, +the category of Cause and Effect, is deduced immediately, +and most naturally, as the reader will acknowledge +on examination, from the 2nd or hypothetic form +of syllogism, when the relation of dependency is the +same as in the idea of causation, and the <i>necessary</i> +connection a direct type of that which takes place +between a cause and its effect.</p> + +<p>Thus, then, without going one step further, the +reader will find grounds enough for reflection and for +reverence towards Kant in these two great results: +1st, That an order of ideas has been established, which +all deep philosophy has demanded, even when it could +not make good its claim. This postulate is fulfilled. +2ndly, The postulate is fulfilled without mysticism or +Platonic reveries. Ideas, however indispensable to +human needs, and even to the connection of our +thoughts, which came to us from nobody knew whence, +must for ever have been suspicious; and, as in the +memorable instance cited from Hume, must have been +liable for ever to a question of validity. But, deduced +as they now are from a matrix within our own minds, +they cannot reasonably fear any assaults of scepticism.</p> + +<p>Here I shall stop. A reader new to these inquiries +may think all this a trifle. But he who reflects a +little, will see that, even thus far, and going no step +beyond this point, the Kantian doctrine of the Categories +answers a standing question hanging aloof as a +challenge to human philosophy, fills up a <i>lacuna</i> +pointed out from the era of Plato. It solves a problem +which has startled and perplexed every age: +viz. this—that man is in possession, nay, in the hourly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>exercise, of ideas larger than he can show any title to. +And in another way, the reader may measure the +extent of this doctrine, by reflecting that, even so far +as now stated, it is precisely coextensive with the +famous scheme of Locke. For what is the capital +thesis of that scheme? Simply this—that all necessity +for supposing immediate impressions made upon our +understandings by God, or other supernatural, or +antenatal, or connatal, agencies, is idle and romantic; +for that, upon examining the furniture of our minds, +nothing will be found there which cannot adequately +be explained out of our daily experience; and, until +we find something that cannot be solved by this +explanation, it is childish to go in quest of higher +causes. Thus says Locke: and his whole work, upon +its first plan, is no more than a continual pleading of +this single thesis, pursuing it through all the plausible +objections. Being, therefore, as large in its extent as +Locke, the reader must not complain of the transcendental +scheme as too narrow, even in that limited +section of it here brought under his notice.</p> + +<p>For the purpose of repelling it, he must do one of +two things: either he must show that these categories +or transcendent notions are not susceptible of the +derivation and genesis here assigned to them—that +is, from the forms of the <i>logos</i> or formal understanding; +or, if content to abide by that derivation, he +must allege that there are other categories besides +those enumerated, and unprovided with any similar +parentage.</p> + +<p>Thus much in reply to him who complains of the +doctrine here stated; as, 1st, Too narrow; or, 2nd, As +insufficiently established. But, 3rd, in reply to him +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>who wishes to see it further pursued or applied, I say +that the possible applications are perhaps infinite. +With respect to those made by Kant himself, they +are chiefly contained in his main and elementary +work, the <i>Critik der reinen Vernunft</i>; and they are of +a nature to make any man melancholy. Indeed, let +a man consider merely this one notion of <i>causation</i>; +let him reflect on its origin; let him remember that, +agreeably to this origin, it follows that we have no +right to view anything <i>in rerum naturâ</i> as objectively, +or in itself a cause; that when, upon the fullest +philosophic proof, we call A the cause of B, we do in +fact only subsume A under the notion of a cause; we +invest it with that function under that relation, that +the whole proceeding is merely with respect to a +<i>human</i> understanding, and by way of indispensable +<i>nexus</i> to the several parts of our experience; finally, +that there is the greatest reason to doubt, whether +the idea of <i>causation</i> is at all applicable to any other +world than this, or any other than a human experience. +Let a man meditate but a little on this or +other aspects of this transcendental philosophy, and +he will find the steadfast earth itself rocking as it +were beneath his feet; a world about him, which is +in some sense a world of deception; and a world +before him, which seems to promise a world of confusion, +or '<i>a world not realised</i>.' All this he might +deduce for himself without further aid from Kant. +However, the particular purposes to which Kant +applies his philosophy, from the difficulties which +beset them, are unfitted for anything below a regular +treatise. Suffice it to say here, that, difficult as these +speculations are from one or two embarrassing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>doctrines on the Transcendental Consciousness, and +depressing as they are from their general tendency, +they are yet painfully irritating to the curiosity, and +especially so from a sort of <i>experimentum crucis</i>, which +they yield in the progress of their development on +behalf of the entire doctrine of Kant—a test which, +up to this hour, has offered defiance to any hostile +hand. The test or defiance which I speak of, takes +the shape of certain <i>antinomies</i> (so they are termed), +severe adamantine arguments, affirmative and negative, +on two or three celebrated problems, with no +appeal to any possible decision, but one, which involves +the Kantian doctrines. A <i>quæstio vexata</i> is proposed—for +instance, the <i>infinite divisibility of matter</i>; each +side of this question, <i>thesis</i> and <i>antithesis</i>, is argued; +the logic is irresistible, the links are perfect, and for +each side alternately there is a verdict, thus terminating +in the most triumphant <i>reductio ad absurdum</i>—viz. +that A, at one and the same time and in the +same sense, is and is not B, from which no escape is +available, but through a Kantian solution. On any +other philosophy, it is demonstrated that this opprobrium +of the human understanding, this scandal of +logic, cannot be removed. This celebrated chapter of +<i>antinomies</i> has been of great service to the mere +polemics of the transcendental philosophy: it is a +glove or gage of defiance, constantly lying on the +ground, challenging the rights of victory and supremacy +so long as it is <i>not</i> taken up by any antagonist, +and bringing matters to a short decision when it <i>is</i>.</p> + +<p>One section, and that the introductory section, +of the transcendental philosophy, I have purposely +omitted, though in strictness not to be insulated or +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>dislocated from the faithful exposition even of that +which I have given. It is the doctrine of Space and +Time. These profound themes, so confounding to the +human understanding, are treated by Kant under two +aspects—1st, as Anchauungen, or <i>Intuitions</i> (so the +German word is usually translated for want of a +better); 2ndly, as forms, <i>à priori</i>, of all our other +intuitions. Often have I laughed internally at the +characteristic exposure of Kant's style of thinking—that +he, a man of so much worldly sagacity, could +think of offering, and of the German scholastic habits, +that any modern nation could think of accepting +such cabalistical phrases, such a true and very +'<i>Ignotium per Ignotius</i>,' in part payment of an explanatory +account of Time and Space. Kant repeats +these words—as a charm before which all darkness +flies; and he supposes continually the case of a man +denying his explanations or demanding proofs of them, +never once the sole imaginable case—viz. of all men +demanding an explanation of these explanations. +Deny them! Combat them! How should a man +deny, why should he combat, what might, for anything +to the contrary appearing, contain a promissory +note at two months after date for 100 guineas? No; +it will cost a little preliminary work before <i>such</i> +explanations will much avail any scheme of philosophy, +either for the <i>pro</i> or the <i>con</i>. And yet I do myself +really profess to understand the dark words; and a +great service it would be to sound philosophy amongst +us, if this one word <i>anschauung</i> were adequately +unfolded and naturalised (as naturalised it might be) +in the English philosophic dictionary, by some full +Grecian equivalent. Strange that no man acquainted +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>with German philosophy, should yet have been struck +by the fact—or, being struck, should not have felt it +important to call public attention to the fact of our +inevitable feebleness in a branch of study for which +as yet we want the indispensable words. Our feebleness +is at once argued by this want, and partly caused. +Meantime, as respects the Kantian way of viewing +space, by much the most important innovation which +it makes upon the old doctrines is—that it considers +space as a <i>subjective</i> not an <i>objective</i> aliquid; that is, +as having its whole available foundation lying ultimately +in ourselves, not in any external or alien +tenure. This one distinction, as applied to space, for +ever secures (what nothing else <i>can</i> secure or explain) +the cogency of geometrical evidence. Whatever is +true for any determinations of a space originally +included in ourselves, must be true for such determinations +for ever, since they cannot become objects +of consciousness to us but in and by that very mode +of conceiving space, that very form of schematism +which originally presented us with these determinations +of space, or any whatever. In the uniformity +of our own space-conceiving faculty, we have a pledge +of the absolute and <i>necessary</i> uniformity (or internal +agreement among themselves) of all future or possible +determinations of space; because they could not otherwise +become to us conceivable forms of space, than +by adapting themselves to the known conditions of +our conceiving faculty. Here we have the <i>necessity</i> +which is indispensable to all geometrical demonstration: +it is a necessity founded in our human organ, +which cannot admit or conceive a space, unless as +preconforming to these original forms or schematisms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +Whereas, on the contrary, if space were something +<i>objective</i>, and consequently being a separate existence, +independent of a human organ, then it is altogether +impossible to find any intelligible source of <i>obligation</i> +or cogency in the evidence—such as is indispensable +to the very nature of geometrical demonstration. +Thus we will suppose that a regular demonstration +has gradually, from step to step downwards, through +a series of propositions—No. 8 resting upon 7, that +upon 5, 5 upon 3—at length reduced you to the +elementary axiom, that Two straight lines cannot +enclose a space. Now, if space be <i>subjective</i> originally—that +is to say, founded (as respects us and our +geometry) in ourselves—then it is impossible that two +such lines can enclose a space, because the possibility +of anything whatever relating to the determinations +of space is exactly co-extensive with (and exactly +expressed by) our power to conceive it. Being thus +able to affirm its impossibility universally, we can +build a demonstration upon it. But, on the other +hypothesis, of space being <i>objective</i>, it is impossible to +guess whence we are to draw our proof of the alleged +inaptitude in two straight lines for enclosing a space. +The most we could say is, that hitherto no instance +has been found of an enclosed space circumscribed by +two straight lines. It would not do to allege our +human inability to conceive, or in imagination to +draw, such a circumscription. For, besides that such +a mode of argument is exactly the one supposed to +have been rejected, it is liable to this unanswerable +objection, so long as space is assumed to have an +<i>objective</i> existence, viz. that the human inability to +conceive such a possibility, only argues (what in fact +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>is often found in other cases) that the <i>objective</i> existence +of space—<i>i. e.</i> the existence of space in itself, and +in its absolute nature—is far larger than its subjective +existence—<i>i. e.</i> than its mode of existing <i>quoad</i> some +particular subject. A being more limited than man +might be so framed as to be unable to conceive curve +lines; but this subjective inaptitude for those determinations +of space would not affect the objective reality +of curves, or even their subjective reality for a higher +intelligence. Thus, on the hypothesis of an objective +existence for space, we should be thrown upon an +ocean of possibilities, without a test for saying what +was—what was not possible. But, on the other +hypothesis, having always in the last resort what is +<i>subjectively</i> possible or impossible (<i>i. e.</i> what is conceivable +or not by us, what can or cannot be drawn +or circumscribed by a human imagination), we have +the means of demonstration in our power, by having +the ultimate appeals in our power to a known uniform +test—viz. a known human faculty.</p> + +<p>This is no trifling matter, and therefore no trifling +advantage on the side of Kant and his philosophy, to +all who are acquainted with the disagreeable controversies +of late years among French geometricians +of the first rank, and sometimes among British ones, +on the question of mathematical evidence. Legendre +and Professor Leslie took part in one such a dispute; +and the temper in which it was managed was worthy +of admiration, as contrasted with the angry controversies +of elder days, if, indeed, it did not err in +an opposite spirit, by too elaborate and too calculating +a tone of reciprocal flattery. But think as we may of +the discussion in this respect, most assuredly it was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>painful to witness so infirm a philosophy applied to +an interest so mighty. The whole aerial superstructure—the +heaven-aspiring pyramid of geometrical +synthesis—all tottered under the palsying logic of +evidence, to which these celebrated mathematicians +appealed. And wherefore?—From the want of any +philosophic account of space, to which they might +have made a common appeal, and which might have +so far discharged its debt to truth, as at least to +reconcile its theory with the great outstanding phenomena +in the most absolute of sciences. Geometry +is the <i>science</i> of space: therefore, in any <i>philosophy</i> of +space, geometry is entitled to be peculiarly considered, +and used as a court of appeal. Geometry has these +two further claims to distinction—that, 1st, It is the +most perfect of the sciences, so far as it has gone; +and, 2ndly, That it has gone the farthest. A philosophy +of space, which does not consider and does not reconcile +to its own doctrines the facts of geometry, which, +in the two points of beauty and of vast extent, is +more like a work of nature than of man, is, <i>primâ +facie</i>, of no value. A philosophy of space <i>might</i> be +false, which should harmonise with the facts of +geometry—it <i>must</i> be false, if it contradict them. +Of Kant's philosophy it is a capital praise, that its +very opening section—that section which treats the +question of space, not only quadrates with the facts +of geometry, but also, by the <i>subjective</i> character +which it attributes to space, is the very first philosophic +scheme which explains and accounts for the +cogency of geometrical evidence.</p> + +<p>These are the two primary merits of the transcendental +theory—1st, Its harmony with mathematics, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>and the fact of having first, by its doctrine of space, +applied philosophy to the nature of geometrical +evidence; 2ndly, That it has filled up, by means of +its doctrine of categories, the great <i>hiatus</i> in all +schemes of the human understanding from Plato +downwards. All the rest, with a reserve as to the +part which concerns the <i>practical</i> reason (or will), is +of more questionable value, and leads to manifold +disputes. But I contend, that, had transcendentalism +done no other service than that of laying a foundation, +sought but not found for ages, to the human understanding—namely, +by showing an intelligible genesis +to certain large and indispensable ideas—it would +have claimed the gratitude of all profound inquiries. +To a reader still disposed to undervalue Kant's service +in this respect, I put one parting question—Wherefore +he values Locke? What has <i>he</i> done, even if value is +allowed in full to his pretensions? Has the reader +asked himself <i>that</i>? He gave a <i>negative</i> solution at +the most. He told his reader that certain disputed +ideas were <i>not</i> deduced thus and thus. Kant, on the +other hand, has given him at the least a <i>positive</i> +solution. He teaches him, in the profoundest revelation, +by a discovery in the most absolute sense on +record, and the most entirely a single act—without +parts, or contributions, or stages, or preparations from +other quarters—that these long disputed ideas could +not be derived from the experience assigned by Locke, +inasmuch as they are themselves <i>previous conditions +under which any experience at all is possible</i>: he teaches +him that these ideas are not mystically originated, +but are, in fact, but another phasis of the functions, +or, forms of his own understanding; and, finally, he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>gives consistency, validity, and a charter of authority, +to certain modes of <i>nexus</i>, without which the sum +total of human experience would be a rope of sand.</p> + +<p>In terminating this slight account of the Kantian +philosophy, I may mention that in or about the year +1818-19, Lord Grenville, when visiting the lakes of +England, observed to Professor Wilson that, after five +years' study of this philosophy, he had not gathered +from it one clear idea. Wilberforce, about the same +time, made the same confession to another friend of +my own.</p> + +<p>It is not usual for men to meet with their capital +disappointments in early life, at least not in youth. +For, as to disappointments in love, which are doubtless +the most bitter and incapable of comfort, though +otherwise likely to arise in youth, they are in this +way made impossible at a very early age, that no +man can be in love to the whole extent of his capacity, +until he is in full possession of all his faculties, and +with the sense of dignified maturity. A perfect love, +such as is necessary to the anguish of a perfect disappointment, +presumes also for its object not a mere +girl, but woman, mature both in person and character, +and womanly dignity. This sort of disappointment, +in a degree which could carry its impression through +life, I cannot therefore suppose occurring earlier than +at twenty-five or twenty-seven. My disappointment—the +profound shock with which I was repelled from +German philosophy, and which thenceforwards tinged +with cynical disgust towards man in certain aspects, +a temper which, originally, I will presume to consider +the most benign that can ever have been created—occurred +when I was yet in my twentieth year. In +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>a poem under the title of <i>Saul</i>, written many years +ago by Mr. Sotheby, and perhaps now forgotten, +having never been popular, there occurs a passage of +some pathos, in which Saul is described as keeping +amongst the splendid equipments of a royal wardrobe, +that particular pastoral habit which he had worn in +his days of earliest manhood, whilst yet humble and +undistinguished by honour, but also yet innocent and +happy. There, also, with the same care, he preserved +his shepherd's crook, which, in hands of youthful +vigour, had been connected with remembrances of +heroic prowess. These memorials, in after times of +trouble or perplexity, when the burthen of royalty, +its cares, or its feverish temptations, pointed his +thoughts backwards, for a moment's relief, to scenes +of pastoral gaiety and peace, the heart-wearied prince +would sometimes draw from their repository, and in +solitude would apostrophise them separately, or commune +with the bitter-sweet remembrances which they +recalled. In something of the same spirit—but with +a hatred to the German philosopher such as men are +represented as feeling towards the gloomy enchanter, +Zamiel or whomsoever, by whose hateful seductions +they have been placed within a circle of malign influences—did +I at times revert to Kant: though for +me his power had been of the very opposite kind; not +an enchanter's, but the power of a disenchanter—and +a disenchanter the most profound. As often as I +looked into his works, I exclaimed in my heart, with +the widowed queen of Carthage, using her words in +an altered application—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Quæsivit lucem—<i>ingemuitque repertâ</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Had the transcendental philosophy corresponded to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>my expectations, and had it left important openings +for further pursuit, my purpose then was, to have +retired, after a few years spent in Oxford, to the +woods of Lower Canada. I had even marked out the +situation for a cottage and a considerable library, +about seventeen miles from Quebec. I planned +nothing so ambitious as a scheme of <i>Pantisocracy</i>. +My object was simply profound solitude, such as +cannot now be had in any part of Great Britain—with +two accessary advantages, also peculiar to +countries situated in the circumstances and under the +climate of Canada: viz. the exalting presence in an +under-consciousness of forests endless and silent, the +everlasting sense of living amongst forms so ennobling +and impressive, together with the pleasure attached +to natural agencies, such as frost, more powerfully +manifested than in English latitudes, and for a much +longer period. I hope there is nothing fanciful in all +this. It is certain that, in England, and in all +moderate climates, we are too slightly reminded of +nature or the focus of nature. Great heats, or great +colds (and in Canada there are both), or great hurricanes, +as in the West Indian latitudes, recall us +continually to the sense of a powerful presence, investing +our paths on every side; whereas, in England, +it is possible to forget that we live amongst greater +agencies than those of men and human institutions. +Man, in fact, 'too much man,' as Timon complained +most reasonably in Athens, was then, and is now, our +greatest grievance in England. Man is a weed everywhere +too rank. A strange place must that be with +us, from which the sight of a hundred men is not +before us, or the sound of a thousand about us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nevertheless, being in this hotbed of man inevitably +for some years, no sooner had I dismissed my +German philosophy than I relaxed a little that spirit +of German abstraction which it had prompted; and, +though never mixing freely with society, I began to +look a little abroad. It may interest the reader, +more than anything else which I can record of this +period, to recall what I saw within the ten first years +of the century, that was at all noticeable or worthy +of remembrance amongst the literati, the philosophers, +or the poets of the time. For, though I am not in +my academic period from 1804 to 1808, my knowledge +of literary men—or men distinguished in some +way or other, either by their opinions, their accomplishments, +or their position and the accidents of their +lives—began from the first year of the century, or, +more accurately, from the year 1800; which, with +some difficulty and demurs, and with some arguments +from the Laureate Pye, the world was at length +persuaded to consider the last year of the eighteenth +century.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="130" id="MORAL_EFFECTS_OF_REVOLUTIONS"></a>MORAL EFFECTS OF REVOLUTIONS.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>May, 1822.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>In revolutionary times, as when a civil war prevails +in a country, men are much worse, as moral beings, +than in quiet and untroubled states of peace. So +much is matter of history. The English, under Charles +II., after twenty years' agitation and civil tumults; +the Romans after Sylla and Marius, and the still more +bloody proscriptions of the Triumvirates; the French, +after the Wars of the League and the storms of the +Revolution—were much changed for the worse, and +exhibited strange relaxations of the moral principle. +But why? What is the philosophy of the case? +Some will think it sufficiently explained by the necessity +of witnessing so much bloodshed—the hearths +and the very graves of their fathers polluted by the +slaughter of their countrymen—the <i>acharnement</i> +which characterises civil contests (as always the +quarrels of friends are the fiercest)—and the license +of wrong which is bred by war and the majesties of +armies. Doubtless this is part of the explanation. +But is this all? Mr. Coleridge has referred to this +subject in <i>The friend</i>; but, to the best of my remembrance, +only noticing it as a fact. Fichte, the +celebrated German philosopher, has given us his view +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>of it (<i>Idea of War</i>); and it is so ingenious, that +it deserves mention. It is this—'Times of revolution +force men's minds inwards: hence they are led +amongst other things to meditate on morals with +reference to their own conduct. But to subtilise +too much upon this subject must always be ruinous +to morality, with all understandings that are not very +powerful, <i>i. e.</i> with the majority, because it terminates +naturally in a body of maxims a specious and covert +self-interest. Whereas, when men meditate less, they +are apt to act more from natural feeling, in which +the natural goodness of the heart often interferes to +neutralise or even to overbalance its errors.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="132" id="PREFIGURATIONS_OF_REMOTE"></a>PREFIGURATIONS OF REMOTE EVENTS. +<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor"><small><small>[24]</small></small></a></h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>April, 1823.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>With a total disbelief in all the vulgar legends of +supernatural agency, and <i>that</i> upon firmer principles +than I fear most people could assign for their incredulity, +I must yet believe that the 'soul of the +world' has in some instances sent forth mysterious +types of the cardinal events, in the great historic +drama of our planet. One has been noticed by a +German author, and it is placed beyond the limits +of any rational scepticism; I mean the coincidence +between the augury derived from the flight of the +twelve vultures as types of the duration of the Roman +empire, <i>i. e.</i> Western Empire, for twelve centuries, +and the actual event. This augury we know to +have been recorded many centuries before its consummation; +so that no juggling or collusion between +the prophets and the witnesses to the final event can +be suspected. Some others might be added. At +present I shall notice a coincidence from our own +history, which, though not so important as to come +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>within the class of prefigurations I have been alluding +to, is yet curious enough to deserve mention. The +oak of Boscobel and its history are matter of household +knowledge. It is not equally well known, that +in a medal, struck to commemorate the installation +(about 1636) of Charles II., then Prince of Wales, as +a Knight of the Garter, amongst the decorations was +introduced an oak-tree with the legend—'Seris factura +nepotibus umbram.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="134" id="MEASURE_OF_VALUE25"></a>MEASURE OF VALUE.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor"><small><small>[25]</small></small></a></h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>December, 1823.</i>)</p> + +<p>To the reader.—This article was written and printed before the +author heard of the lamented death of Mr. Ricardo.</p> + +<p><br /></p> +<p>It is remarkable at first sight that Mr. Malthus, +to whom Political Economy is so much indebted in +one chapter (viz. the chapter of Population), should +in every other chapter have stumbled at every step. +On a nearer view, however, the wonder ceases. His +failures and his errors have arisen in all cases from +the illogical structure of his understanding; his +success was in a path which required no logic. What +is the brief abstract of his success? It is this: <i>he +took an obvious and familiar truth, which until his +time had been a barren truism, and showed that it +teemed with consequences</i>. Out of this position—<i>That +in the ground which limited human food lay the ground +which limited human increase</i>—united with this other +position—<i>That there is a perpetual nisus in the principle +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>of population to pass that limit</i>, he unfolded a body of +most important corollaries. I have remarked in +another article on this subject—how entirely these +corollaries had escaped all Mr. Malthus's<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> predecessors +in the same track. Perhaps the most striking instance +of this, which I could have alleged, is that +of the celebrated French work—<i>L'Ami des Hommes, +ou Traité de la Population</i> (written about the middle +of the last century), which sets out deliberately +from this principle, expressed almost in the very +words of Mr. Malthus,—'<i>Que la mésure de la Subsistance +est celle de la Population</i>;'—beats the bushes +in every direction about it; and yet (with the exception +of one corollary on the supposed depopulating +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>tendency of war and famine) deduces from it none +but erroneous and Anti-Malthusian doctrines. That +from a truth apparently so barren any corollaries +were deducible—was reserved for Mr. Malthus to +show. <i>As</i> corollaries, it may be supposed that they +imply a logical act of the understanding. In some +small degree, no doubt; but no more than necessarily +accompanies every exercise of reason. Though inferences, +they are not remote inferences, but immediate +and proximate; and not dependent upon each other, +but collateral. Not logic but a judicious choice of +his ground placed Mr. Malthus at once in a station +from which he commanded the whole truth at a +glance—with a lucky dispensation from all necessity +of continuous logical processes. But such a dispensation +is a privilege indulged to few other parts of +Political Economy, and least of all to that which is +the foundation of all Political Economy, viz. the +doctrine of value. Having therefore repeatedly +chosen to tamper with this difficult subject, Mr. +Malthus has just made so many exposures of his intellectual +infirmities—which, but for this volunteer +display, we might never have known. Of all the men +of talents, whose writings I have read up to this +hour, Mr. Malthus has the most perplexed understanding. +He is not only confused himself, but is +the cause that confusion is in other men. Logical +perplexity is shockingly contagious: and he, who +takes Mr. Malthus for his guide through any tangled +question, ought to be able to box the compass very +well; or before he has read ten pages he will find +himself (as the Westmorland guides express it) +'maffled,'—and disposed to sit down and fall a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>crying with his guide at the sad bewilderment into +which they have both strayed. It tends much to +heighten the sense of Mr. Malthus's helplessness in +this particular point—that of late years he has given +himself the air too much of teasing Mr. Ricardo, one +of the 'ugliest customers' in point of logic that ever +entered the ring. Mr. Ricardo is a most 'dangerous' +man; and Mr. Malthus would do well not to meddle +with so 'vicious' a subject, whose arm (like Neate's) +gives a blow like the kick of a horse. He has +hitherto contented himself very good-naturedly with +gently laying Mr. Malthus on his back; but, if he +should once turn round with a serious determination +to 'take the conceit' out of him, Mr. Malthus would +assuredly be 'put into chancery,' and suffer a +'punishment' that must distress his friends.—Amongst +those whom Mr. Malthus has perplexed by +his logic, I am not one: in matter of logic, I hold +myself impeccable; and, to say nothing of my sober +days, I defy the devil and all the powers of darkness +to get any advantage over me, even on those days +when I am drunk, in relation to 'Barbara, Celarent, +Darii, or Ferio.'</p> + +<p>'Avoid, old Satanas!' I exclaim, if any man +attempts to fling dust in my eyes by false syllogism, +or any mode of dialectic sophism. And in relation +to this particular subject of value, I flatter myself +that in a paper expressly applied to the exposure of +Mr. Malthus's blunders in his Political Economy, I +have made it impossible for Mr. Malthus, even +though he should take to his assistance seven worse +logicians than himself, to put down my light with +their darkness. Meantime, as a labour of shorter +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>compass, I will call the reader's attention to the +following blunder, in a later work of Mr. Malthus's—viz. +a pamphlet of eighty pages, entitled, <i>The +Measure of Value, stated and applied</i> (published in +the spring of the present year). The question proposed +in this work is the same as that already discussed +in his Political Economy—viz. What is the +measure of value? But the answer to it is different: +in the Political Economy, the measure of value was +determined to be a mean between corn and labour; +in this pamphlet, Mr. Malthus retracts that opinion, +and (finally, let us hope) settles it to his own satisfaction +that the true measure is labour; not the +quantity of labour, observe, which will produce X, +but the quantity which X will command. Upon +these two answers, and the delusions which lie at +their root, I shall here forbear to comment; because +I am now chasing Mr. Malthus's <i>logical</i> blunders; +and these delusions are not so much logical as +economic: what I now wish the reader to attend to—is +the blunder involved in the question itself; because +that blunder is not economic, but logical. The +question is—what is the measure of value? I say +then that the phrase—'measure of value' is an +equivocal phrase; and, in Mr. Malthus's use of it, +means indifferently that which determines value, in +relation to the <i>principium essendi</i>, and that which +determines value, in relation to the <i>principium cognoscendi</i>. +Here, perhaps, the reader will exclaim—'Avoid, +Satanas!' to me, falsely supposing that I +have some design upon his eyes, and wish to blind +them with learned dust. But, if he thinks <i>that</i>, he +is in the wrong box: I must and will express scholastic +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>phrases; but, having once done this, I am then +ready to descend into the arena with no other +weapons than plain English can furnish. Let us +therefore translate '<i>measure of value</i>' into '<i>that which +determines value</i>:' and, in this shape, we shall detect +the ambiguity of which I complain. For I say, that +the word <i>determines</i> may be taken subjectively for +what determines X in relation to our knowledge, or +objectively for what determines X in relation to +itself. Thus, if I were to ask—'What determined +the length of the racecourse?' and the answer +were—'The convenience of the spectators who could +not have seen the horses at a greater distance,' or +'The choice of the subscribers,' then it is plain that +by the word 'determined,' I was understood to mean +'determined objectively,' <i>i. e.</i> in relation to the existence +of the object; in other words, what <i>caused</i> the +racecourse to be this length rather than another +length: but, if the answer were—'An actual +admeasurement,' it would then be plain that by the +word 'determined,' I had been understood to mean +'determined subjectively,' <i>i. e.</i> in relation to our +knowledge;—what ascertained it?—Now, in the +objective sense of the phrase, 'determiner of value,' +the measure of value will mean <i>the ground of value</i>: +in the subjective sense, it will mean <i>the criterion of +value</i>. Mr. Malthus will allege that he is at liberty +to use it in which sense he pleases. Grant that he is, +but not therefore in both. Has he then used it in +both? He will, perhaps, deny that he has, and will +contend that he has used it in the latter sense as +equivalent to the <i>ascertainer</i> or <i>criterion of value</i>. +I answer—No: for, omitting a more particular +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>examination of his use in this place, I say that his use +of any word is peremptorily and in defiance of his +private explanation to be extorted from the use of +the corresponding term in him whom he is opposing. +Now he is opposing Mr. Ricardo: his <i>labour which X +commands</i>—is opposed to Mr. Ricardo's <i>quantity of +labour which will produce X</i>. Call the first A, the +last B. Now, in making B the determiner of value, +Mr. Ricardo means that B is the ground of value: +<i>i. e.</i> that B is the answer to the question—what +makes this hat of more value than this pair of shoes? +But, if Mr. Malthus means by A the same thing, +when by his own confession he has used the term +<i>measure of value</i> in two senses: on the other hand, +if he does not mean the same thing, but simply the +<i>criterion</i> of value, then he has not used the word in +my sense which opposes him to Mr. Ricardo. And +yet he advances the whole on that footing. On +either ground, therefore, he is guilty of a logical +error, which implies that, so far from answering his +own question, he did not know what his own question +was.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="141" id="LETTER_IN_REPLY_TO_HAZLITT_CONCERNING"></a>LETTER IN REPLY TO HAZLITT CONCERNING THE MALTHUSIAN DOCTRINE OF POPULATION.</h2> + +<p><br /></p> +<p class="center">THE LION'S HEAD.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> + +<p class="center"><i>To the Editor of the London Magazine.</i><br /> + +<i>Westmoreland, November 4, 1823.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>My dear Sir,—This morning I received your parcel, +containing amongst other inclosures, the two last +numbers of your journal. In the first of these is +printed a little paper of mine on Mr. Malthus; and +in the second I observe a letter from Mr. Hazlitt—alleging +two passages from the 403rd and 421st pages +of his <i>Political Essays</i> as substantially anticipating +all that I had said. I believe that he <i>has</i> anticipated +me: in the passage relating to the geometric and +arithmetic ratios, it is clear that he has: in the other +passage, which objects to Mr. Malthus's use of the +term <i>perfection</i>, that he has represented it under contradictory +predicates, it is not equally clear; for I do +not find my own meaning so rigorously expressed as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>to exclude another<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> interpretation even now when I +know what to look for; and, without knowing what to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>look for, I should certainly not have found it: on the +whole, however, I am disposed to think that Mr. +Hazlitt's meaning is the same as my own. So much +for the <i>matter</i> of Mr. Hazlitt's communication: as to +the <i>manner</i>, I am sorry that it is liable to a construction +which perhaps was not intended. Mr. Hazlitt says—'I +do not wish to bring any charge of plagiarism in this +case;' words which are better fitted to express his own +forbearance, than to exonerate me from the dishonour +of such an act. But I am unwilling to suppose that Mr. +Hazlitt has designedly given this negative form to his +words. He says also—'as I have been a good deal +abused for my scepticism on that subject, I do not feel +quite disposed that any one else should run away with +the credit of it.' Here again I cannot allow myself to +think that Mr. Hazlitt meant deliberately to bring +me before the reader's mind under the odious image +of a person who was 'running away' with the credit +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>of another. As to 'credit,' Mr. Hazlitt must permit +me to smile when I read that word used in that +sense: I can assure him that not any abstract consideration +of credit, but the abstract idea of a credi<i>tor</i> +(often putting on a concrete shape, and sometimes +the odious concrete of a dun) has for some time past +been the animating principle of my labours. Credit +therefore, except in the sense of twelve months' credit +where now alas! I have only six, is no object of my +search: in fact I abhor it: for to be a 'noted' man +is the next bad thing to being a 'protested' man. +Seriously, however, I sent you this as the first of four +notes which I had written on the logical blunders of +Mr. Malthus (the other three being taken not from +his Essay on Population, but from works more expressly +within the field of Political Economy): not +having met with it elsewhere, I supposed it my own +and sent it to complete the series: but the very first +sentence, which parodies the words of Chancellor +Oxenstiern—('Go and see—how <i>little</i> logic is required,' +&c.), sufficiently shows that, so far from arrogating +any great merit to myself for this discovery, I thought +it next to miraculous that it should have escaped any +previous reviewer of Mr. Malthus.—I must doubt, by +the way, whether Mr. Hazlitt has been 'a good deal +abused' for these specific arguments against Mr. +Malthus; and my reason for doubting is this: about +ten or twelve years ago, happening to be on a visit to +Mr. Southey, I remember to have met with a work +of Mr. Hazlitt's on this subject—<i>not</i> that which he +quotes, but another (<i>Reply to Malthus</i>) which he refers +to as containing the same opinions (either <i>totidem +verbis</i>, or in substance). In Mr. Southey's library, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>and in competition with Mr. Southey's conversation, +a man may be pardoned for not studying any one +book exclusively: consequently, though I read a good +deal of Mr. Hazlitt's <i>Reply</i>, I read it cursorily: +but, in all that I <i>did</i> read, I remember that the +arguments were very different from those which he +now alleges; indeed it must be evident that the two +logical objections in question are by no means fitted +to fill an octavo volume. My inference therefore is—that +any 'abuse,' which Mr. Hazlitt may have met +with, must have been directed to something else in +his <i>Reply</i>; and in fact it has happened to myself on +several occasions to hear this book of Mr. Hazlitt's +treated as unworthy of his talents; but never on +account of the two arguments which he now claims. +I would not be supposed, in saying this, to insinuate +any doubt that these arguments are really to be found +in the <i>Reply</i>; but simply to suggest that they do +not come forward prominently or constitute the +main argument of that book: and consequently, +instead of being opposed, have been overlooked by +those who have opposed him as much as they were +by myself.</p> + +<p>Finally, Mr. Hazlitt calls the coincidence of my +objections with his own 'striking:' and thus (though +unintentionally, I dare say) throws the reader's attention +upon it as a very surprising case. Now in +this there is a misconception which, apart from any +personal question between Mr. Hazlitt and myself, is +worth a few words on its own account for the sake of +placing it in a proper light. I affirm then that, +considering its nature, the coincidence is <i>not</i> a striking +one, if by 'striking' be meant surprising: and I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>affirm also that it would not have been the more +striking if, instead of two, it had extended to two +hundred similar cases. Supposing that a thousand +persons were required severally to propose a riddle, +no conditions or limitations being expressed as to the +terms of the riddle, it would be surprising if any two +in the whole thousand should agree: suppose again +that the same thousand persons were required to +solve a riddle, it would now be surprising if any two +in the whole thousand should differ. Why? Because, +in the first case, the act of the mind is an act of +synthesis; and there we may readily conceive a +thousand different roads for any one mind; but, in +the second case, it is an analytic act; and there we +cannot conceive of more than one road for a thousand +minds. In the case between Mr. Hazlitt and myself +there was a double ground of coincidence for any +possible number of writers: first the object was +given; <i>i. e.</i> we were not left to an unlimited choice of +the propositions we were to attack; but Mr. Malthus +had himself, by insisting on two in particular (however +erroneously) as the capital propositions of his +system, determined our attention to these two as the +assailable points: secondly, not only was the object +given—<i>i. e.</i> not only was it predetermined for us +where<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> the error must lie, if there were an error; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>but the nature of that error, which happened to be +logical, predetermined for us the nature of the solution. +Errors which are such <i>materialiter</i>, <i>i. e.</i> which +offend against our <i>knowing</i>, may admit of many +answers—involving more and less of truth. But +errors, which are such logically, <i>i. e.</i> which offend +against the form (or internal law) of our <i>thinking</i>, +admit of only one answer. Except by failing of any +answer at all, Mr. Hazlitt and I could not <i>but</i> coincide: +as long as we had the same propositions to +examine (which were not of our own choice, but +pointed out to us <i>ab extra</i>), and as long as we understood +those propositions in the same sense, no variety +was possible except in the expression and manner of +our answers; and to that extent a variety exists. +Any other must have arisen from our understanding +that proposition in a different sense.</p> + +<p>My answer to Mr. Hazlitt therefore is—that in +substance I think his claim valid; and though it is +most true that I was not aware of any claim prior to +my own, I now formally forego any claim on my own +part to the credit of whatsoever kind which shall ever +arise from the two objections to Mr. Malthus's logic +in his <i>Essay on Population</i>. In saying this, however, +and acknowledging therefore a coincidence with Mr. +Hazlitt in those two arguments, I must be understood +to mean a coincidence only in what really belongs to +them; meantime Mr. Hazlitt has used two expressions +in his letter to yourself which seem to connect +with those propositions other opinions from which I +dissent: that I may not therefore be supposed to +extend my acquiescence in Mr. Hazlitt's views to +these points, I add two short notes upon them: which +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>however I have detached from this letter—as forming +no proper part of its business.—Believe me, my dear +Sir, your faithful humble servant. X.Y.Z.</p> + +<p>1. Mr. Hazlitt represents Mr. Malthus's error in +regard to the different ratios of progression as a +<i>mathematical</i> error; but the other error he calls +<i>logical</i>. This may seem to lead to nothing important: +it is however not for any purpose of verbal cavil that +I object to this distinction, and contend that both +errors are logical. For a little consideration will +convince the reader that he, who thinks the first +error mathematical, will inevitably miss the true +point where the error of Mr. Malthus arises; and the +consequence of that will be—that he will never +understand the Malthusians, nor ever make himself +understood by them. Mr. Hazlitt says, 'a bushel of +wheat will sow a whole field: the produce of that +will sow twenty fields.' Yes: but this is not the +point which Mr. Malthus denies: this he will willingly +grant: neither will he deny that such a progression +goes on by geometrical ratios. If he did, then it is +true that his error would be a mathematical one. +But all this he will concede. Where then lies his +error? Simply in this—that he assumes (I do not +mean in words, but it is manifestly latent in all that +he says) that the wheat shall be continually resown +on the same area of land: he will not allow of Mr. +Hazlitt's 'twenty fields:' keep to your original field, +he will say. In this lies his error: and the nature of +that error is—that he insists upon shaping the case +for the wheat in a way which makes it no fair analogy +to the case which he has shaped for man. That it is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>unfair is evident: for Mr. Malthus does not mean to +contend that his men will go on by geometrical progression; +or even by arithmetical, upon the <i>same</i> +quantity of food: no! he will himself say the positive +principle of increase must concur with the same sort +of increase in the external (negative) condition, which +is food. Upon what sort of logic therefore does he +demand that his wheat shall be thrown upon the +naked power of its positive principle, <i>not</i> concurring +with the same sort of increase in the negative condition, +which in this case is land? It is true that at +length we shall come to the end of the land, because +that is limited: but this has nothing to do with the +race between man and his food, so long as the race is +possible. The race is imagined for the sake of trying +their several powers: and the terms of the match +must be made equal. But there is no equality in the +terms as they are supposed by Mr. Malthus. The +amount therefore is—that the case which Mr. Malthus +everywhere supposes and reasons upon, is a case of +false analogy: that is, it is a logical error. But, +setting aside the unfairness of the case, Mr. Malthus +is perfectly right in his mathematics. If it were fair +to demand that the wheat should be constantly +confined to the same space of land, it is undeniable +that it could never yield a produce advancing by a +geometrical progression, but at the utmost by a very +slow arithmetical progression. Consequently, taking +the case as Mr. Malthus puts it, he is right in calling +it a case of arithmetical progression: and his error is +in putting that case as a logical counterpart to his +other case.</p> + +<p>2. Mr. Hazlitt says—'This, Mr. Editor, is the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>writer whom "our full senate call all-in-all sufficient."'—And +why not? I ask. Mr. Hazlitt's inference is—that, +because two propositions in Mr. Malthus's +Essay are overthrown, and because these two are +propositions to which Mr. Malthus ascribes a false +importance, in relation to his theory, therefore that +theory is overthrown. But, if an architect, under +some fancied weakness of a bridge which is really +strong and self-supported, chooses to apply needless +props, I shall not injure the bridge by showing these +to be rotten props and knocking them away. What +is the real strength and the real use of Mr. Malthus's +theory of population, cannot well be shown, except +in treating of Political Economy. But as to the +influence of his logical errors upon that theory, I +contend that it is none at all. It is one error to +affirm a different law of increase for man and for +his food: it is a second error to affirm of a perfect +state an attribute of imperfection: but in my judgment +it is a third error, as great as either of the +others, to suppose that these two errors can at all +affect the Malthusian doctrine of Population. Let +Mr. Malthus say what he will, the first of those +errors is not the true foundation of that doctrine; +the second of those errors does not contain its true +application.</p> + +<p>Two private communications on the paper which +refuted Mr. Malthus, both expressed in terms of +personal courtesy, for which I am bound to make my +best acknowledgments, have reached me through the +Editor of the <i>London Magazine</i>. One of them refers +me 'to the number of the <i>New Monthly Magazine</i> for +March or April, 1821, for an article on Malthus, in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>which the view' taken by myself 'of his doctrine, as +an answer to Godwin, seems to have been anticipated.' +In reply to this I have only to express my regret that +my present situation, which is at a great distance +from any town, has not yet allowed me an opportunity +for making the reference pointed out.—The other +letter disputes the soundness of my arguments—not +so much in themselves, as in their application to Mr. +Malthus: 'I know not that I am authorised to speak +of the author by name: his arguments I presume +that I am at liberty to publish: they are as follows:—The +first objection appears untenable for this +reason: Mr. Malthus treats of the abstract tendency +to increase in Man, and in the Food of Man, relatively. +Whereas you do not discuss the abstract +tendency to increase, but only the <i>measure</i> of that +increase, which is food. To the second objection I +thus answer: Mr. Godwin contends not (I presume) +for abstract, essential perfection; but for perfection +relating to, and commensurate with, the capabilities +of an earthly nature and habitation. All this Mr. +Malthus admits <i>argumenti gratiâ</i>: and at the same +time asserts that Mr. Godwin's estimate in his own +terms is incompatible with our state. 8th October, +1823.'—To these answers my rejoinder is this:—The +first argument I am not sure that I perfectly understand; +and therefore I will not perplex myself or its +author by discussing it. To the second argument I +reply thus: I am aware that whatsoever Mr. Malthus +admits from Mr. Godwin, he admits only <i>argumenti +gratiâ.</i> But for whatsoever purpose he admits it, he +is bound to remember, that he <i>has</i> admitted it. Now +what is it that he has admitted? A state of perfection.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +This term, under any explanation of it, +betrays him into the following dilemma: Either he +means <i>absolute</i> perfection, perfection which allows of +no degrees; or he means (in the sense which my +friendly antagonist has supposed) <i>relative</i> perfection, +<i>quoad</i> our present state—<i>i. e.</i> a continual approximation +to the ideal of absolute perfection, without +ever reaching it. If he means the first, then he is +exposed to the objection (which I have already insisted +on sufficiently) of bringing the idea of perfection +under an inconsistent and destructory predicate. If +he means the second, then how has he overthrown the +doctrine of human perfectibility as he professes to +have done? At this moment, though the earth is far +from exhausted (and still less its powers), many +countries are, according to Mr. Malthus, suffering all +the evils which they could suffer if population had +reached its maximum: innumerable children are born +which the poverty of their parents (no less fatal to +them than the limitation of the earth) causes to be +thrown back prematurely into the grave. Now this +is the precise <i>kind</i> of evil which Mr. Malthus anticipates +for the human species when it shall have reached +its numerical maximum. But in <i>degree</i> the evil may +then be much less—even upon Mr. Malthus's own +showing: for he does not fix any limit to the increase +of moral restraint, but only denies that it will ever +become absolute and universal. When the principle +of population therefore has done its worst, we may +be suffering the same kind of evil—but, in proportion +to an indefinitely <i>in</i>creasing moral restraint, an indefinitely +<i>de</i>creasing degree of that evil: <i>i. e.</i> we may +continually approximate to the ideal of perfection:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +<i>i. e.</i> if the second sense of perfection be Mr. Godwin's +sense, then Mr. Malthus has not overthrown Mr. +Godwin.</p> + +<p> +X. Y. Z.<br /> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The following admirable letter<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> seems to refer to +the observations on Kant, contained in the Opium +Eater's Letters. Perhaps that acute logician may +be able to discover its meaning: or if not, he may +think it worth preserving as an illustration of Shakspeare's +profound knowledge of character displayed +in Ancient Pistol.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Can Neptune sleep?—Is Willich dead?—Him who +wielded the trident of Albion! Is it thus you trample +on the ashes of my friend? All the dreadful energies +of thought—all the sophistry of fiction and the +triumphs of the human intellect are waving o'er his +peaceful grave. 'He understood not Kant.' Peace +then to the harmless invincible. I have long been +thinking of presenting the world with a Metaphysical +Dictionary—of elucidating Locke's romance.—I await +with impatience Kant in English. Give me that! +Your letter has awakened me to a sense of your +merits. Beware of squabbles; I know the literary +infirmities of man. Scott rammed his nose against +mortals—he grasped at death for fame to chaunt the +victory.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Thine</span>.<br /> +</p> + +<p>How is the Opium Eater?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="154" id="THE_SERVICES_OF_MR_RICARDO"></a>THE SERVICES OF MR. RICARDO</h2> +<p class="center"><b>TO THE</b></p> +<h2>SCIENCE OF POLITICAL ECONOMY,</h2> +<p class="center"><b>BRIEFLY AND PLAINLY STATED.</b><a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></p> + +<p class="center">(<i>March, 1824.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>I do not remember that any public event of our +own times has touched me so nearly, or so much with +the feelings belonging to a private affliction, as the +death of Mr. Ricardo. To me in some sense it <i>was</i> a +private affliction—and no doubt to all others who +knew and honoured his extraordinary talents. For +great intellectual merit, wherever it has been steadily +contemplated, cannot but conciliate some personal +regard: and for my own part I acknowledge that, +abstracting altogether from the use to which a man +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>of splendid endowments may apply them—or even +supposing the case that he should deliberately apply +them to a bad one, I could no more on that account +withhold my good wishes and affection from his +person—than, under any consideration of their terrific +attributes, I could forbear to admire the power and +the beauty of the serpent or the panther. Simply on +its own account, and without further question, a +great intellect challenges, as of right, not merely an +interest of admiration—in common with all other +exhibitions of power and magnificence—but also an +interest of human love, and (where that is necessary) +a spirit of tenderness to its aberrations. Mr. Ricardo +however stood in no need of a partial or indulgent +privilege: his privilege of intellect had a comprehensive +sanction from all the purposes to which he +applied it in the course of his public life: in or out +of parliament, as a senator—or as an author, he was +known and honoured as a public benefactor. Though +connected myself by private friendship with persons +of the political party hostile to his, I heard amongst +them all but one language of respect for his public +conduct. Those, who stood neutral to all parties, +remarked that Mr. Ricardo's voice—though heard too +seldom for the wishes of the enlightened part of the +nation—was never raised with emphasis upon any +question lying out of the province in which he reigned +as the paramount authority, except upon such as +seemed to affect some great interest of liberty or +religious toleration. And, wherever a discussion +arose which transcended the level of temporary and +local politics (as that for example upon corporal +punishments), the weight of authority—which mere +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>blank ability had obtained for him in the House of +Commons—was sure to be thrown into that view of +the case which upheld the dignity of human nature. +Participating most cordially in these feelings of +reverence for Mr. Ricardo's political character, I had +besides a sorrow not unmixed with self-reproach +arising out of some considerations more immediately +relating to myself. In August and September 1821 +I wrote <i>The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater</i>: +and in the course of this little work I took occasion +to express my obligations, as a student of Political +Economy, to Mr. Ricardo's 'Principles' of that science. +For this as for some other passages I was justly<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> +attacked by an able and liberal critic in the <i>New +Edinburgh Review</i>—as for so many absurd irrelevancies: +in that situation no doubt they were so; +and of this, in spite of the haste in which I had +written the greater part of the book, I was fully +aware. However, as they said no more than was +true, I was glad to take that or any occasion which +I could invent for offering my public testimony of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>gratitude to Mr. Ricardo. The truth is—I thought +that something might occur to intercept any more +appropriate mode of conveying my homage to Mr. +Ricardo's ear, which should else more naturally have +been expressed in a direct work on Political Economy. +This fear was at length realised—not in the way I +had apprehended, viz. by my own death—but by Mr. +Ricardo's. And now therefore I felt happy that, at +whatever price of good taste, I had in some imperfect +way made known my sense of his high pretensions—although +unfortunately I had given him no means of +judging whether my applause were of any value. For +during the interval between Sept. 1821 and Mr. +Ricardo's death in Sept. 1823 I had found no leisure +for completing my work on Political Economy: on +that account I had forborne to use the means of +introduction to Mr. Ricardo which I commanded +through my private connections or simply as a man +of letters: and in some measure therefore I owed it +to my own neglect—that I had for ever lost the +opportunity of benefiting by Mr. Ricardo's conversation +or bringing under his review such new speculations +of mine in Political Economy as in any point +modified his own doctrines—whether as corrections of +supposed oversights, as derivations of the same truth +from a higher principle, as further illustrations or +proofs of anything which he might have insufficiently +developed, or simply in the way of supplement to his +known and voluntary omissions. All this I should +have done with the utmost fearlessness of giving +offence, and not for a moment believing that Mr. +Ricardo would have regarded anything in the light +of an undue liberty, which in the remotest degree +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>might seem to affect the interests of a science so +eminently indebted to himself. In reality candour +may be presumed in a man of first-rate understanding—not +merely as a moral quality—but almost as a +part of his intellectual constitution <i>per se</i>; a spacious +and commanding intellect being magnanimous in a +manner <i>suo jure</i>, even though it should have the +misfortune to be allied with a perverse or irritable +temper. On this consideration I would gladly have +submitted to the review of Mr. Ricardo, as indisputably +the first of critics in this department, rather +than to any other person, my own review of himself. +That I have forfeited the opportunity of doing this—is +a source of some self-reproach to myself. I regret +also that I have forfeited the opportunity of perhaps +giving pleasure to Mr. Ricardo by liberating him +from a few misrepresentations, and placing his vindication +upon a firmer basis even than that which he +has chosen. In one respect I enjoy an advantage for +such a service, and in general for the polemic part of +Political Economy, which Mr. Ricardo did not. The +course of my studies has led me to cultivate the +scholastic logic. Mr. Ricardo has obviously neglected +it. Confiding in his own conscious strength, and no +doubt participating in the common error of modern +times as to the value of artificial logic, he has taken +for granted that the Aristotelian forms and the exquisite +science of distinctions matured by the subtilty +of the schoolmen can achieve nothing in substance +which is beyond the power of mere sound good sense +and robust faculties of reasoning; or at most can +only attain the same end with a little more speed and +adroitness. But this is a great error: and it was an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>ill day for the human understanding when Lord +Bacon gave his countenance to a notion, which his +own exclusive study of one department in philosophy +could alone have suggested. Distinctions previously +examined—probed—and accurately bounded, together +with a terminology previously established, are the +crutches on which all minds—the weakest and the +strongest—must alike depend in many cases of +perplexity: from pure neglect of such aids, which are +to the unassisted understanding what weapons are to +the unarmed human strength or tools and machinery +to the naked hand of art, do many branches of knowledge +at this day languish amongst those which are +independent of experiment.</p> + +<p>As the best consolation to myself for the lost +opportunities with which I have here reproached +myself,—and as the best means of doing honour to +the memory of Mr. Ricardo,—I shall now endeavour +to spread the knowledge of what he has performed in +Political Economy. To do this in the plainest and +most effectual manner, I shall abstain from introducing +any opinions peculiar to myself, excepting +only when they may be necessary for the defence of +Mr. Ricardo against objections which have obtained +currency from the celebrity of their authors—or in +the few cases where they may be called for by the +errors (as I suppose them to be) even of Mr. Ricardo.—In +using this language, I do not fear to be taxed +with arrogance: we of this day stand upon the +shoulders of our predecessors; and that I am able to +detect any errors in Mr. Ricardo—I owe, in most +instances, to Mr. Ricardo himself.</p> + +<p> +X. Y. Z.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="160" id="EDUCATION"></a>EDUCATION.</h2> + +<h3>PLANS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF BOYS IN LARGE NUMBERS.<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>April and May, 1824.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>This is the work of a very ingenious man, and +records the most original experiment in Education +which in this country at least has been attempted +since the date of those communicated by the Edgeworths. +We say designedly 'in this country;' because +to compare it with some continental schemes +which have been only recently made known to the +English public (and not fully made known even yet) +would impose upon us a minute review of those +schemes, which would be, <i>first</i>, disproportionate to +our limits—<i>secondly</i>, out of its best situation, because +it would be desirable to examine those schemes +separately for the direct purpose of determining their +own absolute value, and not indirectly and incidentally +for the purpose of a comparison. The Madras system, +again, is excluded from the comparison—not so much +for the reason alleged (pp. 123-5), by the author +before us—as though that system were <i>essentially</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +different from his own in its purpose and application: +the <i>purpose</i> of the Madras system is not exclusively +economy of expense, but in combination with that +purpose a far greater accuracy (and therefore reality) +in the knowledge communicated than could be obtained +on the old systems; on this account therefore +the possible <i>application</i> of the Madras system is not +simply to the education of the poor, though as yet +the actual application of it may have been chiefly to +them, but also to the education of the rich; and in +fact it is well known that the Madras system (so far +from being <i>essentially</i> a system for the poor) has been +adopted in some of the great classical schools of the +kingdom.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> The difference is more logically stated +thus—that the Madras system regards singly the +quality of the knowledge given, and (with a view to +<i>that</i>) the mode of giving it: whereas the system, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>which we are going to review, does not confine its +view to <i>man as a being capable of knowledge</i>, but +extends it to <i>man as a being capable of action, moral or +prudential</i>: it is therefore a much more comprehensive +system. The system before us does not exclude the +final purpose of the Madras system: on the contrary, +it is laudably solicitous for the fullest and most +accurate communication of knowledge, and suggests +many hints for the attainment of that end as just and +as useful as they are enlightened. But it does not +stop here: it goes further, and contemplates the +whole man with a reference to his total means of usefulness +and happiness in life. And hence, by the way, +it seems to us essential—that the whole child should +on this system be surrendered to the school; <i>i. e.</i> that +there should be no day-scholars; and this principle +we shall further on endeavour to establish on the +evidence of a case related by the author himself.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> On +the whole therefore we have designedly stated our +general estimate of the author's system with a reference +to that of the Edgeworths; not only because it +has the same comprehensiveness of object, and is in +some degree a further expansion of their method and +their principles; but also because the author himself +strikingly resembles the Edgeworths in style and +composition of mind; with this single difference perhaps, +that the good sense and perception of propriety +(of what in French would be called <i>les convenances</i>), +which in both is the characteristic merit (and, when it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>comes into conflict with any higher quality, the characteristic +defect),—in him is less coloured by sarcastic +and contemptuous feelings; which in all cases are unamiable +feelings, and argue some defect of wisdom +and magnanimity; but, when directed (as in the Edgeworths +they sometimes are) against principles in +human nature which lie far beyond the field of their +limited philosophy, recoil with their whole strength +upon those who utter them. It is upon this consideration +of his intellectual affinity with the Edgeworths +that we are the less disposed to marvel at his estimate +of their labours: that, for instance, at p. 192 he styles +their work on education 'inestimable,' and that at +p. 122, though he stops short of proposing 'divine +honours' to Miss Edgeworth, the course of his logic +nevertheless binds him to mean that on Grecian +principles such honours are 'due to her.' So much +for the general classification and merits of the author, +of whom we know nothing more than—that, from his +use of the Scotticisms—'succumb,'—'compete,'—and +'in place of' for 'instead of' he ought to be a Scotchman: +now then for his system.</p> + +<p>Of this we may judge by two criteria—experimentally +by its result, or <i>à priori</i> by its internal aptitude +for attaining its ends. Now as to the result, it must +be remembered that—even if the author of any system +could be relied on as an impartial witness to its +result—yet, because the result of a system of education +cannot express itself in any one insulated fact, it +will demand as much judgment to abstract from any +limited experience what really <i>is</i> the result as would +have sufficed to determine its merits <i>à priori</i> without +waiting for any result. Consequently, as it would be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>impossible to exonerate ourselves from the necessity +of an elaborate act of judgment by any appeal to the +practical test of the result—seeing that this result +would again require an act of judgment hardly less +elaborate for its satisfactory settlement than the <i>à +priori</i> examination which it had been meant to +supersede,—we may as well do that at first which we +must do in the end; and, relying upon our own understandings, +say boldly that the system is good or +bad because on this argument it is evidently calculated +to do good or on that argument to do evil, +than blindly pronounce—it is good or it is bad, because +it has produced—or has failed of producing—such +and such effects; even if those effects were easy +to collect. In fact, for any conclusive purpose of a +practical test, the experience is only now beginning +to accumulate: and here we may take occasion to +mention that we had ourselves been misinformed as +to the duration of the experiment; for a period of +four years, we were told, a school had existed under +the system here developed: but this must be a +mistake, founded perhaps on a footnote at p. 83 which +says—'The plan has now been in operation more +than four years:' but the plan there spoken of is not +the general system, but a single feature of it—viz. the +abolition of corporal punishment: in the text this +plan had been represented as an immature experiment, +having then 'had a trial of nine months' only: +and therefore, as more than three years nine months +had elapsed from that time to the publication of the +book, a note is properly added declaring that the experiment +had succeeded, and that the author could +'not imagine any motive strong enough to force him +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>back to the old practice.' The system generally however +must have existed now (<i>i. e.</i> November 1823) for +nearly eight years at the least: so much is evident +from a note at p. 79, where a main regulation of the +system is said to have been established 'early in 1816.' +Now a period of seven or eight years must have been +sufficient to carry many of the senior pupils into active +life, and to carry many of the juniors even into situations +where they would be brought into close comparison +with the pupils of other systems. Consequently, +so much experience as is involved in the fact +of the systems outliving such a comparison—and in +the continued approbation of its founder, who is +manifestly a very able and a conscientious man,—so +much experience, we say, may be premised for the +satisfaction of those who demand practical tests. For +ourselves, we shall abide rather in our valuation of +the system by the internal evidence of its composition +as stated and interpreted by its author. An abstract +of all that is essential in this statement we shall now +lay before our readers.</p> + +<p>What is the characteristic difference, in the fewest +possible words, of this system as opposed to all +others? We nowhere find this stated in a pointed +manner: the author has left it rather to be collected +from his general exposition; and therefore we conceive +that we shall be entitled to his thanks by placing it +in a logical, if possible in an antithetic, shape. In +order to this, we ask—what is a school? A school is +a body of young persons more or less perfectly organised—which, +by means of a certain constitution or +system of arrangements (A), aims at attaining a +certain object (B). Now in all former schemes of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>education this A stood to B the positive quantity +sought in the relation of a logical negative (<i>i. e.</i> of a +<i>negation</i> of quantity = <i>0</i>), or even of a mathematic +negative (<i>i. e.</i> of-<i>x</i>):—but on this new system of the +author before us (whom, for the want of a better +name, we shall call the Experimentalist) A for the +first time bears to B the relation of a positive quantity. +The terms <i>positive</i> and <i>negative</i> are sufficiently opposed +to each other to confer upon our contradistinction of +this system from all others a very marked and antithetic +shape; and the only question upon it, which +arises, is this—are these terms justified in their +application to this case? That they are, will appear +thus:—Amongst the positive objects (or B) of every +school, even the very worst, we must suppose the +culture of morals to be one: a mere day-school may +perhaps reasonably confine its pretensions to the disallowance +of anything positively bad; because here +the presumption is that the parents undertake the +management of their children excepting in what +regards their intellectual education: but, wherever +the heads of a school step into the full duties of a +child's natural guardians, they cannot absolve themselves +from a responsibility for his morals. Accordingly, +this must be assumed of course to exist amongst +the positive objects of every boarding-school. Yet so +far are the laws and arrangements of existing schools +from at all aiding and promoting this object, that +their very utmost pretension is—that they do not +injure it. Much injustice and oppression, for example, +take place in the intercourse of all boys with each +other; and in most schools 'the stern edict against +<i>bearing tales</i>,' causes this to go unredressed (p. 78): on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>the other hand, in a school where a system of nursery-like +<i>surveillance</i> was adopted, and 'every trifling +injury was the subject of immediate appeal to the +supreme power' (p. 80), the case was still worse. +'The indulgence of this querulousness increased it +beyond all endurance. Before the master had time +to examine the justice of one complaint, his attention +was called away to redress another; until, wearied +with investigation into offences which were either too +trifling or too justly provoked for punishment, he +treated all complainants with harshness, heard their +accusations with incredulity, and thus tended, by a +first example, to the re-establishment of the old +system.' The issue in any case was—that, apart from +what nature and the education of real life did for the +child's morals, the school education did nothing at all +except by the positive moral instruction which the +child might draw from his lessons—<i>i. e.</i> from B. But +as to A, <i>i. e.</i> the school arrangements, either at best +their effect was = 0; or possibly, by capricious interference +for the regulation of what was beyond their +power to regulate, they actually disturbed the moral +sense (<i>i. e.</i> their effect was =-<i>x</i>). Now, on the +new system of our Experimentalist, the very laws and +regulations, which are in any case necessary to the +going on of a school, have such an origin and are so +administered as to cultivate the sense of justice and +materially to enlarge the knowledge of justice. These +laws emanate from the boys themselves, and are administered +by the boys. That is to say, A (which on +the old system is at best a mere blank, or negation, +and sometimes even an absolute negative with regard +to B) thus becomes a positive agent in relation to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +B—<i>i. e.</i> to one of the main purposes of the school. +Again, to descend to an illustration of a lower order, +in most schools arithmetic is one part of B: now on +the new system it is so contrived that what is technically +termed <i>calling over</i>, which on any system is a +necessary arrangement for the prevention of mischief, +and which usually terminates there (<i>i. e.</i> in an effect += 0), becomes a positive means of cultivating an +elementary rule of arithmetic in the junior students—and +an attention to accuracy in all: <i>i. e.</i> here again, +from being simply = 0, A becomes = + <i>x</i> in relation +to B. A school in short, on this system, burns its +own smoke: The mere negative conditions of its daily +goings on, the mere waste products of its machinery, +being converted into the positive pabulum of its life +and motion. Such then, we affirm, is the brief +abstract—antithetically expressed—of the characteristic +principle by which the system under review is +distinguished from all former systems. In relation to +B (which suppose 20 <i>x</i>) A, which heretofore was =-<i>x</i>, +or at best = 0, now becomes = + <i>x</i>, or + 2 <i>x</i>, or 3 <i>x</i>, +as it may happen. In this lies the merit of the conception: +what remains to be inquired—is in what +degree, and upon what parts of B, it attains this conversion +of A into a positive quantity: and this will +determine the merit of the execution. Let us now +therefore turn to the details of the book.</p> + +<p>The book may be properly distributed into two +parts: the first of which from page 1 to page 125 inclusively +(comprehending the three first chapters) +unfolds and reviews the system: all that remains from +page 126 to page 218 inclusively (<i>i. e.</i> to the end)— +comprehending four chapters—may be considered as a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>second or miscellaneous part, treating of some general +topics in the business of education, but with a continual +reference to the principles laid down in the +first part. An appendix, of twenty pages, contains a +body of illustrative documents. The first of the three +chapters, composing what we have called the first +part, is entitled <i>Outline of the System</i>: and, as it is +very brief, we shall extract it nearly entire.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'A schoolmaster being a governor as well as a +teacher, we must consider the boys both as a community +and as a body of pupils. The principle of our +government is to leave, as much as possible, all power +in the hands of the boys themselves: To this end we +permit them to elect a committee, which enacts the +laws of the school, subject however to the <i>veto</i> of the +head master. We have also courts of justice for the +trial of both civil and criminal causes, and a vigorous +police for the preservation of order. Our rewards +consist of a few prizes given at the end of each half +year to those whose exertions have obtained for them +the highest rank in the school; and certain marks +which are gained from time to time by exertions of +talent and industry. These marks are of two kinds: +the most valuable, called premial<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> marks, will purchase +a holiday; the others are received in liquidation +of forfeits. Our punishments<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> are fine and imprisonment. +Impositions, public disgrace, and corporeal +pain, have been for some years discarded among us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +To obtain rank is an object of great ambition among +the boys; with us it is entirely dependent on the +state of their acquirements; and our arrangements +according to excellence are so frequent—that no one +is safe, without constant exertion, from losing his +place. The boys learn almost every branch of study in +classes, that the master may have time for copious explanations; +it being an object of great anxiety with +us, that the pupil should be led to reason upon all +his operations. Economy of time is a matter of +importance with us: we look upon all restraint as an +evil, and to young persons as a very serious evil: we +are therefore constantly in search of means for ensuring +the effective employment of every minute +which is spent in the school-room, that the boys may +have ample time for exercise in the open air. The +middle state between work and play is extremely unfavourable +to the habits<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> of the pupil: we have +succeeded, by great attention to order and regularity, +in reducing it almost to nothing. We avoid much +confusion by accustoming the boys to march; which +they do with great precision, headed by a band of +young performers<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> from their own body.'</p></div> + +<p>Such is the outline of the system as sketched by +the author himself: to us however it appears an +insufficient outline even for 'the general reader' to +whom it is addressed: without having 'any intention +of reducing the system to practice,' the most general +reader, if he asks for any information at all, will ask +for more than this. We shall endeavour therefore to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>draw up an account of the plan somewhat less meagre, +by separating the important from the trivial details. +For this purpose we shall begin—1. with the <span class="smcap">GOVERNMENT</span> +of the school; <i>i. e.</i> with an account of the +<i>legislative</i>, the <i>executive</i>, and the <i>judicial</i> powers, +where lodged—held by what tenure—and how administered. +The <i>legislative power</i> is vested in a committee +of boys elected by the boys themselves. The +members are elected monthly; the boy, who ranks +highest in the school, electing one member; the <i>two</i> +next in rank another; the <i>three</i> next a third; and so +on. The head-master as well as all the under-masters +are members by virtue of their office. This arrangement +might seem likely to throw a dangerous weight +in the deliberations of the 'house' into the hands of +the executive power, especially as the head-master +might pursue Queen Anne's policy under the Tory +ministers—and, by introducing the fencing-master—the +dancing-master—the riding-master, &c. under the +unconstitutional equivocation of the word '<i>teachers</i>,' +carry a favourite measure in the teeth of the patriotic +party. Hitherto however the reigning sovereign has +shown so laudable a desire to strengthen those checks +upon his own authority which make him a limited +monarch—that 'only one teacher has been in the +habit of attending the committee's meetings' (p. 5): +and, where any teacher himself happens to be interested +in the question before the house (<i>e. g.</i> in a case +of appeal from any decision of his), 'it has lately been +the etiquette' for that one who does attend to decline +voting. Thus we see that the liberty of the subject is +on the growth: which is a sure argument that it has +not been abused. In fact, as a fresh proof of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>eternal truth—that in proportion as human beings +are honourably confided in, they will <i>in the gross</i> become +worthy of confidence, it will give pleasure to the +reader to be informed that, though this committee +'has the formation of <i>all</i> the laws and regulations of +the school (excepting such as determine the hours of +attendance and the regular amount of exercises to be +performed),' yet 'the master's assent has never even +in a single instance been withheld or even delayed.' +'I do not remember,' says Sir William Temple in 1683 +to his son, 'ever to have refused anything you have +desired of me; which I take to be a greater compliment +to you than to myself; since for a young man +to make none but reasonable desires is yet more extraordinary +than for an old man to think them so.' +A good arrangement has been adopted for the purpose +of combining the benefits of mature deliberation with +the vigour and dispatch necessary for sudden emergencies: +by a standing order of the committee a week's +notice must be given before a new law can be introduced +for discussion: in cases of urgency therefore a +sort of <i>orders of council</i> are passed by a sub-committee +composed of two principal officers for the time being: +these may of course be intercepted <i>in limine</i> by the +<i>veto</i> of the master; and they may be annulled by the +general committee: in any case they expire in a +fortnight: and thus not only is a present necessity +met, but also an opportunity gained for trying the +effect of a law before it is formally proposed. The +<i>executive</i> body, exclusively of its standing members +the upper and lower masters, is composed of a sheriff +(whose duties are to levy fines imposed by the court +of justice, and to imprison on non-payment)—of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>magistrate, and of two constables. All these officers +are elected every month by the committee immediately +after its own election. The magistrate is bound, in +conjunction with his constables, to detect all offences +committed in the school: petty cases of dispute he +decides himself, and so far becomes a <i>judicial</i> officer: +cases beyond his own jurisdiction he sends to the +attorney-general, directing him to draw an impeachment +against the offending party: he also enforces all +penalties below a certain amount. Of the <i>judicial</i> +body we shall speak a little more at length. The +principal officers of the court are the judge who is +elected monthly by the committee, and the attorney-general +who is appointed at the same time by the +master. The court assembles every week: and the +jury, consisting of six, is 'chosen by lot from among +the whole number of qualified boys:' disqualifications +arise in three ways; on account of holding a judicial +office, on account of conviction by the court within +the preceding month, and on account of youth (or, +what we presume to be tantamount, being 'in certain +lower classes'). The jury choose their own foreman. +The attorney-general and the accused party, if the +case be penal, and each disputant, if civil, has a +<i>peremptory</i> challenge of three, and an unlimited right +of challenge <i>for cause</i>. The judge decides upon the +validity of the objections. Such is the constitution +of the court: its forms of proceeding we cannot state +in fewer words than those of the Experimentalist, +which we shall therefore quote: 'The officers of the +court and the jury having taken their seats, the +defendant (when the cause is penal) is called to the +bar by the crier of the court, and placed between the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>constables. The clerk of the court then reads the +indictment, at the close of which the defendant is +asked if he object to any of the jury—when he may +make his challenges (as before stated). The same +question is put to the attorney-general. A short +time is then allowed the defendant to plead <i>guilty</i>, if +he be so disposed: he is asked no question however +that he may not be induced to tell a falsehood: but, +in order to encourage an acknowledgment of the fault, +when he pleads <i>guilty</i>—a small deduction is made +from the penalty appointed by the law for the +offence. The consequence is—that at least five out +of six of those who are justly accused acknowledge +the offence in the first instance. If the defendant be +determined to stand his trial, the attorney-general +opens the case and the trial proceeds. The defendant +may either plead his own cause, or employ a school-fellow +as counsel—which he sometimes does. The +judge takes notes of the evidence, to assist him in +delivering his charge to the jury: in determining the +sentence he is guided by the regulations enacted by +the committee, which affix punishments varying with +the magnitude of the offence and the age of the +defendant, but invest the judge with the power of +increasing or diminishing the penalty to the extent of +one-fourth.' A copy of the sentence is laid before the +master, who has of course 'the power of mitigation or +pardon.' From the decision of the court there lies +an appeal to the committee, which is thus not only +the legislative body, but also the supreme court of +judicature. Two such appeals however are all that +have yet occurred: both were brought by the attorney-general—of +course therefore against verdicts of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>acquittal; and both verdicts were reversed. Fresh +evidence however was in both cases laid before the +committee in addition to that which had been heard +in the court below; and on this as well on other +grounds there was good reason to acquit the jury of +all partiality. Whilst appeals have thus been so rare +from the verdicts of juries, appeals from the decisions +of the magistrate, and even from those of the teachers, +have been frequent: generally indeed the decisions +have been affirmed by the committee; and, when +they have been reversed, in all but two cases the reversal +has met with the sanction of the teachers as +a body. Even in these two (where, by the way, the +original decision was only modified and not annulled); +the Experimentalist is himself of opinion (p. 12) that +the non-concurrence of the teachers may possibly have +been owing to a partiality on their side. So far indeed +as his experience had then extended, the Experimentalist +tells us (p. 79) that 'one solitary instance +only' had occurred in which the verdict of the jury +did not coincide with his own opinion. This judgment, +deliberately pronounced by so competent a judge, +combined with the entire acquiescence in the verdict +of the jury which is argued by the non-existence of +any appeals except on the side of the crown (and then +only in two instances), is a very striking attestation +to the spirit of conscientious justice developed in the +students by this confidence in their incorruptible +integrity. 'Great,' says the Experimentalist, 'great, +but of course unexpressed, anxiety has more than +once been felt by us—lest the influence of a leading +boy, which in every school must be considerable, +should overcome the virtue of the jury: but our fears +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>have been uniformly relieved, and the hopes of the +offender crushed, by the voice of the foreman pronouncing, +in a shrill but steady tone, the awful word—Guilty!' +Some persons, who hate all innovations, +will pronounce all this '<i>mummery</i>,' which is a very +compendious piece of criticism. For ourselves, though +we cannot altogether agree with the Experimentalist, +who seems to build too much on an assumption that +nature and increasing intercourse with human life +contribute nothing of themselves without any artificial +discipline to the evolution and culture of the +sense of justice and to the power of the understanding +for discovering where justice lies, yet thus much +is evident, 1. That the intellectual faculties must be +sharpened by the constant habit of discriminating +the just and the unjust in concrete cases such as a +real experience of life produces; 2. That the moral +sense must be deepened, if it were only by looking +back upon so large a body of decisions, and thus +measuring as it were, by the resistance which they +had often overcome arising out of their own immediate +interest, the mightiness of the conscientious power +within which had compelled them to such decisions; +3. That all sorts of forensic ability is thus cherished; +and much ability indeed of larger application: thus +the logical faculty of abstracting the essential from +the accidental is involved in the summing up of the +judge; in the pleadings for and against are involved +the rhetorical arts of narrating facts perspicuously—of +arranging arguments in the best order of meeting +(therefore of remembering) the counter-arguments; +of solving sophisms; of disentangling misrepresentations—of +weighing the value of probabilities—to say +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>nothing of elocution and the arts of style and diction +which even the records of the court and the committee +(as is urged at p. 105) must tend to cultivate: 4. (to +descend to a humbler use) that in this way the master +is absolved from the grievous waste of time in administering +justice, which on the old system was +always imperfect justice that it might waste but +little time, and which yet wasted much time though +it was imperfect justice. The author's own <i>moral</i> of +this innovation is as follows (p. 76); and with this +we shall leave the subject: 'We shall be disappointed +if the intelligent reader have not already discovered +that by the establishment of a system of legislation +and jurisprudence wherein the power of the master is +bounded by general rules, and the duties of the +scholar accurately defined, and where the boys are +called upon to examine and decide upon the conduct +of their fellows, we have provided a course of instruction +in the great code of morality which is likely to +produce far more powerful and lasting effects than +any quantity of mere precept.'</p> + +<p>We now pass to the other characteristics of the new +system, which seem to lie chiefly in what relates to +<i>economy of time</i>, <i>rewards and punishments</i>, the <i>motives +to exertion</i>, and <i>voluntary labour</i>. For, as to the +<i>musical performances</i> (which occur more than twenty +times a day), we see no practical use in them except +that they regulate the marching; and the marching +it is said teaches to measure time: and measuring +time accurately contributes 'to the order and celerity +with which the various evolutions of the school +are performed,' and also the conquest of 'serious +impediments of speech.' But the latter case not +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>occurring (we presume) very frequently, and marching +accurately not being wholly dependant on music,—it +appears to us that a practice, which tends to throw an +air of fanciful trifling over the excellent good sense of +the system in other respects, would be better omitted. +<i>Division into classes</i> again, though insisted on by the +Experimentalist (see pp. 290, 291) in a way which +would lead us to suppose it a novelty in his own +neighbourhood, is next to universal in England; and +in all the great grammar schools has been established +for ages. All that distinguishes this arrangement in +his use of it—is this, that the classes are variable: +that is, the school forms by different combinations +according to the subject of study; the boys, who +study Greek together, are not the same who study +arithmetic together. Dismissing therefore these two +arrangements as either not characteristic or not +laudably characteristic, we shall make a brief exposition +of the others. 1. <i>Economy of Time</i>:—'We +have been startled at the reflection' (says the Experimentalist)—'that +if, by a faulty arrangement, one +minute be lost to sixty of our boys, the injury sustained +would be equal to the waste of an hour by a +single individual.' Hence, as the Experimentalist +justly argues, the use of classes; by means of which +ten minutes spent by the tutor in explaining a +difficult point to a class of ten boys become equal to +100 minutes distributed amongst them severally. +Great improvement in the economising of time was on +this system derived from exacting 'an almost superstitious +punctuality' of the <i>monitor</i>, whose duty it is +to summon the school to all its changes of employment +by ringing a bell. It is worthy of notice, but to us +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>not at all surprising, that—'when the duty of the +monitor was easy, and he had time for play, the +exact moment for ringing the bell was but seldom +observed: but when, as the system grew more +complex, he was more constantly in requisition, it +was found that with increased labour came increased +perfection: and the same boy who had complained of +the difficulty of being punctual when he had to ring +the bell only ten times in the day, found his duty +comparatively easy when his memory was taxed to a +four-fold amount. It is amusing to see what a living +timepiece the giddiest boy will become during his week +of office. The succession of monitors gradually infuses +a habit, and somewhat of a love of punctuality, into +the body scholastic itself. The masters also cannot +think of being absent when the scholars are waiting +for them: and thus the nominal and the real hours of +attendance become exactly the same.'—2. <i>Motives to +Exertion.</i> 'After furnishing the pupil with the +<i>opportunity</i> of spending his time to the greatest +advantage, our next case was to examine how we had +supplied him with <i>motives</i>' for so spending it (p. 92). +These are ranged under five heads,—'Love of knowledge—love +of employment—emulation—hope of reward—and +fear of punishment,'—and according to +what the Experimentalist rightly thinks 'their order +of excellence.' The three last, he alleges, are stimuli; +and of necessity lose their power by constant use. +Love of employment, though a more durable motive, +leaves the pupil open to the attractions of any other +employment that may chance to offer itself in competition +with knowledge. Love of knowledge for its +own sake therefore is the mainspring relied on; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>insomuch that the Experimentalist gives it as his +opinion (p. 96) that 'if it were possible for the pupil +to acquire a love of knowledge, and that only during +the time he remained at school, he would have done +more towards insuring a stock of knowledge in +maturer age than if he had been the recipient of as +much learning as ever was infused into the passive +school-boy' by any means which fell short of generating +such a principle of exertion. We heartily agree +with him: and we are further of opinion that this +love needs not to be generated as an independent +birth previously to our commencing the labour of +tuition, but that every system of tuition in proportion +as it approaches to a good one will inevitably +involve the generation of this love of knowledge +concurrently with the generation of knowledge itself. +Most melancholy are the cases which have come +under our immediate notice of good faculties wholly +lost to their possessor and an incurable disgust +for literature and knowledge founded to our certain +knowledge solely on the stupidity and false methods +of the teacher, who alike in what he knew or did +<i>not</i> know was incapable of connecting one spark of +pleasurable feeling with any science, by leading his +pupils' minds to re-act upon the knowledge he attempted +to convey. Being thus important, how shall +a love of knowledge be created? According to the +Experimentalist, first of all (p. 97—to the word 'zest' +in p. 107) by combining the sense of obvious <i>utility</i> +with all the elementary exercises of the intellect:—secondly +(from p. 108—to the word 'rock' in p. 114) +by matching the difficulties of the learner exactly +with his capacity:—thirdly (from p. 114—to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>word 'attention' in p. 117) by connecting with the +learner's progress the sense of continual success:—fourthly +(from p. 117—to the word 'co-operation' in +p. 121) by communicating clear, vivid and accurate +conceptions. The first means is illustrated by a +reference to the art of learning a language—to arithmetic—to +surveying, and to the writing of 'themes.' +Can any boy, for instance, reconcile himself to the +loathsome effort of learning '<i>Propria quæ maribus</i>' +by any [but] the dimmest sense of its future utility? No, +we answer with the Experimentalist: and we go +farther even than the Experimentalist is disposed to +do (p. 98); for we deny the existence of any future +utility. We, the reviewer of this book, at eight +years of age, though even then passionately fond of +study and disdainful of childish sports, passed some +of the most wretched and ungenial days of our life in +'learning by <i>heart</i>,' as it is called (oh! most ironical +misnomer!), <i>Propria quæ maribus</i>, '<i>Quæ genus</i>,' and +'<i>As in præsenti</i>,' a three-headed monster worse than +Cerberus: we <i>did</i> learn them <i>ad unguem</i>; and to this +hour their accursed barbarisms cling to our memory +as ineradicably as the golden lines of Æschylus or +Shakspeare. And what was our profit from all this +loathsome labour, and the loathsome heap of rubbish +thus deposited in the memory? Attend, if you +please, good reader: the first professes to teach the +irregularities of nouns as to gender (<i>i. e.</i> which nouns +having a masculine termination are yet feminine, &c.), +the second to teach the irregularities of nouns as to +number (<i>i. e.</i> which want the singular, which the +plural), the third to teach the irregularities of verbs +(<i>i. e.</i> their deviations from the generic forms of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>preterite and the supine): this is what they <i>profess</i> +to teach. Suppose then their professions realised, +what is the result? Why that you have laboriously +anticipated a case of anomaly which, if it do actually +occur, could not possibly cost more trouble to explain +at the time of its occurrence than you are thus premising. +This is as if a man should sit down to cull +all the difficult cases of action which could ever occur +to him in his relations of son, father, citizen, neighbour, +public functionary, &c. under the plea that he +would thus have got over the labour of discussion +before the case itself arrived. Supposing that this +could be accomplished, what would it effect but to +cancel a benevolent arrangement of providence by +which the difficulties of life are distributed with +tolerable equality throughout its whole course, and +obstinately to accumulate them all upon a particular +period. Sufficient for the day is its own evil: dispatch +your business as it arises, and every day clears +itself: but suffer a few months of unaudited accounts, +or of unanswered letters, to accumulate; and a +mountain of arrears is before you which years seem +insufficient to get rid of. This sort of accumulation +arises in the shape of <i>arrears</i>: but any accumulation +of trouble out of its proper place,—<i>i. e.</i> of a distributed +trouble into a state of convergement,—no matter +whether in the shape of needless anticipation or needless +procrastination, has equally the practical effect of +converting a light trouble (or none at all) into a heavy +and hateful one. The daily experience of books, +actual intercourse with Latin authors, is sufficient to +teach all the irregularities of that language: just as +the daily experience of an English child leads him +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>without trouble into all the anomalies of his own +language. And, to return to the question which we +put—'What was our profit from all this loathsome +labour?' In this way it was, viz. in the way of +actual experience that we, the reviewer of this book, +did actually in the end come to the knowledge of +those irregularities which the three elegant poems in +question profess to communicate. Mark this, reader: +the logic of what we are saying—is first, that, if they +<i>did</i> teach what they profess, they would attain that +end by an artificial means far more laborious than +the natural means: and secondly, that in fact they do +<i>not</i> attain their end. The reason of this—is partly +the perplexed and barbarous texture of the verse, +which for metrical purposes, <i>i. e.</i> to keep the promise +of metre to the mere technical scansion, is obliged to +abandon all those natural beauties of metre in the +fluent connection of the words, in the rhythmus, +cadence, cæsura, &c. which alone recommend metre as +a better or more rememberable form for conveying +knowledge than prose: prose, if it has no music, at +any rate does not compel the most inartificial writer +to dislocate, and distort it into non-intelligibility. +Another reason is, that '<i>As in præsenti</i>' and its +companions, are not so much adapted to the reading +as to the writing of Latin. For instance, I remember +(we will suppose) this sequence of '<i>tango tetigi</i>' from +the '<i>As in P</i>.' Now, if I am <i>reading</i> Latin I meet +either with the tense '<i>tango</i>,' or the tense '<i>tetigi</i>.' In +the former case, I have no difficulty; for there is as +yet no irregularity: and therefore it is impertinent +to offer assistance: in the latter case I <i>do</i> find a +difficulty, for, according to the models of verbs which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +I have learned in my grammar, there is no possible +verb which could yield <i>tetigi</i>: for such a verb as +<i>tetigo</i> even ought to yield <i>tetixi</i>: here therefore I +should be glad of some assistance; but just here it is +that I obtain none: for, because I remember '<i>tango +tetigi</i>' in the direct order, it is quite contrary to the +laws of association which govern the memory in such +a case, to suppose that I remember the inverted order +of <i>tetigi tango</i>—any more than the forward repetition +of the Lord's prayer ensures its backward repetition. +The practical applicability of '<i>As in præsenti</i>' is +therefore solely to the act of <i>writing</i> Latin: for, +having occasion to translate the words 'I touched' I +search for the Latin equivalent to the English word +<i>touch</i>—find that it is <i>tango</i>, and then am reminded +(whilst forming the preterite) that <i>tango</i> makes not +<i>tanxi</i> but '<i>tetigi</i>.' Such a use therefore I might by +possibility derive from my long labours: meantime +even here the service is in all probability doubly +superfluous: for, by the time that I am called on to +write Latin at all, experience will have taught me that +<i>tango</i> makes <i>tetigi</i>; or, supposing that I am required +to write Latin as one of the earliest means for gaining +experience, even in that case the very same dictionary +which teaches me what is Latin for '<i>touch</i>' teaches +me what is the irregular preterite and supine of <i>tango</i>. +And thus the 'upshot' (to use a homely word) of the +whole business—is that an effort of memory, so great +as to be capable otherwise directed of mastering a +science, and secondly (because directed to an unnatural +composition, viz. an arrangement of metre, which is +at once the rudest and the most elaborately artificial), +so disgusting as that no accession of knowledge could +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>compensate the injury thus done to the simplicity of +the child's understanding, by connecting pain and a +sense of unintelligible mystery with his earliest steps +in knowledge,—all this hyperbolical apparatus and +machinery is worked for no one end or purpose that +is not better answered by a question to his tutor, by +consulting his dictionary, or by the <i>insensible</i> progress +of daily experience. Even this argument derived from +its utter uselessness does not however weigh so much +with us as the other argument derived from the want +of common-sense, involved in the wilful forestalling +and artificial concentrating into one long rosary of +anomalies, what else the nature of the case has by +good luck dispersed over the whole territory of the +Latin language. To be consistent, a tutor should +take the same proleptical course with regard to the +prosody of the Latin language: every Latin hyperdissyllable +is manifestly accentuated according to the +following law: if the penultimate be long, that +syllable inevitably claims the accent; if short, inevitably +it rejects it—<i>i. e.</i> gives it to the ante-penultimate. +The determining syllable is therefore the penultimate; +and for the due reading of Latin the sole +question is about the quantity of the penultimate. +According to the logic therefore which could ever +have introduced '<i>As in præsenti</i>,' the tutor ought to +make his pupils commit to memory every individual +word in which the quantity was not predetermined +by a mechanical rule—(as it is <i>e. g.</i> in the gen. plural +<i>[=o]rum</i>, of the second declension, the <i>[=e]runt</i> of the third +per. plurals of the preterite, &c., or the cases where +the vowel is long by position). But what man of +sense would forbear to cry out in such a case—'Leave +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>the poor child to his daily reading: practice, under +correct tuition, will give him insensibly and without +effort all that you would thus endeavour to communicate +through a most Herculean exertion.' Whom has +it cost any trouble to learn the accentuation of his +own language? How has he learned <i>that</i>? Simply +by copying others—and so much without effort, that +the effort (and a very great effort) would have been +<i>not</i> to copy them. In that way let him learn the +quantity of Latin and Greek penultimates. That +Edmund Burke could violate the quantity of the word +'Vectigal' was owing to his tutor's ignorance, who +had allowed him so to read it; that Lord North, and +every other Etonian in the house, knew better—was +owing not to any disproportionate effort of memory +directed to that particular word, as though they had +committed to memory a rule enjoining them to place +the accent on the penultimate of the word vectigal: +their knowledge no more rested on such an anticipation +by express rules of their own experience, than +Burke's ignorance of the quantity on the want of such +anticipation; the anticipation was needless—coming +from a tutor who knew the quantity, and impossible—coming +from a tutor who knew it not. At this +moment a little boy (three years old) is standing by +our table, and repeatedly using the word <i>mans</i> for <i>men</i>: +his sister (five years old), at his age, made the very +same mistake: but she is now correcting her brother's +grammar, which just at this moment he is stoutly +defending—conceiving his dignity involved in the +assertion of his own impeccability. Now whence +came the little girl's error and its correction? Following +blindly the general analogy of the language, she +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>formed her plural by adding an <i>s</i> to the singular: +afterwards everybody about her became a daily +monitor—a living <i>Propria quæ maribus</i>, as she is +in her turn to her brother, instructing her that this +particular word '<i>man</i>' swerved, as to this one particular +point, from the general analogy of the +language. But the result is just as inevitable from +daily intercourse with Latin books, as to the parallel +anomalies in that language. In proportion as any +case of anomaly could escape the practical regulation +of such an intercourse, just in that proportion it must +be a rare case, and less important to be known: whatsoever +the future experience will be most like to +demand, the past experience will be most likely to +have furnished. All this we urge not against the +Eton grammar in particular: on the contrary, as +grammars go, we admire the Eton grammar;<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> and +love it with a filial partiality from early associations +(always excepting, however, the three lead-mines of +the Eton grammar, '<i>Propria quæ maribus</i>,' &c. of +which it is not extravagant to say, that the author, +though possibly a good sort of a man in his way, has +undoubtedly caused more human suffering than Nero, +Robespierre, or any other enemy of the human race). +Our opposition is to the general principle, which lies +at the root of such treatises as the three we have been +considering: it will be observed that, making a proper +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>allowance for the smallness of the print, these three +bodies of absurd anticipations of exceptions, are collectively +about equal in quantity, and virtually for the +effort to the memory far more than equal, to the whole +body of the rules contained in the Accidence and the +Syntax: <i>i. e.</i> that which exits on account of many +thousand cases is put on the same level of value and +burthen to the memory, as that which exists on +account of itself alone. Here lies the original sin of +grammars, the mortal taint on which they all demand +regeneration: whosoever would show himself a great +artist in the profound but as yet infant art of teaching, +should regard all arbitrary taxes upon the +memory with the same superstition that a wise lawgiver +should regard the punishment of death: the +lawgiver, who sets out with little knowledge (and +therefore little veneration) of human nature, is perpetually +invoking the thunders of the law to compensate +the internal weakness of his own laws: and +the same spirit of levity disposes inefficient teachers +to put in motion the weightiest machinery of the +mind for the most trifling purposes: but we are +convinced that this law should be engraven on the +title page of all elementary books—that the memory +is degraded, if it be called in to deliver any individual +fact, or any number of individual facts, or for any +less purpose than that of delivering a comprehensive +law, by means of which the understanding is to +<i>produce</i> the individual cases of knowledge wanted. +Wherever exceptions or insulated cases are noticed, +except in notes, which are not designed to be committed +to memory, this rule is violated; and the +Scotch expression for particularising, viz. <i>condescending +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>upon</i>, becomes applicable in a literal sense: when +the Eton grammar, <i>e. g.</i> notices <i>Deus</i> as deviating in +the vocative case from the general law for that declension, +the memory is summoned to an unreasonable +act of condescension—viz. to load itself almost as +heavily for one particular word in one particular case, +as it had done by the whole type of that declension +(<i>i. e.</i> the implicit law for all words contained under +it, which are possibly some thousands). But how +then would we have such exceptions learnt, if not by +an act of the memory? Precisely, we answer, as the +meanings of all the words in the language are +learned: how are <i>they</i> learned? They are known, +and they are remembered: but how? Not by any +act or effort of the memory: they are <i>deposited</i> in the +memory from daily intercourse with them: just as +the daily occurrences of our lives are recorded in our +memories: not through any exertion on our part, or +in consequence of previous determination on our parts +that we will remember them: on the contrary, we +take no pains about them, and often would willingly +forget them: but they stay there in spite of us, and +are pure <i>depositions</i>, settlings, or sediments, with or +without our concurrence, from the stream of our +daily experience.—Returning from this long excursus +on arbitrary taxations of the memory suggested to us +by the mention of '<i>Propria quæ maribus</i>,' which the +Experimentalist objects to as disgusting to children +before they have had experience of the cases in which +it furnishes assistance (but which we have objected +to as in any case barren of all power to assist), we +resume the course of our analysis. We left the +Experimentalist insisting on the benefit of directing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>the studies of children into such channels as that the +practical <i>uses</i> of their labours may become apprehensible +to themselves—as the first mode of producing a +love of knowledge. In some cases he admits that the +pupil must pass through 'dark defiles,' confiding +blindly in his tutor's 'assurance that he will at last +emerge into light:' but still contends that in many +cases it is possible, and where possible—right, that +he should 'catch a glimpse of the promised land.' +Thus, for example, to construe the language he is +learning—is an act of 'some respectability in his +eyes' and its uses apparent: meantime the uses of +the grammar are not so apparent until experience has +brought him acquainted with the real cases to which +it applies. On this account,—without laying aside +the grammar, let him be advanced to the dignity of +actual translation upon the very <i>minimum</i> of grammatical +knowledge which will admit of it. Again, in +arithmetic, it is the received practice to commence +with 'abstract numbers:' but, instead of risking +injury to the child's intellect and to his temper by +thus calling upon him to add together 'long rows of +figures' to which no meaning is attached, he is taught +'to calculate all the various little problems which +may be constructed respecting his tops and marbles, +their price, and their comparative value.' Here the +Experimentalist turns aside for about a page (from +'while,' p. 101—to 'practicable,' p. 102) to 'acknowledge +his obligations to what is called Mental +Arithmetic—that is, calculation without the employment +of written symbols.' Jedediah Buxton's preternatural +powers in this way have been long published +to the world, and may now be found recorded in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +Encyclopædias: the Experimentalist refers also to the +more recent cases of Porson and the American youth +Zerah Colborn: amongst his own pupils it appears +(p. 54) that this exercise is practised in the morning +twilight, which for any other study would not furnish +sufficient light: he does not pretend to any very +splendid marvels: but the following facts, previously +recited at pp. 16 and 17, he thinks may astonish +'those who have not estimated the combined power +of youth, ardour, and practice.' The lower classes +calculate, purely by the mind without any help from +pen or pencil, questions respecting interest; determine +whether a given year be bissextile or not, &c. &c. +The upper classes determine the age of the moon at +any given time, the day of the week which corresponds +with any day of any month, and year, and Easter +Sunday for a given year. They will square any +number not exceeding a thousand, extract the square +root of a number of not more than five places, +determine the space through which a body falls in a +given time, the circumference and areas of circles +from their diameters, and solve many problems in +mensuration: they practise also Mental Algebra, &c. +In mental, no less than in written, Arithmetic, 'by +assimilating the questions to those which actually +occur in the transactions of life,' the pupil is made +sensible that he is rising into the usefulness and respectability +of real business. The imitative principle +of man is thus made to blend with the motive derived +from the sense of utility. The same blended feelings, +combined with the pleasurable influences of open air, +are relied upon for creating the love of knowledge in +the practice of surveying. In this operation so large +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>an aggregate of subsidiary knowledge is demanded,—of +arithmetic, for instance—of mensuration—of trigonometry, +together with 'the manual facility of constructing +maps and plans,' that a sudden revelation is +made to the pupils of the uses and indispensableness +of many previous studies which hitherto they had +imperfectly appreciated; they also 'exercise their +discretion in choosing points of observation; they +learn expertness in the use, and care in the preservation +of instruments: and, above all,—from this feeling +that they are really <i>at work</i>, they acquire that +sobriety and steadiness of conduct in which the elder +school-boy is so often inferior to his less fortunate +neighbour, who has been removed at an early age +to the accompting-house.'—The value of the sense of +utility the Experimentalist brings home forcibly to +every reader's recollections, by reminding him of the +many cases in which a sudden desire for self-education +breaks out in a few months after the close of an +inefficient education: 'and what,' he asks, 'produces +the change? The experience, however short, of the +utility of acquisitions, which were perhaps lately +despised.' Better then 'to spare the future man +many moments of painful retrospection,' by educing +this sense of utility, 'while the time and opportunity +of improvement remain unimpaired.' Finally, the +sense of utility is connected with the peculiar exercises +in <i>composition</i>; 'a department of education which we +confess' (says the Experimentalist) 'has often caused +us considerable uneasiness;' an uneasiness which we, +on our part, look upon as groundless. For starting +ourselves from the same point with the Experimentalist +and the authority he alleges—viz. that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +<i>matter</i> of a good theme or essay altogether transcends +the reflective powers and the opportunities for observing +of a raw school-boy,—we yet come to a very +different practical conclusion. The act of composition +cannot, it is true, create thoughts in a boy's head +unless they exist previously. On this consideration, +let all questions of general speculation be dismissed +from school exercises: especially questions of <i>moral</i> +speculation, which usually furnish the thesis of a +school-boy's essay: let us have no more themes on +Justice—on Ambition—on Benevolence—on the Love +of Fame, &c.: for all theses such as these, which treat +moral qualities as pure abstractions, are stripped of +their <i>human</i> interest: and few adults even could +write endurably upon such subjects in such a shape; +though many might have written very pleasingly and +judiciously upon a moral <i>case</i>—<i>i. e.</i> on a moral question +<i>in concreto</i>. Grant that a school-boy has no +independent thoughts of any value; yet every boy +has thoughts dependent upon what he has read—thoughts +involved in it—thoughts derived from it: +but these he will (<i>cæteris paribus</i>) be more or less +able to express, as he has been more or less accustomed +to express them. The unevolved thoughts which pass +through the youngest—the rudest—the most inexperienced +brain, are innumerable; not detached—voluntary +thoughts, but thoughts inherent in what is +seen, talked of, experienced, or read of. To evolve +these, to make them apprehensible by others, and +often even to bring them within their own consciousness, +is very difficult to most people; and at times to +all people: and the power, by which this difficulty is +conquered, admits of endless culture: and, amongst +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>the modes of culture, is that of written composition. +The true value of this exercise lies in the necessity +which it imposes of forming distinct ideas—of connecting +them—of disposing them into such an arrangement +as that they can be connected—of clothing them +in words—and many more acts of the mind: both +analytic and synthetic. All that is necessary is—to +determine for the young composer his choice of +matter: require him therefore to narrate an interesting +story which he has formerly read; to rehearse the +most interesting particulars of a day's excursion: in +the case of more advanced students, let them read one +of the English state trials, where the evidence is of a +complex character (as the trials on Titus Oates's plot), +or a critical dissertation on some interesting question, +or anything in short which admits of analysis—of +abstraction—of expansion—or exhibition in an altered +shape. Subjects for all this are innumerable; and, +according to the selection made, more or less opportunity +is given for collecting valuable knowledge: +but this purpose is collateral to the one we are speaking +of: the direct purpose is to exercise the mind in +unravelling its own thoughts, which else lie huddled +and tangled together in a state unfit for use, and but +dimly developed to the possessor's own consciousness.—The +three other modes of producing a love of +knowledge, which the Experimentalist relies on, viz. +the proportioning the difficulties to the capacity of +the learner, the pleasure of success, and the communication +of clear, vivid, and accurate conceptions, are +treated with good sense—but not with any great +originality: the last indeed (to speak scholastically) +contains the other three <i>eminenter</i>: for he, who has +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>once arrived at clear conceptions in relation to the +various objects of his study, will not fail to generate +for himself the pleasure of success; and so of the rest. +But the power of communicating 'accurate conceptions' +involves so many other powers, that it is in +strictness but another name for the faculty of teaching +in general. We fully agree with the Experimentalist +(at p. 118), that the tutor would do well 'to +provide himself with the various weights commonly +spoken of, and the measures of content and of length; +to portion off upon his play-ground a land-chain, a +rood,' &c. to furnish 'maps' tracing 'the routes of +armies;' 'plates exhibiting the costumes' of different +nations: and more especially we agree with him (at +p. 135) that in teaching the classics the tutor should +have at hand 'plates or drawings of ships, temples, +houses, altars, domestic and sacred utensils, robes, and +of every object of which they are likely to read.' 'It +is,' as he says, 'impossible to calculate the injury +which the minds of children suffer from the habit of +receiving imperfect ideas:' and it is discreditable in +the highest degree to the majority of good classical +scholars that they have no accurate knowledge of the +Roman calendar, and no knowledge at all of the +classical coinage, &c.: not one out of every twenty +scholars can state the relation of the <i>sestertius</i> to the +<i>denarius</i>, of the Roman <i>denarius</i> to the Attic <i>drachma</i>, +or express any of them in English money. All such +defects are weighty: but they are not adequate +illustrations of the injury which arises from inaccurate +ideas in its most important shape. It is a +subject however which we have here no room to +enlarge upon.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Rewards and Punishments.</span>—It has already been +mentioned that corporal punishments are entirely +abolished;<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> and upon the same principle all such +disgrace as 'would destroy self-respect.' 'Expulsion +even has been resorted to, rather than a boy should +be submitted to treatment which might lead himself +and his school-fellows to forget that he was a gentleman.' +In this we think the Experimentalist very +wise: and precisely upon this ground it was that Mr. +Coleridge in his lectures at the Royal Institution +attacked Mr. Lancaster's system, which deviated +from the Madras system chiefly in the complexity +of the details, and by pressing so cruelly in its +punishments upon the principle of shame. 'Public +disgrace' (as the Experimentalist alleges, p. 83) 'is +painful exactly in proportion to the good feeling of +the offender:' and thus the good are more heavily +punished than the bad. Confinement, and certain +disabilities, are the severest punishments: but the +former is 'as rare as possible; both because it is +attended with unavoidable disgrace' (but what +punishment is wholly free from this objection?) 'and +because, unlike labour, it is pain without any utility'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +(p. 183). The ordinary punishments therefore consist +in the forfeiture of rewards, which are certain +counters obtained by various kinds of merit. These +are of two classes, <i>penal</i> (so called from being received +as forfeits) and premial, which are obtained by a +higher degree of merit, and have higher powers +attached to them. Premial counters will purchase +<i>holidays</i>, and will also purchase <i>rank</i> (which on this +system is of great importance). A conflict is thus +created between pleasure and ambition, which generally +terminates in favour of the latter: 'a boy of +fourteen, although constantly in the possession of +marks sufficient to obtain a holiday per week, has +bought but three-quarters of a day's relaxation +during the whole of the last year. The same boy +purchased his place on the list by a sacrifice of marks +sufficient to have obtained for him twenty-six half-holidays.' +The purchase of rank, the reader must +remember, is no way objectionable—considering the +means by which the purchase-money is obtained. One +chief means is by study during the hours of leisure—<i>i. e.</i> +by <i>voluntary labour</i>: this is treated of (rather out +of its place) in Chap. VII., which ought to be considered +as belonging to the first part of the work, viz. +to the exposition of the system. Voluntary labour +took its rise from the necessity of furnishing those +boys, who had no chance of obtaining rank through +their talents, with some other means of distinguishing +themselves: this is accomplished in two modes: first, +by giving rewards for industry exerted out of school +hours, and receiving these rewards as the price of +rank; making no other stipulation than one, in +addition to its being 'tolerably well executed'—viz.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +that it shall be in a state of completion. The +Experimentalist comments justly at p. 187, on 'the +mental dissipation in which persons of talent often +indulge' as being 'destructive beyond what can readily +be imagined' and as leading to 'a life of shreds and +patches.' 'We take care' (says he) 'to reward no +boy for fragments, whatever may be their excellence. +We know nothing of his exertions until they come +before us in a state of completion.' Hence, besides +gaining the 'habit of finishing' in early youth, the +boy has an interest also in gaining the habit of +measuring his own powers: for he knows 'that he +can receive neither fame nor profit by instalments;' +and therefore 'undertakes nothing which he has not +a rational hope of accomplishing.'<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> A second mode of +preventing rank from being monopolised by talents +is by flinging the school into various arrangements, +one of which is founded on 'propriety of manners and +general good conduct.'</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We have thus gone through a pretty full analysis, +and a very accurate one, of the new system as +contained in the three first chapters. Of the five +miscellaneous chapters, the seventh or last but one +(on <i>voluntary labour</i>), has been interwoven with our +analysis; and the eighth, which contains a comparison +of public and private education, we do not purpose to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>notice; the question is very sensibly discussed; but +it is useless to discuss any question like this, which is +a difficult problem only because it is an unlimited +problem. Let the parent satisfy himself about the +object he has in view for his child, and let him +consider the particular means which he has at his +disposal for securing a good private education, and he +may then determine it for himself. As far as the +attainment of knowledge is concerned,—it is always +possible to secure a good public education, and not +always possible to secure a good private one. Where +either is possible indifferently, the comparison will +proceed upon more equal grounds: and inquiry may +then be made about the child's destination in future +life: for many destinations a public education being +much more eligible than for others. Under a perfect +indetermination of everything relating to the child—the +question is as indeterminable as—whether it is +better to go to the Bank through Holborn or through +the Strand: the particular case being given, it may +then be possible to answer the question; previously +it is impossible.——Three chapters therefore remain, +viz.—Chap. IV. on Languages; Chap. V. on Elocution; +and Chap. VI. on Penmanship.</p> + +<p><i>Chap. IV. On the best method of acquiring Languages.</i>—The +Experimentalist had occasion to observe +'that, in the Welsh towns which are frequented by +the English, even the children speak both languages +with fluency:' this fact, contrasted with the labour +and pain entailed upon the boy who is learning Latin +(to say nothing of the eventual disgust to literature +which is too often the remote consequence), and the +drudgery entailed upon the master who teaches Latin,—and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>fortified by the consideration, that in the +former instance the child learns to speak a new +language, but in the latter only to read it,—first +drew his attention to the <i>natural</i> mode of learning +languages, <i>i. e.</i> learning them from daily use. This +mode never fails with living languages: but how is +it to be applied to dead languages? The Experimentalist +retorts by asking what is essential to this mode? +Partly the necessity which the pupil is laid under of +using the language daily for the common intercourse +of life, and partly his hearing it spoken by those who +thoroughly understand it. 'Stimulus to exertion +then, and good models, are the great advantages of +this mode of instruction:' and these, he thinks, are +secured even for a dead language by his system: the +first by the motives to exertion which have already +been unfolded; and the second by the acting of Latin +dramas (which had been previously noticed in his +Exposition of the system). But a third imitation of +the <i>natural</i> method he places in the use of translations, +'which present the student with a dictionary +both of words and phrases arranged in the order in +which he wants them,' and in an abstinence from all +use of the grammar, until the learner himself shall +come to feel the want of it; <i>i. e.</i> using it with reference +to an experience already accumulated, and not +as an anticipation of an experience yet to come. The +ordinary objection to the use of translations—that +they produce indolent habits, he answers thus: 'We +teach by the process of <i>construing</i>; and therefore, +even with the translation before him, the scholar will +have a task to perform in matching the English, +word by word, with the language which he is learning.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +For this <i>natural</i> method of learning languages +he alleges the authority of Locke, of Ascham, and of +Pestalozzi. The best method, with those who have +advanced to some degree of proficiency, he considers +that of double translations—<i>i. e.</i> a translation first of +all into the mother tongue of the learner, and a re-translation +of this translation back into the language +of the original. These, with the help of extemporaneous +construing, <i>i. e.</i> construing any passage at +random with the assistance of a master who supplies +the meaning of the unknown words as they arise (a +method practised, it seems, by Le Febvre the father +of Madame Dacier, by others before his time, and by +Condillac since)—compose the chief machinery which +he employs for the communication of dead languages.</p> + +<p><i>Chap. V. On Elocution.</i>—In this chapter there is +not much which is very important. To read well, the +Experimentalist alleges, presupposes so much various +knowledge, especially of that kind which is best +acquired by private reading, and therefore most spares +the labour of the tutor, that it ought reasonably to +bestow high rank in the school. Private reading is +most favourable to the rapid collection of an author's +meaning: but for reading well—this is not sufficient: +two great constituents of that art remain to be +acquired—Enunciation and Inflection. These are +best learned by Recitation. Thus far there is no +great novelty: the most interesting part of the +chapter is what relates to Stammering. This defect +is held by the Experimentalist to result from inattention +to rhythmus: so much he thinks has been +proved by Mr. Thelwall. Whatsoever therefore +compels the pupil to an efficient perception of time +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>and measure, as for example, marching and music +(p. 32), he resorts to for its correction. Stammerers, +he observes, can all sing: let them be taught to sing +therefore, if not otherwise corrigible: and from this +let them descend to <i>recitative</i>: then to the recitation +of verses distinguished by the simplicity of their +rhythmus, marching at the same time and marking +the accented syllables by the tread of the foot; from +this to the recitation of more difficult verses; from +that to measured prose; thence to ordinary prose; +and lastly to narrative and dialogue.</p> + +<p><i>Chap. VI. Of Penmanship.</i>—This is a subject on +which we profess no experience which could warrant +us in contradicting a writer who should rest his innovations +solely upon that ground: but the writer +before us does not rely on the practical issue of his +own experiment (he does not even tell us what that +issue was), but on certain <i>à priori</i> arguments, which +we conceive to be ill-reasoned. The amount of the +chapter is this—that to write a good running hand is +the main object to be aimed at in the art of caligraphy: +we will go farther, and concede that it is the +sole object, unless where the pupil is educated for a +writing-master. Thus far we are agreed; and the +question is—as to the best means of attaining this +object. On which question the plan here proposed +differs from those in use by the very natural error—that +what is admitted to be the ultimate object, this +plan would make the immediate object. The author +starts from a false theory of the practice amongst +writing-masters: in order that their pupils may write +small and running hands well, writing-masters (as is +well-known) begin by exacting from them a long +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>praxis in large hands. But the rationale of this +praxis escapes the Experimentalist: the large hand +and the small hand stand related to each other, in +the estimate of the masters, as a means to an end; +whereas the Experimentalist supposes them to be +viewed in the relation simply of two co-ordinate or +collateral ends: on which false presumption he +grounds what would on his own view be a very sound +advice; for justly conceiving that the small hand is of +incomparably more use in life, he argues in effect +thus: let us communicate the main object, and then +(if he has leisure and taste for it) let the pupil direct +his attention to the lower object: 'when the running +hand is accomplished,' says he, 'the pupil may (if it +be thought necessary) learn to write the larger hands +according to the received models.' <i>When</i> it is acquired! +'Aye, but in order that it <i>may</i> be acquired,'—the +writing-master will reply, 'I must first teach the +larger hands.' As well might the professor of dancing +hold out as a tempting innovation to the public—I +teach the actual dances, the true practical synthesis +of the steps and movements, as it is in fact demanded +by the usage of the ball-room: let others teach the +analytic elements of the art—the mere useless steps—to +those who have time to waste on superfluities. +In either art (as in many others) that, which is first +(or rather sole) in order of importance, is last in the +order of attainment: as an object <i>per se</i>, the larger +hand is not wanted at all, either before or after the +running hand: if it does really contribute nothing to +the more accurate formation of the letters, by compelling +the pupil to exhibit his aberrations from the +<i>ideal</i> letter more clearly because on a scale of greater +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>magnitude (which yet in the second sentence of this +chapter our Experimentalist himself admits), then let +it be abandoned at once: for not doing this service, +it does nothing at all. On the other hand, if this be +its specific service, then it is clear that, being no +object <i>per se</i>, but simply a means to an object, it +must have precedency in the order of communication. +And the innovation of our Experimentalist is so far +(in the literal sense of that word) a <i>preposterous</i> inversion +of the old usage: and this being the chief +principle of his 'plan' we desire to know no more of +it; and were not sorry that (p. 178) we found him +declining 'to enter into a detail of it.'—The business +of the chapter being finished however, there yet +remains some little matter of curiosity. 1. The Experimentalist +affirms that 'Langford's copper-plate +copies, or indeed any other which he has seen, fail' if +tried by a certain test: what test? Why this: that +'the large hand seen through a diminishing glass, +ought to be reduced into the current hand; and the +current hand, magnified, ought to swell into a large +hand.' Whereas, on the contrary, 'the large hands +reduced appear very stiff and cramped; and the magnified +running hand'—'appears little better than a +scrawl.' Now to us the result appears in a different +light. It is true that the large hands reduced do not +appear good running hands according to the standard +derived from the actual practice of the world: but +why? Simply because they are too good: <i>i. e.</i> they are +<i>ideals</i> and in fact are meant to be so; and have nothing +characteristic: they are purely <i>generic</i> hands, and +therefore want <i>individualisation</i>: they are abstractions; +but to affect us pleasurably, they should be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>concrete expressions of some human qualities, moral or +intellectual. Perfect features in a human face arranged +with perfect symmetry, affect us not at all, as +is well known, where there is nothing characteristic; +the latency of the individual in the generic, and of the +generic in the individual, is that which gives to each +its power over our human sensibilities. And this +holds of caligraphy no less than other arts. And +<i>that</i> is the most perfect hand-writing which unites the +<i>minimum</i> of deviation from the ideal standard of +beauty (as to the form and nexus of the letters) with +the <i>maximum</i> of characteristic expression. It has +long been practically felt, and even expressly affirmed +(in some instances even expanded into a distinct art +and professed as such), that it is possible to determine +the human <i>intellectual</i> character as to some of its +features from the hand-writing. Books even have +been written on this art, as <i>e. g.</i> the <i>Ideographia</i>, or +art of knowing the characters of men from their +hand-writings, by <i>Aldorisius</i>: and, though this in +common with all other modes of <i>physiognomy</i>, as +craniology, Lavaterianism (usually called physiognomy), +&c. &c. has laboured under the reproach of +fancifulness,—yet we ought not to attribute this +wholly to the groundlessness of the art as a possible +art—but to these two causes; partly to the precipitation +and imperfect psychology of the professors; who, +like the craniologists, have been over-ready to determine +the <i>indicantia</i> before they had settled according +to any tolerable theory the <i>indicanda</i>; <i>i. e.</i> have +settled what A, what B, what C, shall <i>indicate</i>, before +they have inquired what it was presumable upon +any systematic development of human nature would +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>have a right <i>to be indicated</i>; and thus have assigned +an external characteristic to a faculty of the third +order—suppose (or perhaps a mere accidental effect +of a faculty or a mere imaginary faculty), whilst a +primary faculty went without any expression at all:—partly, +I say, to this cause which is obviously not +merely a subjective but also an accidental cause; and +partly also to the following cause, which is objective +(<i>i. e.</i> seated in the inherent imperfections of the art itself, +and not removeable therefore by any future +improvements to be anticipated from a more matured +psychology); viz. that the human mind transcends +or overflows the gamut or scale of the art; in other +words, that the qualities—intellectual or moral, which +ought to be expressed, are far more in number than +the alphabet of signs or expressions by which they are +to be enunciated. Hence it follows as an inevitable +dilemma, that many qualities must go unrepresented; +or else be represented by signs common to them with +other qualities: in the first of which cases we have +an art imperfect from defect, in the other case imperfect +from equivocal language. Thus, for example, +determination of character is built in some cases upon +mere energy of the will (a moral cause); and again +in other cases upon capaciousness of judgment and +freedom from all logical perplexity (an intellectual +cause). Yet it is possible that either cause will +modify the hand-writing in the same way.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From the long analysis which we have thus given +of the book recording this new system of education, +it is sufficiently evident that we think very highly of +it. In the hands of its founder we are convinced that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>it is calculated to work wonders; and so strong is +the impression which his book conveys, that he is not +only a man of very extraordinary talents for the +improvement of the science of education, but also a +very conscientious man—that, for our own parts, we +should confide a child to his care with that spirit of +perfect confidence which he has himself described at +p. 74. There is an air of gentlemanly feeling spread +over the book which tends still further to recommend +the author. Meantime two questions arise on the +system,—first, is it a good system? which we have +answered:—secondly, is it a system adapted for +general diffusion? This question we dare not answer +in the affirmative, unless we could ensure the talents +and energy of the original inventor in every other +superintendent of this system.—In this we may be +wrong: but at all events, it ought not to be considered +as any deduction from the merits of the +author—as a very original thinker on the science of +education, that his system is not (like the Madras +system) independent of the teacher's, ability, and +therefore not unconditionally applicable.—Upon some +future occasion we shall perhaps take an opportunity +of stating what is in our opinion the great desideratum +which is still to be supplied in the art of education +considered simply in its <i>intellectual</i> purposes—viz. the +communication of knowledge, and the development of +the intellectual faculties: purposes which have not +been as yet treated in sufficient insulation from the +<i>moral</i> purposes. For the present we shall conclude +by recommending to the notice of the Experimentalist +the German writers on education. Basedow, who +naturalised Rousseau in Germany, was the first +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>author who called the attention of the German public +to this important subject. Unfortunately Basedow +had a silly ambition of being reputed an infidel, and +thus created a great obstacle to his own success: he +was also in many other respects a sciolist and a trifler: +but, since his time, the subject has been much cultivated +in Germany: 'Paedogogic' journals even, have +been published periodically, like literary or philosophic +journals: and, as might be anticipated from that love +of children which so honourably distinguishes the +Germans as a people, not without very considerable +success.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>CASE OF APPEAL.</h3> + +<p>Our little Courts of Justice not unfrequently +furnish cases of considerable interest; and we are +always willing to make the resemblance between our +microcosm and the world at large as close as possible, +at least in every useful point we are trying to collect +a volume of Reports. As all the boys are expected +to be present during a trial, to give importance to +the proceeding, the time of such as are capable of the +task must be profitably employed in taking notes. +A useful effect may also be produced upon the parties; +and these records will be valuable acquisitions for +those boys who wish to study the laws, and enable +themselves to conduct the jurisprudence of the school. +We shall detail a case which lately occurred, not +because it is the most interesting which could have +been selected, but because there will be nothing in +its publication to hurt the feelings of any person +engaged in the transaction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>It would be vain to attempt any concealment of +the fact that our pupils, like all boys in the full tide +of health and spirits, do not always see the folly of +an appeal to the <i>ultimo ratio regum</i> in so strong a +light as that in which it <i>sometimes</i> appears to older +eyes; and resort is now and then had to trial by +combat, in preference to trial by jury. The candid +and experienced teacher, who knows the difficulty +and the danger of too rigorously suppressing natural +impulses, will not censure us for endeavouring to regulate +this custom, than to destroy it altogether. In +the hope of lessening the number of those <i>fracas</i> +(never very large), a law was proposed, which the +committee adopted, to render it penal for any person, +except the Magistrate and the Constables, to be present +at a battle. Six hours' notice must be given by +both parties, and a tax paid in advance. During the +interval, it is the duty of the Magistrate to attempt +a reconciliation. These regulations were intended to +give opportunity for the passions to cool, and to +check the inclination for display which is often the +sole cause of the disturbance.</p> + +<p>We consider the effect on the minds of the spectators +as the worst part of the transaction. There +is something dreadfully brutalising in the shouts of +incitement and triumph which generally accompany +a feat of pugilism. Neither boys nor men ought +ever to witness pain without sympathy. It is almost +needless to say, that, with us, fighting is anything +rather than a source of festivity and amusement.</p> + +<p>To return to our story.—A day-scholar, whose +father's grounds adjoin ours, was discovered by the +Magistrate to have witnessed a battle from a tree +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>which he had climbed for that purpose. The Magistrate +fined him. He appealed, and the question of +his liability was argued at some length before the +Committee.</p> + +<p>The ground which the appellant took was, that no +day-scholar could be amenable to the laws of the +school, except during the hours of business, or while +on the premises of the school, and that the alleged +offence was committed out of school hours, and on +his father's land.</p> + +<p>Public opinion ran in his favour. The plea that +he was on his father's land seemed to have great +weight with his schoolfellows. To fine a boy under +such circumstances appeared to them like an attempt +to invade the paternal sanctuary, and the motion for +quashing conviction of the Magistrate, at first received +the support of several members of the Committee.</p> + +<p>The attending Teacher saw that it would be necessary +to call the attention of the Committee to general +principles, and proposed as an amendment to the +general motion, the following resolution, 'That it is +desirable that the laws should be obeyed at all times, +and in all places.' In support of this amendment he +argued, that as the laws had the happiness of the +school in view, a breach of those laws must certainly +be in some degree destructive of the general good. +That to allow this in certain individuals would be +injurious to the great body, but still more so to the +individuals themselves; and that what was wrong in +the schoolroom or on the playground at eleven in the +morning, could not be right in the fields at six in the +afternoon. In conclusion he said, 'Whether or not +we have the power to fine a person for a breach of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>our laws when he is at a distance from the schools, +is a question which it is not our present business to +determine; but I firmly believe that our laws are +calculated to promote in the highest degree our +welfare, and I wish the advantages to be derived from +obeying them to be as widely diffused as possible.'</p> + +<p>The amendment was carried unanimously.</p> + +<p>Having determined 'that it was desirable that the +laws should be obeyed at all times and in all places,' +it was necessary in the next place to ascertain whether +it was not a part of our law that such should be +the case.</p> + +<p>With this view an amendment was proposed which +declared, that such was the intention of the law, and +in support of it cases were cited in which day-boys +had been punished for offences committed at a distance +from the school. It was also insisted, that in no +single instance had the laws made an exception in +favour of the day-boys. They universally begin by +saying, that, if 'any one,' or 'any pupil,' or 'any boy,' +shall commit such and such an offence, etc., and not +'any boarder,' or 'any day-boy then at school.'</p> + +<p>The second amendment was also carried without +opposition.</p> + +<p>The question was now confined within very narrow +limits. The Committee had declared that it was +'desirable that the laws should be obeyed at all times +and in all places;' and also, that by law no exception +was made in favour of day-scholars. It only remained +therefore for the Committee to consider, whether the +police of the school had the power to enforce the laws.</p> + +<p>It was argued that in this case they had been enforced, +for that the fine had actually been paid, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>that unless the Committee interfered to prevent it, +they would continue to operate as they had done, for +the welfare of the school at large, and for the ultimate +advantage even of the individuals who might +at first appear to be injured.</p> + +<p>The amended motion was now put, and the +conviction was unanimously confirmed.</p> + +<p>This detail will furnish the reader with a more +correct conception than we could otherwise give him, +of the opportunities with which the sittings of our +little Committees furnish the members for making +some important acquirements.</p> + +<p>In the first place, they study the art of reasoning, +and that too under very favourable circumstances; +being fully acquainted with the facts on which they +are called to exercise their judgments, and seeing +them in all their bearings. We believe that intimate +acquaintance with the facts of which we speak to be +the first and most important element in practical +logic. Reasoning, strictly speaking, being no more +than the art of tracing analogies and differences. +The <i>reality</i> of the business in which the students are +engaged is very valuable, inasmuch as it furnishes +them with strong motives to exert all their powers +in the investigation. The matter at issue 'comes +home to their business and bosoms;' it may deeply +affect their interests, and will not pass unnoticed by +their constituents; among whom the question will +be again discussed, and the Committee-men will in +conversation have to defend the opinions they have +officially expressed. Thus every argument is well +canvassed in their minds, and the ideas remain under +consideration for a sufficient time to become permanently +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>fixed in their remembrance. The power of +public speaking is also in some degree acquired, and, +we hope, without the countervailing evils which have +been so justly deprecated. The great defects of all +artificial methods of learning the art of debating is, +that it is seldom of any real importance to either +speaker or hearer, on which side the question under +discussion is determined; consequently, the speaker +is more anxious to display his own talents, than to +convince the audience; which, on its part, wishes +rather for amusement than instruction, or seeks the +latter only by watching the conduct of this mental +fencing-match, in order to learn the most skilful +manner of handling the foils. Every one who addresses +the company assembled, feels that he shall be more +applauded for agreeably wandering, than for pointing +out and following the best and straightest road. In +short, discussion, instead of being a means employed +to gain an object, is the end itself.</p> + +<p>The orator, if such a name is to be so degraded, +rises not to gain the votes of his hearers, but to make +them laugh and clap their hands; and, this is most +easily done by advancing smart sophisms, and uttering +well-delivered absurdities with mock solemnity, +we may readily conceive how little the powers of +investigation can be exercised and improved by such +practice as that of spouting clubs and debating +societies. No doubt there are many exceptions to +these remarks, but the vice we complain of is, we +fear, inherent in some degree in the nature of the +institutions, although by care in the choice of members, +and the selection of an audience, it may, in a +great measure, be counteracted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>We must not forget to state the advantages +enjoyed by the Teacher's attendance on the sittings +of our Committees. He becomes most intimately acquainted +with the minds of his pupils. He sees their +difficulties and their errors in a strong light, and is +placed in a situation for addressing himself more +completely to the state of their wants than he could +be, unless they were thus induced, and almost compelled, +to disclose all the workings of the mental +machine. In general, nearly every person who +knows a boy at all, has an opportunity of becoming +better acquainted with him than his instructor. No +wonder, considering the many painful sensations +which the latter, in his various offices of accuser, +witness, judge and executioner, is compelled to exite. +We are happily relieved from these difficulties, but +we still seize with avidity every means by which our +pupils may be induced to develop their minds to our +view, feeling that our acquaintance with their springs +of thought and action can never be too accurate and +complete. The votes at the conclusion of the debate +show us the measure of our success. Every influence +except that of mind, is, we trust, out of the question: +we do not always carry a majority with us; and this +fact gives us hope, that when we do, a sincere effect +has been wrought on the convictions of the boys.</p> + +<p>To conclude, we must in candour acknowledge, +that we search more industriously for arguments and +illustrations to support our opinions, than we should +or <i>could</i> do, under other circumstances. The effect +on the mind of the Master is not a bad test of any +method of education.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="215" id="ABSTRACT_OF_SWEDENBORGIANISM"></a>ABSTRACT OF SWEDENBORGIANISM:</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> IMMANUEL KANT.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>May, 1824.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>———But now to my hero. If many a forgotten +writer, or writer destined to be forgotten, is on that +account the more deserving of applause for having +spared no cost of toil and intellectual exertion upon +his works, certainly Swedenborg of all such writers is +deserving of the most. Without doubt his flask in +the moon is full; and not at all less than any of those +which Ariosto saw in that planet filled with the lost +wits of men, so thoroughly is his great work emptied +of every drop of common sense. Nevertheless there +prevails in every part so wonderful an agreement with +all that the most refined and consistent sense under +the same fantastic delusions could produce on the +same subject, that the reader will pardon me if I +here detect the same curiosities in the caprices of +fancy which many other virtuosi have detected in the +caprices of nature; for instance, in variegated marble, +where some have discovered a holy family; or in +stalactites and petrifactions, where others have discovered +monks, baptismal fonts, and organs; or even +in frozen window-panes, where our countryman +Liscow, the humourist, discovered the number of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>beast and the triple crown; things which he only is +apt to descry, whose head is preoccupied with thoughts +about them.</p> + +<p>The main work of this writer is composed of eight +quarto volumes full of nonsense, which he presented +to the world as a new revelation under the title of +<i>Arcana Cœlestia</i>. In this work his visions are chiefly +directed to the discovery of the secret sense in the +two first books of Moses, and to a similar way of +interpreting the whole of the Scripture. All these +fantastic interpretations are nothing to my present +purpose: those who have any curiosity may find some +account of them in the <i>Bibliotheca Theologica</i> of Dr. +Ernesti. All that I design to extract are his <i>audita +et visa</i>, from the supplements to his chapters—that +which he saw with his own eyes, and heard with his +own ears: for these parts of his dreams it is which +are to be considered as the foundation of all the rest. +Swedenborg's style is dull and mean. His narrations +and their whole contexture appear in fact to have +originated in a disorder of his sensitive faculty, and +suggest no reason for suspecting that the speculative +delusions of a depraved intellect have moved him to +invent them. Viewed in this light, they are really +of some importance—and deserve to be exhibited in +a short abstract; much more indeed than many a +brainless product of fantastic philosophers who swell +our journals with false subtilties; for a coherent +delusion of the senses is always a more remarkable +phenomenon than a delusion of the intellect; inasmuch +as the grounds of this latter delusion are well +known, and the delusion itself corrigible enough by +self-exertion and by putting more check upon the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>rash precipitation of the judgment; whereas a delusion +of the senses touches the original foundation +of all judgment, and where it exists is radically +incapable of all cure from logic. I distinguish therefore +in our author his craziness of sense from his +crazy wits; and I pass over his absurd and distorted +reasonings in those parts where he abandons his +visions, for the same reason that in reading a philosopher +we are often obliged to separate his observations +from his arguments: and generally, delusive +experiences are more instructive than delusive grounds +of experience in the reason. Whilst I thus rob the +reader of some few moments, which otherwise perhaps +he would have spent with no greater profit in reading +works of abstract philosophy that are often of not +less trivial import,—I have at the same time provided +for the delicacy of his taste by the omission of many +chimæras, and by concentrating the essence of the +book into a few drops; and for this I anticipate no +less gratitude from him than (according to the old +story) a patient expressed towards his physicians—who +had contented themselves with ordering him to +eat the bark of the quinquina, when it was clearly in +their power to have insisted on his eating up the +whole tree.</p> + +<p>Mr. Swedenborg divides his visions into three kinds, +of which the first consists in being liberated from the +body—an intermediate state between waking and +sleeping, in which he saw—heard—and felt spirits. +This kind he has experienced three or four times. +The second consists in being carried away by spirits, +whilst he continues to walk the streets (suppose) +without losing his way; meantime in spirit he is in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>quite other regions, and sees distinctly houses, men, +forests, &c.; and all this for some hours long, until +he suddenly finds himself again in his true place. +This has happened to him two or three times. The +third or ordinary kind of visions is that which he +has daily when wide awake; and from this class his +narrations are chiefly taken. All men, according to +Swedenborg, stand in an intimate connection with the +spiritual world; only they are not aware of it; and +the difference between himself and others consists +simply in this—that his innermost nature is laid +open, of which gift he always speaks with the most +devout spirit of gratitude (Datum mihi est ex divinâ +Domini misericordiâ). From the context it is apparent +that this gift consists in the consciousness of +those obscure representations which the soul receives +through its continual connection with the spiritual +world. Accordingly he distinguishes in men between +the external and the internal memory. The former +he enjoys as a person who belongs to the visible world, +but the latter in virtue of his intercourse with the +spiritual world. Upon this distinction is grounded +also the distinction between the outer and inner man; +and Swedenborg's prerogative consists in this—that +he stands already in this life in the society of spirits, +and is recognised by them as possessing such a prerogative. +In the inner memory is retained whatsoever +has vanished from the outer; and of all which is +presented to the consciousness of man nothing is ever +lost. After death the remembrance of all which ever +entered his soul, and even all that had perished to +himself, constitutes the entire book of his life. The +presence of spirits, it is true, strikes only upon his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>inner sense. Nevertheless this is able to excite an +apparition of these spirits external to himself, and +even to invest them with a human figure. The +language of spirits is an <i>immediate</i> and unsymbolic +communication of ideas; notwithstanding which it is +always clothed in the semblance of that language +which Swedenborg himself speaks, and is represented +as external to him. One spirit reads in the memory +of another spirit all the representations, whether +images or ideas, which it contains. Thus the spirits see +in Swedenborg all the representations which he has +of this world; and with so clear an intuition that +they often deceive themselves and fancy that they see +the objects themselves immediately—which however +is impossible, since no pure spirit has the slightest +perception of the material universe: nay they cannot +gain any idea of it through intercourse with the souls +of other living men, because their inner nature is not +opened—<i>i. e.</i> their inner sense contains none but +obscure representations. Hence it arises that Mr. +Swedenborg is the true oracle of spirits, which are +not at all less curious to read in him the present +condition of the world, than he is to view in their +memory, as in a mirror, the marvels of the spiritual +world. Although these spirits stand in like manner +closely connected with all other souls of living men, +by a reciprocal commerce of action and passion, yet +they are as little aware of this as men are aware of +it. Spirits therefore ascribe to themselves as the +product of their own minds what in fact results from +the action of human souls upon them; just as men +during their lives imagine that all their thoughts, +and the motions of the will which take place within +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>them, arise from themselves, although in fact they +oftentimes take their origin in the spiritual world. +Meantime every human soul, even in this life, has its +place and station in this spiritual world, and belongs +to a certain society which is always adapted to its +inner condition of truth and goodness,—that is, to +the condition of the understanding and the will. But +the places of souls in relation to each other have +nothing in common with the material world; and +therefore the soul of a man in India is often in +respect to spiritual situation next neighbour to the +soul of another man in Europe; as on the contrary +very often those, who dwell corporeally under the +same roof, are with respect to their spiritual relations +far enough asunder. If a man dies, his soul does not +on that account change its place; but simply feels +itself in that place which in regard to other spirits it +already held in this life. For the rest, although the +relation of spirits to each other is no true relation of +space, yet has it to them the appearance of space; +and their affinities or attractions for each other assume +the semblance of proximities, as their repulsions do +of distances; just as spirits themselves are not +actually extended, but yet present the appearance to +each other of a human figure. In this imaginary +space there is an undisturbed intercourse of spiritual +natures. Mr. Swedenborg converses with departed +souls whenever he chooses, and reads in their memory +(he means to say in their representative faculty) that +very condition in which they contemplate themselves; +and this he sees as clearly as with his bodily eyes. +Moreover the enormous distance of the rational inhabitants +of the world is to be accounted as nothing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>in relation to the spiritual universe; and to talk with +an inhabitant of Saturn is just as easy to him as to +speak with a departed human soul. All depends +upon the relation of their inner condition in reference +to their agreement in truth and goodness: but those +spirits, which have weak affinities for each other, can +readily come into intercourse through the inter-agency +of others. On this account it is not necessary that a +man should actually have dwelt on all the other +heavenly bodies in order to know them together with +all their wonders.</p> + +<p>One presiding doctrine in Swedenborg's ravings is +this: corporeal beings have no subsistence of their +own, but exist merely by and through the spiritual +world; although each body not by means of one +spirit alone, but of all taken together. Hence the +knowledge of material things has two meanings; an +external meaning referring to the inter-dependencies +of the matter upon itself, and an internal meaning in +so far as they denote the powers of the spiritual world +which are their causes. Thus the body of man has a +system of parts related to each other agreeably to +material laws: but, in so far as it is supported by +the spirit which lives, its limbs and their functions +have a symbolic value as expressions of those faculties +in the soul from which they derive their form, mode +of activity, and power of enduring. The same law +holds with regard to all other things in the visible +universe: they have (as has been said) one meaning +as things—which is trivial, and another as signs—which +is far weightier. Hence by the way arises the +source of those new interpretations of Scripture which +Swedenborg has introduced. For the inner sense,—that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>is, the symbolic relation of all things there +recorded to the spiritual world,—is, as he conceits, +the kernel of its value; all the rest being only its +shell. All spirits represent themselves to one another +under the appearance of extended forms; and the +influences of all these spiritual beings amongst one +another raise to them at the same time appearances +of other extended beings, and as it were of a material +world. Swedenborg therefore speaks of gardens—spacious +regions—mansions—galleries—and arcades +of spirits—as of things seen by himself in the clearest +light; and he assures us—that, having many times +conversed with all his friends after their death, he +had almost always found in those who had but lately +died—that they could scarcely convince themselves +that they had died, because they saw round about +them a world similar to the one they had quitted. +He found also that spiritual societies, which had the +same inner condition, had the same apparition of +space and of all things in space; and that the change +of their internal state was always accompanied by +the appearance of a change of place.</p> + +<p>I have already noticed that, according to our +author, the various powers and properties of the soul +stand in sympathy with the organs of the body +entrusted to its government. The outer man therefore +corresponds to the whole inner man; and hence, +whenever any remarkable spiritual influence from the +invisible world reaches one of these faculties of the +soul, he is sensible also harmonically of the apparent +presence of it in the corresponding members of his +outer man. To this head now he refers a vast variety +of sensations in his body which are uniformly connected +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>with spiritual intuition; but the absurdity of +them is so enormous that I shall not attempt to +adduce even a single instance.——By all this a preparation +is made for the strangest and most fantastic +of his notions in which all his ravings are blended. +As different powers and faculties constitute that +unity which is the soul or inner man, so also different +spirits (whose leading characteristics bear the same +relation to each other as the various faculties of a +spirit) constitute one society which exhibits the +appearance of one great man; and in this shadowy +image every spirit is seen in that place and in those +visible members which are agreeable to its proper +function in such a spiritual body. And all spiritual +societies taken together, and the entire universe of +all these invisible beings, appears again in the form +of a hugest and ultra-enormous man mountain: a +monstrous and gigantic fancy, which perhaps has +grown out of the school mode of representing a whole +quarter of the world under the image of a virgin +sitting. In this immeasurable man is an entire and +inner commerce of each spirit with all, and of all with +each; and, let the position of men in reference to +each other be what it may, they take quite another +position in this enormous man—a position which they +never change, and which is only in appearance a local +position in an immeasurable space, but in fact a +determinate kind of relation and influence.</p> + +<p>But I am weary of transcribing the delirious ravings +of a poor visionary, the craziest that has ever existed, +or of pursuing them to his descriptions of the state +after death. I am checked also by other considerations. +For, although in forming a medical +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>museum it is right to collect specimens not only of +natural but also of unnatural productions and +abortions, yet it is necessary to be cautious before +whom you show them: and amongst my readers +there may happen to be some in a crazy condition of +nerves; and it would give me pain to think that I +had been the occasion of any mischief to them. +Having warned them however from the beginning, I +am not responsible for anything that may happen; +and must desire that no person will lay at my door +the moon-calves which may chance to arise from any +teeming fancy impregnated by Mr. Swedenborg's +revelations.</p> + +<p>In conclusion I have to say that I have not interpolated +my author's dreams with any surreptitious +ones of my own; but have laid a faithful abstract +before the economic reader, who might not be well +pleased to pay seven pounds sterling for a body of +raving. I have indeed omitted many circumstantial +pictures of his intuitions, because they could only +have served to disturb the reader's slumber; and the +confused sense of his revelations I have now and then +clothed in a more current diction. But all the +important features of the sketch I have preserved in +their native integrity.—And thus I return with +some little shame from my foolish labours, from +which I shall draw this moral: That it is often a +very easy thing to act prudentially; but alas! too +often only after we have toiled to our prudence +through a forest of delusions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="225" id="SKETCH_OF_PROFESSOR_WILSON43"></a>SKETCH OF PROFESSOR WILSON.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor"><small><small>[43]</small></small></a></h2> + +<p class="center">[<i>In a Letter to an American Gentleman.</i>]</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>My dear L,—Among the <i>lions</i> whom you missed +by one accident or another on your late travels in +Europe, I observe that you recur to none with so much +regret as Professor Wilson; you dwell upon this one +disappointment as a personal misfortune; and perhaps +with reason; for, in the course of my life, I have met +with no man of equally varied accomplishments, or, +upon the whole, so well entitled to be ranked with +that order of men distinguished by brilliant versatility +and ambidexterity—of which order we find such +eminent models in Alcibiades, in Cæsar, in Crichton, +in that of Servan recorded by Sully, and in one or +two Italians. Pity that you had not earlier communicated +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>to me the exact route you were bound to, and +the particular succession of your engagements when +you visited the English Lakes; since, in that case, +my interest with Professor Wilson (supposing always +that you had declined to rely upon the better passport +of your own merits as a naturalist) would have +availed for a greater thing than at that time stood +between you and the introduction which you coveted. +On the day, or the night rather, when you were at +Bowness and Ambleside, I happen to know that +Professor Wilson's business was one which might +have been executed by proxy, though it could not be +delayed; and I also know that, apart from the +<i>general</i> courtesy of his nature, he would, at all times, +have an especial pleasure in waiving a claim of business +for one of science or letters, in the person of a +foreigner coming from a great distance; and that in +no other instance would he make such a sacrifice so +cordially as on behalf of an able naturalist. Perhaps +you already know from your countryman, Audubon, +that the Professor is himself a naturalist, and of +original merit; in fact, worth a score of such meagre +bookish naturalists as are formed in museums and by +second-hand acts of memory; having (like Audubon) +built much of his knowledge upon personal observation. +Hence he has two great advantages: one, that +his knowledge is accurate in a very unusual degree; +and another, that this knowledge, having grown up +under the inspiration of a real interest and an unaffected +love for its objects,—commencing, indeed, at +an age when no affectation in matters of that nature +could exist,—has settled upon those facts and circumstances +which have a true philosophical value: habits, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>predominant affections, the direction of instincts, and +the compensatory processes where these happen to be +thwarted,—on all such topics he is learned and full; +whilst, on the science of measurements and proportions, +applied to dorsal-fins and tail-feathers, and on +the exact arrangement of colours, &c.—that petty upholstery +of nature, on which books are so tedious and +elaborate,—not uncommonly he is negligent or forgetful. +What may have served in later years to quicken +and stimulate his knowledge in this field, and, at any +rate, greatly to extend it, is the conversation of his +youngest brother, Mr. James Wilson, who (as <i>you</i> +know much better than I) is a naturalist <i>majorum +gentium</i>. He, indeed, whilst a boy of not more than +sixteen or seventeen, was in correspondence (I believe) +with Montague the Ornithologist; and about the +same time had skill enough to pick holes in the coat +of Mr. Hüber, the German reformer of our then +erroneous science of bees.</p> + +<p>You see, therefore, that no possible introduction +could have stood you more in stead than your own +extensive knowledge of transatlantic ornithology. +Swammerdam passed his life, it is said, in a ditch. +<i>That</i> was a base, earthy solitude,—and a prison. But +you and Audubon have passed <i>your</i> lives in the +heavenly solitudes of forests and savannahs; and +such solitude as this is no prison, but infinite liberty. +The knowledge which you have gathered has been +answerable to the character of your school: and no +sort of knowledge could have secured you a better +welcome with Professor Wilson. Yet, had it been +otherwise, I repeat that my interest (as I flatter +myself) would have opened the gates of Elleray to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>you even at midnight; for I am so old a friend of +Mr. Wilson that I take a pride in supposing myself +the oldest; and, barring relations by blood, arrogate +the rights of dean in the chapter of his associates: +or at least I know of but one person whose title can +probably date earlier than mine. About this very +month when I am writing, I have known Professor +Wilson for a cycle of twenty years and more, which +is just half of his life—and also half of mine; for +we are almost <i>ad apicem</i> of the same age; Wilson +being born in May, and I in August, of the same +memorable year.</p> + +<p>My introduction to him—setting apart the introduc<i>ee</i> +himself—was memorable from one sole circumstance, +viz. the person of the introducer. <i>William +Wordsworth</i> it was, who in the vale of Grasmere, if it +can interest you to know the place, and in the latter +end of 1808, if you can be supposed to care about the +time, did me the favour of making me known to John +Wilson, or as I might say (upon the Scottish fashion +of designating men from their territorial pretensions) +to Elleray. I remember the whole scene as circumstantially +as if it belonged to but yesterday. In the +vale of Grasmere,—that peerless little vale which you +and Gray the poet and so many others have joined in +admiring as the very Eden of English beauty, peace, +and pastoral solitude,—you may possibly recall, even +from that flying glimpse you had of it, a modern +house called Allan Bank, standing under a low screen +of woody rocks which descend from the hill of Silver +How, on the western side of the lake. This house had +been then recently built by a worthy merchant of +Liverpool; but for some reason of no importance to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>you and me, not being immediately wanted for the +family of the owner, had been let for a term of three +years to Mr. Wordsworth. At the time I speak of, +both Mr. Coleridge and myself were on a visit to Mr. +Wordsworth; and one room on the ground floor, designed +for a breakfasting-room, which commands a +sublime view of the three mountains,—Fairfield, +Arthur's Chair, and Seat Sandal (the first of them +within about four hundred feet of the highest mountains +in Great Britain), was then occupied by Mr. +Coleridge as a study. On this particular day, the sun +having only just set, it naturally happened that Mr. +Coleridge—whose nightly vigils were long—had not +yet come down to breakfast: meantime, and until the +epoch of the Coleridgian breakfast should arrive, his +study was lawfully disposable to profaner uses. Here, +therefore, it was, that, opening the door hastily in +quest of a book, I found seated, and in earnest conversation, +two gentlemen—one of them my host, Mr. +Wordsworth, at that time about thirty-seven or +thirty-eight years old; the other was a younger man +by good sixteen or seventeen years, in a sailor's dress, +manifestly in robust health—<i>fervidus juventâ</i>, and +wearing upon his countenance a powerful expression +of ardour and animated intelligence, mixed with much +good nature. <i>'Mr. Wilson of Elleray'</i>—delivered, as +the formula of introduction, in the deep tones of Mr. +Wordsworth—at once banished the momentary surprise +I felt on finding an unknown stranger where I +had expected nobody, and substituted a surprise of +another kind: I now well understood who it was that +I saw; and there was no wonder in his being at +Allan Bank, Elleray standing within nine miles; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +(as usually happens in such cases) I felt a shock of +surprise on seeing a person so little corresponding to +the one I had half unconsciously prefigured.</p> + +<p>And here comes the place naturally, if anywhere, +for a description of Mr. Wilson's person and general +appearance in carriage, manner, and deportment; and +a word or two I shall certainly say on these points, +simply because I know that I <i>must</i>, else my American +friends will complain that I have left out that precise +section in my whole account which it is most impossible +for them to supply for themselves by any +acquaintance with his printed works. Yet suffer me, +before I comply with this demand, to enter one word +of private protest against the childish (nay, worse +than childish—the <i>missy</i>) spirit in which such demands +originate. From my very earliest years,—that is the +earliest years in which I had any sense of what +belongs to true dignity of mind,—I declare to you +that I have considered the interest which men, grown +men, take in the personal appearance of each other +as one of the meanest aspects under which human +curiosity commonly presents itself. Certainly I +have the same intellectual perception of differences +in such things that other men have; but I connect +none of the feelings, whether of admiration or +contempt, liking or disliking, which are obviously +connected with these perceptions by human beings +generally. Such words as 'commanding appearance,' +'prepossessing countenance,' applied to the figures or +faces of the males of the human species, have no +meaning in my ears: no man commands me, no man +prepossesses me, by anything in, on, or about his +carcass. What care I for any man's legs? I laugh +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>at his ridiculous presumption in conceiting that I shall +trouble myself to admire or to respect anything that +he can produce in his <i>physics</i>. What! shall I honour +Milo for the very qualities which he has in common +with the beastly ox he carries—his thews and sinews, +his ponderous strength and weight, and the quantity +of thumping that his hide will carry? I disclaim and +disdain any participation in such green-girl feelings. +I admit that the baby feelings I am here condemning +are found in connection with the highest intellects: +in particular, Mr. Coleridge for instance once said to +me, as a justifying reason for his dislike of a certain +celebrated Scotsman, with an air of infinite disgust,—'that +ugh!' (making a guttural sound as if of execration) +'he (viz. the said Scotsman) was so chicken-breasted.' +I have been assured by the way, that Mr. +Coleridge was mistaken in the mere matter of fact: +but supposing that he were not, what a reason for +a philosopher to build a disgust upon! And Mr. +Wordsworth, in or about the year 1820, in expressing +the extremity of his <i>Nil admirari</i> spirit, declared that +he would not go ten yards out of his road to see the +finest specimen of man (intellectually speaking) that +Europe had to show: and so far indeed I do not +quarrel with his opinion; but Mr. Wordsworth went +on to say that this indifference did <i>not</i> extend itself +to man considered physically; and that he would still +exert himself to a small extent (suppose a mile or so) +for the sake of seeing Belzoni. <i>That</i> was the case he +instanced: and, as I understood him, not by way of +a general illustration for his meaning, but that he +really felt an exclusive interest in this particular +man's <i>physics</i>. Now Belzoni was certainly a good +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>tumbler, as I have heard; and hopped well upon one +leg, when surmounted and crested by a pyramid of +men and boys; and jumped capitally through a hoop; +and did all sorts of tricks in all sorts of styles, not at +all worse than any monkey, bear, or learned pig, that +ever exhibited in Great Britain. And I would myself +have given a shilling to have seen him fight with +that cursed Turk that assaulted him in the streets of +Cairo; and would have given him a crown for catching +the circumcised dog by the throat and effectually +taking the conceit out of his Mahometan carcass: but +then <i>that</i> would have been for the spectacle of the +passions, which, in such a case, would have been let +loose: as to the mere animal Belzoni,—who after all +was not to be compared to Topham the Warwickshire +man, that drew back by main force a cart, and its +driver, and a strong horse,—as to the mere animal +Belzoni, I say, and his bull neck, I would have much +preferred to see a real bull or the Darlington ox. The +sum of the matter is this: all men, even those who +are most manly in their style of thinking and feeling, +in many things retain the childishness of their +childish years: no man thoroughly weeds himself of +all. And this particular mode of childishness is one +of the commonest, into which they fall the more +readily from the force of sympathy, and because they +apprehend no reason for directing any vigilance +against it. But I contend that reasonably no feelings +of deep interest are justifiable as applied to any point +of external form or feature in human beings, unless +under two reservations: first, that they shall have +reference to women; because women, being lawfully +the objects of passions and tender affections, which can +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>have no existence as applied to men, are objects also, +rationally and consistently, of all other secondary +feelings (such as those derived from their personal +appearance) which have any tendency to promote and +support the first. Whereas between men the highest +mode of intercourse is merely intellectual, which is +not of a nature to receive support or strength from +any feelings of pleasure or disgust connected with the +accidents of external appearance: but exactly in the +degree in which these have any influence at all they +must warp and disturb by improper biases; and the +single case of exception, where such feelings can be +honourable and laudable amongst the males of the +human species, is where they regard such deformities +as are the known products and expressions of criminal +or degrading propensities. All beyond this, I care +not by whom countenanced, is infirmity of mind, and +would be baseness if it were not excused by imbecility.</p> + +<p>Excuse this digression, for which I have a double +reason: chiefly I was anxious to put on record my +own opinions, and my contempt for men generally in +this particular; and here I seemed to have a conspicuous +situation for that purpose. Secondly, apart +from this purpose of offence, I was at any rate +anxious, merely on a defensive principle, to screen +myself from the obvious misinterpretation incident +to the case: saying anything minute or in detail upon +a man's person, I should necessarily be supposed to +do so under the ordinary blind feelings of interest in +that subject which govern most people; feelings +which I disdain. Now, having said all this, and +made my formal protest, <i>liberavi animam meam</i>; and +I revert to my subject, and shall say that word or +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>two which I was obliged to promise you on Professor +Wilson's personal appearance.</p> + +<p>Figure to yourself, then, a tall man, about six feet +high, within half an inch or so, built with tolerable +appearance of strength; but at the date of my +description (that is, in the very spring-tide and +blossom of youth) wearing, for the predominant +character of his person, lightness and agility, or (in +our Westmoreland phrase), <i>lishness</i>: he seemed framed +with an express view to gymnastic exercises of every +sort—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Αλμα, ποδωκειην, δισκον, ακοντα, παλην"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the first of these exercises, indeed, and possibly +(but of that I am not equally certain) in the second, +I afterwards came to know that he was absolutely +unrivalled: and the best leapers at that time in the +ring, Richmond the Black and others, on getting 'a +taste of his quality,' under circumstances of considerable +disadvantage [viz. after a walk from Oxford +to Moulsey Hurst, which I believe is fifty miles], +declined to undertake him. For this exercise he had +two remarkable advantages: it is recorded of Sheffield, +Duke of Buckingham, that, though otherwise a +handsome man, he offended the connoisseurs in +statuesque proportions by one eminent defect—perhaps +the most obtrusive to which the human +figure is liable—viz. a body of length disproportioned +to his legs. In Mr. Wilson the proportions were +fortunately reversed: a short trunk, and remarkably +long legs, gave him one half of his advantages in the +noble science of leaping; the other half was afterwards +pointed out to me by an accurate critic in these +matters as lying in the particular conformation of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>his foot, the instep of which is arched, and the back +of the heel strengthened in so remarkable a way that +it would be worth paying a penny or so for a sight of +them. It is really laughable to think of the coxcombry +which eminent men of letters have displayed +in connection with their powers—real or fancied—in +this art. Cardinal du Perron vapoured to the end of +his life upon some remarkable leap that he either <i>had</i> +accomplished, or conceived himself to have accomplished +(not, I presume, in red stockings). Every +tenth page of the <i>Perroniana</i> rings with the echo of +this stupendous leap—the length of which, if I remember +rightly, is as obviously fabulous as any feat +of Don Belianis of Greece. Des Cartes also had a +lurking conceit that, in some unknown place, he had +perpetrated a leap that ought to immortalise him; +and in one of his letters he repeats and accredits a +story of some obscure person's leap, which</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'At one light bound high overleaped all bound'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>of reasonable credulity. Many other eminent leapers +might be cited, Pagan and Christian: but the Cardinal, +by his own account, appears to have been the flower +of Popish leapers; and, with all deference to his +Eminence, upon a better assurance than that, Professor +Wilson may be rated, at the time I speak of, +as the flower of all Protestant leapers. Not having +the Cardinal's foible of connecting any vanity with +this little accomplishment, knowing exactly what +could and what could <i>not</i> be effected in this department +of gymnastics, and speaking with the utmost +simplicity and candour of his failures and his successes +alike, he might always be relied upon, and his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>statements were constantly in harmony with any collateral +testimony that chance happened to turn up.</p> + +<p>Viewed, therefore, by an eye learned in gymnastic +proportions, Mr. Wilson presented a somewhat striking +figure: and by some people he was pronounced +with emphasis a fine looking young man; but others, +who less understood, or less valued these advantages, +spoke of him as nothing extraordinary. Still greater +division of voices I have heard on his pretensions to +be thought handsome. In my opinion, and most +certainly in his own, these pretensions were but +slender. His complexion was too florid; hair of a +hue quite unsuited to that complexion; eyes not good, +having no apparent depth, but seeming mere surfaces; +and in fine, no one feature that could be called fine, +except the lower region of his face, mouth, chin, and +the parts adjacent, which were then (and perhaps are +now) truly elegant and Ciceronian. Ask in one of +your public libraries for that little 4to edition of the +<i>Rhetorical Works of Cicero</i>, edited by Schütz (the same +who edited <i>Æschylus</i>), and you will there see (as a +frontispiece to the 1st vol.) a reduced whole length of +Cicero from the antique; which in the mouth and +chin, and indeed generally, if I do not greatly forget, +will give you a lively representation of the contour +and expression of Professor Wilson's face. Taken as +a whole, though not handsome (as I have already +said), when viewed in a quiescent state, the head and +countenance are massy, dignified, and expressive of +tranquil sagacity.</p> + +<p>Thus far of Professor Wilson in his outward man, +whom (to gratify you and yours, and upon the consideration +that my letter is to cross the Atlantic), I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>have described with an effort and a circumstantiation +that are truly terrific to look back upon. And now, +returning to the course of my narrative, such in +personal appearance was the young man upon whom +my eyes suddenly rested, for the first time, upwards +of twenty years ago, in the study of S. T. Coleridge—looking, +as I said before, light as a Mercury to eyes +familiar with the British build; but, with reference +to the lengthy model of you Yankees, who spindle up +so tall and narrow, already rather bulky and columnar. +Note, however, that of all this array of personal +features, as I have here described them, I then saw +nothing at all, my attention being altogether occupied +with Mr. Wilson's conversation and demeanour, which +were in the highest degree agreeable: the points +which chiefly struck me being the humility and +gravity with which he spoke of himself, his large +expansion of heart, and a certain air of noble frankness +which overspread everything he said; he seemed +to have an intense enjoyment of life; indeed, being +young, rich, healthy, and full of intellectual activity, +it could not be very wonderful that he should feel +happy and pleased with himself and others; but it +was somewhat unusual to find that so rare an assemblage +of endowments had communicated no tinge of +arrogance to his manner, or at all disturbed the +general temperance of his mind.</p> + +<p>Turn we now suddenly, and without preparation,—simply +by way of illustrating the versatile humour of +the man,—from this grave and (as in reality it was) +philosophic scene, to another first introduction, under +most different circumstances, to the same Mr. Wilson. +Represent to yourself the earliest dawn of a fine +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>summer morning, time about half-past two o'clock. +A young man, anxious for an introduction to Mr. +Wilson, and as yet pretty nearly a stranger to the +country, has taken up his abode in Grasmere, and +has strolled out at this early hour to that rocky and +moorish common (called the White Moss) which overhangs +the Vale of Rydal, dividing it from Grasmere. +Looking southwards in the direction of Rydal, suddenly +he becomes aware of a huge beast advancing at +a long trot with the heavy and thundering tread of a +hippopotamus along the public road. The creature is +soon arrived within half a mile of his station; and by +the gray light of morning is at length made out to be +a bull apparently flying from some unseen enemy in +his rear. As yet, however, all is mystery; but suddenly +three horsemen double a turn in the road, and +come flying into sight with the speed of a hurricane, +manifestly in pursuit of the fugitive bull; the bull +labours to navigate his huge bulk to the moor, which +he reaches, and then pauses, panting and blowing out +clouds of smoke from his nostrils, to look back from +his station amongst rocks and slippery crags upon his +hunters. If he had conceited that the rockiness of +the ground had secured his repose, the foolish bull is +soon undeceived; the horsemen, scarcely relaxing +their speed, charge up the hill, and speedily gaining +the rear of the bull, drive him at a gallop over the +worst part of that impracticable ground down into +the level ground below. At this point of time the +stranger perceives by the increasing light of the +morning that the hunters are armed with immense +spears fourteen feet long. With these the bull is +soon dislodged, and scouring down to the plain below, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>he and the hunters at his tail take to the common at +the head of the lake, and all, in the madness of the +chase, are soon half engulfed in the swamps of the +morass. After plunging together for ten or fifteen +minutes, all suddenly regain the <i>terra firma</i>, and the +bull again makes for the rocks. Up to this moment +there had been the silence of ghosts; and the stranger +had doubted whether the spectacle were not a pageant +of aërial spectres, ghostly huntsmen; ghostly lances, +and a ghostly bull. But just at this crisis—a voice +(it was the voice of Mr. Wilson) shouted aloud, 'Turn +the villain; turn that villain; or he will take to +Cumberland.' The young stranger did the service +required of him; the villain was turned and fled +southwards; the hunters, lance in rest, rushed after +him; all bowed their thanks as they fled past him; +the fleet cavalcade again took the high road; they +doubled the cape which shut them out of sight; and +in a moment all had disappeared and left the quiet +valley to its original silence, whilst the young stranger +and two grave Westmoreland statesmen (who by this +time had come into sight upon some accident or other) +stood wondering in silence, and saying to themselves, +perhaps,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The earth hath bubbles as the water hath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these are of them!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But they were no bubbles; the bull was a substantial +bull; and took no harm at all from being +turned out occasionally at midnight for a chase of +fifteen or eighteen miles. The bull, no doubt, used +to wonder at this nightly visitation; and the owner +of the bull must sometimes have pondered a little on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>the draggled state in which the swamps would now +and then leave his beast; but no other harm came of +it. And so it happened, and in the very hurly burly +of such an unheard-of chase, that my friend was +fortunate enough, by a little service, to recommend +himself to the notice of Mr. Wilson; and so passed +the scene of his <i>first introduction</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>In reading the anecdote of the bull hunt, you must +bear in mind the period of Mr. Wilson's life to which +it belongs, else I should here be unintentionally +adding one more to the thousand misrepresentations +of his character, which are already extant in different +repositories of scandal: most of which I presume, +unless in the rarer cases where they have been the +pure creations of malice, owe their origin to a little +exaggeration, and a great deal of confusion in dates. +Levities and extravagances, which find a ready excuse +at twenty, ten or fifteen years later are fatal to a +man's character for good sense. In such a case, +therefore, to be careless or inaccurate in dates, is a +moral dishonesty. Understand then that the bull-hunting +scenes belong to the time which immediately +succeeded my first knowledge of Mr. Wilson. This +particular frolic happened to fall within the earliest +period of my own personal acquaintance with him. +Else, and with this one exception, the era of his +wildest (and according to the common estimate, of +his insane) extravagances was already past. All those +stories, therefore, which you question me about with +so much curiosity, of his having joined a company of +strolling players, and himself taken the leading parts +both in Tragedy and Comedy—of his having assumed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>the garb of a Gipsy, and settled for some time in a +Gipsy encampment, out of admiration for a young +Egyptian beauty; with fifty others of the same class, +belong undoubtedly (as many of them as are not +wholly fabulous), to the four years immediately preceding +the time at which my personal knowledge of +Mr. Wilson commenced.</p> + +<p>From the latter end of 1803 to the spring of 1808, +Mr. Wilson had studied at the University of Oxford; +and it was within that period that most of his <i>escapades</i> +were crowded. He had previously studied as a +mere boy, according to the Scotch fashion, at the +University of Glasgow, chiefly under the tuition of +the late Mr. Jardine (the Professor, I believe, of +Logic), and Dr. or Mr. Young (the Professor of +Greek). At both Universities he had greatly distinguished +himself; but at Oxford, where the distribution +of prizes and honours of every kind is to the last +degree parsimonious and select, naturally it follows +that such academical distinctions are really <i>significant</i> +distinctions, and proclaim an unequivocal merit in +him who has carried them off from a crowd of 1600 +or 2000 co-rivals, to whom the contest was open; +whereas, in the Scotch Universities, as I am told by +Scotchmen, the multiplication of prizes and medals, +and the almost indiscriminate profusion with which +they are showered abroad, neutralises their whole +effect and value. At least this was the case in Mr. +Wilson's time; but lately some conspicuous changes +have been introduced by a Royal Commission (not +yet, I believe, dissolved) into one at least of the +Scotch Universities, which have greatly improved it +in this respect, by bringing it much nearer to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +English model. When Mr. Wilson gained a prize of +fifty guineas for fifty lines of English verse, without +further inquiry it becomes evident, from the mere +rarity of the distinction which, for a university <i>now</i> +nearly of five thousand members, occurs but once a year, +and from the great over-proportion of that peculiar +class (the Undergraduates) to whom the contest is +open,—that such a victory was an indisputable criterion +of very conspicuous merit. In fact, never in any +place did Mr. Wilson play off his Proteus variety of +character and talent with so much brilliant effect +as at Oxford. In this great University, the most +ancient, and by many degrees the most magnificent +in the world, he found a stage for display, perfectly congenial +with the native elevation of his own character. +Perhaps you are not fully aware of the characteristic +differences which separate our two English Universities +of Oxford and Cambridge from those of Scotland +and the Continent: for I have always observed +that the best informed foreigners, even after a week's +personal acquaintance with the Oxford system, still +adhere to the inveterate preconceptions which they +had brought with them from the Continent. For +instance, they continue obstinately to speak of the +<i>Professors</i> as the persons to whom the students are +indebted for tuition; whereas the majority of these +hold their offices as the most absolute sinecures, and +the task of tuition devolves upon the tutors appointed +in each particular college. These tutors are called +public tutors; meaning that they do not confine their +instructions to any one individual; but distribute +them amongst all the Undergraduates of the college +to which they belong; and, in addition to these,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +<i>private</i> tutors are allowed to any student who chooses +to increase his expenditure in that particular. But +the main distinction, which applies to our immediate +subject, is the more than regal provision for the +lodging and accommodation of the students by the +system of <i>Colleges</i>. Of these there are in Oxford, +neglecting the technical subdivision of <i>Halls</i>, five-and-twenty; +and the main use of all, both colleges and +halls, is, not as in Scotland and on the Continent, to +lodge the head of the University with suitable dignity, +and to provide rooms for the library and public business +of the University. These purposes are met by a +separate provision, distinct from the colleges; and the +colleges are applied as follows: 1st, and mainly to +the reception of the Fellows, and of the Undergraduate +Students; 2ndly, to the accommodation of +the head (known in different colleges by the several +designations of provost, principal, dean, rector, warden, +&c.); 3rdly to the accommodation of the private library +attached to that college, and to the chapel, which is +used at least twice every day for public prayers; +4thly, to the Hall, and the whole establishment of +kitchen, wine vaults, buttery, &c., &c., which may be +supposed necessary for the liberal accommodation, at +the public meals of dinner [and in some colleges +supper] of gentlemen and visitors from the country, +or from the Continent; varying (we will suppose) +from 25 to 500 heads. Everywhere else the great +mass of the students are lodged in obscure nooks +and corners, which may or may not be respectable, +but are at all events withdrawn from the <i>surveillance</i> +of the University. I shall state both the ground and +the effect (or tendency rather) of this difference. Out +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>of England, universities are not meant exclusively +for professional men; the sons of great landholders, +and a large proportion of the sons of noblemen, either +go through the same academic course as others—or a +shorter course adapted to their particular circumstances. +In England, again, the church is supplied +from the rank of gentry—not exclusively, it is true, +but in a much larger proportion than anywhere else, +except in Ireland. The corresponding ranks in Scotland, +from their old connection with France, have +adopted (I believe) much more of the Continental plan +for disposing of their sons at this period. At any rate, +it will not be contended by any man, that Scotland +throws anything like the same proportion with England, +of her gentry and her peerage into her universities. +Hence, a higher standard of manners and +of habits presides at Oxford and Cambridge; and, consequently, +a demand for much higher accommodations +would even <i>otherwise</i> have arisen, had not such a +demand already been supplied by the munificence of +our English princes and peers, both male and female; +and, in one instance at least, of a <i>Scottish</i> Prince +(Baliol). The extent of these vast Caravanseras +enables the governors of the various colleges to +furnish every student with a set of two rooms at +the least, often with a <i>suite</i> of three—[I, who lived at +Oxford on no more than my school allowance, had +that number]—or in many cases with far more. In +the superior colleges, indeed (superior, I mean, as to +their purse and landed endowments), all these accommodations +keep pace with the refinements of the age; +and thus a connection is maintained between the +University and the landed <i>Noblesse</i>—upper and lower—of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +England, which must be reciprocally beneficial, +and which, under other circumstances, could scarcely +have taken place.</p> + +<p>Of these advantages, you may be sure, that Mr. +Wilson availed himself to the utmost extent. Instead +of going to <i>Baliol</i> College, he entered himself at +<i>Magdalen</i>, in the class of what are called, 'Gentlemen +Commoners.' All of us (you know) in Oxford +and Cambridge wear an Academic dress, which tells +at once our Academic rank with all its modifications. +And the term '<i>Gentlemen Commoner</i>' implies that he +has more splendid costumes, and more in number; +that he is expected to spend a good deal more money, +that he enjoys a few trifling immunities; and that he +has, in particular instances, something like a King's +right of pre-emption, as in the choice of rooms, &c.</p> + +<p>Once launched in this orbit, Mr. Wilson continued +to blaze away for the four successive years, 1804, +1805, 1806, 1807, I believe without any intermission. +Possibly I myself was the one sole gownsman who +had not then found my attention fixed by his most +heterogeneous reputation. In a similar case, Cicero +tells a man that ignorance so unaccountable of another +man's pretensions argued himself to be a <i>homo +ignorabilis</i>; or, in the language of the Miltonic Satan, +'Not to know me, argues thyself unknown.' And +<i>that</i> is true; a <i>homo ignorabilis</i> most certainly I was. +And even with that admission it is still difficult to +account for the extent and the duration of my ignorance. +The fact is, that the case well expresses <i>both</i> +our positions; that <i>he</i> should be so conspicuous as to +challenge knowledge from the most sequestered of +anchorites expresses <i>his</i> life; that I should have right +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>to absolute ignorance of him who was familiar as daylight +to all the rest of Oxford—expresses <i>mine</i>. Never +indeed before, to judge from what I have since heard +upon inquiry, did a man, by variety of talents and +variety of humours, contrive to place himself as the +connecting link between orders of men so essentially +repulsive of each other—as Mr. Wilson in this instance.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Omnis Aristippum decuit color et status, et res.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>From the learned president of his college, Dr. +Routh, the editor of parts of <i>Plato</i>, and of some +<i>Theological Selections</i>, with whom Wilson enjoyed an +unlimited favour—from this learned Academic Doctor, +and many others of the same class, Wilson had an +infinite gamut of friends and associates, running +through every key; and the diapason closing full in +groom, cobbler, stable-boy, barber's apprentice, with +every shade and hue of blackguard and ruffian. In +particular, amongst this latter kind of worshipful +society, there was no man who had any talents—real +or fancied—for thumping or being thumped, but had +experienced some <i>preeing</i> of his merits from Mr. +Wilson. All other pretensions in the gymnastic arts +he took a pride in humbling or in honouring; but +chiefly his examinations fell upon pugilism; and not +a man, who could either 'give' or 'take,' but boasted +to have punished, or to have been punished by, +<i>Wilson of Mallens</i>.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></p> + +<hr /> + +<p>A little before the time at which my acquaintance +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>with Mr. Wilson commenced, he had purchased a +beautiful estate on the lake of Windermere, which +bore the ancient name of <i>Elleray</i>—a name which, +with his customary good taste, Mr. Wilson has never +disturbed. With the usual latitude of language in +such cases, I say <i>on</i> Windermere; but in fact this +charming estate lies far above the lake; and one of +the most interesting of its domestic features is the +foreground of the rich landscape which connects, by +the most gentle scale of declivities, this almost aërial +altitude [as, for <i>habitable</i> ground, it really is] with the +sylvan margin of the deep water which rolls a mile +and a half below. When I say a mile and a half, +you will understand me to compute the descent according +to the undulations of the ground; because else +the perpendicular elevation above the level of the +lake cannot be above one half of that extent. Seated +on such an eminence, but yet surrounded by foregrounds +of such quiet beauty, and settling downwards +towards the lake by such tranquil steps as to +take away every feeling of precipitous or dangerous +elevation, Elleray possesses a double character of +beauty, rarely found in connection; and yet each, +by singular good fortune, in this case absolute and +unrivalled in its kind. Within a bow-shot of each +other may be found stations of the deepest seclusion, +fenced in by verdurous walls of insuperable forest +heights, and presenting a limited scene of beauty—deep, +solemn, noiseless, severely sequestered—and +other stations of a magnificence so gorgeous as few +estates in this island can boast, and of those few perhaps +none in such close connection with a dwelling-house. +Stepping out from the very windows of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>drawing-room, you find yourself on a terrace which +gives you the feeling of a 'specular height,' such as +you might expect on Ararat, or might appropriately +conceive on 'Athos seen from Samothrace.' The whole +course of a noble lake, about eleven miles long, lies +subject to your view, with many of its islands, and +its two opposite shores so different in character—the +one stern, precipitous, and gloomy; the other (and +luckily the hither one) by the mere bounty of nature +and of accident—by the happy disposition of the +ground originally, and by the fortunate equilibrium +between the sylvan tracts, meandering irregularly +through the whole district, and the proportion left to +verdant fields and meadows,—wearing the character +of the richest park scenery; except indeed that this +character is here and there a little modified by a quiet +hedge-row or the stealing smoke which betrays the +embowered cottage of a labourer. But the sublime, +peculiar, and not-to-be-forgotten feature of the scene is +the great system of mountains which unite about five +miles off at the head of the lake to lock in and inclose +this noble landscape. The several ranges of mountains +which stand at various distances within six or seven +miles of the little town of Ambleside, all separately +various in their forms and all eminently picturesque, +when seen from Elleray appear to blend and group +as parts of one connected whole; and when their +usual drapery of clouds happens to take a fortunate +arrangement, and the sunlights are properly broken +and thrown from the most suitable quarter of the +heavens,—I cannot recollect any spectacle in England +or Wales, of the many hundreds I have seen, bearing +a local, if not a national reputation for magnificence of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>prospect, which so much dilates the heart with a sense +of power and aërial sublimity as this terrace view +from Elleray. It is possible that I may have stood +on other mountain terraces commanding as ample a +view and as happily combined; but the difference of +effect must always be immense between a spectacle +to which you ascend by half a day's labour, and that +upon which you are launched in a second of time +from the breakfast table. It is of great importance, +for the enjoyment of any natural scene, to be liberated +from the necessity of viewing it under circumstances +of haste and anxiety, to have it in one's power +to surrender oneself passively and tranquilly to the +influences of the objects as they gradually reveal +themselves, and to be under no summons to crowd +one's whole visual energy and task of examination +within a single quarter of an hour. Having seen +Elleray at all times under these favourable circumstances, +it is certainly not impossible that I may +unconsciously have overrated in some degree its pretensions +in comparison with some rival scenes. I +may have committed the common error of attributing +to the <i>objects</i> the whole sum of an impression which +in part belonged to the <i>subjective</i> advantages of the +contemplator and the benefits of his station. But, +making every allowance in this direction, I am still +of opinion that Elleray has, in connection with the +merits common to all scenes of its class, others +peculiar to itself—and such as are indispensable conditions +for the full effect of all the rest. In particular, +I would instance this: To bring any scene +upon a level of competition with Elleray as to range +and majesty of prospect, it is absolutely essential that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>it should occupy an equal elevation, or one not conspicuously +inferior. Now, it is seldom indeed that +eminences so commanding are not, by that very +circumstance, unfitted to the picturesque aspects of +things: in fact I remember no tract of ground so +elevated as Elleray from which the lowest level of +the adjacent country does not take a petty, dotted, +and map-like appearance. But this effect, which is +so heavy a price for the sublimities of the upper +regions, at Elleray is entirely intercepted by the +exquisite gradations of descent by which the contiguous +grounds begin their fall to the level of the +lake: the moment that this fall in any quarter +becomes accelerated and precipitous, it is concealed +by the brows of this beautiful hanging foreground; +and so happily is this remedy applied, that in every +instance where the lowest grounds would, if seen at +all, from their immediate proximity, be seen by the +spectator looking down perpendicularly as into a well, +there they are uniformly hidden; and these lowest +levels first emerge to view at a remote distance—where, +being necessarily viewed obliquely, they suffer +no peculiar disadvantage by being viewed from an +eminence. In short, to sum up the whole in one +word, the splendours of Elleray, which could not have +been had but at an unusual elevation, are by a rare +bounty of nature obtained without one of those sacrifices +for the learned eye which are usually entailed +upon that one single advantage of unusual elevation.</p> + +<p>The beautiful estate, which I have thus described +to you, was ornamented by no suitable dwelling-house +at the time when it was purchased by Mr. Wilson: +there was indeed a rustic cottage, most picturesquely +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>situated, which, with the addition of a drawing-room +thrown out at one end, was made for the present +(and, as it turned out, for many a year to come) +capable of meeting the hospitable system of life +adopted by its owner. But, with a view to more +ample and luxurious accommodations, even at that +early period of his possession (1808), Mr. Wilson +began to build a mansion of larger and more elegant +proportions. The shell, and perhaps the greater part +of the internal work, was soon finished; but for some +reason, which I never remember to have inquired +into, was not rendered thoroughly habitable (and +consequently not inhabited) till the year 1825. I +think it worth while to mention this house particularly, +because it has always appeared to me a silent +commentary on its master's state of mind, and an +exemplification of his character both as it was and +as it appeared. At first sight there was an air of +adventurousness, or even of extravagance about the +plan and situation of the building; and yet upon a +considerate examination (and latterly upon a practical +trial) of it, I cannot see that within the same dimensions +it would have been possible to have contrived +a more judicious or commodious house. Thus, for +instance, the house is planted upon the boldest and +most exposed point of ground that can be found on +the whole estate, consequently upon that which might +have presumed (and I believe was really reputed) to +be the very stormiest: yet, whether from counteracting +screens of wood that have since been reared in +fortunate situations, or from what other cause I know +not, but undoubtedly at this day no practical inconvenience +is suffered; though it is true, I believe, that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>in the earlier years of its history, the house bore +witness occasionally, by dismal wrecks of roof and +windows, to the strength and fury of the wind on +one particular quarter. Again, in the internal arrangements +one room was constructed of such ample proportions, +with a view to dancing, that the length +(as I remember) was about seventy feet; the other +dimensions I have forgotten. Now, in this instance +most people saw an evidence of nothing but youthful +extravagance, and a most disproportionate attention +directed to one single purpose, which upon that scale +could not probably be of very frequent occurrence in +<i>any</i> family. This by the way was at any rate a +sensible extravagance in my judgment; for our +English mode of building tends violently to the opposite +and most unwholesome extravagance of giving +to the very principal room of a house the beggarly +proportions of closets. However, the sequel showed +that in providing for one end, Mr. Wilson had not +lost sight of others: for the seventy-feet room was so +divided by strong folding-doors, or temporary partitions, +as in its customary state to exhibit three +rooms of ordinary proportions, and unfolded its full +extent only by special and extraordinary mechanism. +Other instances I might give in which the plan seemed +to be extravagant or inconsiderate, and yet really +turned out to have been calculated with the coolest +judgment and the nicest foresight of domestic needs. +It is sufficient to say that I do not know a house +apparently more commodiously arranged than this, +which was planned and built with utmost precipitation, +and in the very heyday of a most tempestuous +youth. In one thing only, upon a retrospect at this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>day of the whole case, there may appear to have been +some imprudence, viz. that timber being then at a +most unprecedented high price, it is probable that +the building cost seven or eight hundred pounds more +than it would have done a few years later. Allowing +for this one oversight, the principal house on the +Elleray estate, which at the time was looked upon as +an evidence of Mr. Wilson's flightiness of mind, +remains at this day a lasting monument of his good +sense and judgment.</p> + +<p>Whilst I justify him, however, on this head, I am +obliged to admit that on another field, at that very +time, Mr. Wilson was displaying the most reckless +profusion. A sailing club had been established on +Windermere, by whom I never heard; very probably +by Mr. Wilson himself; at all events, he was the +leader and the soul of the confederation; and he +applied annually nothing less than a little fortune to +the maintenance of the many expenses which arose +out of it. Amongst the members of the club there +were more than one who had far larger fortunes than +Mr. Wilson could ever have possessed; but he would +permit no one to outshine him on this arena. The +number of his boats was so great as to compose a +little fleet; and some of them, of unusually large +dimensions for this lake, had been built at an enormous +expense by regular builders brought over expressly +from the port of Whitehaven (distant from Elleray +about forty-five miles), and kept during the whole +progress of their labour at a most expensive Lakers' +hotel. One of these boats in particular, a ten-oared +barge, which you will find specially introduced by +name in Professor Wilson's tale of <i>The Foresters</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +(<i>vide</i> p. 215), was generally believed at the time to +have cost him at the least five hundred pounds. And +as the number of sailors which it required to man +these boats was necessarily very great at particular +seasons, and as the majority of these sailors lived, +during the period of their services, with little or no +restraint upon their expenses at the most costly inn +in the neighbourhood,—it may be supposed very +readily that about this time Mr. Wilson's lavish +expenditure, added to the demands of architects and +builders, and the recent purchase of Elleray, must +have seriously injured his patrimonial property,—though +generally believed to have been originally considerably +more than thirty thousand (many asserted +forty thousand) pounds. In fact, he had never less +than three establishments going on concurrently for +some years; one at the town or village of Bowness +(the little port of the lake of Windermere), for his +boatmen; one at the Ambleside Hotel, about five +miles distant, for himself; and a third at Elleray, for +his servants, and the occasional resort of himself and +his friends. It is the opinion of some people that +about this time, and during the succeeding two years, +Mr. Wilson dissipated the main bulk of his patrimony +in profuse expenditure. But more considerate people +see no ground for that opinion: his expenses, though +great, were never adequate to the dilapidation of so +large an estate as he was reputed to have inherited: +and the prevailing opinion is that some great loss of +£20,000 at a blow, by the failure of some trustee or +other, was the true cause of that diminution in his +property which, within a year or two from this time, +he is generally supposed to have suffered. However, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>as Mr. Wilson himself has always maintained an +obstinate silence on the subject, and as the mere fact +of the loss (however probable) is not more accurately +known to me than its extent, or its particular mode, +or its cause,—I shall not allow myself to make any +conjectural speculations on the subject. It can be +interesting to you and me only from one of its consequences, +viz. its leading him afterwards to seek a +professorship: for most certain it is, that, if the +splendour of Mr. Wilson's youthful condition as to +pecuniary matters had not been in some remarkable +degree overcast, and suffered some signal eclipse, he +would never have surrendered any part of that perfect +liberty which was so dear to him, for all the honours +and rewards that could have been offered by the +foremost universities of Europe.</p> + +<p>You will have heard, no doubt, from some of those +with whom you conversed about Professor Wilson +when you were in Europe, or you may have read it +in Peter's Letters, that in very early life (probably +about the age of eighteen) he had formed a scheme +for penetrating into central Africa, visiting the city +of Tombuctoo, and solving (if it were possible) the +great outstanding problem of the course of the Niger. +To this scheme he was attracted probably not so much +by any particular interest in the improvement of +geographical knowledge, as by the youthful spirit of +romantic adventure, and a very uncommon craving +for whatever was grand—indefinite—and gigantic in +conception, supposing that it required at the same +time great physical powers in the execution. There +cannot be a doubt for us at this day, who look back +upon the melancholy list of victims in this perilous +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>field of discovery which has been furnished by the +two or three and twenty years elapsed since Mr. +Wilson's plan was in agitation, that in that enterprise—had +he ever irretrievably embarked himself upon +it—he would infallibly have perished; for, though +reasonably strong, he was not strong upon that +heroic scale which an expedition so Titanic demands; +and what was perhaps still more important, if strong +enough—he was not <i>hardy</i> enough, as a gentleman +rarely is, more especially where he has literary habits; +because the exposure to open air, which is the indispensable +condition of hardiness, is at any rate interrupted—even +if it were not counteracted—by the +luxurious habits and the relaxing atmosphere of the +library and the drawing-room. Moreover, Mr. Wilson's +constitution was irritable and disposed to fever; his +temperament was too much that of a man of genius +not to have furnished a mine of inflammable materials +for any tropical climate; his prudence, as regarded +his health, was not remarkable; and if to all these +internal and personal grounds of danger you add the +incalculable hazards of the road itself, every friend of +Mr. Wilson's must have rejoiced on hearing that in +1808, when I first met him, this Tim-(or Tom-) buctoo +scheme was already laid aside.</p> + +<p>Yet, as the stimulus of danger, in one shape or +other, was at that time of life perhaps essential to his +comfort, he soon substituted another scheme, which +at this day might be accomplished with ease and +safety enough, but in the year 1809 (under the +rancorous system of Bonaparte) was full of hazard. +In this scheme he was so good as to associate myself +as one of his travelling companions, together with an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>earlier friend of his own—an Englishman, of a philosophical +turn of mind, with whom he had been a fellow-student +at Glasgow; and we were certainly all three +of an age and character to have enjoyed the expedition +in the very highest degree, had the events of the war +allowed us to realise our plan. The plan was as +follows: from Falmouth, by one of the regular +packets, we were to have sailed to the Tagus; and, +landing wherever accident should allow us, to purchase +mules—hire Spanish servants—and travel extensively +in Spain and Portugal for eight or nine +months; thence, by such of the islands in the Mediterranean +as particularly interested us, we were +gradually to have passed into Greece, and thence to +Constantinople. Finally, we were to have visited +the Troad, Syria, Egypt, and perhaps Nubia. I feel +it almost ludicrous to sketch the outline of so extensive +a tour, no part of which was ever executed; such +a Barmacide feast is laughable in the very rehearsal. +Yet it is bare justice to ourselves to say that on our +parts there was no slackness or <i>make-believe</i>: what +put an extinguisher upon our project was the entrance +of Napoleon into Spain, his immediate advance upon +Madrid, and the wretched catastrophe of the expedition +so miserably misconducted under Sir John +Moore. The <i>prestige</i> of French generalship was at +that time a nightmare upon the courage and spirit of +hopeful exertion throughout Europe; and the earliest +dawn was only then beginning to arise of that glorious +experience which was for ever to dissolve it. Sir J. +Moore, and through him his gallant but unfortunate +army, was the last conspicuous victim to the mere +sound and <i>humbug</i> (if you will excuse a coarse +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>expression) of the words <i>Napoleon Bonaparte</i>. What +he fled from was precisely those two words. And the +timid policy, adopted by Sir John on that memorable +occasion, would—among other greater and national +consequences—have had this little collateral interest +to us unfortunate travellers, had our movements been +as speedy as we had anticipated, that it would have +cost us our heads. A certain bulletin, issued by +Bonaparte at that time, sufficiently apprised us of +that little truth. In this bulletin Bonaparte proclaimed +with a careless air, but making at the same +time somewhat of a boast of it, that having happened +to meet a party of sixteen British travellers—persons +of whom he had ascertained nothing at all but that +they did not bear a military character—he had issued +a summary order that they should all be strung up +without loss of time by the neck. In this little +facetious anecdote, as Bonaparte seemed to think it, +we read the fate that we had escaped. Had nothing +occurred to retard our departure from this country, +we calculated that the route we had laid down for +our daily motions would have brought us to Guadarama +(or what was the name of the pass?) just in +time to be hanged. Having a British general at our +backs with an army of more than thirty thousand +effective men, we should certainly have roamed in +advance with perfect reliance upon the old British +policy of fighting, for which we could never have +allowed ourselves to dream of such a substitute as +a flight through all the passes of Gallicia on the +principle of '<i>the D—— take the hindmost</i>.' Infallibly +also we should have been surprised by the extraordinary +rapidity at that time of the French movements; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>our miserable shambling mules, with their +accursed tempers, would have made but a shabby +attempt at flight before a squadron of light cavalry; +and in short, as I said before, we should have come +just in time to be hanged. And hanged we should +all have been: though <i>why</i>, and upon what principle, +it would be difficult to say; and probably that question +would have been left to after consideration in some +more philosophical age. You will suppose naturally +that we rejoiced at our escape; and so undoubtedly +we did. Yet for my part I had, among nineteen-twentieths +of joy, just one-twentieth of a lingering +regret that we had missed the picturesque fate that +awaited us. The reason was this: it has been through +life an infirmity of Mr. Wilson's (at least in my +judgment an infirmity) to think too indulgently of +Bonaparte, not merely in an intellectual point of view, +but even with reference to his pretensions—hollower, +one would think, than the wind—to moral elevation +and magnanimity. Such a mistake, about a man who +could never in any one instance bring himself to +speak generously, or even forbearingly of an enemy, +rouses my indignation as often as I recur to it; and +in Professor Wilson, I have long satisfied myself that +it takes its rise from a more comprehensive weakness, +the greatest in fact which besets his mind, viz. a +general tendency to bend to the prevailing opinion +of the world, and a constitutional predisposition, to +sympathise with power and whatsoever is triumphant. +Hence, I could not but regret most poignantly the +capital opportunity I had forfeited of throwing in a +deep and stinging sarcasm at his idol, just at the +moment when we should have been waiting to be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>turned off. I know Professor Wilson well: though +a brave man, at twenty-two he enjoyed life with a +rapture that few men have ever known, and he would +have clung to it with awful tenacity. Horribly he +would have abominated the sight of the rope, and +ruefully he would have sighed if I had suggested to +him on the gallows any thoughts of that beautiful +and quiet Elleray which he had left behind in England. +Just at that moment I acknowledge that it would +have been fiendish, but yet what a heaven of a luxury +it would have been in the way of revenge—to have +stung him with some neat epigram, that I might +have composed in our walk to the gallows, or while +the ropes were getting into tune, on the generosity +and magnanimity of Bonaparte! Perhaps, in a sober +estimate, hanging might be too heavy a price for the +refutation of a single error; yet still, at times, when +my moral sense is roused and provoked by the +obstinate blindness of Professor Wilson to the meanness +and <i>parvanimity</i><a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> of Bonaparte (a blindness +which in him, as in all other worshippers of false +idols, is connected at the moment with intense hatred +for those who refuse to partake in it), a wandering +regret comes over me that we should have missed so +fine an opportunity for gathering in our own persons +some of those redundant bounties which the Corsican's +'magnanimity' at that time scattered from his cornucopia +of malice to the English name upon all his +unfortunate prisoners of that nation.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> +<p>But enough of this; an event soon occurred in Mr. +Wilson's life which made it a duty to dismiss for +ever all travelling schemes that were connected with +so much hazard as this. The fierce <i>acharnement</i> of +Bonaparte so pointedly directed to everything English, +and the prostration of the Continent, which had +enabled him absolutely to seal every port of Europe +against an Englishman, who could now no longer +venture to stray a mile beyond the range of the ship's +guns, which had brought him to the shore, without +the certainty of being arrested as a spy,—this unheard-of +condition of things had at length compelled all +English gentlemen to reconcile themselves for the +present to the bounds of their own island; and, +accordingly, in the spring of 1809, we three unhanged +friends had entirely weaned our minds from the +travelling scheme which had so completely occupied +our thoughts in 1808. Mr. Wilson in particular gave +himself up to the pleasures and occupations furnished +by the neighbourhood of Windermere, which at that +time were many and various; living myself at a +distance of nine miles from Elleray, I did not see +much of him through this year 1809; in 1810 he +married a young English lady, greatly admired for +her beauty and the elegance of her manners, who was +generally supposed to have brought him a fortune of +about ten thousand pounds. In saying <i>that</i>, I violate +no confidence at any time reposed in me, for I rely +only on the public voice—which, in this instance, I +have been told by well-informed persons, was tolerably +correct. Be that as it may, however, in other respects +I have the best reasons for believing that this marriage +connection has proved the happiest event of Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +Wilson's life; and that the delightful temper and +disposition of his wife have continued to shed a +sunshine of peace and quiet happiness over his +domestic establishment, which were well worth all +the fortunes in the world. This lady has brought +him a family of two sons and three daughters, all +interesting by their personal appearance and their +manners, and at this time rapidly growing up into +young men and women.</p> + +<p>Here I should close all further notice of Mr. Wilson's +life, and confine myself, through what remains of the +space which I have allowed myself, to a short critical +notice (such as it may be proper for a friend to write) +of his literary character and merits; but one single +event remains of a magnitude too conspicuous in any +man's life to be dismissed wholly without mention. +I should add, therefore, that, about eight or nine +years after his marriage (for I forget the precise +year<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a>), Mr. Wilson offered himself a candidate for +the chair of Moral Philosophy in the University in +Edinburgh, which had recently become vacant by the +death of Dr. Thomas Brown, the immediate successor +of Mr. Dugald Stewart. The Scotch, who know just +as much about what they call 'Moral<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> Philosophy' +and Metaphysics as the English do, viz. exactly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>nothing at all, pride themselves prodigiously upon +these two names of Dugald Stewart and Dr. Brown, +and imagine that they filled the chair with some +peculiar brilliance. Upon that subject a word or two +farther on. Meantime this notion made the contest +peculiarly painful and invidious, amongst ungenerous +enemies, for any untried man—no matter though his +real merits had been a thousand times greater than +those of his predecessors. This Mr. Wilson found; +he had made himself enemies; whether by any +unjustifiable violences, and wanton provocations on +his own part, I have no means of knowing. In +whatever way created, however, these enemies now +used the advantages of the occasion with rancorous +malignity, and persecuted him at every step with +unrelenting fury. Very different was the treatment +he met with from his competitor in the contest; in +that one circumstance of the case, the person of his +competitor, he had reason to think himself equally +fortunate and unfortunate; fortunate, that he should +be met by the opposition of a man whose opposition +was honour—a man of birth, talents, and high +breeding, a good scholar, and for extensive reading +and universal knowledge of books (and especially of +philosophic literature) the Magliabecchi of Scotland; +unfortunate on the other hand that this accomplished +opponent, adorned by so many brilliant gifts that +recommended him to the contested office, should +happen to be his early and highly valued friend. +The particular progress of the contest, and its circumstances, +I am not able to state; in general I have +heard in Edinburgh that, from political influences +which chiefly governed the course of the election, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>conduct of the partisans (perhaps on both sides) was +intemperate, personal, and unjust; whilst that of the +principals and their immediate friends was full of +forbearance and generosity. The issue was, that Mr. +Wilson carried the Professorship,—by what majority +of votes, I am unable to say; and you will be pleased +to hear that any little coolness, which must naturally +have succeeded to so warm a contest, has long since +passed away; and the two rival candidates have been +for many years restored to their early feelings of +mutual esteem and regard.</p> + +<p>Here I pause for everything that concerns in the +remotest way the incidents of Professor Wilson's life; +one letter I mean to add, as I have already promised, +on the particular position which he occupies in relation +to modern literature; and then I have done. +Meantime, let me hope that you have not so far +miscalculated my purpose as to have been looking +out for anecdotes (<i>i. e.</i> scandal) about Professor +Wilson throughout the course of this letter; since, +if in any case I could descend to cater for tastes of +that description (which I am persuaded, are naturally +no tastes of <i>your</i> family),—you must feel, on reflection, +how peculiarly impossible it is to take that +course in sketching the character of a friend, because +the very means, by which in almost every case one +becomes possessed of such private anecdotes, are the +opportunities thrown in one's way by the confiding +negligence of affectionate friendship; opportunities +therefore which must be for ever sacred to every man +of honour.</p> + +<p> +Yours most faithfully,<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Parmenides.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="265" id="THE_LAKE_DIALECT"></a>THE LAKE DIALECT.</h2> +<p><br /></p> +<p class="center"><i>To the Editor of 'Titan.'</i></p> + + +<p>My Dear Sir,—I send you a few hasty notes upon +Mr. Robert Ferguson's little work (relating to the +dialect current at the English Lakes).<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> Mr. Ferguson's +book is learned and seasonable, adapted to the stage +at which such studies have now arrived among us, +and adapted also to a popular use. I am sure that +Mr. Ferguson knows a great deal more about his very +interesting theme than <i>I</i> do. Nevertheless, I presume +to sit in judgment upon him; or so it will be inferred +from my assuming the office of his reviewer. But in +reality I pretend to no such ambitious and invidious +functions. What I propose to do, in this hasty and +<i>extempore</i> fashion, is—simply to take a seat in Mr. +Ferguson's court as an <i>amicus curiæ</i>, and occasionally +to suggest a doubt, by possibility an amendment; but +more often to lead astray judge, jury, and docile +audience into matter growing out of the subject, but +very seldom leading back into it, too often, perhaps, +having little to do with it; pleasant by possibility, +according to Foote's judgment in a parallel case, +'pleasant, but wrong.' No great matter if it should +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>be so. It will be read within the privileged term of +Christmas;<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> during which licensed saturnalia it can +be no blame to any paper, that it is 'pleasant, but +wrong.'</p> + +<p>I begin with lodging a complaint against Mr. +Ferguson, namely, that he has ignored me—me, that +in some measure may be described as having broken +ground originally in this interesting field of research. +Me, the undoubted parent of such studies—<i>i. e.</i> the +person who first solemnly proclaimed the Danish +language to be the master-key for unlocking the +peculiarities of the Lake dialect—me, has this undutiful +son never noticed, except incidentally, and then +only with some reserve, or even with a distinct scruple, +as regards the particular point of information for +which I am cited. Seriously, however, this very +passage, which offers me the affront of utter exclusion +from what I had regarded as my own peculiar territory, +my own Danish ring-fence, shows clearly that +no affront had been designed. Mr. Ferguson had +found occasion, at p. 80, to mention that <i>Fairfield</i>, +the most distinguished<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> of the Grasmere boundaries, +and 'next neighbour to Helvellyn' (next also in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>magnitude, being above three thousand feet high), +had, as regarded its name, 'been derived from the +Scandinavian <i>faar</i>, sheep, in allusion to the peculiar +fertility of its pastures.' He goes on thus—'This +mountain' (says De Quincey) 'has large, smooth +pastoral savannahs, to which the sheep resort when +all its rocky or barren neighbours are left desolate.' +In thus referring to myself for the character of the +mountain, he does not at all suppose that he is +referring to the author of the etymology. On the +contrary, the very next sentence says—'I do not +know who is the author of this etymology, which has +been quoted by several writers; but it appears to me +to be open to considerable doubt'; and this for two +separate reasons, which he assigns, and which I will +notice a little further on.</p> + +<p>Meantime I pause, for the sake of saying that the +derivation is mine. Thirty-seven, or it may be thirty-eight, +years ago, I first brought forward my Danish +views in a local newspaper—namely, <i>The Kendal +Gazette</i>, published every Saturday. The rival (I may +truly say—the hostile) newspaper, published also on +Saturday, was called <i>The Westmoreland Chronicle</i>. +The exact date of my own communication upon the +dialect of the Lake district I cannot at this moment +assign. Earlier than 1818 it could not have been, +nor later than 1820. What first threw me upon this +vein of exploring industry was, the accidental stumbling +suddenly upon an interesting little incident of +Westmoreland rustic life. From a roadside cottage, +just as I came nearly abreast of its door, issued a +little child; not old enough to walk with particular +firmness, but old enough for mischief; a laughing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>expression of which it bore upon its features. It was +clearly in the act of absconding from home, and was +hurrying earnestly to a turn of the road which it +counted upon making available for concealment. But, +before it could reach this point, a young woman, of +remarkable beauty, perhaps twenty years old, ran out +in some alarm, which was not diminished by hearing +the sound of carriage-wheels rapidly coming up from +a distance of probably two furlongs. The little rosy +thing stopped and turned on hearing its mother's +voice, but hesitated a little, until she made a gesture +of withdrawing her handkerchief from her bosom, and +said, coaxingly, 'Come its ways, then, and get its +<i>patten</i>.' Until that reconciling word was uttered, +there had been a shadow of distrust on the baby's +face, as if treachery might be in the wind. But the +magic of that one word <i>patten</i> wrought an instant +revolution. Back the little truant ran, and the young +mother's manner made it evident that she would not +on <i>her</i> part forget what had passed between the high +contracting parties.<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> What, then, could be the meaning +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>of this talismanic word <i>patten</i>? Accidentally, +having had a naval brother confined amongst the +Danes, as a prisoner of war, for eighteen months, I +knew that it meant the female bosom. Soon after I +stumbled upon the meaning of the Danish word +<i>Skyandren</i>—namely, what in street phrase amongst +ourselves is called giving to any person a <i>blowing-up</i>. +This was too remarkable a word, too bristling with +harsh blustering consonants, to baffle the detecting +ear, as it might have done under any masquerading +<i>aura-textilis</i>, or woven air of vowels and diphthongs.</p> + +<p>Many scores of times I had heard men threatening +to <i>skiander</i> this person or that when next they should +meet. Not by possibility could it indicate any mode +of personal violence; for no race of men could be +more mild and honourably forbearing in their intercourse +with each other than the manly dalesmen of +the Lakes. From the context, it had long been +evident that it implied expostulation and <i>verbal</i> +reproach. And now at length I learned that this was +its Danish import. The very mountain at the foot of +which my Grasmere cottage stood, and the little +orchard attached to which formed 'the lowest step in +that magnificent staircase' (such was Wordsworth's +description of it), leading upwards to the summits of +Helvellyn, reminded me daily of that Danish language +which all around me suggested as being the secret +writing—the seal—the lock that imprisoned ancient +records as to thing or person, and yet again as being +the key that should open this lock; as that which +had hidden through many centuries, and yet also as +that which should finally reveal.</p> + +<p>I have thus come round to the name of Fairfield, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>which seemed to me some forty years ago as beyond +all reasonable doubt the Danish mask for <i>Sheep-fell</i>. +But, in using the phrase '<i>reasonable</i> doubt,' I am far +from insinuating that Mr. Ferguson's deliberate doubt +is <i>not</i> reasonable. I will state both sides of the +question, for neither is without some show of argument. +To me it seemed next to impossible that the +early Danish settlers could, under the natural pressure +of prominent differences among that circuit of hills +which formed the barriers of Grasmere, have failed to +distinguish as the sheep mountain that sole eminence +which offered a pasture ground to their sheep all the +year round. In summer and autumn <i>all</i> the neighbouring +fells, that were not mere rocks, yielded pasture +more or less scanty. But Fairfield showed herself the +<i>alma mater</i> of their flocks even in winter and early +spring. So, at least, my local informants asserted. +Mr. Ferguson, however, objects, as an unaccountable +singularity, that on this hypothesis we shall have one +mountain, and one only, classed under the <i>modern</i> +Scandinavian term of <i>field</i>; all others being known +by the elder name of <i>fell</i>. I acknowledge that this +anomaly is perplexing. But, on the other hand, what +Mr. Ferguson suggests is still more perplexing. He +supposes that, 'because' the summit of this mountain +is such a peculiarly green and level plain, it might +not inappropriately be called <i>a fair field</i>.' Certainly +it might; but by Englishmen of recent generations, +and not by Danish immigrants of the ninth century. +To balance the anomaly of what certainly wears a +faint <i>soupçon</i> of anachronism—namely, the <i>apparent</i> +anticipation of the modern Norse word <i>field</i>, Mr. +Ferguson's conjecture would take a headlong plunge +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>into good classical English. Now of this there is no +other instance. Even the little swells of ground, that +hardly rise to the dignity of hills, which might be +expected to submit readily to changing appellations, +under the changing accidents of ownership, yet still +retain their primitive Scandinavian names—as <i>Butterlip +Howe</i>, for example. Nor do I recollect any exceptions +to this tendency, unless in the case of jocose +names, such as <i>Skiddaw's Cub</i>, for Lattrig; and into +this class, perhaps, falls even the dignified mountain +of <i>The Old Man</i>, at the head of Coniston. Mr. +Ferguson will allow that it would be as startling to +the dense old Danes of King Alfred's time, if they +had found a mountain of extra pretensions wearing a +modern English name, as it would to the Macedonian +<i>argyraspides</i>, if suspecting that, in some coming century, +their mighty leader, 'the great Emathian conqueror,' +could by any possible Dean of St. Patrick, +and by any conceivable audacity of legerdemain, be +traced back to <i>All-eggs-under-the-grate</i>. If the name +really <i>is</i> good English, in that case a separate and +<i>extra</i> labour arises for us all; there must have been +some old Danish name for this most serviceable of +fells; and then we have not merely to explain the +present English name, but also to account for the +disappearance of this archæological Danish name. +What I would throw out conjecturally as a bare +possibility is this:—When an ancient dialect (A) is +gradually superseded by a more modern one (E), the +flood of innovation which steals over the old reign, and +gradually dispossesses it, does not rush in simultaneously +as a torrent, but supervenes stealthily and +unequally, according to the humouring or thwarting +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>of local circumstances. Nobody, I am sure, is better +aware of this accident, as besetting the transit of +dialects, than Mr. Ferguson. For instance, many of +those words which are imported to us from the +American United States, and often amuse us by their +picturesqueness, have originally been carried to +America by our own people; in England they lurked +for ages as provincialisms, localised within some +narrow circuit, and to which some trifling barrier (as +a river—rivulet—or even a brook) offered a retarding +force. In supercivilised England, a river, it may be +thought, cannot offer much obstruction to the free +current of words; ages ago it must have been bridged +over. Sometimes, however, a bridge is impossible +under the transcendent importance of a free navigation. +For instance, at the Bristol Hotwells, the +ready and fluent intercourse with Long Ashton, and +a long line of adjacencies, is effectually obstructed by +the necessity of an open water communication with +the Bristol Channel. At one period (<i>i. e.</i> when as yet +Liverpool and Glasgow were fifth-rate ports), all the +wealth of the West Indies flowed into England +through this little muddy ditch of the Bristol Avon, +and Rownham Ferry became the exponent and +measure of English intercourse with the northern +nook of Somersetshire. A river is bad; but when +a mountain of very toilsome ascent happens to be +interposed, the interruption offered to the popular +intercourse, and the results of this interruption, +become much more memorable. An illustration which +I can offer on this point, and which, in fact, I <i>did</i> +offer (as, upon inquiry, Mr. Ferguson will find), thirty-eight +years ago, happens to bear with peculiar force +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>upon our immediate difficulty of Fairfield. The valleys +on the northern side of Kirkstone—namely, in particular, +the three valleys of Patterdale, Matterdale, +and Martindale—are as effectually cut off from +intercourse with the valleys on the southern side—namely, +the Windermere valley, Ryedale, and Grasmere, +with all their tributary nooks and attachments—as +though an arm of the sea had rolled between them. +It costs a foot traveller half of a summer's day to +effect the passage to and fro over Kirkstone (what +the Greeks so tersely expressed in the case of a race-course<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> +by the one word <i>diaulos</i>). And in <i>my</i> time +no innkeeper from the Windermere side of Kirkstone +would carry even a solitary individual across with +fewer than four horses. What has been the result? +Why, that the dialect on the northern side of Kirkstone +bears the impress of a more ultra-Danish +influence than that upon the Windermere side. In +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>particular this remarkable difference occurs: not the +nouns and verbs merely are Danish amongst the +trans-Kirkstonians (I speak as a Grasmerian), but +even the particles—the very joints and articulations +of language. The Danish <i>at</i>, for instance, is used for +<i>to</i>; I do not mean for <i>to</i> the preposition: they do not +say, 'Carry this letter at Mr. 'W.'; but as the sign +of the infinitive mood. 'Tell him <i>at</i> put his spurs on, +and <i>at</i> ride off for a surgeon?' Now this illustration +carries along with it a proof that a stronger and a +weaker infusion of the Danish element, possibly an +older and a younger infusion, may prevail even +in close adjacencies, provided they are powerfully +divided by walls of rock that happen to be eight miles +thick.</p> + +<p>But the inexorable Press, that waits for few men +under the rank of a king, and not always for <i>him</i> (as +I happen to know, by having once seen a proof-sheet +corrected by the royal hand of George IV., which +proof exhibited some disloyal signs of impatience), +forces me to adjourn all the rest to next month.—</p> + +<p>Yours ever,</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thomas De Quincey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="275" id="STORMS_IN_ENGLISH_HISTORY"></a>STORMS IN ENGLISH HISTORY:</h2> + +<h3>A GLANCE AT THE REIGN OF HENRY VIII.<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor"><small><small>[53]</small></small></a></h3> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>What two works are those for which at this moment +our national intellect (or, more rigorously speaking, +our <i>popular</i> intellect) is beginning clamorously to call? +They are these: first, a <i>Conversations-Lexicon</i>, obeying +(as regards plan and purpose) the general outline of +the German work bearing that title; ministering to +the same elementary necessities; implying, therefore, +a somewhat corresponding stage of progress in our +own populace and that of Germany; but otherwise +(as regards the executive details in adapting such a +work to the special service of an English public) +moving under moral restraints sterner by much, and +more faithfully upheld, than could rationally be looked +for in any great literary enterprise resigned to purely +German impulses. For over the atmosphere of +thought and feeling in Germany there broods no +<i>public</i> conscience. Such a <i>Conversations-Lexicon</i> is +one of the two great works for which the popular +mind of England is waiting and watching in silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +The other (and not less important) work is—a faithful +<i>History of England</i>. We will offer, at some future +time, a few words upon the first; but upon the +second—here brought before us so advantageously +in the earnest, thoughtful, and oftentimes eloquent +volumes of Mr. Froude—we will venture to offer +three or four pages of critical comment.</p> + +<p>Could the England of the sixteenth century have +escaped that great convulsion which accompanied the +dissolution of the monasteries? It is barely possible +that a gentle system of periodic decimations, distributing +this inevitable ruin over an entire century, +might have blunted the edge of the fierce ploughshare: +but there were difficulties in the way of such +arrangements, that would too probably have thwarted +the benign purpose.</p> + +<p>Meantime, what was it that had stolen like a +canker-worm into the machinery of these monastic +bodies, and insensibly had corroded a principle originally +of admitted purity? The malice of Protestantism +has too readily assumed that Popery was answerable +for this corrosion. But it would be hard to show +that Popery in any one of its features, good or bad, +manifested itself conspicuously and operatively: nay, +to say the simple truth, it was through the very +opposite agency that the monastic institutions came +to ruin: it was because Popery, that supreme control +to which these monasteries had been confided, shrank +from its responsibilities—weakly, lazily, or even perfidiously, +abandoned that supervisorship in default of +which neither right of inspection, nor duty of inspection, +nor power of inspection, was found to be lodged +in any quarter—<i>there</i> it was, precisely in that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>dereliction of censorial authority, that all went to +ruin. All corporations grow corrupt, unless habitually +kept under the eye of public inspection, or else +officially liable to searching visitations. Now, who +were the regular and official visitors of the English +monasteries? Not the local bishops; for in that case +the public clamour, the very notoriety of the scandals +(as we see them reported by Wicliffe and Chaucer), +would have guided the general wrath to some effectual +surgery for the wounds and ulcers of the institutions. +Unhappily the official visitors were the heads of the +monastic orders; these, and these only. A Franciscan +body, for example, owed no obedience except to the +representative of St. Francis; and this representative +too uniformly resided somewhere on the Continent. +And thus it was that effectually and virtually English +monasteries were subject to no control. Nay, the +very corrections of old abuses by English parliamentary +statutes had greatly strengthened the evil. +Formerly, the monastic funds were drawn upon to +excess in defraying the costs of a transmarine visitation. +But that evil, rising into enormous proportions, +was at length radically extirpated by parliamentary +statutes that cut down the costs; so that continental +devotees, finding their visitations no longer profitable +in a pecuniary sense, sometimes even costly to themselves, +and costly upon a scale but dimly intelligible +to any continental experience, rapidly cooled down in +their pious enthusiasm against monastic delinquencies. +Hatred, at any rate, and malignant anger the visitor +had to face, not impossibly some risk of assassination, +in prosecuting his inquiries into the secret crimes of +monks that were often confederated in a common +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>interest of resistance to all honest or searching inquiry. +But, if to these evils were superadded others +of a pecuniary class, it was easy to anticipate, under +this failure of all regular inspectorship, a period of +plenary indulgence to the excesses of these potent +corporations. Such a period came: no man being +charged with the duty of inspection, no man inspected; +but never was the danger more surely at hand, than +when it seemed by all ordinary signs to have absolutely +died out. Already, in the days of Richard II., +the doom of the monasteries might be heard muttering +in the chambers of the upper air. In the angry +denunciations of Wicliffe, in the popular merriment +of Chaucer, might be read the same sentence of condemnation +awarded against them. Fierce warnings +were given to them at intervals. A petition against +them was addressed by the House of Commons to +Henry IV. The son of this prince, the man of +Agincourt, though superstitious enough, if superstition +could have availed them, had in <i>his</i> short reign +(so occupied, one might have thought, with war and +foreign affairs) found time to read them a dreadful +warning: more than five scores of these offending +bodies (Priories Alien) were suppressed by that single +monarch, the laughing <i>Hal</i> of Jack Falstaff. One +whole century slipped away between this penal suppression +and the ministry of Wolsey. What effect +can we ascribe to this admonitory chastisement upon +the general temper and conduct of the monastic +interest? It would be difficult beyond measure at +this day to draw up any adequate report of the foul +abuses prevailing in the majority of religious houses, +for the three following reasons:—First, because the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>main record of such abuses, after it had been elaborately +compiled under the commission of Henry VIII., +was (at the instigation of his eldest daughter Mary) +most industriously destroyed by Bishop Bonner; +secondly, because too generally the original oath of +religious fidelity and secrecy, in matters interesting +to the founder and the foundation, was held to interfere +with frank disclosures; thirdly, because, as to +much of the most crying licentiousness, its full and +satisfactory detection too often depended upon a +surprise. Steal upon the delinquents suddenly, and +ten to one they were caught <i>flagrante delicto</i>: but +upon any notice transpiring of the hostile approach, +all was arranged so as to evade for the moment—or +in the end to baffle finally—search alike and suspicion.</p> + +<p>The following report, which Mr. Froude views as +the liveliest of all that Bishop Bonner's zeal has +spared, offers a picturesque sketch of such cases, +according to the shape which they often assumed. In +Chaucer's tale, told with such unrivalled <i>vis comica</i>, +of the <i>Trompington Miller and the Two Cambridge +Scholars</i>, we have a most life-like picture of the miller +with his 'big bones,' as a 'dangerous' man for the +nonce. Just such a man, just as dangerous, and just +as big-boned, we find in the person of an abbot—defending +his abbey, not by any reputation for sanctity +or learning, but solely by his <i>dangerousness</i> as the +wielder of quarter-staff and cudgel. With no bull-dog +or mastiff, and taken by surprise, such an abbot +naturally lost the stakes for which he played. The +letter is addressed to the Secretary of State:—'Please +it your goodness to understand, that on Friday the +22nd of October (1535), I rode back with speed to take +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>an inventory of Folkstone; and thence I went to +Langden. Whereat immediately descending from +my horse, I sent Bartlett, your servant, with all <i>my</i> +servants, to circumsept the abbey [<i>i. e.</i> to form a +hedge round about], and surely to keep [guard] all +back-doors and starting holes. I myself went alone +to the abbot's lodging—joining upon the fields and +wood.' [This position, the reporter goes on to insinuate, +was no matter of chance: but, like a rabbit-warren, +had been so placed with a view to the +advantages for retreat and for cover in the adjacent +woodlands.] 'I was a good space knocking at the +abbot's door; neither did any sound or sensible +manifestation of life betray itself, saving the abbot's +little dog, that within his door, fast locked, bayed and +barked. I found a short pole-axe standing behind +the door; and with it I dashed the abbot's door in +pieces <i>ictu oculi</i> [in the twinkling of an eye]; and set +one of my men to keep that door; and about the +house I go with that pole-axe in my hand—<i>ne forte</i> +["<i>lest by any chance</i>"<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a>—holding in suspense such +words as "<i>some violence should be offered</i>"]—for the +abbot is a dangerous, desperate knave, and a hardy. +But, for a conclusion, his gentlewoman bestirred her +stumps towards her starting holes; and then Bartlett, +watching the pursuit, took the tender <i>demoisel</i>; and, +after I had examined her, to Dover—to the mayor, +to set her in some cage or prison for eight days. +And I brought holy father abbot to Canterbury; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>and here, in Christ Church, I will leave him in +prison.'</p> + +<p>This little interlude, offering its several figures in +such life-like attitudes—its big-boned abbot prowling +up and down the precincts of the abbey for the chance +of a 'shy' at the intruding commissioner—the little +faithful bow-wow doing its <i>petit possible</i> to warn big-bones +of his danger, thus ending his faithful services +by an act of farewell loyalty—and the unlucky +<i>demoisel</i> scuttling away to her rabbit-warren, only to +find all the spiracles and peeping-holes preoccupied or +stopped, and her own 'apparel' unhappily locked up +'<i>in the abbot his coffer</i>,' so as to render hopeless all +evasion or subsequent denial of the fact, that ten +big-boned 'indusia' (or shirts) lay interleaved in one +and the same 'coffer,' <i>inter totidem niveas camisas</i><a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> (or +chemises)—all this framed itself as a little amusing +parenthesis, a sort of family picture amongst the +dreadful reports of ecclesiastical commissioners.</p> + +<p>No <i>suppression</i> of the religious houses had originally +been designed; nothing more than a searching <i>visitation</i>. +And at this moment, yes, at this present +midsummer of 1856, waiting and looking forward to +the self-same joyful renewal of leases that then was +looked for in England, but not improbably, alas! +summoned to the same ineffable disappointment as +fell more than three centuries back upon our own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +England—lies, waiting for her doom, a great kingdom +in central Europe. She, and under the same causes, +may chance to be disappointed. What was it that +caused the tragic convulsion in England? Simply +this: regular and healthy visitation having ceased, +infinite abuses had arisen; and these abuses, it was +found at last, could not be healed by any measure less +searching than absolute suppression. Austria, as +regards some of her provinces, stands in the same +circumstances at this very moment. Imperfect +visitations, that cleansed nothing, should naturally +have left her religious establishments languishing for +the one sole remedy that was found applicable to the +England of 1540. And what was <i>that</i>? It was a +remedy that carried along with it revolution. England +was found able in those days to stand that fierce +medicine: a more profound revolution has not often +been witnessed than that of our mighty Reformation. +Can Austria, considering the awful contagions +amongst which her political relations have entangled +her, hope for the same happy solution of her case? +Perhaps a revolution, that once unlocks the fountains +of blood in central Germany, will be the bloodiest of +all revolutions: whereas, in our own chapters of +revolution even the stormiest, those of the Marian +Persecution and of the Parliamentary War, both +alike moved under restraints of law and legislative +policy. The very bloodiest promises of English +history have replied but feebly to the clamour and +expectations of cruel or fiery partisans. Different is +the prospect for Austria. From her, and from the +auguries of evil which becloud her else smiling atmosphere, +let us turn back to our own history in this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>sixteenth century, and for a moment make a brief +inquest into the blood that really was shed—whether +justly or not justly. Bloodshed, as an instinct—bloodshed, +as an appetite—raged like a monsoon in +the French Revolution, and many centuries before in +the Rome of Sylla and Marius—in the Rome of the +Triumvirate, and generally in the period of Proscriptions. +Too fearfully it is evident that these fits of +<i>acharnement</i> were underlaid and fed by paroxysms of +personal cruelty. In England, on the other hand, +foul and hateful as was the Marian butchery, nevertheless +it cannot be denied that this butchery rested +entirely upon principle. Homage offered to anti-Lutheran +principles, in a moment disarmed the Popish +executioner. Or if (will be the objection of the +reflecting reader)—if there are exceptions to this +rule, these must be looked for amongst the king's +enemies. And the term 'enemies' will fail to represent +adequately those who, not content with ranking +themselves wilfully amongst persons courting objects +irreconcilable to the king's interests, sought to exasperate +the displeasure of Henry by special insults, +by peculiar mortifications, and by complex ingratitude. +Foremost amongst such cases stands forward the +separate treason of Anne Boleyn, mysterious to this +hour in some of its features, rank with pollutions +such as European prejudice would class with Italian +enormities, and by these very pollutions—literally by +and through the very excess of the guilt—claiming +to be incredible. Neither less nor more than this +which follows is the logic put into the mouth of the +Lady Anne Boleyn:—From the mere enormity of the +guilt imputed to me, from that very abysmal stye of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>incestuous adultery in which now I wallow, I challenge +as of right the presumption that I am innocent; for +the very reason that I am loaded in my impeachment +with crimes that are inhuman, I claim to be no +criminal at all. Because my indictment is revolting +and monstrous, therefore is it incredible. The case, +taken apart from the person, would not (unless +through its mysteriousness and imperfect circumstantiation) +have attracted the interest which <i>has</i> given +it, and <i>will</i> in all time coming continue to give it, a +root in history amongst insoluble or doubtfully soluble +historical problems. The <i>case</i>, being painful and +shocking, would by readers generally have long since +been dismissed to darkness. But the <i>person</i>, too +critically connected with a vast and immortal revolution, +will for ever call back the case before the +tribunals of earth. The mother of Queen Elizabeth, +the mother of Protestantism in England, cannot be +suffered—never <i>will</i> be suffered—to benefit by that +shelter of merciful darkness which, upon any humbler +person, or even upon this person in any humbler case, +might be suffered to settle quietly as regards the +memory of her acts. Mr. Froude, a pure-minded +man, is the last man to call back into the glare of a +judicial inquest deeds of horror, over which eternal +silence should have brooded, had such an issue been +possible. But three centuries of discussion have +made <i>that</i> more and more impossible. And now, +therefore, with a view to the improvement of the +dispute, and, perhaps, in one or two instances, with a +chance for the rectification of the '<i>issues</i>' (speaking +juridically) into which the question has been allowed +to lapse, Mr. Froude has in some degree re-opened +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>the discussion. 'The guilt,' he says, 'must rest +where it is due. But under any hypothesis guilt +there <i>was</i>—dark, mysterious, and most miserable.'</p> + +<p>Tell this story how you may, and the evidence +remains of guilt under <i>any</i> hypothesis—guilt such as +in Grecian tragedy was seen thousands of years ago +hanging in clouds of destiny over princely houses, +and reading to them a doom of utter ruin, root and +branch, in which, as in the anarchy of hurricanes, no +form or feature was descried distinctly—nothing but +some dim fluctuating phantom, pointing with recording +finger to that one ancestral crime through which the +desolation had been wrought.</p> + +<p>Mr. Froude, through his natural sense of justice, +and his deep study of the case, is unfavourably disposed +towards the Lady Anne Boleyn: nevertheless +he retains lingering doubts on her behalf, all of which, +small and great, we have found reason to dismiss. +We, for our parts, are thoroughly convinced of her +guilt. Our faith is, that no shadow of any ground +exists for suspending the verdict of the sentence; but +at the same time for mitigating that sentence there +arose this strong argument—namely, that amongst +women not formally pronounced idiots, there never +can have been one more pitiably imbecile.</p> + +<p>There is a mystery hanging over her connection +with the king which nobody has attempted to disperse. +We will ourselves suggest a few considerations that +may bring a little coherency amongst the scattered +glimpses of her fugitive court life. The very first +thought that presents itself, is a sentiment, that +would be pathetic in the case of a person entitled to +more respect, upon the brevity of her public career.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +Apparently she lost the king's favour almost in the +very opening of her married life. But in what way? +Not, we are persuaded, through the king's caprice. +There was hardly time for caprice to have operated; +and her declension in favour from that cause would +have been gradual. Time there was none for her +beauty to decay—neither <i>had</i> it decayed. We are +disposed to think that in a very early stage of her +intercourse with the king, she had irritated the king +by one indication of mental imbecility rarely understood +even amongst medical men—namely, the +offensive habit of laughing profusely without the +least sense of anything ludicrous or comic. Oxford, +or at least one of those who shot at the Queen, was +signally distinguished by this habit. Without reason +or pretext, he would break out into causeless laughter, +not connected with any impulse that he could explain. +With this infirmity Anne Boleyn was plagued in +excess. On the 2nd of May, 1536, the very first day +on which she was made aware of the dreadful accusations +hanging over her good name and her life, on +being committed to the Tower, and taken by Sir +William Kingston, the governor, to the very same +chambers in which she had lain at the period of her +coronation, she said, 'It' (meaning the suite of rooms) +'is too good for me; Jesu, have mercy on me;' next +she kneeled down, 'weeping a great space.' Such are +Sir William's words; immediately after which he +adds, 'and in the same sorrow fell into a great +laughing.' A day or two later than this, she said, +'Master Kingston, shall I die without justice?'—meaning, +it seems, would she be put to death without +any judicial examination of her case; upon which Sir<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +William replied, 'The poorest subject the king hath, +had justice'—meaning, that previously to such an +examination of his case, he could not by regular +course of justice be put to death. Such was the +question of the prisoner—such was the answer of the +king's representative. What occasion was here +suggested for rational laughter? And yet laughter +was her sole comment. 'Therewith,' says Sir William, +'she laughed.' On May 18th, being the day next +before that of her execution, she said, 'Master +Kingston, I hear say I shall not die afore noon; and +I am very sorry therefore, for I thought to be dead +by this time, and past my pain.' Upon this Sir +William assured her 'it should be no pain, it was so +subtle;' meaning that the stroke of a sword by a +powerful arm, applied to a slender neck, could not +meet resistance enough to cause any serious pain. +She replied, 'I heard say the executioner was very +good, and I have a little neck;' after which she +laughed heartily. Sir William so much misunderstood +this laughter, which was doubtless of the same +morbid and idiotic character as all the previous cases, +that he supposes her to have had 'much joy and +pleasure in death,' which is a mere misconstruction of +the case. Even in the very act of dying she could +not check her smiling, which assuredly was as morbid +in its quality and origin as what of old was known as +'<i>risus sardonicus</i>.'</p> + +<p>Carrying along with us, therefore, a remembrance +of this repulsive habit, which argues a silliness so +constitutional, and noting also the obstinate (almost +it might be called the brutal) folly with which, during +the last seventeen days of her life, she persisted in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>criminating herself, volunteering a continued rehearsal +of conversations the most profligate, under a mere +instinct of gossiping, we shall begin to comprehend +the levity which no doubt must have presided in her +conversations with the king. Too evidently in a +court but recently emerging from barbarism, there +was a shocking defect of rules or fixed ceremonial for +protecting the dignity of the queen and of her female +attendants. The settlement of any such rules +devolved upon the queen herself, in default of any +traditional system; and unhappily here was a queen +without sense, without prudence, without native and +sexual dignity for suggesting or upholding such +restraints, and whose own breeding and experience +had been purely French. Strange it was that the +king's good sense, or even his jealousy, had not +peremptorily enjoined, as a caution of mere decency, +the constant presence of some elderly matrons, uniting +rank and station with experience and good sense. +But not the simplest guarantees for ordinary decorum +were apparently established in the royal household. +And the shocking spectacle was daily to be seen, of a +young woman, singularly beautiful, atrociously silly, +and without common self-respect, styling herself +Queen of England, yet exacting no more respect or +homage than a housemaid, suffering young men, the +most licentious in all England, openly to speculate on +the contingency of her husband's death, to talk of it +in language the coarsest, as 'waiting for dead men's +shoes,' and bandying to and fro the chances that this +man or that man, according to the whim of the +morning, should 'have her,' or should <i>not</i> 'have her'—that +is, have the reversion of the queen's person as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>a derelict of the king. All this, though most injurious +to her prospects, was made known by Anne Boleyn +herself to the female companions who were appointed +to watch her revelations in prison. And certainly no +chambermaid ever rehearsed her own colloquies with +these vile profligates in a style of thinking more abject +than did at this period the female majesty of England. +Listening to no accuser, but simply to the unsolicited +revelations of the queen herself, as she lay in bed +amongst her female attendants in the Tower, every +man of sense becomes aware, that if these presumptuous +young libertines abstained from daily +proposals to the queen of the most criminal nature, +<i>that</i> could arise only from the reserve and suspicion +incident to a state of rivalship, and not from any +deference paid to the queen's personal pretensions, or +to her public character.</p> + +<p>Three years, probably one-half of that term, had +seen the beginning, the decay, and the utter extinction +of the king's affection for Anne. It is known now, +and at the time it had furnished a theme for conjecture, +that very soon after his marriage the king +manifested uneasiness, and not long after angry +suspicions, upon matters connected with the queen. +We have no doubt that she herself, whilst seeking to +amuse the king with fragments of her French experiences, +had, through mere oversight and want of tact, +unintentionally betrayed the risks to which her +honour had been at times exposed. Without presence +of mind, without inventive talent or rapidity of +artifice, she would often compromise herself, and +overshoot her momentary purposes of furnishing +amusement to the king. He had heard too much.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +He believed no longer in her purity. And very soon, +as a natural consequence, she ceased to interest him. +The vague wish to get rid of her would for some time +suggest no hopeful devices towards such a purpose. +For some months, apparently, he simply neglected +her. This neglect unhappily it was that threw her +unprotected upon the vile society of young libertines. +Two of these—Sir Henry Norris and Sir Francis +Weston—had been privileged friends of the king. +But no restraints of friendship or of duty had checked +their designs upon the queen. Either special words, +or special acts, had been noticed and reported to the +king. Thenceforward a systematic watch had been +maintained upon all parties. Discoveries more +shocking than anybody looked for had been made. +The guilty parties had been careless: blind themselves, +they thought all others blind; but, during +the April of 1536, the Privy Council had been +actively engaged in digesting and arranging the +information received.</p> + +<p>On May-day, the most gladsome day in the whole +year, according to the usages of that generation, the +dreadful news transpired of the awful accusations and +the impending trials. Smeton, a musician, was the +only person not of gentlemanly rank amongst the +accused. He was accused of adultery with the +queen; and he confessed the offence; never retracting +that part of his confession. In discussing the +probabilities of the case, it is necessary to use special +and extraordinary caution. The confession, for instance, +of Anne herself has been treated as hollow +and unmeaning; because, it is alleged, the king's +promise of indulgence and favour to her infant +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>daughter was purchased under the condition of confession. +It is clear that such a traffic would not have +been available except in special and exceptional cases. +As to Smeton, he did not at all meet the king's +expectations, except as to the one point of confessing +the adultery. Consequently, as he was quite disinterested, +had nothing at all to gain, and did gain +nothing by his confession, <i>him</i> we are obliged to +believe. On the other hand, the <i>non</i>-confession of +some amongst the gentlemen, if any there were that +steadfastly adhered to this non-confession, proves +nothing at all; since <i>they</i> thought it perfidy to confess +such a case against a woman. Meantime, Constantyne, +a known friend of Sir H. Norris and of +Sir W. Brereton, two of the four gentlemen accused, +declares that, for himself, being a Protestant, and +knowing the queen's secret leaning to that party, he +and all other 'friends of the gospel' could not bring +themselves to believe that the queen had behaved so +abominably. 'As I may be saved before God,' he +says, 'I could not believe it, afore I heard them speak +at their death. But on the scaffold, in a manner <i>all</i> +confessed, unless Norris; and as to <i>him</i>, what he said +amounted to nothing.' The truth is, there occurred +in the cases of these gentlemen a dreadful struggle. +The dilemma for <i>them</i> was perhaps the most trying +upon record. Gallantry and manly tenderness forbade +any man's confessing, for a certain result of ruin to a +woman, any treasonable instances of love which she +had shown to him. Yet, on the other hand, to deny +was to rush into the presence of God with a lie upon +their lips. Hence the unintelligible character of their +final declarations. Smeton, as no gentleman, was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>hanged. All the other four—Norris, Brereton, +Weston, and Rochford—were beheaded. The four +gentlemen and Smeton suffered all on the same day—namely, +Wednesday, the 17th of May. Of all the +five, Sir W. Brereton was the only one whose guilt +was doubted. Yet he was the most emphatic in +declaring his own guilt. If he could die a thousand +deaths, he said, all would be deserved.</p> + +<p>But the crime of all the rest seemed pale by the +side of Rochford's. He had been raised to the +peerage by Henry, as an expression of his kindness +to the Boleyn family. He was the brother of Anne; +and whilst the others had offended by simple adultery +with Anne, <i>his</i> crime was incestuous adultery; and +his dying words appeared (to the <i>auditors</i>), 'if not,' +says Mr. Froude, 'a confession, yet something too +nearly resembling it.'</p> + +<p>From such dreadful offences, all readers are glad +to hurry away; yet in one respect this awful impeachment +has a reconciling effect. No reader after +this wishes for further life to Anne. For her own +sake it is plain that through death must lie the one +sole peaceful solution of her unhappy and erring life. +Some people have most falsely supposed that the case +against the brother and sister, whatever might be +pronounced upon the four other cases, laboured under +antecedent improbabilities so great as to vitiate, or +to load with suspicion, the entire case of the Privy +Council. But, on the contrary, the shocking monstrosity +of the charge strengthens the anti-Boleyn +impeachment. As a means for getting rid of Anne, +the Rochford case was not at all needed. If it could +even in dreams be represented as false, the injury +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>offered to the Boleyns, whilst quite superfluous for +any purpose of Henry's, would be too atrocious an +outrage upon truth and natural justice for human +nature to tolerate. The very stones would mutiny +against such a calumny coming as a crown or crest +to other injuries separately unendurable, if they could +once be regarded as injuries at all. Under these +circumstances, what should we think of a call upon +Lord Berkshire, the very father of Anne Boleyn, to +sit as one of the judges upon the cases. Not, indeed, +upon the cases of his son and his daughter; from +such Roman trials of fortitude he was excused; but +on the other cases he was required to officiate as one +of the judges. And, in fact, the array of rank and +splendour, as exhibited in the persons of those who +composed the court, surpassed anything previously +known in England. On the part of the crown, it +was too keenly felt that the deep personal interest of +the king, in obtaining liberty to form a new marriage +connection with Jane Seymour, would triumphantly +outweigh all the justice that ever could be arrayed +against the two Boleyns. Nothing could win a +moment's audience for the royal cause, except an unparalleled +and matchless splendour in the composition +of the court. This, therefore, was secured. Pretty +nearly the whole peerage of that period was embattled +upon the bench of judges.</p> + +<p>Meantime, the tragedy, so far as the queen is +concerned, took a turn which convicts all parties of a +blunder; of a blunder the most needless and superfluous. +This blunder was exposed by Bishop Burnet +about a hundred and fifty years later, but most +insufficiently exposed; and to this hour it has not +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>been satisfactorily cleared up. Let us pursue the +arrears of the case. The four gentlemen, together +with Mark Smeton, were executed (as we have seen) +on Wednesday, the 17th of May, 1536. Two days +later Queen Anne Boleyn was brought out at noonday +upon the verdant lawn within the Tower, and with +very slight ceremonies she suffered decapitation. A +single cannon-shot proclaimed to London and Westminster +the final catastrophe of this unhappy romance. +Anne had offered not one word of self-vindication on +this memorable occasion; and, if her motive to so +signal a forbearance were really consideration for the +interests of her infant daughter, it must be granted +that she exhibited, in the farewell act of her life, a +grandeur of self-conquest which no man could have +anticipated. For this act she has never received the +homage which she deserved; whilst, on the other +hand, praise most unmerited has been given for three +centuries to the famous letter of self-defence which +she is reputed to have addressed to the king at the +opening of her trial. This letter, beyond all doubt +a forgery, was first brought into effectual notice by +the <i>Spectator</i> somewhere about 1710; and, whether +authentic or not, is most injudiciously composed. It +consists of five paragraphs, each one of which is +pulling distractedly in contradictory directions.</p> + +<p>Meantime, that or any other act of Anne Boleyn's +was superseded by a fatal discovery, which changed +utterly the relations of all parties, which in effect +acquitted Anne of treason, and which summarily +rehabilitated as untainted subjects of the king those +five men who had suffered death in the character of +traitors. The marriage of Anne to the king, it was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>suddenly discovered, had from the beginning been +void. It is true that we have long ceased to accredit +those objections from precontracts, &c., which in the +papal courts would be held to establish a nullity. But +we are to proceed by the laws as then settled. Grounds +of scruple, which would now raise at most a mere case +of irregularity, at that time, unless met <i>ab initio</i> by +a papal dispensation, did legally constitute a flaw +such as even a friendly pope could not effectually +cure; far less that angry priest, blazing up with +wrath, and at intervals meditating an interdict, who +at present occupied the chair of St. Peter. Here was +a discovery to make, after so much irreparable injustice +had been already perpetrated! If (which is +too certain), under the marriage laws then valid, +Anne Boleyn never had been the lawful wife of +Henry, then, as Bishop Burnet suddenly objected +when too late by one hundred and fifty years, what +became of the adultery imputed to Anne, and the five +young courtiers? Not being the king's wife, both +<i>she</i> was incapable in law of committing adultery as +against the king, and by an inevitable consequence +<i>they</i> were incapable of participating in a crime which +she was incapable of committing.</p> + +<p>When was this fatal blunder detected? Evidently +before any of the victims had become cold in their +graves. And the probability is—that, when the +blunder was first perceived, the dreadful consequences +of that blunder, and the legal relations of those consequences, +were not immediately discerned. What +convinces us of this is, that the first impulse of the +king and his advisers, upon discovering through a +secret communication made by Anne the existence of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>a precontract, and the consequent vitiation of her +marriage with the king, had been, to charge upon +Anne a new and scandalous offence. Not until they +had taken time to review the case, did they become +aware of the injustice that had been perpetrated by +their own precipitance: and as this was past all +reparation, probably it was agreed amongst the few +who were parties to the fatal oversight, that the +safest course was to lock up the secret in darkness. +But it is singular to watch the fatality of error which +pursued this ill-starred marriage. Every successive +critic, in exposing the errors of his predecessor, has +himself committed some fresh blunder. Bishop +Burnet, for instance, first of all in a Protestant age +indicated the bloody mistakes of papal lawyers in +1536; not meaning at all to describe these mistakes +as undetected by those who were answerable for them. +Though hushed up, they were evidently known to +their unhappy authors. Next upon Burnet, down +comes Mr. Froude. Burnet had shaped his criticism +thus: 'If,' he says, 'the queen was not married to +the king, there was no adultery.' Certainly not. +But, says Mr. Froude, Burnet forgets that she was +condemned for conspiracy and incest, as well as for +adultery. Then thirdly come we, and reverting to +this charge of forgetfulness upon Burnet, we say, +Forgets! but how was he bound to remember? The +conspiracy, the incest, the adultery, all alike vanish +from the record exactly as the character of wife +vanishes from Anne. With any or all of these +crimes Henry had no right to intermeddle. They +were the crimes of one who never had borne any +legal relation to him; crimes, therefore, against her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>own conscience, but not against the king in any +character that he was himself willing permanently to +assume.</p> + +<p>On this particular section of Henry's reign, the +unhappy episode of his second wife, Mr. Froude has +erred by insufficient rigour of justice. Inclined to +do more justice than is usually done to the king, and +not blind to the dissolute character of Anne, he has +yet been carried, by the pity inalienable from the +situation, to concede more to the pretences of doubt +and suspense than is warranted by the circumstances +of the case. Anne Boleyn was too surely guilty up +to the height of Messalina's guilt, and far beyond +that height in one atrocious instance.</p> + +<p>Passing from <i>that</i> to the general pretensions of +this very eloquent and philosophic book, we desire to +say—that Mr. Froude is the first writer (first and +sole) who has opened his eyes to comprehend the +grandeur of this tremendous reign.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="298" id="THE_ENGLISH_IN_INDIA"></a>THE ENGLISH IN INDIA.</h2> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>In now reproducing the three series of notes on the +Indian Mutiny written by <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> for me in +<i>Titan</i>, I must advert briefly to the agony of apprehension +under which the two earlier chapters were +written. I can never forget the intense anxiety with +which he studied daily the columns of <i>The Scotsman</i> +and <i>The Times</i>, looking wistfully for tidings from +Roorkhee where his daughter <span class="smcap">Florence</span> was shut up. +The father's heart was on the rack until news arrived +that the little garrison was saved.</p> + +<p>The following paragraph from a letter written to +his daughter <span class="smcap">Emily</span> on Sunday, December 1st, 1857, +will give some idea of the tension of that terrible +suspense:—</p> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">India.</span>—Up to the last mail but one (or briefly in +its Latin form, up to the penultimate mail), I suffered +in my nervous system to an extent that (except +once, in 1812) had not experimentally been made +known to me as a possibility. Every night, oftentimes +all night long, I had the same dream—a vision +of children, most of them infants, but not all, the +<i>first</i> rank being girls of five and six years old, who +were standing in the air outside, but so as to touch +the window; and I heard, or perhaps fancied that I +heard, always the same dreadful word <i>Delhi</i>, not then +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>knowing that a word even more dreadful—- Cawnpore—was +still in arrear. This fierce shake to my +nerves caused almost from the beginning a new +symptom to expose itself (of which previously I never +had the faintest outline), viz. somnambulism; and +now every night, to my great alarm, I wake up +to find myself at the window, which is sixteen feet +from the nearest side of the bed. The horror was +unspeakable from the hell-dog Nena or Nana; how +if this fiend should get hold of <span class="smcap">Florence</span> or her baby +(now within seventeen days of completing her half +year)? What first gave me any relief was a good +firm-toned letter, dated <i>Rourkee</i>,<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> in the public journals, +from which it was plain that <i>Rourkee</i> had found +itself able to act aggressively.'</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> had reason to be proud of his son-in-law, +<span class="smcap">Colonel Baird Smith</span>, whose varied and brilliant +services, culminating at the siege of Delhi, are +written in the pages of <span class="smcap">Sir John Kaye's</span> and <span class="smcap">Colonel +Malleson's</span> <i>History of the Sepoy War</i>.</p> + +<p>On that fateful day at Delhi, when so much hung +upon the decision as to whether the British should +hold the ground they had won in the first assault, it +is not too much to say that 'the splendid obstinacy' +of <span class="smcap">Baird Smith</span> practically saved India.</p> + +<p>I throw together a few passages from the thrilling +pages where the story is told—sufficient to enable +the reader who comes fresh to the subject, to understand +what manner of man this gallant engineer was +who made his mark on British India.</p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p> +<p>Rúrki (or Roorkhee) was the head-quarters of the +Engineering Science of the country. When the +news came of the Delhi massacre, <span class="smcap">Baird Smith</span> instantly +made 'admirable arrangements for the defence +of the great engineering depot, in which he took such +earnest and loving interest. Officially, he was superintendent +of irrigation in the north-western provinces—a +most useful functionary, great in all the +arts of peace, and with a reputation which any man +might be proud to possess. But the man of much +science now grew at once into the man of war, and +Rúrki became a garrison under his command. Not +an hour was lost.'</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>His timely express to <span class="smcap">Major Charles Reid</span> to bring +his men on by the Ganges Canal route instead of by +forced marches was an early evidence of his combination +of dash and sound judgment. <span class="smcap">Reid</span> said, that +it saved the place and the lives of the ladies and +children.</p> + +<p>From the hour that he made his appearance before +Delhi as Chief Engineer, a succession of incidents +stand on record which show his skill and courage. +On the first occasion of <span class="smcap">Brigadier-General Wilson</span> +consulting him professionally, 'he threw all the +earnestness of his nature into a great remonstrance +against the project of withdrawal. He told the +General that to raise the siege would be fatal to our +national interests. 'It is our duty,' he said, 'to +retain the grip which we now have upon Delhi, and +to hold on like Grim Death until the place is our +own.' He argued it ably. <span class="smcap">Wilson</span> listened, and was +convinced.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>In that supreme moment at the storming of Delhi, +when the repulse of two columns, the heavy losses, +and the great strength of the place caused the +General to hesitate whether to continue the operations, +England had cause to feel thankful for the +tenacity and daring of two of her sons:—</p> + +<p>'From this fatal determination <span class="smcap">General Wilson</span> +was saved by the splendid obstinacy of <span class="smcap">Baird +Smith</span>, aided by the soldier-like instincts of <span class="smcap">Neville +Chamberlain</span>.... The General undoubtedly +believed that the safety of the army would be compromised +by the retention of the positions they had +gained. Fortunately, <span class="smcap">Baird Smith</span> was at his elbow. +Appealed to by <span class="smcap">General Wilson</span> as to whether he +thought it possible for the army to retain the ground +they had won, his answer was short and decisive, +"We <i>must</i> do so!" That was all. But the uncompromising +tone, the resolute manner, the authority +of the speaker, combined to make it a decision against +which there was no appeal. <span class="smcap">General Wilson</span> +accepted it.... It is not too much to +affirm, that a retrograde movement would, for the +time, have lost India.'</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>In spite of the sufferings attendant on a severe +wound, the indomitable spirit of this brave soldier +carried him through all trials until India was practically +saved. Then, shattered by his many exertions, +the breathing time came too late. His career is +thus summed up in the following inscription on his +tomb in Calcutta Cathedral:—</p> + +<p>'<span class="smcap">Colonel Richard Baird Smith</span> of the Bengal +Engineers, Master of the Calcutta Mint, C.B. and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +A.D.C. to the Queen, whose career, crowded with +brilliant service, cut short at its brightest, was born +at Lasswade on the 31st of December, 1818. He +went to India in 1836. Already distinguished in the +two Sikh wars, his conduct on the outbreak of revolt +in 1857 showed what a clear apprehension, a stout +heart, and a hopeful spirit could effect with scanty +means in crushing disorder. Called to Delhi as chief +engineer, his bold and ready judgment, his weighty +and tenacious counsels, played a foremost part in +securing the success of the siege and England's +supremacy. The gathered wisdom of many years +spent in administering the irrigation of Upper India, +trained him for his crowning service—the survey of +the great famine of 1861, the provision of relief, and +the suggestions of safeguards against such calamities. +Broken by accumulated labours, he died at sea, Dec. 13, +1861, aged scarcely 43 years. At Madras, where his +Indian career began, his body awaits the resurrection.'</p> + +<p>His great work, the <i>Report on Italian Irrigation</i>, +published with maps and plans in 1852, remains a +monument of his engineering ability. <span class="smcap">Colonel Baird +Smith</span> also published:—</p> + +<p> +(1) <i>Agricultural Resources of the Punjab.</i> London: +1849. 8vo.</p> + +<p>(2) <i>The Cauvery, Kistnah, and Godavery; being a +report on the works constructed on these rivers for the +Irrigation of the provinces of Tanjore, Guntoor, +Masulipatam, and Rajahmundry, in the Presidency of +Madras.</i> London: 1856. 8vo.</p> + +<p>(3) <i>A Short Account of the Ganges Canal, with a +description of some of the Principal Works.</i> 40 pp. +Thomason College Press, Roorkee: 1870. 8vo.—H </p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.</h2> + +<h3>HURRIED NOTICES OF INDIAN AFFAIRS.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>September, 1857.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>From the foundations of the earth, no case in +human action or suffering has occurred which could +less need or less tolerate the aid of artificial rhetoric +than that tremendous tragedy which now for three +months long has been moving over the plains of +Hindostan. What in Grecian days were called <i>aporreta</i> +(απορῥητα), things not utterable in human language +or to human ears—things ineffable—things to be +whispered—things to dream of, not to tell<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a>—these +things amongst high-caste Brahmims, and amongst the +Rajapoots, or martial race of heroes; have been the +common product of the passing hour.<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> Is this well? +Is this a fitting end for the mighty religious system +that through countless generations has overshadowed +India? Yes, it <i>is</i> well: it <i>is</i> a fitting end for that +man-destroying system, more cruel than the bloody +religions of Mexico, which, for the deification of the +individual, made hopeless Helots of the multitude. +Henceforward <span class="smcap">CASTE</span> <i>must</i> virtually be at an end. +Upon <i>caste</i> has our Bengal army founded a final treason +bloodier and larger than any known to human annals. +Now, therefore, mere instincts of self-preservation—mere +shame—mere fiery stress of necessity, will compel +our East India Directory (or whatsoever power +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>may now under parliamentary appointment inherit +their responsibilities) to proscribe, once and for ever, +by steadfast exclusion from all possibility of a martial +career—to ruin by <i>legal</i> degradation and incapacities, +all Hindoo pretensions to places of trust, profit, or +public dignity which found themselves upon high +caste, as Brahmins or Rajapoots. Yes, it <i>is</i> well that +the high-<i>caste</i> men, who existed only for the general +degradation of their own Hindoo race in humbler +stations, have themselves severed the links which +connected them with the glory (so unmerited for +<i>them</i>) of a nobler Western nationality. Bought +though it is by earthly ruin, by torment, many times +by indignities past utterance inflicted upon our dear +massacred sisters, and upon their unoffending infants, +yet for that very reason we must now maintain the +great conquest so obtained. There is no man living +so base—no, there is not a felon living amongst us, who +could be persuaded to repeat the act of the Grecian +leader Agamemnon—namely, to sacrifice his innocent +daughter, just entering the portals of life in its most +golden stage, on the miserable pretence of winning +a <i>public</i> benefit; masking a diabolical selfishness by +the ostentation of public spirit. Yet if some calamity, +or even some atrocity, <i>had</i> carried off the innocent +creature under circumstances which involved an advantage +to her country, or to coming generations, +the most loving father might gradually allow himself +to draw consolation from the happy consequences of +a crime which he would have died to prevent. Even +such a mixed necessity of feeling presses upon ourselves +at present. From the bloody graves of our +dear martyred sisters, scattered over the vast plains +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>of India, rises a solemn adjuration to the spiritual ear +of Him that listens with understanding. Audibly +this spiritual voice says: O dear distant England! +mighty to save, were it not that in the dreadful hour +of our trial thou wert far away, and heardest not the +screams of thy dying daughters and of their perishing +infants. Behold! for us all is finished! We from +our bloody graves, in which all of us are sleeping to +the resurrection, send up united prayers to thee, that +upon the everlasting memory of our hell-born wrongs, +thou, beloved mother, wouldst engraft a counter-memory +of everlasting retribution, inflicted upon the +Moloch idolatries of India. Upon the pride of <i>caste</i> +rests for its ultimate root all this towering tragedy, +which now hides the very heavens from India. Grant, +therefore, O distant, avenging England—grant the +sole commensurate return which to us <i>can</i> be granted—us +women and children that trod the fields of carnage +alone—grant to our sufferings the virtue and +lasting efficacy of a <i>lutron</i> (λυτρον), or ransom paid +down on behalf of every creature groaning under the +foul idol of caste. Only by the sufferance of England +can that idolatry prosper. Thou, therefore, England, +when Delhi is swept by the ploughshare and sown +with salt, build a solitary monument to us; and on +its base inscribe that the last and worst of the murderous +idolatries which plagued and persecuted the +generations of men was by us abolished; and that by +women and children was the pollution of caste cleansed +from the earth for ever!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Now let us descend into the circumstantialities +of the case, explaining what may have been obscure +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>to the general reader. By which term <i>general reader</i> +is meant, that reader who has had no reason for +cultivating any acquaintance whatever with India; +to whom, therefore, the whole subject is unbroken +ground; and who neither knows, nor pretends to +know, the merest outline of our British connection +with India; what first carried us thither; what +accidents of good luck and of imminent peril raised +us from a mere commercial to a political standing; +how we improved this standing by prodigious energy +into the position of a conquering state; prospered +rapidly by the opposition which we met; overthrew +even our European competitors, of whom the deadliest +were the French; pursued a difficult war with an able +Mahometan upstart, Hyder Ali—a treacherous and +cruel prince; next with his son, Tippoo Sahib, a still +more ferocious scoundrel, who, in his second war with +us, was settled effectually by one thrust of a bayonet +in the hands of an English soldier. This war, and +the consequent division of Tippoo's dominions, closed +the eighteenth century. About 1817 we undertook +the great Mahratta war; the victorious termination +of which placed us, after sixty years of struggle, in +the supreme rank amongst Indian potentates. All +the rest of our power and greatness accrued to us by +a natural and spontaneous evolution of consequences, +most of which would have followed us as if by some +magnetic attraction, had we ourselves been passive. +No conquering state was ever yet so mild and beneficent +in the spirit of its government, or so free +from arrogance in its demeanour. An impression +thoroughly false prevails even amongst ourselves, +that we have pursued a systematic course of usurpations, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>and have displaced all the <i>ancient</i> thrones of +Hindostan. Unfortunately for this representation, +it happens that all the leading princes of India whose +power and rank brought them naturally into collision +with ourselves, could not be ancient, having been +originally official dependants upon the great Tartar +prince, whose throne was usually at Agra or Delhi, +and whom we called sometimes the Emperor, or the +Shah, or more often the <i>Great Mogul</i>. During the +decay of the Mogul throne throughout the eighteenth +century, these dependent princes had, by continual +encroachments on the weakness of their sovereign, +made themselves independent rulers; but they could +not be older than the great Mogul Shah himself, who +had first created them. Now the Mogul throne was +itself a mere modern creation, owing its birth to +Baber, the great-grandson of Tamerlane. But Baber, +the eldest of these Tartar princes, synchronised with +our English Henry VIII. In reality, there was +nothing old in India that could be displaced by us; +at least amongst the Mahometan princes. Some +ancient Hindoo Rajahs there were in obscure corners, +but without splendour of wealth or military distinction; +and the charge of usurpation was specially +absurd, since we pre-eminently were the king-makers, +the king-supporters, the king-pensioners, in Hindostan; +and excepting the obscure princes just mentioned, +almost every Indian prince, at the time of our +opening business in the political line, happened to be +a usurper. We ourselves made the Rajah of Oude +into a king; we ourselves more than once saved the +supreme Shah (<i>i. e.</i> the Great Mogul) from military +ruin, and for many a year saved <i>him</i> and <i>his</i> from +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>the painful condition of insolvency. But all this is +said in the way of parenthesis. In another number, a +sketch of our Indian Empire, in its growth and early +oscillations, may be presented to the reader, specially +adapted to the use of those whose reading has not +lain in that direction. Now let us return to the +great domineering question of the hour—the present +tremendous revolt on the part of seventy or eighty +thousand men in our Bengal Presidency.</p> + +<p>This mutiny we propose to notice briefly but searchingly +under three heads—first, in its relation to the +mutineers themselves; next, in its relation to ourselves; +but, subdividing that question, we will assign +the second head to the consideration of its probable +bearing on our political credit and reputation; whilst +the third head may be usefully given to the consideration +of its bearing on our pecuniary interests, and +our means of effectual reparation for the ruins left +behind by rebellion, and by the frantic spasms of +blind destruction.</p> + +<p>First, then, let us look for a moment at this great +tumultuary movement, as it points more or less +obscurely to the ulterior purposes of the mutineers, +and the temper in which they pursue those purposes. +In a newspaper of Saturday, August 15, we observe +the following sentence introductory to a most unsatisfactory +discussion of the Indian revolt:—'The mutiny +in India, from the uninterrupted nature of its progress, +and its rapid spread through every considerable +station, shows a power of combination and determination +which has never before been given credit +for to the native Indian mind.' This passage is cited +by us, not for anything plausible in its views, but for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span>the singular felicity of contradiction which fortunately +it offers to every indication of the true disposable +ability that is now, or ever has been, at the service +of the insurgents. This, indeed, is rapidly becoming +of very subordinate importance; since the ablest +rebel, without an army, must be contemptible enough. +But with a view to the larger question—What quality +of opposition is ever likely to be brought into play +against us, not in merely military displays, but in +the secret organisation of plots and local tumults, +propagated over extensive provinces? Some degree +of anxiety is reasonable under any possible condition +of the army; and this being so, it is satisfactory to +observe, now in 1857, the same childishness and defect +of plan and coherent purpose as have ever characterised +the oriental mind. No foresight has been +exhibited; no concert between remote points; no +preparation; no tendency towards combined action. +And, on the other hand, it is most justly noticed by +a new London paper, of the same date—namely, the +<i>People</i>—that it is perfectly dazzling to the mind to +review over the whole face of India, under almost +universal desertion, the attitude of erectness and preparation +assumed by the scattered parties of our noble +countrymen—'everywhere' (says the <i>People</i>) 'driven +to bay, and everywhere turning upon and scattering +all assailants. From all parts is the same tale. No +matter how small the amount of the British force +may be, if it were but a captain's company, it holds +its own.' On the other hand, what single success +have the rebels achieved? Most valiant, no doubt, +they have shown themselves in hacking to pieces poor +fugitive women, most intrepid in charging a column +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>of infants. Else, what have they to show? Delhi is +the solitary post which they have for the moment +secured; but even that through the incomprehensible +failure of the authorities at Meerut, and not through +any vigour manifested by themselves. Any uneasiness +which still possesses the minds of close observers +fastens upon these two points—first, upon the disarmings, +as distinguished from the desertions; secondly, +upon the amount, and probable equipment, and supposed +route of stragglers. It is now said that the +mutiny has burned itself out from mere defect of +fuel; there <i>can</i> be no more revolts of sepoys, seeing +that no sepoys now remain to revolt; that is, of the +Bengal force. But in this general statement a great +distinction is neglected. Regiments once disarmed, +if also <i>stripped of their private arms</i>, whether deserters +or not, are of slight account; but the grave question +is this—how many of (say seventy) regiments have +gone off <i>previously</i> to the disarming. Even in that +case, the most favourable for <i>them</i> where arms are +secured, it is true that ammunition will very soon +fail them; but still their bayonets will be available; +and we believe that the East India infantry carry +swords. A second anxiety connects itself with the +vast number of vagrant marauding soldiers, having +power to unite, and to assail small detached stations +or private bungalows. Yet, again, in cases known +specially to ourselves, the inhabitants of such small +insulated stations had rapidly fortified the buildings +best fitted for defence. Already, by the 18th of +May, in a station not far from Delhi, this had been +effected; every native servant, male or female, had +been discharged instantly; and perhaps they would +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>be able to strengthen themselves with artillery. The +horrors also of the early murders at Delhi would be +likely to operate beneficially, by preventing what +otherwise is sure to happen—namely, the disposition +to relax in vigilance as first impressions wear off. +Considering, upon the whole, the amount of regiments +that may be assumed as absolutely disarmed and +neutralised; and, on the other hand, counting the +5000 and upwards of troops intercepted on their +route to Hong-Kong, and adding these to at least +25,000 of Queen's troops previously in the country, +counting also the faithful section of the Sikhs, the +Ghoorkas, and others that could be relied on, the +upshot must be, that at least 40,000 troops of the +best quality are scattered between the Hoogly and +the Sutlege (or, in other words, between Calcutta and +Loodiana<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a>). Beyond a few casual outrages on some +small scale, we hope that no more of bloody tragedies +can be <i>now</i> (August 25) apprehended. But we, that +have dear friends in Bengal, must, for weeks to come, +feel restless and anxious. Still, this is a great mitigation +of the horror that besieged our anticipations +six weeks ago.</p> + +<p>But, having thrown a glance at the shifting aspects +of the danger, now let us alight for a moment on the +cause of this dreadful outbreak. We have no separate +information upon this part of the subject, but we have +the results of our own vigilant observations upon +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>laying this and that together; and so much we will +communicate. From the first, we have rejected incredulously +the immoderate effects ascribed to the +greased cartridges; and not one rational syllable is +there in the pretended rumours about Christianising +the army. Not only is it impossible that folly so +gross should maintain itself against the unremitting +evidence of facts, all tending in the opposite direction; +but, moreover, under any such idle solution as this, +there would still remain another point unaccounted +for, and <i>that</i> is the frantic hatred borne towards ourselves +by many of the rebellious troops. Some of our +hollow friends in France, Belgium, &c., profess to read +in this hatred an undeniable inference that we must +have treated the sepoys harshly, else how explain an +animosity so deadly. To that argument we have a +very brief answer, such as seems decisive. The +Bengalese sepoy,<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> when most of all pressed for some +rational explanation of his fury, never once thought +of <i>this</i> complaint; besides which, it is too notorious +that our fault has always lain the other way. Heavily +criminal, in fact, we had been by our lax discipline; +and in particular, the following most scandalous +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>breach of discipline must have been silently connived +at for years by British authorities. Amongst the +outward forms of respect between man and man, there +is none that has so indifferently belonged to all +nations, as the act of rising from a sedentary posture +for the purpose of expressing respect. Most other +forms of respect have varied with time and with +place. The ancient Romans, for instance, never +bowed; and amongst orientals, you are thought to +offer an insult if you uncover your head. In this +little England of ours, who could fancy two stout men +curtseying to each other? Yet this they did, and so +recently as in Shakspere's days. To use his words, +they 'crook'd the pregnant hinges of the knee.' +Sometimes they curtseyed with the right knee singly, +sometimes with both, as did Romeo to the fiery +Tybalt. Many and rapid, therefore, were the changes +in ceremonial forms, at least with us, the changeable +men of Christendom; else how could it happen that, +two hundred and fifty years back, men of rank in +England should have saluted each other by forms +that now would be thought to indicate lunacy? And +yet, violent as the spirit of change might otherwise +be, one thing never changed—the expression of respect +between man and man by rising from their seats.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Utque viro sancto <i>chorus assurrexerit</i> omnis'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>is a record belonging to the eldest of days; and that +it belonged not to the eldest times only, but also to +the highest rank, is involved in a memorable anecdote +from the last days of Julius Cæsar. He, the mighty +dictator—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Yes, he, the foremost man of all this world'—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p><p>actually owed his assassination, under one representation, +to the burning resentment of his supposed +aristocratic hauteur in a public neglect of this very +form. A deputation of citizens, on a matter of +business, had found him seated, and to their immeasurable +disgust, he had made no effort even to +rise. His friends excused him on the allegation, +whether true or not, that at the moment he was +physically incapacitated from rising by a distressing +infirmity. It might be so: as Shakspere elsewhere +observes, the black silk patch knows best whether +there is a wound underneath it. But, if it were <i>not</i> +so, then the imperial man paid the full penalty of +his offence, supposing the rancorous remembrance of +that one neglect were truly and indeed what armed +the Ides of March against his life. But, were this +story as apocryphal as the legends of our nurseries, +still the bare possibility that 'the laurelled majesty'<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> +of that mighty brow should have been laid low by one +frailty of this particular description—this possibility +recalls us clamorously to the treasonable character of +such an insolence, when practised systematically for +the last eighteen months by a Pagan hound, by a +sepoy from Lucknow or Benares, towards his British +commanding officer. Shall it have been possible that +the founder of the Roman empire died for having +ignored the decencies of human courtesy, perhaps +through momentary inattention, by wandering of +thoughts, or by that collapse of energy which sometimes +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>steps between our earnest intentions and their +fulfilment—this man, so august, shall he have expiated +by a bloody death one fleeting moment of forgetfulness? +and yet, on the other hand, under our Indian +government, the lowest of our servants, a mass of +carrion from a brotherhood of Thugs, shall have had +free license to insult the leaders of the army which +finds bread for him and his kindred? That the reader +may understand what it is that we are talking of—not +very long ago, in one of the courts-martial +occasioned by some explosions of tentative insubordination +preliminary to the grand revolt, a British officer, +holding the rank of lieutenant, made known to the +court, that through the last twelve or eighteen +months he had been struck and shocked by one +alarming phenomenon within the cantonments of the +sepoys: formerly, on his entering the lines, the men +had risen respectfully from their seats as he walked +along; but since 1854, or thereabouts, they had +insolently looked him in the face, whilst doggedly +retaining their seats. Now this was a punishable +breach of discipline, which in our navy <i>would</i> be +punished without fail. Even a little middy, fresh +from the arms of his sisters or his nurse, and who +does not bear any royal commission, as an ensign or +cornet in the army, is thus supported in the performance +of his duty, and made respectable in the eyes of +his men, though checked in all explosions of childish +petulance—even to this child, as an officer in command, +respect is exacted; and on the finest arena of discipline +ever exhibited to the world, it is habitually +felt that from open disrespect to the ruin of all +discipline the steps of descent are rapid. This +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>important fact in evidence as to the demeanour of +the sepoy, throws a new light upon the whole revolt. +Manifestly it had been moulding and preparing itself +for the last two years, or more. And those authorities +who had tolerated Colonel Wheler for months, +might consistently tolerate this presumption in the +sepoy for a year.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We had, in reliance upon receiving fuller materials +for discussion by the Eastern mail <i>arriving</i> in the +middle of August, promised by anticipation two heads +for our review, which, under the imperfect explanations +received, we are compelled to defer. Meantime, +upon each of these two heads we shall point the +attention of our readers to one or two important facts, +First, as regards the sepoy revolt considered in relation +to the future pecuniary burdens on the Bengal +exchequer, it ought to be remembered, that, if +(according to a very loose report) the Company shall +finally be found to have lost twenty millions of +rupees, or two millions sterling, by the looting of +many local treasuries, it will, on the other hand, have +saved, upon forfeited pay, and (which is much more +important) upon, forfeited pensions, in coming years, +a sum nearly corresponding. Secondly, this <i>loot</i> or +plunder must have served the public interest in a +variety of ways. It must have cramped the otherwise +free motions of the rebels; must have given +multiplied temptations to desertion; must have instilled +jealousies of each other, and want of cordial +co-operation in regard to the current plans, and +oftentimes murderous animosities in regard to past +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>transactions—divisions of spoil, or personal competitions. +Thus far, if nothing had been concerned more +precious than money, it is by no means clear that the +<i>public</i> service (as distinct from the interest of private +individuals, whose property has been destroyed) will +be found to have very seriously suffered.</p> + +<p>The other head, which concerns the probable relation +of this astonishing revolt to the wisdom of our +late Indian administration, finds us, for the present, +enveloped in a mystery the most impenetrable that +history, in any of its darkest chapters, has offered. +We have a war on foot with Southern China, or +rather with Canton; and what may be the Chinese +object in that war, is hitherto an impenetrable +mystery. But darker and more unfathomable is the +mystery which invests the sepoy insurrection. Besides +the notorious fact that no grievances, the very slightest, +have been alleged, it must also be remembered +that we first and solely made a provision for the +invalided and for the superannuated soldier—a thing +unheard of throughout Asia. And this golden +reversion, the poor infatuated savages have <i>wilfully</i> +renounced! The sole <i>sure</i> result, from this most +suicidal of revolts, is—that unpitied myriads of +sepoys will be bayonetted, thousands will be hanged, +and nearly all will lose their pensions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.</h2> + +<h3>PASSING NOTICES OF INDIAN AFFAIRS.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>October, 1857.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>An English historian—one amongst many—of our +British India, having never happened to visit any +part of that vast region, nor, indeed, any part of the +East, founded upon that accident a claim to a very +favourable distinction. It was, Mr. Mill argued, desirable—it +was a splendid advantage—<span class="smcap">NOT</span> to have +seen India. This advantage he singly, amongst a +crowd of coming rivals and precursors, might modestly +plead; and to that extent he pretended to a precedency +amongst all his competitors.</p> + +<p>The whole claim, and the arguments which supported +it, wore the aspect of a paradox; and a paradox +it certainly was—but not, therefore, a falsehood. A +paradox, as I have many times explained, or proposition +contradicting the <i>doxa</i> or public opinion, not +only may be true, but often has been the leading +truth in capital struggles of opinion. Not only the +true doctrine, but also, in some branches of science, +the very fundamental doctrine, that which at this day +furnishes a foundation to all the rest, originally came +forward as a violent and revolting, paradox.<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> It is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>possible enough, therefore, that the Indian historiographer +may have been right, and not merely +speciously ingenious. It is something of a parallel +case, which we may all have known through the +candid admissions of the Duke of Wellington, that +the battle of Waterloo might by possibility have been +reported as satisfactorily, on the 18th of June, 1815, +from the centre of London smoke, as from the centre +of that Belgian smoke which sat in heavy clouds +throughout the day upon the field of battle. Now +and then, it is true, these Belgian clouds drew up +in solemn draperies, and revealed the great tragic +spectacle lying behind them for a brief interval. +But they closed up again, and what the spectator +saw through these fugitive openings would have +availed him little indeed, unless in so far as it was +extended and interpreted by <i>information</i> issuing from +the British staff. But this information would have +been not less material and effectual towards a history +of the mighty battle, if furnished to a man sitting +in a London drawing-room, than if furnished to a +reporter watching as an eye-witness at Hougoumont.</p> + +<p>This one Waterloo illustration, if thoughtfully +applied, might yield a justification for the paradoxical +historian. Much more, therefore, might it yield a +justification for us at home, who, sitting at ten +thousand miles' distance, take upon us to better the +Indian reports written on the spot, to correct their +errors of haste, or to improve them by showing the +inferences which they authorise. We, who write +upon the awful scenes of India at far-distant stations, +do not so truly enjoy <i>unequal</i> advantages, as we enjoy +varying and <i>dissimilar</i> advantages.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p> + +<p>According to the old proverb, the bystander sees +more of the game than those who share too closely in +its passions. And assuredly, if it were asked, what +it is that we who write upon Indian news aspire to +effect, I may reply frankly, that, if but by a single +suggestion any one of us should add something to the +illumination of the great sepoy conspiracy—whether +as to its ultimate purpose, or as to its machinery, or +as to its wailing hopes, or if but by the merest trifle +any one of us should take away something from the +load of anxious terrors haunting the minds of all who +have relations in India—that man will have earned +his right to occupy the public ear. For my own +part, I will not lose myself at present, when so much +darkness prevails on many leading questions, in any +views too large and theoretic for our present condition +of light. And that I may not be tempted into +doing so, I will proceed without regard to any +systematic order, taking up, exactly as chance or +preponderant interest may offer them, any urgent +questions of the hour, before the progress of events +may antiquate them, or time may exhale their flavour. +This desultory and moody want of order has its +attractions for many a state of nervous distraction. +Every tenth reader may happen to share in the +distraction, so far as it has an Indian origin. The +same deadly anxiety on behalf of female relatives, +separated from their male protectors in the centre of +a howling wilderness, now dedicated as an altar to +the dark Hindoo goddess of murder, may, in the +reader also, as well as in the writer on Indian news, +periodically be called on to submit to the insurmountable +aggravation of delay. In such a case, what is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span>good for one may be good for another. The same +inexpressible terrors, so long as Nena Sahibs and +other miscreant sons of hell are roaming through the +infinite darkness, may prompt the same fretfulness of +spirit; the same deadly irritation and restlessness, +which cannot but sharpen the vision of fear, will +sharpen also that of watching hope, and will continually +read elements of consolation or trust in that +which to the uninterested eye offers only a barren +blank.</p> + +<p><br /></p> +<h3>EUROPEANS.</h3> + +<p>I am not sorry that the first topic, which chance +brings uppermost, is one which overflows with the +wrath of inexhaustible disgust. What fiend of +foolishness has suggested to our absurd kinsmen in +the East, through the last sixty years, to generalise +themselves under the name of <i>Europeans</i>? As if +they were ashamed of their British connections, and +precisely at that moment when they are leaving +England, they begin to assume continental airs; +when bidding farewell to Europe, they begin to style +themselves <i>Europeans</i>, as if it were a greater thing +to take up a visionary connection with the Continent, +than to found a true and indestructible nobility upon +their relationship to the one immortal island of this +planet. There is no known spot of earth which has +exerted upon the rest of the planet one-thousandth +part of the influence which this noble island has +exercised over the human race—exercised through +the noblest organs; and yet, behold! these coxcombs +of our own blood have no sooner landed on Indian +soil, than they are anxious to disclaim the connection.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +Such at least is the <i>apparent</i> construction of their +usage. But mark the illogical consequences which +follow. A noble British regiment suddenly, and for +no rational purpose, receives a new baptism, and +becomes a European regiment. The apologist for +this folly will say, that a British regiment does not +necessarily exclude Germans, for instance. But I +answer that it <i>does</i>. The British Government have, +during this very month of September, 1857, declared +at Frankfort (in answer to obstinate applications +from puppies who fancy that we cannot tame our +rebels without <i>their</i> assistance), '<i>that the British +army, by its constitution, does not admit foreigners</i>.' +But suppose that accidents of aristocratic patronage +have now and then privately introduced a few +Germans or Swedes into a very few regiments, +surely this accident, improbable already, was not +<i>more</i> probable when the regiment was going away +for twenty years (the old term of expatriation) to a +half-year's distance from the Rhine and the Danube. +The Germanism of the regiment might altogether +evaporate in the East, but could not possibly increase. +Next, observe this; if we must lose our nationality, +and transmute ourselves into Europeans, for the very +admirable reason that we were going away to +climates far remote from Germany, then, at least, +we ought not to call our native troops <i>sepoys</i>, but +<i>Asiatics</i>. In this way only will there be any logical +parity of antithesis. Scripturally, we are the children +of Japheth; and, as all Asiatics are the sons of Shem, +then we shall be able to mortify their conceit, by +calling to their knowledge our biblical prophecy, that +the sons of Japheth shall sit down in the tents of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +Shem. But, thirdly, even thus we should find ourselves +in a dismal chaos of incoherences; for what is +to become of 'Jack'? Must our sailors be re-baptised? +Must Jack also be a <i>European</i>? Think of Admiral +Seymour reporting to the Admiralty as a leader of +Europeans! and exulting in having circumvented +Yeh by Her Majesty's European crews! And then, +lastly, come the Marines: must they also qualify for +children of Europe? Was there ever such outrageous +folly? One is sure, in the fine picturesque words of +Chaucer, that, 'for very filth and shame,' neither +admiral nor the youngest middy would disgrace +himself by such ridiculous finery from the rag-fair +of cosmopolitan swindling. The real origin of so +savage an absurdity is this:—Amongst the commercial +bodies of the three presidencies in all the +leading cities, it became a matter of difficulty often +to describe special individuals in any way legally +operative. Your wish was to distinguish him from +the native merchant or banker; but to do this by +calling him a British merchant, &c., was possibly not +true, and legally, therefore, not safe. He might be +a Dane, a Russian, or a Frenchman; he was described, +therefore, in a more generalising way, as a European. +But a case so narrow as <i>that</i>—a case for pawnbrokers +and old clothesmen—ought not to regulate the +usage of great nations. Grand and spirit-stirring +(especially in a land far <i>distant</i> from home) are the +recollections of towns or provinces connected with +men's nativities. And poisonous to all such ancestral +inspirations are the rascally devices of shroffs and +money-changers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h3>DELHI.</h3> + +<p>That man—I suppose we are all agreed—who +commanded in Meerut on Sunday the tenth day of +May, in the year of Christ one thousand eight +hundred and fifty-seven, a day which will furnish an +epoch for ever to the records of civilisation—that +man who <i>could</i> have stopped the bloody kennel of +hounds, but did <i>not</i>, racing in full cry to the homes +of our unsuspecting brothers and sisters in Delhi—it +were good for that man if he had not been born. +He had notice such as might have wakened the dead +early in the afternoon (2 or 3 o'clock <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>, I believe), +and yet, at the end of a long summer day, torchlight +found him barely putting his foot into the stirrup. +And why into the stirrup at all? For what end, on +what pretence, should he ever have played out the +ridiculous pantomime and mockery of causing the +cavalry to mount? Two missions there were to +execute on that fatal night—first, to save our noble +brothers and sisters at Delhi from a ruin that was +destined to be total; secondly, to inflict instant and +critical retribution upon those who had already +opened the carnival of outrage, before they left +Meerut. Oh, heaven and earth! heart so timid was +there in all this world, sense of wrong so callous, +as not to leap with frenzy of joy at so sublime a +summons to wield the most impassioned functions of +Providence—namely, hell-born destroyers to destroy +in the very instant of their fancied triumph, and +suffering innocence to raise from the dust in the very +crisis of its last despairing prostration. Reader! it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>is not exaggeration—many a heart will bear witness +in silence that it is <i>not</i>—if I should say that men +exist, who would gladly pay down thirty years of life +in exchange for powers so heavenly for redressing +earthly wrongs. To the infamous torpor on that +occasion, and the neglect of the fleeting hour that +struck the signal for delivery and vengeance, are due +many hundreds of the piteous outrages that have +since polluted Bengal. Do I mean that, if the rebel +capture of Delhi had been prevented, no subsequent +outrages would have followed? By no means. Other +horrors would have been perpetrated; but that first +and greatest (always excepting the case of Cawnpore) +would by all likelihood have been intercepted.<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a></p> + +<p>But perhaps his military means were inadequate to +the crisis? He had duties to Meerut, not less than +duties of vengeance and of sudden deliverance for +Delhi. True: he had so; and he had means for +meeting all these duties. He had a well-mounted +establishment of military force, duly organized in all +its arms. Three-and-twenty hundreds he had of +British, suitably proportioned as to infantry, cavalry, +and artillery—a little army that would have faced +anything that Delhi could at that time have put +forward. Grant that Delhi could have mustered 5000 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>men: these are three propositions having no doubtful +bearing upon such a fact:—</p> + +<p>1. That cheerfully would this little British force +have faced any Asiatic force of 5000 men, which, +indeed, it can hardly be necessary to say, in the face +of so large and so transcendent an experience.</p> + +<p>2. That the Delhi force, could have reached the +amount supposed of 5000 only after a junction with +the Meerut mutineers; which junction it was the +main business of the Meerut commander to intercept.</p> + +<p>3. That this computation assumes also the whole of +the Delhi garrison to be well affected to the mutineers; +an assumption altogether unwarrantable on +the <i>outside</i> of Delhi during the 10th and 11th of +May.</p> + +<p>Such were (1) the <i>motives</i> of the commander at +Meerut towards a noble and energetic resolution; +such were (2) his <i>means</i>.<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a></p> + +<p>Thinking of that vile <i>lacheté</i>, which surrendered, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>with a girl's tameness, absolutely suffered to lapse, +without effort, and as if a bauble, this great arsenal +and magazine into the hands of the revolters, involuntarily +we have regarded it all along as a deadly misfortune; +and, upon each periodic mail, the whole +nation has received the news of its non-capture as a +capital disappointment.</p> + +<p>But, on steadier consideration, apparently all this +must be regarded as a very great error. Not that it +could be any error to have wished for any course of +events involving the safety of our poor slaughtered +compatriots. That event would have been cheap at +<i>any</i> price. But that dismal catastrophe <i>having</i> happened, +to intercept that bitter wo having been already +ripened into an impossibility by the 11th and 12th of +May, seven-and-forty days before our thoughts at +home began to settle upon India, thenceforwards it +became a very great advantage—a supreme advantage—that +Delhi should have been occupied by the mutineers. +Briefly, then, why?</p> + +<p>First of all, because this movement shut up within +one ring fence the <i>élite</i> of the rebels (according to some +calculations, at least three-and-twenty thousand of +well-armed and well-disciplined men), that would +otherwise have been roaming over the whole face of +Bengal as marauders and murderers. These men, +left to follow their own vagrant instincts, would, it is +true, in some not inconsiderable proportion, have +fallen victims to those fierce reactions of rustic vengeance +which their own atrocities would very soon have +provoked. But large concentrated masses would still +have survived in a condition rapidly disposable as +auxiliary bodies to all those towns invested by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span>circumstances with a partisan interest, such as +Lucknow, Benares, Cawnpore, Agra, Gwalior, and +Allahabad.</p> + +<p>Secondly, Delhi it was that opened the horrors of +retribution; mark what chastisement it was that +alighted from the very first upon all the scoundrels +who sought, and fancied they could not fail to find, +an asylum in Delhi. It is probable that hardly one +in twenty of the mutineers came to Delhi without +plunder, and for strong reasons this plunder would +universally assume the shape of heavy metallic money. +For the public treasuries in almost every station were +rifled; and unhappily for the comfort of the robbers +under the Bengal sun of June and July, very much +of the East Indian money lies in silver—namely, +rupees; of which, in the last generation, eight were +sufficient to make an English pound; but at present +ten are required by the evil destiny of sepoys. Everybody +has read an anecdote of the painter Correggio, +that, upon finishing a picture for some monastery, +the malicious monks paid him for it in copper. The +day of payment was hot, and poor Correggio was +overweighted; he lay down under his copper affliction; +and whether he died or not, is more than I +remember. But doubtless, to the curious in Correggiosity, +Pilkington will tell. For the sepoys, although +<i>their</i> affliction took the shape of silver, and not of +copper, virtually it was not less, considering the far +more blazing sun. Mephistopheles might have +arranged the whole affair. One could almost hear +him whispering to each separate sepoy, as he stood +amongst the treasury burglars, the reflection that +those <i>pensions</i>, which the kind and munificent English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +Government granted to their old age or their infirmities, +all over India, raising up memorial trophies of +public gratitude or enlightened pity, never more +would be heard of. All had perished, the justice that +gave, the humble merit that received, the dutiful +behaviour that hoped; and henceforwards of them +and of their names, as after the earliest of rebellions, +in the book of life 'was no remembrance.'</p> + +<p>Under these miserable thoughts the vast majority +of the sepoys robbed largely, as opportunities continually +opened upon them. Then, and chiefly <i>through</i> +their robberies, commenced their chastisement in +good earnest. Every soldier by every comrade was +viewed with hatred and suspicion; by the common +labourer with the scrutiny of deep self-interest. The +popular report of their sudden wealth travelled +rapidly; every road, village, house, whether ahead or +on their flanks, became a place of distrust and anxious +jealousy; and Delhi seemed to offer the only safe +asylum. Thither, as to a consecrated sanctuary, all +hurried; and their first introduction to the duties of +the new home they had adopted, would be a harsh +and insolent summons to the chances of a desperate +<i>sortie</i> against men in whose presence their very souls +sank. On reviewing the circumstances which <i>must</i> +have surrounded this Delhi life, probably no nearer +resemblance to a hell of apostate spirits has ever +existed. Money, carried in weighty parcels of coin, +cannot be concealed. Swathed about the person, it +disfigures the natural symmetries of the figure. The +dilemma, therefore, in which every individual traitor +stood was, that, if he escaped a special notice from +every eye, this must have been because all his crimes +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>had failed to bring him even a momentary gain. +Having no money, he had no swollen trousers. For +ever he had forfeited the pension that was the pledge +of comfort and respectability to his family and his +own old age. This he had sacrificed, in exchange for—nothing +at all. But, on the other hand, if his +robberies had been very productive and prosperous, +in that proportion he became advertised to every eye, +indicated and betrayed past all concealment to every +ruffian less fortunate as a pillager. Delhi must in +several points have ripened his troubles, and showed +them on a magnifying disk. To have no confidential +friend, or adviser, or depositary of a secret, is an +inevitable evil amongst a population constitutionally +treacherous. But now in Delhi this torment takes a +more fearful shape. Every fifth or sixth day, when +he is sternly ordered out upon his turn of duty, what +shall he do with his money? He has by possibility +40 lbs. weight of silver, each pound worth about three +guineas. In the very improbable case of his escaping +the gallows, since the British Government will endeavour +to net the whole monstrous crew that have +one and all broken the <i>sacramentum militare</i>, for +which scourging with rods and subsequent strangulation +is the inevitable penalty, what will remain to his +poor family? His cottage, that once had been his +pride, will now betray him, as soon as ever movable +columns are formed, and horse-patrols begin to inspect +the roads. But, as to his money, in nineteen cases +out of twenty, he will find himself obliged to throw it +away in his flight, and will then find that through +three months of intolerable suffering he has only been +acting as steward for some British soldier.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<p>The private letters and the local newspapers from +many parts of India having now come in, it is possible +through the fearful confusion to read some facts that +would cause despair, were it not for two remembrances: +first, what nation it is that supports the +struggle; secondly, that of the six weeks immediately +succeeding to the 10th of September, no two days, no +period of forty-eight hours, <i>can</i> pass without continued +successions of reinforcements reaching Calcutta. It +should be known that even the worst sailers among +the transports—namely, exactly those which were +despatched from England through the course of <i>July</i> +(not of August)—are all under contract to perform +the voyage in seventy days; whereas many a calculation +has proceeded on the old rate of ninety days. +The small detachments of two and three hundreds, +despatched on every successive day of July, are already +arriving at their destination; and the August detachments, +generally much stronger (800 or 900), all +sailed in powerful steamers. Lord Elgin arrived at +Calcutta in time to be reported by this mail, with +marines (300) and others (300), most seasonably to +meet the dangers and uproars of the great Mahometan +festival. The bad tidings are chiefly these:—</p> + +<p>1. The failure of a night-attack upon the Dinapore +mutineers by detachments from two of our British +regiments, with a loss of '200 <i>killed</i>'; in which, however, +there <i>must</i> be a mistake; for the total number +of our attacking party was only 300. On the other +hand, there may have been some call for a consciously +desperate effort; and the enemy, having two regiments, +would muster, probably, very nearly 2000 +men; for the sepoy regiments are always strong in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>numbers, and these particular regiments had not +suffered.</p> + +<p>2. Much more ominous than these reports, is an +estimate of our main force before Delhi at less than +2000 men. This, unhappily, is not intrinsically +improbable. The force was, by many persons, never +reckoned at more than 6000 or 7000 men; and this, +when reduced by three-and-twenty conflicts (perhaps +more), in which the enemy had the advantage of +artillery more powerful than ours, and (what is worse) +of trained artillerymen more numerous, might too +naturally come down to the small number stated.</p> + +<p>3. The doubtful condition of Lucknow, Benares, +and Agra comes in the rear of all this to strike a +frost into the heart, or would do so, again I say, if +any other nation were concerned.</p> + +<p>4. Worse still, because reluctantly unfolding facts +that had previously been known and kept back, is +the state of Bombay. When retreats on board the +shipping are contemplated, or at least talked of, the +mere insulated case of Kolapore becomes insignificant.</p> + +<p>5. I read a depressing record in the very quarter +whence all our hopes arise. In summing up the +particular transports throughout July whose destination +was Calcutta, I find that the total of troops +ordered to that port in the thirty-one days of July +was just 6500, and no more. Every place was rapidly +becoming of secondary importance in comparison of +the area stretching with a radius of 150 miles in every +direction from the centre of Allahabad. And the +one capital danger is too clearly this—that, being +unable to throw in <i>overwhelming</i> succours, those +inadequate succours, matched against the countless +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>resources of Hindoo vagrant ruffianism, may, at the +utmost, enable us to keep a lingering hold, whilst +endless successions of incomparably gallant men fall +before our own rifles, our own guns, and that discipline +of a cowardly race which we ourselves have +taught. We are true to ourselves, and ever shall +be so: that is a rock to build upon. Yet, if it +should appear by January next that no deep impression +has then been made upon revolting India, it will +probably appear the best course to send no more +rivulets of aid; but to <i>combine</i> measures energetically +with every colony or outpost of the empire; to call +up even the marines and such sections of our naval +forces as have often co-operated with the land forces +(in the Chinese war especially); and to do all this +with a perfect disregard of money. Lord Palmerston +explained very sufficiently why it is that any powerful +squadrons of ships, which would else have rendered +such overwhelming succour against the towns along +the line of the Ganges and Jumna, were unhappily +disqualified for action, by the shallows and sand-banks +on those great rivers. But this apology does not +stand good as regards flotillas of gunboats or rafts +with a very light draught of water; still less as regards +the seamen and marines.</p> + +<p>I conclude with these notices—too painfully entitled +to some attention. Would to heaven they were <i>not</i>!</p> + +<p>1. Calcutta itself is not by any means in a state of +<i>security</i>, either in the English sense of that word +(namely, freedom from danger), or in its old Latin +sense of freedom from the <i>anxieties</i> of danger. All +depends upon the prosperity of our affairs at Delhi, +Lucknow, Agra, Cawnpore, and Allahabad. The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span>possibility of a fanatical explosion, such as that which +occurred recently at Patna, shows the inefficiency of +our precautions and pretended police. I believe that +the <i>native</i> associations formed in Calcutta will be of +little use. Either the members will be sleeping at +the moment of outbreak, or will be separated from +their arms. We are noble in our carelessness; our +enemy is base, but his baseness, always in alliance +with cunning and vigilance, tells cruelly against us.</p> + +<p>2. It may be feared that the Governor-General has +in the following point lamentably neglected a great +duty of his place. It must have been remarked +with astonishment, as a matter almost inexplicable, +how it has arisen that so many gallant men, at the +head of every regiment, should have suffered themselves +to be slaughtered like sheep in a butcher's +shambles. Surely five-and-twenty or thirty men, in +youthful vigour, many of them capital shots, could +easily have shot down 150 of the cowardly sepoys. +So much work they could have finished with their +revolvers. More than one amongst the ladies, in this +hideous struggle, have shot down their two brace of +black scoundrels apiece. But the officers, having the +advantage of swords, would have accounted for a few +score more. Why, then, have they not done this?—an +act of energy so natural to our countrymen when +thus roused to unforgiving vengeance. Simply because +they have held themselves most nobly, and in +defiance of their own individual interest, to be under +engagements of fidelity to the Company, and obligations +of forbearance to the dogs whom they commanded, +up to the last moment of possible doubt. Now, from +these engagements of honour the Governor-General +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span>should, by one universal act (applicable to the three +Presidencies) have absolved them. For it cannot be +alleged <i>now</i> for an instant, that perhaps the regiments +might mean to continue faithful. If they <i>do</i> mean +this, no harm will come to any party from the official +dispensing order; the sepoys could suffer by it only +in the case of treachery. And, in the meantime, there +has emerged amongst them a new policy of treason, +which requires of us to assume, in mere self-defence, +that <i>all</i> sepoys are meditating treason. It is this: +they now reserve their final treason until the critical +moment of action in the very crisis of battle. Ordered +to charge the revolters, they discharge their carbines +over their heads; or, if infantry, they blaze away +with blank cartridge. This policy has been played off +already eight or nine times; and by one time, as it +happens, too many; for it was tried upon the stern +Havelock, who took away both horses and carbines +from the offenders. Too late it is <i>now</i> for Bengal to +baffle this sharper's trick. But Bombay and Madras, +should <i>their</i> turn come after all, might profit by the +experience.</p> + +<p>3. For years it has been our nursery bugbear, to +apprehend a Russian invasion on the Indus. This, by +testimony from every quarter (the last being that of +Sir Roderick Murchison, who had travelled over most +of the ground), is an infinitely impossible chimera; +or at least until the Russians have colonized Khiva +and Bokhara. Meantime, to those who have suffered +anxiety from such an anticipation, let me suggest one +consolation at least amongst the many horrors of the +present scenes in Bengal—namely, that this perfidy +of our troops was not displayed first in the very +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>agony of conflict with Russia, or some more probable +invader.</p> + +<p>4. A dismal suggestion arises from the present +condition of Bengal, which possibly it is too late now +to regard as a warning. Ravaged by bands of +marauders, no village safe from incursion, the usual +culture of the soil must have been dangerously interrupted. +Next, therefore, comes <span class="smcap">Famine</span> (and note +that the famines of India have been always excessive, +from want of adequate carriage), and in the train of +famine, inaudibly but surely, comes cholera; and then, +perhaps, the guiltiest of races will pay down an +expiation at which centuries will tremble. For in +the grave of famishing nations treason languishes; +the murderer has no escape; and the infant with its +mother sleeps at last in peace.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>P.S.</i>—The following memoranda, more or less connected +with points noticed in the preceding paper, +but received later, seem to merit attention:—</p> + +<p>1. As to the strength of our army before Delhi, it +seems, from better accounts, to be hardly less than +5000 men, of which one-half are British infantry; +and the besieged seem, by the closest inquiries, to +reach at the least 22,000 men.</p> + +<p>2. Colonel Edwardes, so well known in connection +with Moultan, has published an important fact—namely, +that the sepoys <i>did</i> rely, in a very great +degree, upon the whole country rising, and that their +disappointment and despair are consequently proportionable.</p> + +<p>3. A great question arises—How it was possible +for the sepoys—unquestionably not harbouring the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>smallest ill-will to the British—suddenly and almost +universally to assail them with atrocities arguing +the greatest. Even their own countrymen, with all +their childish credulity, would not be made to believe +that they really hated people with whom they had +never had any but the kindest and most indulgent +intercourse. I should imagine that the solution must +do sought in two facts—first, in the deadly ennui and +<i>tædium</i> of sepoy life, which disposes them to catch +maniacally at any opening for furious excitement; +but, secondly, in the wish to forward the ends of the +conspiracy under Mahometan misleading. Hence, in +particular, the cruelties practised on women and +children: for they argued that, though the British +<i>men</i> would face anything in their own persons before +they would relax their hold on India, they would yet +be appalled by the miseries of their female partners +and children.</p> + +<p>4. It is most unfair, undoubtedly, to attack any +man in our present imperfect state of information. +But some neglects are unsusceptible of after excuse. +One I have noticed, which cannot be denied or varnished, +in Lord Canning. Another is this:—Had he +offered 10,000 rupees (£1000 sterling) for the head +of Nena Sahib, he would have got it in ten days, +besides inflicting misery on the hell-kite.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.</h2> + +<h3>SUGGESTIONS UPON THE SECRET OF THE MUTINY.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>January, 1858.</i>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>The first question arises upon the true originators, +proximate and immediate, of the mutiny—who were +they? This question ploughs deeper than any which +moves under an impulse of mere historic curiosity; +and it is practically the main question. Knowing +the true, instant, operative cause, already we know +something of the remedy;—having sure information +as to the ringleaders, we are enabled at once to read +their motives in the past, to anticipate their policy in +the future;—having the <i>persons</i> indicated, those who +first incited or encouraged the felonious agents, we +can shorten the course of public vengeance; and in +so vast a field of action can give a true direction from +the first to the pursuit headed by our Indian police. +For that should never be laid out of sight—that +against rebels whose <i>least</i> offence is their rebellion, +against men who have massacred by torture women +and children, the service of extermination belongs of +right to executioners armed with whips and rods, +with the <i>lassos</i> of South America for noosing them, +and, being noosed, with halters to hang them.<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> It +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>should be made known by proclamation to the sepoys, +that <i>de jure</i>, in strict interpretation of the principle +concerned, they are hunted by the hangman; and +that the British army, whilst obliged by the vast +scale of the outrages to join in this hangman's chase, +feel themselves dishonoured, and called to a work +which properly is the inheritance of the gallows; and +yet, again, become reconciled to the work, as the +purgation of an earth polluted by the blood of the +innocent.</p> + +<p>Who then, again I ask—who are those that, after +seven months' watching of the revolt, appeared, by +any plausible construction of events, to have been +the primal movers in this hideous convulsion? Individual +opinions on this question, and such as could +plead a weight of authority in regard to experience, to +local advantages for conjecture, and to official opportunities +for overlooking intercepted letters, there have +been many; and at first (say from May 10 to the end +of June), in the absence of any strong counter-arguments, +some of these were entitled to the full benefit +of their <i>personal</i> weight (such weight, I mean, as +could be drawn from the position or from the known +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>character of him who announced the opinion). But +now—namely, on the 15th of December (or, looking +to India, say the 10th of November)—we are entitled +to something weightier. And what <i>is</i> there which +generally would be held weightier? First, there are +the confessions of dying criminals;—I mean, that, +logically, we must reserve such a head, as likely to +offer itself sooner or later. Tempers vary as to obduracy, +and circumstances vary. All men will not +share in the obstinacy of partisan pride; or not, by +many degrees, equally. And again, some amongst +the many thousands who leave families will have +favours to ask. They all know secretly the perfect +trustworthiness of the British Government. And +when matters have come to a case of choice between +a wife and children, in the one scale, and a fraternity +consciously criminal, in the other, it may be judged +which is likely to prevail. What through the coercion +of mere circumstances—what through the entreaties +of wife and children, co-operating with such circumstances—or +sometimes through weakness of nature, +or through relenting of compunction—it is not to be +doubted that, as the cohesion of party begins rapidly +to relax under approaching ruin, there will be confessions +in abundance. For as yet, under the timid +policy of the sepoys—hardly ever venturing out of +cover, either skulking amongst bushy woodlands, or +sneaking into house-shelter, or slinking back within +the range of their great guns—it has naturally happened +that our prisoners have been exceedingly few. +But the decisive battle before Lucknow will tell us +another story. There will at last be cavalry to <i>reap</i> +the harvest when our soldiery have won it. The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span>prisoners will begin to accumulate by thousands; +executions will proceed through week after week; and +a large variety of cases will yield us a commensurate +crop of confessions. These, when they come, will tell +us, no doubt, most of what the sepoys can be supposed +to know. But, meantime, how much is <i>that</i>? +Too probably, except in the case of here and there +some specially intelligent or specially influential sepoy +officer, indispensable as a go-between to the non-military +conspirators moving in darkness behind the +rebel army, nothing at all was communicated to the +bulk of the privates, beyond the mere detail of movements +required by the varying circumstantialities of +each particular case. But of the ultimate purpose, +of the main strategic policy, or of the transcendent +interests over-riding the narrow counsels that fell +under the knowledge of the illiterate soldier, since no +part was requisite to the fulfilment of each man's +separate duty, no part would be communicated. It +is barely possible that so much light as may be won +from confessions, combined with so much further +light as may be supposed to lurk amongst the mass +of unexamined papers left behind them by the rebels +at Delhi, might tell us something important. But +any result to be expected from the Delhi papers is a +doubtful contingency. It is uncertain whether they +will ever be brought under the review of zeal united +to sagacity sufficient for sustaining a search purely +disinterested. Promising no great triumph for any +literary purpose, proving as little, perhaps, one way +or other, as the mathematician in the old story complained +that the <i>Æneid</i> proved—these papers, unless +worked by an enamoured bookworm (or paperworm), +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>will probably be confiscated to some domestic purpose, +of singeing chickens or lighting fires.</p> + +<p>But, in any case, whether speaking by confessions +or by the varied memoranda (orders to subaltern +officers, resolutions adopted by meetings, records of +military councils, petitions, or suggestions on the +public service, addressed to the king, &c.), abandoned +in the palace at Delhi, the soldier can tell no more +than he knew, which, under any theory of the case, +must have been very little. Better, therefore, than +all expectations fixed on the vile soldiery, whom, in +every sense, and in all directions, I believe to have +been brutally ignorant, and through their ignorance +mainly to have been used as blind servile instruments—better +and easier it would be to examine narrowly +whether, in the whole course and evolution of this +stupendous tragedy, there may not be found some +characterising feature or distinguishing incident, +that may secretly report the agency, and betray, by +the style and character of the workmanship, <i>who</i> +might be the particular class of workmen standing at +the centre of this unparalleled conspiracy. I think +that we stand in this dilemma: either, on the one +hand, that the miserable sepoys, who were the sole +acting managers, were also the sole contrivers of the +plot—in which case we can look for further light +only to the judicial confessions; or, on the other hand, +that an order of agents far higher in rank than any +subaltern members of our army, and who were enabled +by this rank and corresponding wealth to use +these soldiers as their dupes and tools, stood in the +background, holding the springs of the machinery in +their hands, with a view to purposes transcending by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>far any that could ever suggest themselves to persons +of obscure station, having no prospect of benefiting +by their own fullest success. In this case, we shall +learn nothing from the confessions of those who must, +upon a principle of mere self-preservation, have been +excluded from all real knowledge of the dreadful +scheme to which they were made parties, simply as +perpetrators of its murders and outrages. Here it is +equally vain to look for revelations from the mercenary +workers, who know nothing, or from the elevated +leaders, who know all, but have an interest of life +and death in dissembling their knowledge. Revelations +of any value from those who cannot, and from +those who will not, reveal the ambitious schemes +communicated to a very few, are alike hopeless. In +default of these, let us examine if any one incident, +or class of incidents, in the course of these horrors, +may not have made a self-revelation—a silent but +significant revelation, pointing the attention of men +to the true authors, and simultaneously to the final +purposes, of this mysterious conspiracy.</p> + +<p>Now, it has not escaped the notice of many people +that two most extraordinary classes of outrages, +perpetrated or attempted, have marked a very large +majority of the mutinous explosions; outrages that +were in the last degree unnatural, as out of harmony +with the whole temper and spirit of intercourse +generally prevailing between the sepoys and their +British officers. The case is peculiarly striking. No +reproach on the character of their manners was ever +alleged against their British officers by any section +or subdivision of the sepoy soldiery. Indeed, the +reproach, where any existed, ran in the very opposite +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>channel. Too great indulgence to the sepoy, a spirit +of concession too facile to their very whims and +caprices, and generally too relaxed a state of discipline—these +features it was of the British bearing +towards the native soldiery which too often, and +reasonably, provoked severe censures from the observing. +The very case<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> which I adduced some +months back, where an intelligent British officer, in +the course of his evidence before some court-martial, +mentioned, in illustration of the decaying discipline, +that for some considerable space of time he had +noticed a growing disrespect on the part of the +privates; in particular, that, on coming into the cantonments +of his own regiment, the men had ceased to +rise from their seats, and took no notice of his presence—this +one anecdote sufficiently exemplified the +quality of the errors prevailing in the deportment of +our countrymen to their native soldiery; and that it +would be ludicrous to charge them with any harshness +or severity of manner. Such being too notoriously +the case, whence could possibly arise the bloody carnage +by which, in almost every case, the sepoys +inaugurated, or tried to inaugurate, their emancipation +from British rule? Our continental neighbours +at first grossly misinterpreted the case; and more +excusably than in many other misinterpretations. +Certainly it was unavoidable at first to read, in this +frenzy of bloodshed, the vindictive retaliations of men +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>that had suffered horrible and ineffable indignities at +our hands. It was apparently the old case of African +slaves in some West Indian colony—St. Domingo, for +instance—breaking loose from the yoke, and murdering +(often with cruel torments) the whole households +of their oppressors. But a month dissipated these +groundless commentaries. The most prejudiced +Frenchman could not fail to observe that no sepoy +regiment ever alluded to any rigour of treatment, +or any haughtiness of demeanour. His complaints +centred in the one sole subject of religion; even as +to which he did not generally pretend to any certain +knowledge, but simply to a very strong belief or +persuasion that we secretly meditated, not that we +openly avowed or deliberately pursued, a purpose of +coercing him into Christianity. This, were it even +true, though a false and most erroneous policy, could +not be taxed with ill-will. A man's own religion, if +it is sincerely such, is that which he profoundly +believes to be the truth. Now, in seeking to inoculate +another with that which sincerely he believes to +be eminently the truth, though proceeding by false +methods, a man acts in a spirit of benignity. So that, +on all hands, the hellish fury of the sepoy was felt to +be unnatural, artificially assumed, and, by a reasonable +inference, was held to be a mask for something +else that he wished to conceal. But what? What +was that something else which he wished to conceal? +The sepoy simulated, in order that he might dissimulate. +He pretended a wrong sustained, that he might +call away attention from a wrong which he designed. +At this point I (and no doubt in company with +multitudes beside that had watched the case) became +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>sensible of an alien presence secretly intruding into +this pretended quarrel of the native soldier. It was +no sepoy that was moving at the centre of this feud: +the objects towards which it ultimately tended were +not such as could by possibility interest the poor, +miserable, idolatrous native. What was <i>he</i> to gain +by the overthrow of the British Government? The +poor simpleton, who had been decoyed into this +monstrous field of strife, opened the game by renouncing +all the vast advantages which he and his +children to the hundredth generation might draw +from the system of the Company, and entered upon a +career towards distant objects that for <i>him</i> have +absolutely no meaning or intelligible existence. At +this point it was that two enigmas, previously insoluble, +suddenly received the fullest explanation:—</p> + +<p>1. What was the meaning of that hellish fury +suddenly developed towards officers with whom previously +the sepoy had lived on terms of reciprocal +amity?</p> + +<p>2. What cause had led to that incomprehensible +enmity manifested, in the process of these ferocious +scenes, towards the wives and children of the officers? +Surely, if his wish were to eliminate their families +from the Indian territory, that purpose was sufficiently +secured by the massacre of him whose +exertions obtained a livelihood for the rest of the +household.</p> + +<p>It was tolerably certain that the widows and their +children would not remain much longer in the Indian +territory, when it no longer offered them an asylum +or a livelihood. Now, since personally, and viewed +apart from their husbands, these ladies could have no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span>interest for the murdering sepoys, it became more +and more unintelligible on what principle, steady +motive, or fugitive impulse, these incarnate demons +could persist in cherishing any feeling whatever to +those poor, ruined women, who, when their anchorage +should be cut away by the murder of their husbands, +would become mere waifs and derelicts stranded upon +the Indian shores.</p> + +<p>These had seemed at first two separate mysteries +not less hard to decipher than the primal mystery of +the mutiny itself. But now all became clear; whatsoever +might be the composition, or character, or +final objects of that tyranny which had decoyed the +sepoys under its yoke, one thing was certain—namely, +that the childishness and levity of the Hindoo sepoy +made it difficult in excess to gain any lasting hold +over his mind, or consequently to count upon his +lasting services. But to this general difficulty there +had now supervened one signal aggravation, in a +shape hateful to those who encountered it—namely, +the attractions of the British service, which service +would be no sooner abjured than it would be passionately +regretted. Here lay the rock which threatened +the free movement of the insurrection. It was +evidently determined by those who meant to appropriate +the services of the sepoys, that they should have +no retreat, no opening for recovering a false step, in +the well-known mercy of the British Government. +For <i>them</i> it was resolved that there should be no +<i>locus penitentiæ</i> left open. In order to close for ever +that avenue to all hope of forgiveness, the misleaders +of the soldiery urged them into those atrocities which +every nation upon earth has heard of with horror.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +The mere fact of these atrocities indicates at once the +overruling influence of such men as Nena Sahib, +determined to place a bar of everlasting separation +between the native army and that government which +might else have reclaimed the erring men, had their +offences lain within the reach of lawful forgiveness. +The conspirators having thus divorced the ruling +power, as they idly flattered themselves, from all +martial resources, doubtless assumed the work of +revolution already finished by midsummer-day of this +present year. And this account of the course through +which that attempted revolution travelled—according +to which, not the sepoys, who could have had no +ambition such as is implied in that attempt, but Indian +princes and rajahs, standing in the background, +were the true originators of the movement—finds +an indirect justification of its own accuracy in the +natural solution which it furnishes to those infernal +massacres, which else, as they must remain for ever +without a parallel, will also remain for ever without +an intelligible motive. These atrocities were exacted +from the sepoys by the conclave of princes as tests of +their sincerity. Such doubtless was the argument +for this exaction, the ostensible plea put forward to +the miserable reptiles who were seduced into this +treason, by the promise no doubt of sharing in the +fruits of the new and mighty revolution. Such pleas +were for the sepoy. But for himself and his own +secret benefit the princely seducer needed all that he +could obtain of such accursed acts, as the means sure +and sudden of making the separation between the +soldier and the government more and more irreparable.</p> + +<p>So much for the massacre of his officers: but a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span>different reason availed for the more diabolical outrages +upon women and their children. The murder +of the <i>men</i> was extorted from the sepoy as a kind +of sacrifice. With <i>them</i> the reptile had lived upon +terms of humanising intercourse; and, vile as he +was, in many cases this must have slowly ripened +into some mode of regard and involuntary esteem; so +that, in murdering the man, oftentimes a sepoy was +making a real (if trifling) sacrifice. But for females +he cared nothing at all. And in my opinion they +perished on a very different principle. The male +murders were levied as pledges for the benefit of the +princes, and very distinctly understood to be levied +<i>against</i> the wishes of the sepoy. But in the female +sacrifice all parties concurred—sepoy and prince, +tempted and tempter alike. I require you to murder +this officer, as a pledge of your real hostility (which +else might be a pure pretence) to the government. +But the murder of the officer's wife and child rested +on a motive totally different—namely, this:—Throughout +Hindostan no feature in the moral aspects of the +British nature could have been so conspicuous or so +impressive as the tenacity of purpose, the persistency, +and the dogged resolution never to relax a grasp once +taken. Consequently, had the <i>men</i> of our nation, +and they separately from the women, scattered themselves +here and there over the land (as they have +long done in China, for instance), then, perhaps, the +natives, when finding themselves in conflict with this +well-known principle of imperishable tenacity, would +be liable to a sentiment of despair, as in a contest +with fate. And that sentiment would paralyse the +Hindoos when entering upon a struggle for unrooting +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span>the British from Hindostan. But here suddenly, +Woman steps in to aid the Hindoo. For the Briton, +it is notorious, would never loosen his hold, more +than his compatriot the bull-dog. But that scene +which a man had faced steadily upon his own account, +he shrinks from as a husband or a father. Hence +the sepoy attacks upon women and children.</p> + +<p>From hurried writing, it is to be feared that I may +have done slight justice to my own views. Let me +conclude this head therefore by briefly <i>resuming</i>.</p> + +<p>The argument for tracing back the great conspiracy +to the discontented rajahs is—that otherwise, and +supposing the mutiny raised for objects specially +affecting the sepoys, they would <i>not</i> have massacred +their officers. <i>They</i> must have desired to leave an +opening for pardon in the event of failure. That +crime was exacted to compromise the native army +effectually with the government. But this in many +ways was sure to operate ruinously for the sepoy +interests, and could therefore have found a sufficient +motive only with the native princes.</p> + +<p>But the <i>female</i> sacrifice was welcome to all parties. +For no doubt they represented the British officer +as saying:—So long as the danger affected only +myself, I would never have relaxed my hold on India; +but now, when the war threatens our women and +children, India can no longer be a home for <i>us</i>.</p> + +<p>Another urgent question concerns the acts of the +Bengal Government. Many unfounded charges, as +in a case of infinite confusion and hourly pressure, +must be aimed at the Governor-General: the probability +of such charges, and the multiplied experience +of such charges, makes reasonable men cautious—in fact, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span>unduly so; and the excess of caution reacts +upon Lord Canning's estimation too advantageously. +Lord Dalhousie is missed; his energy would have +shown itself conspicuously by this time. For surely +in such a case as the negotiation with Bahadoor Jung +of Nepaul, as to the Ghoorkas, there can be no doubt +<i>at present</i>, though a great doubt, unfairly indulgent +to Lord Canning, was encouraged at first, that most +imbecile oscillation governed the Calcutta counsels. +And it is now settled that this oscillation turned +entirely upon a petty personal motive. A subordinate +officer had accepted the Nepaul offer, and by +that unauthorised acceptance had intruded upon the +prerogative of Lord Canning. The very same cause—this +jealous punctiliousness of exacting vanity, and +not any wish to enforce the severities of public justice—interfered +to set aside the proclamation of Mr. +Colvin at Agra. The insufficiency again of the steps +taken as to Nena Sahib speaks the same language. +In this very journal, full six weeks earlier than in +the Calcutta proclamation, the offer of a large sum<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> +for this man's head had been suggested. That offer +was never kept sufficiently before the public eye. +But a grosser neglect than this, as affecting the condition +of many thousands, and not of any single +villain, was the non-employment of the press in pursuing +the steps of the mutineers. Everywhere, as +fast as they appeared in any strength, brief handbills +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span>should have been circulated—circumstantially relating +their defeats, exposing their false pretences, +and describing their prospects. Once only the +government attempted such a service; and blundered +so far as to urge against the sepoys a reproach which +must have been unintelligible both to them and to +all native readers.</p> + +<p>Again, a question even more practical and instant +arises as to the modes of public vengeance.</p> + +<p>1. If, when finally defeated, and in a military sense +destroyed, on some signal field of battle, the mutineers +should fly to the hills in the great ranges, or +the jungle, the main fear would arise not from +<i>them</i>, but from the weak compromising government, +that would show itself eager to treat, and make what +the Roman law calls a <i>transactio</i>, or half-and-half +settlement with any body of sepoys that showed a +considerable strength. But, in such a case, besides +that the rebels, having now no Delhi, will have +scanty ammunition, our best resource would be found +in the Spanish bloodhounds of Cuba, which we British +used fifty years back for hunting down the poor negro +Maroons in Jamaica, who were not by a thousand +degrees so criminal as the sepoys.</p> + +<p>2. That no wrong is done to the Bengal Government +by this anticipation of an eventual compromise, +may be judged by the assertion (resting apparently +on adequate authority), that even at this hour that +government are making it a subject for deliberation +and doubt—whether the sepoys have forfeited +their pensions! Doubtless, the Delhi and Cawnpore +exploits merit good-service pensions for life!</p> + +<p>3. Others by millions, who come to these questions +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span>in a far nobler spirit, fear that at any rate, and with +every advantage for a righteous judgment, too many +of the worst sepoys laden with booty may find means +to escape. To these I would suggest that, after all, +the appropriate, worst, and most hellish of punishments +for hellish malefactors, is mortification and +utter ruin in every one of their schemes. What is +the thrust of a bayonet or the deepest of sabre-cuts? +These are over in a few moments. And I with others +rejoiced therefore that so many escaped from Delhi +for prolonged torment. That torment will be found +in the ever-rankling deadly mortification of knowing +that in all things they and their wicked comrades +have failed; and that in the coming spring, and +amongst the resurrections of spring, when all will be +finished, and the mighty storm will have wheeled +away, there remains for the children of hell only this +surviving consciousness—that the total result has +been the awakening of our Indian Government, and +the arming it for ever against a hideous peril, that +might else have overwhelmed it unprepared in an +hour of slumbering weakness. Such a game is played +but once; and, having failed, never again can it be +repeated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="354" id="ON_NOVELS"></a>ON NOVELS.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>Two pages written in a Lady's Album.</i><a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a>)</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>A false ridicule has settled upon Novels, and upon +Young Ladies as the readers of novels. Love, we are +told authoritatively, has not that importance in the +actual practice of life—nor that extensive influence +upon human affairs—which novel-writers postulate, +and which the interest of novels presumes. Something +to this effect has been said by an eminent +writer; and the law is generally laid down upon +these principles by cynical old men, and envious blue-stockings +who have outlived their personal attractions. +The sentiment however is false even for the present +condition of society; and it will become continually +<i>more</i> false as society improves. For what is the great +commanding event, the one sole revolution, in a +woman's life? Marriage. Viewing her course from +the cradle to the grave in the light of a drama, I am +entitled to say that her wedding-day is its catastrophe—or, +in technical language, its <i>peripeteia</i>: whatever +else is important to her in succeeding years has its +origin in that event. So much for <i>that</i> sex. For the +other, it is admitted that Love is not, in the same +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span>exclusive sense, the governing principle under which +their lives move: but what then are the concurrent +forces, which sometimes happen to coöperate with +that agency—but more frequently disturb it? They +are two; Ambition, and Avarice. Now for the vast +majority of men—Ambition, or the passion for personal +distinction, has too narrow a stage of action, its +grounds of hope are too fugitive and unsteady, to +furnish any durable or domineering influence upon +the course of life. Avarice again is so repulsive to +the native nobility of the human heart, that it rarely +obtains the dignity of a passion: great energy of +character is requisite to form a consistent and accomplished +miser: and of the mass of men it may be said—that, +if the beneficence of nature has in some +measure raised them <i>above</i> avarice by the necessity of +those social instincts which she has impressed upon +their hearts, in some measure also they sink <i>below</i> it +by their deficiencies in that austerity of self-denial +and that savage strength of will which are indispensable +qualifications for the <i>rôle</i> of heroic miser. A +perfect miser in fact is a great man, and therefore a +very rare one. Take away then the two forces of Ambition +and Avarice,—what remains even to the male +sex as a capital and overruling influence in life, +except the much nobler force of Love? History confirms +this view: the self-devotions and the voluntary +martyrdoms of all other passions collectively have +been few by comparison with those which have been +offered at the altar of Love. If society should ever +make any great advance, and man as a species grow +conspicuously nobler, Love also will grow nobler; +and a passion, which at present is possible in any +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>elevated form for one perhaps in a hundred, will then +be coëxtensive with the human heart.</p> + +<p>On this view of the grandeur which belongs to the +passion of Sexual Love in the economy of life, as it is +and as it may be, Novels have an all-sufficient justification; +and Novel-readers are obeying a higher and +more philosophic impulse than they are aware of. +They seek an imaginary world where the harsh hindrances, +which in the real one too often fret and +disturb the 'course of true love,' may be forced to +bend to the claims of justice and the pleadings of the +heart. In company with the agitations and the dread +suspense—the anguish and the tears, which so often +wait upon the uncertainties of earthly love, they demand +at the hands of the Novelist a final event +corresponding to the natural award of celestial wisdom +and benignity. What they are striving after, in short, +is—to realize an ideal; and to reproduce the actual +world under more harmonious arrangements. This is +the secret craving of the reader; and Novels are +shaped to meet it. With what success, is a separate +and independent question: the execution cannot prejudice +the estimate of their aim and essential purpose.</p> + +<p>Fair and unknown Owner of this Album, whom +perhaps I have never seen—whom perhaps I never +<i>shall</i> see, pardon me for wasting two pages of your +elegant manual upon this semi-metaphysical disquisition. +Let the subject plead my excuse. And believe +that I am, Fair Incognita!</p> + +<p> +Your faithful servant,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><span class="smcap">Thomas de Quincey.</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Professor Wilson's—Glocester Place, Edinburgh.</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>Friday night, December 3, 1830.</i></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="357" id="DE_QUINCEYS_PORTRAIT"></a>DE QUINCEY'S PORTRAIT.</h2> + +<p>The only one which can be considered satisfactory +is that of which a copy is prefixed to these Volumes. +It is from a steel engraving by Frank Croll, taken at +Edinburgh from a daguerreotype by Howie in 1850.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> own opinion of it is expressed to me +in the amusing letter which was published in <i>The +Instructor</i> (New Series, vol. vi. p. 145).</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p class="center">TO THE EDITOR OF <i>THE INSTRUCTOR</i>.<br /></p> + +<p><i>September 21, 1850.</i><br /></p> + +<p>My Dear Sir,—I am much obliged to you for communicating +to us (that is, to my daughters and myself) +the engraved portrait, enlarged from the daguerreotype +original. The engraver, at least, seems to have done +his part ably. As to one of the earlier artists concerned, +viz. the sun of July, I suppose it is not +allowable to complain of <i>him</i>, else my daughters are +inclined to upbraid him with having made the mouth +too long. But, of old, it was held audacity to suspect +the sun's veracity:—'Solem quis dicere falsum +audeat!' And I remember that, half a century ago, +the <i>Sun</i> newspaper, in London, used to fight under +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span>sanction of that motto. But it was at length discovered +by the learned, that Sun <i>junior</i>, viz. the +newspaper, <i>did</i> sometimes indulge in fibbing. The +ancient prejudice about the solar truth broke down, +therefore, in that instance; and who knows but Sun +<i>senior</i> may be detected, now that our optical glasses +are so much improved, in similar practices? in which +case he may have only been 'keeping his hand in' +when operating upon that one feature of the mouth. +The rest of the portrait, we all agree, does credit to +his talents, showing that he is still wide-awake, +and not at all the superannuated old artist that +some speculators in philosophy had dreamed of his +becoming.</p> + +<p>As an accompaniment to this portrait, your wish is +that I should furnish a few brief chronological memoranda +of my own life. <i>That</i> would be hard for me +to do, and <i>when</i> done, might not be very interesting +for others to read. Nothing makes such dreary and +monotonous reading as the old hackneyed roll-call, +chronologically arrayed, of inevitable facts in a man's +life. One is so certain of the man's having been born, +and also of his having died, that it is dismal to lie +under the necessity of reading it. That the man +began by being a boy—that he went to school—and +that, by intense application to his studies, 'which he +took to be <i>his</i> portion in this life,' he rose to distinction +as a robber of orchards, seems so probable, upon +the whole, that I am willing to accept it as a postulate. +That he married—that, in fulness of time, he was +hanged, or (being a humble, unambitious man) that +he was content with deserving it—these little circumstances +are so naturally to be looked for, as sown +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span>broadcast up and down the great fields of biography, +that any one life becomes, in this respect, but the +echo of thousands. Chronologic successions of events +and dates, such as these, which, belonging to the race, +illustrate nothing in the individual, are as wearisome +as they are useless.</p> + +<p>A better plan will be—to detach some single +chapter from the experiences of childhood, which is +likely to offer, at least, this kind of value—either +that it will record some of the deep impressions under +which my childish sensibilities expanded, and the +ideas which at that time brooded continually over my +mind, or else will expose the traits of character that +slumbered in those around me. This plan will have +the advantage of not being liable to the suspicion of +vanity or egotism; for, I beg the reader to understand +distinctly, that I do not offer this sketch as deriving +any part of what interest it may have from myself, +as the person concerned in it. If the particular experience +selected is really interesting, in virtue of its +own circumstances, then it matters not to <i>whom</i> it +happened. Suppose that a man should record a +perilous journey, it will be no fair inference that he +records it as a journey performed by himself. Most +sincerely he may be able to say, that he records it +not <i>for</i> that relation to himself, but <i>in spite of</i> that +relation. The incidents, being absolutely independent, +in their power to amuse, of all personal reference, +must be equally interesting [he will say] whether +they occurred to A or to B. That is <i>my</i> case. Let +the reader abstract from <i>me</i> as a person that by +accident, or in some partial sense, may have been previously +known to himself. Let him read the sketch +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span>as belonging to one who wishes to be profoundly +anonymous. I offer it not as owing anything to its +connection with a particular individual, but as likely +to be amusing separately for itself; and if I make +any mistake in <i>that</i>, it is not a mistake of vanity +exaggerating the consequence of what relates to my +own childhood, but a simple mistake of the judgment +as to the power of amusement that may attach to a +particular succession of reminiscences.</p> + +<p>Excuse the imperfect development which in some +places of the sketch may have been given to my +meaning. I suffer from a most afflicting derangement +of the nervous system, which at times makes it difficult +for me to write at all, and always makes me impatient, +in a degree not easily understood, of recasting +what may seem insufficiently, or even incoherently, +expressed.—Believe me, ever yours,</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Thomas de Quincey.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><br /></p> +<p>This letter was a preface to 'A Sketch from Childhood,' +of which the first and second parts appeared in +that Volume.</p> + +<p>After this came a blank of six months—a whole +Volume containing nothing. In Volume VIII. (January, +1852), 'A Sketch from Childhood' was resumed +with the following whimsical apology. It then ran +for five months consecutively:—</p> + +<p><br /></p> +<p class="center">(<i>January, 1852.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<p>I understand that several readers of my <i>Sketch +from Childhood</i> have lodged complaints against me for +not having pursued it to what they can regard as a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span>satisfactory close. Some may have done this in a +gentle tone, as against an irreclaimable procrastinator, +amiably inclined, perhaps, to penitence, though constitutionally +incapable of amendment; but others more +clamorously, as against one faithless to his engagements, +and deliberately a defaulter. Themselves they +regard in the light of creditors, and me as a slippery +debtor, who, having been permitted to pay his debts +by instalments—three, suppose, or four:—has paid +two, and then absconded in order to evade the rest. +Certainly to this extent I go along with them myself, +that, in all cases of a tale or story moving through +the regular stages of a plot, the writer, by the act of +publishing the introductory parts, pledges himself to +unweave the whole tissue to the last. The knot that +he has tied, though it should prove a very Gordian +knot, he is bound to untie. And, if he fails to do so, +I doubt whether a reader has not a right of action +against him for having wantonly irritated a curiosity +that was never meant to be gratified—for having +trifled with his feelings—and, possibly, for having +distressed and perplexed his moral sense; as, for +instance, by entangling the hero and heroine (two +young people that can be thoroughly recommended +for virtue) in an Irish bog of misfortunes, and there +leaving them to their fate—the gentleman up to his +shoulders, and the poor lady, therefore, in all probability +up to her lips. But, in a case like the present, +where the whole is offered as a <i>sketch</i>, an action would +not lie. A sketch, by its very name, is understood +to be a fragmentary thing: it is a <i>torso</i>, which may +want the head, or the feet, or the arms, and still +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span>remain a marketable piece of sculpture. In buying a +horse, you may look into his mouth, but not in +buying a <i>torso</i>: for, if all his teeth have been gone +for ten centuries, which would certainly operate in +the way of discount upon the price of a horse, very +possibly the loss would be urged as a good ground +for an <i>extra</i> premium upon the torso. Besides, it is +hard to see how any proper <i>end</i> could be devised for +a paper of this nature, reciting a few incidents, sad +and gay, from the records of a half-forgotten childhood, +unless by putting the child to death; for which +dénouement, unhappily, there was no solid historical +foundation.</p> + +<p>Right or wrong, however, my accusers are entitled +to my gratitude; since in the very fact of their +anger is involved a compliment. By proclaiming +their indignation against the procrastinating or +absconding sketcher, they proclaim their interest in +the sketch; and, therefore, if any fierce Peter Peebles +should hang upon my skirts, haling me back to work, +and denouncing me to the world as a fugitive from +my public duties, I shall not feel myself called upon +to contradict him. As often as he nails me with the +charge of being a skulker from work <i>in meditatione +fugæ</i>, I shall turn round and nail <i>him</i> with the +charge of harbouring an intense admiration for me, +and putting a most hyperbolical value upon my +services; or else why should he give himself so +much trouble, after so many months are gone by, in +pursuing and recapturing me? On this principle, I +shall proceed with others who may have joined the +cry of the accusers, obediently submitting to their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span>pleasure, doing my best, therefore, to supply a conclusion +which in my own eyes had not seemed +absolutely required, and content to bear the utmost +severity of their censure as applied to myself, the +workman, in consideration of the approbation which +that censure carries with it by implication to the +work itself.</p> + +<p><br /></p> +<p style="text-align:center;text-indent:0;">END OF VOLUME I.</p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>, <span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span>, and <span class="smcap">Macaulay</span> all died in +that year.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> This incident was a complicated contention, concerning the +copyright of <i>The Confessions</i>, in which <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span> had long +allowed his rights to lie dormant. It was at last happily settled +in an amicable manner.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>Objectively</i> and <i>subjectively</i> are terms somewhat too metaphysical; +but they are so indispensable to accurate thinking +that we are inclined to show them some indulgence; and, the +more so, in cases where the mere position and connection of the +words are half sufficient to explain their application.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> In general usage, '<i>The antique</i>' is a phrase limited to the +expression of art; but improperly so. It is quite as legitimately +used to denote the <i>literature</i> of ancient times, in contradistinction +to the modern. As to the term <i>classical</i>, though generally +employed as equivalent to Greek and Roman, the reader +must not forget this is quite a false limitation, contradicting the +very reason for applying the word in <i>any</i> sense to literature. +For the application arose thus: The social body of Rome being +divided into six classes, of which the lowest was the sixth, it +followed that the highest was the first. Thence, by a natural +process common to most languages, those who belonged to this +highest had no number at all assigned to them. The very +absence of a number, the calling them <i>classici</i>, implied that they +belonged to <i>the</i> class emphatically, or <i>par excellence</i>. <i>The +classics</i> meant, therefore, the grandees in social consideration; +and thence by analogy in literature. But if this analogy be +transferred from Rome to Greece, where it had no corresponding +root in civic arrangement—then, by parity of reason, to all +nations.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The beauty of this famous epigram lies in the <i>form</i> of the +conception. The first had A; the second had B; and when +nature, to furnish out a third, should have given him C, she +found that A and B had already exhausted her cycle; and that +she could distinguish her third great favourite only by giving +him both A and B in combination. But the filling up of this +outline is imperfect: for the A (<i>loftiness</i>) and the B (<i>majesty</i>) +are one and the same quality, under different names.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Because the Latin word <i>sublimis</i> is applied to objects +soaring upwards, or floating aloft, or at an aerial altitude, and +because the word does <i>sometimes</i> correspond to our idea of the +sublime (in which the notion of height is united with the +notion of moral grandeur), and because, in the excessive vagueness +and lawless latitudinarianism of our common Greek +Lexicons, the word ὑψος is translated, <i>inter alia</i>, by το <i>sublime</i>, +<i>sublimitas</i>, &c. Hence it has happened that the title of the +little essay ascribed to Longinus, Περι ὑψους, is usually rendered +into English, <i>Concerning the sublime</i>. But the idea of the +Sublime, as defined, circumscribed, and circumstantiated, in +English literature—an idea altogether of English growth—the +<i>sublime byway of polar antithesis to the Beautiful</i>, had no existence +amongst ancient critics; consequently it could have no +expression. It is a great thought, a true thought, a demonstrable +thought, that the Sublime, as thus ascertained, and in +contraposition to the Beautiful, grew up on the basis of <i>sexual</i> +distinctions, the Sublime corresponding to the male, the +Beautiful, its anti-pole, corresponding to the female. Behold! +we show you a mystery.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> No word has ever given so much trouble to modern critics +as this very word (now under discussion) of the <i>sublime</i>. To +those who have little Greek and <i>no</i> Latin, it is necessary in the +first place that we should state what are the most obvious +elements of the word. According to the noble army of etymologists, +they are these two Latin words—<i>sub</i>, under, and <i>limus</i>, +mud. Oh! gemini! who would have thought of groping for +the sublime in such a situation as that?—unless, indeed, it were +that writer cited by Mr. Coleridge, and just now referred to by +ourselves, who complains of frivolous modern readers, as not +being able to raise and sequester their thoughts to the abstract +consideration of dung. Hence it has followed, that most people +have quarrelled with the etymology. "Whereupon the late Dr. +Parr, of pedantic memory, wrote a huge letter to Mr. Dugald +Stewart, but the marrow of which lies in a nutshell, especially +being rather hollow within. The learned doctor, in the first +folio, grapples with the word <i>sub</i>, which, says he, comes from +the Greek—so much is clear—but from what Greek, Bezonian? +The thoughtless world, says he, trace it to ὑπο (hypo), sub, <i>i. e.</i> +under; but I, Ego, Samuel Parr, the Birmingham doctor, trace +it to ὑπερ (hyper), super, <i>i. e.</i> above; between which the difference +is not less than between a chestnut horse and a horse-chestnut. +To this learned Parrian dissertation on mud, there +cannot be much reasonably to object, except its length in the +first place; and, secondly, that we ourselves exceedingly doubt +the common interpretation of <i>limus</i>. Most unquestionably, if +the sublime is to be brought into any relation at all to mud, we +shall all be of one mind—that it must be found <i>above</i>. But to +us it appears—that when the true modern idea of mud was in +view, <i>limus</i> was not the word used. Cicero, for instance, when +he wishes to call Piso 'filth, mud,' &c. calls him <i>Cænum</i>: and, +in general, <i>limus</i> seems to have involved the notion of something +adhesive, and rather to express <i>plaister</i>, or artificially +prepared cement, &c., than that of filth or impure depositions. +Accordingly, our own definition differs from the Parrian, or +Birmingham definition; and may, nevertheless, be a Birmingham +definition also. Not having room to defend it, for the +present we forbear to state it.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> There is a difficulty in assigning any term as comprehensive +enough to describe the Grecian heroes and their antagonists, +who fought at Troy. The seven chieftains against Thebes are +described sufficiently as Theban captains; but, to say <i>Trojan</i> +chieftains, would express only the heroes of one side; <i>Grecian</i>, +again, would be liable to that fault equally, and to another far +greater, of being under no limitation as to time. This difficulty +must explain and (if it can) justify our collective phrase of the +Paladins of the Troad.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> 'To his own knowledge'—see, for proof of this, the gloomy +serenity of his answer to his dying victim, when, predicting his +approaching end:—</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Enough; I know my fate: to die—to see no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My much-lov'd parents, and my native shore,' &c. &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> On the memorable inaugural day of the Liverpool railroad, +when Mr. Huskisson met with so sad a fate, a snipe or a plover +tried a race with Sampson, one of the engines. The race continued +neck and neck for about six miles, after which, the snipe +finding itself likely to come off second best, found it convenient +to wheel off, at a turn of the road, into the solitudes of Chat Moss.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> The description of Apollo in wrath as νυκτι εοικω, like +night, is a doubtful case. With respect to the shield of +Achilles, it cannot be denied that the general conception has, +in common with all abstractions (as <i>e. g.</i> the abstractions of +dreams, of prophetic visions, such as that in the 6th Æneid, +that to Macbeth, that shown by the angel Michael to Adam), +something fine and, in its own nature, let the execution be what +it may, sublime. But this part of the <i>Iliad</i>, we firmly believe +to be an interpolation of times long posterior to that of Homer.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> But the <i>Odyssey</i>, at least, it will be said, is not thus +limited: no, not by its subject; because it carries us amongst +cities and princes in a state of peace; but it is equally limited +by the spirit of manners; we are never admitted amongst +women, except by accident (Nausicaa)—by necessity (Penelope)—or +by romance (Circe).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The other five were Homer, Virgil, Horace, Aristotle, Cicero.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Viz. the supposed dragging of Hector three times round +Troy by Achilles—a mere post-Homeric fable. But it is +ludicrous to add, that, in after years—nay, when nearly at the +end of his translation of the <i>Iliad</i>, in 1718—Pope took part in +a discussion upon Homer's reasons for ascribing such conduct to +his hero, seriously arguing the <i>pro</i> and <i>con</i> upon a pure fiction.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> 'In the steamboat!' Yes, reader, the steamboat. It is +clear that there <i>was</i> one in Homer's time. See the art. +<i>Phæacian</i> in the <i>Odyssey</i>: if it paid then, <i>à fortiori</i> six hundred +years after. The only point unknown about it, is the +captain's name and the state-cabin fares.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> 'In arts,' we say, because great orators are amongst his +heroes; but, after all, it is very questionable whether, simply +as orators, Plutarch would have noticed them. They were also +statesmen; and Mitford always treats Demosthenes as first lord +of the treasury and premier. Plutarch records no poet, no +artist, however brilliant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> 'Umbratic.' I have perhaps elsewhere drawn the attention +of readers to the peculiar effects of climate, in shaping the modes +of our thinking and imaging. A life of <i>inertia</i>, which retreats +from the dust and toil of actual experience, we (who represent +the idea of effeminacy more naturally by the image of shrinking +from cold) call a chimney-corner of a fireside experience; but +the Romans, to whom the same effeminacy more easily fell under +the idea of shrinking from the heat of the sun, called it an +experience won in the shade; and a mere scholastic student, +they called an <i>umbraticus doctor</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Yet this story has been exaggerated; and, I believe, in +strict truth, the whole case arose out of some fretful expressions +of ill-temper on the part of Burke, and that the name was a +retort from a man of wit, who had been personally stung by a +sarcasm of the offended orator.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> There was another Parliament of this same year 1642, which +met in the spring (April, I think), but was summarily dissolved. +A small quarto volume, of not unfrequent occurrence, I believe, +contains some good specimens of the eloquence then prevalent—it +was rich in thought, never wordy—in fact, too parsimonious +in words and illustrations; and it breathed a high tone of +religious principle as well as of pure-minded patriotism; but, +for the reason stated above—its narrow circuit and very limited +duration—the general character of the Parliamentary eloquence +was ineffective.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Επεα πτεροεντα, literally <i>winged words</i>. To explain the use +and origin of this phrase to non-classical readers, it must be +understood that, originally, it was used by Homer to express the +few, rapid, and significant words which conveyed some hasty +order, counsel, or notice, suited to any sudden occasion or +emergency: <i>e. g.</i> 'To him flying from the field the hero addressed +these winged words—"Stop, coward, or I will transfix +thee with my spear."' But by Horne Tooke, the phrase was +adopted on the title-page of his <i>Diversions of Purley</i>, as a pleasant +symbolic expression for all the non-significant particles, the +<i>articuli</i> or joints of language, which in his well-known theory +are resolved into abbreviations or compendious forms (and +therefore rapid, flying, <i>winged</i> forms), substituted for significant +forms of greater length. Thus, <i>if</i> is a non-significant particle, +but it is an abbreviated form of an imperative in the second +person—substituted for gif, or give, or grant the case—put the +case that. All other particles are shown by Horne Tooke to be +equally shorthand (or <i>winged</i>) substitutions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> It has been rather too much forgotten, that Africa, from +the northern margin of Bilidulgerid and the Great Desert, southwards—everywhere, +in short, beyond Egypt, Cyrene, and the +modern Barbary States—belongs, as much as America, to the +New World—the world unknown to the ancients.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> I might have mastered the philosophy of Kant, without +waiting for the German language, in which all his capital works +are written; for there is a Latin version of the whole, by Born, +and a most admirable digest of the cardinal work (admirable for +its fidelity and the skill by which that fidelity is attained), in +the same language, by Rhiseldek, a Danish professor. But this +fact, such was the slight knowledge of all things connected with +Kant in England, I did not learn for some years.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Those who look back to the newspapers of 1799 and 1800, +will see that considerable discussion went on at that time upon +the question, whether the year 1800 was entitled to open the +19th century, or to close the 18th. Mr. Laureate Pye wrote a +poem, with a long and argumentative preface on the point.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> This is only signed Z in <i>The London Magazine</i>, but is +clearly labelled '<span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>' in <span class="smcap">Archdeacon Hessey's</span> +marked copy.—H.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Mr. John Stuart Mill</span> in his <i>Principles of Political +Economy,</i> Book III chaps, i. and ii., makes some interesting and +appreciative remarks on De Quincey's settlement of 'the phraseology +of value;' also, concerning his illustrations of 'demand +and supply, in their relation to value.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> In a slight article on Mr. Malthus, lately published, I +omitted to take any notice of the recent controversy between +this gentleman—Mr. Godwin—and Mr. Booth; my reason for +which was—that I have not yet found time to read it. But, if +Mr. Lowe has rightly represented this principle of Mr. Booth's +argument in his late work on the Statistics of England, it is a +most erroneous one: for Mr. Booth is there described as alleging +against Mr. Malthus that, in his view of the tendencies of the +principle of population, he has relied too much on the case of +the United States—which Mr. Booth will have to be an extreme +case, and not according to the general rule. But of what consequence +is this to Mr. Malthus? And how is he interested in +relying on the case of America rather than that of the oldest +European country? Because he assumes a perpetual nisus in +the principle of human increase to pass a certain limit, he does +not therefore hold that this limit ever <i>is</i> passed either in the +new countries or in old (or only for a moment, and inevitably +to be thrown back within it). Let this limit be placed where +it may, it can no more be passed in America than in Europe; +and America is not at all more favourable to Mr. Malthus's +theory than Europe. Births, it must be remembered, are more +in excess in Europe than in America: though they do not make +so much positive addition to the population.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> This was the heading under which correspondence appeared +in <i>The London Magazine</i> at that date.—H.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> What other interpretation? An interpretation which makes +Mr. Hazlitt's argument coincide with one frequently urged +against Mr. Malthus—viz. 'that in fact he himself relies practically +upon <i>moral restraint</i> as one great check to Population, +though denying that any great revolution in the moral nature +of man is practicable.' But so long as Mr. Malthus means, by +a <i>great revolution</i>, a revolution in the sense which he imputes to +Mr. Godwin—to Condorcet, &c. viz. a revolution amounting to +absolute perfection, so long there is no logical error in all this: +Mr. Malthus may consistently rely upon moral restraint for +getting rid, suppose, of ninety cases out of every hundred which +at present tend to produce an excessive population, and yet +maintain that even this tenth of the former excess would be +sufficient, at a certain stage of population, to reproduce famines, +&c., <i>i. e.</i> to reproduce as much misery and vice as had been got +rid of. Here there is an absolute increase of moral restraint, +but still insufficient for the purpose of preventing misery, &c. +For, as soon as the maximum of population is attained, even +one single birth in excess (<i>i. e.</i> which does more than replace +the existing numbers)—<i>à fortiori</i>, then, one-tenth of the present +excess (though implying that the other nine-tenths had been +got rid of by moral restraint) would yet be sufficient to prevent +the attainment of a state of perfection. And, if Mr. Malthus +had so shaped his argument, whether wrong or right—he would +not have offended in point of <i>logic</i>: his logical error lies in supposing +a state of perfection already existing and yet as brought +to nothing by this excess of births: whereas it is clear that such +an excess may operate to prevent, but cannot operate to destroy +a state of perfection; because in such a state no excess could +ever arise; for, though an excess may co-exist with a vast +increase of moral restraint, it cannot co-exist with entire and +perfect moral restraint; and nothing less than <i>that</i> is involved +in the term 'perfection.' A perfect state, which allows the +possibility of the excess here spoken of, is already an imperfect +state. Now, if Mr. Hazlitt says that this is exactly what he +means, I answer that I believe it is; because I can in no other +way explain his sixth sentence—from the words 'but it is shifting +the question' to the end of that sentence. Yet again the +seventh sentence (the last) is so expressed as to be unintelligible +to me. And all that precedes the sixth sentence, though very +intelligible, yet seems the precise objection which I have stated +above, and which I think untenable. Nay, it is still less +tenable in Mr. Hazlitt's way of putting it than as usually put: +for to represent Mr. Malthus as saying that, 'if reason should +ever get the mastery over all our actions, we shall then be +governed <i>entirely</i> by our physical appetites' (which are Mr. +Hazlitt's words), would be objected to even by an opponent of +Mr. Malthus: why '<i>entirely</i>?' why more than we are at +present? The utmost amount of the objection is this:—That, +relying so much upon moral restraint <i>practically</i>, Mr. Malthus +was bound to have allowed it more weight <i>speculatively</i>, but it +is unreasonable to say that in his ideal case of perfection Mr. +Malthus has allowed no weight at all to moral restraint: even +he, who supposes an increased force to be inconsistent with Mr. +Malthus's theory, has no reason to insist upon his meaning a +diminished force.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> 'Where the error must lie'—<i>i. e.</i> to furnish a sufficient +answer <i>ad hominem</i>: otherwise it will be seen that I do not +regard either of the two propositions as essential to Mr. Malthus's +theory: and therefore to overthrow those propositions is not to +answer that theory. But still, if an author will insist on +representing something as essential to his theory which is not +so, and challenges opposition to it,—it is allowable to meet him +on his own ground.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> This is attached by the Editor of <i>The London Magazine</i>.—H.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Mr. J. R. McCulloch</span> in his <i>Literature of Political Economy</i> +makes the following observations concerning <span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> +'Dialogues of Three Templars on Political Economy':—They are +unequalled, perhaps, for brevity, pungency, and force. They not +only bring the Ricardian theory of value into strong relief, but +triumphantly repel, or rather annihilate, the objections urged +against it by Malthus, in the pamphlet now referred to and his +Political Economy, and by Say, and others. They may, indeed, +be said to have exhausted the subject.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Not so however, let me say in passing, for three supposed +instances of affected doubt; in all of which my doubts were, +and are at this moment, very sincere and unaffected; and, in +one of them at least, I am assured by those of whom I have +since inquired that my reviewer is undoubtedly mistaken. As +another point which, if left unnoticed, might affect something +more important to myself than the credit of my taste or judgment,—let +me inform my reviewer that, when he traces an +incident which I have recorded most faithfully about a Malay—to +a tale of Mr. Hogg's, he makes me indebted to a book which +I never saw. In saying this I mean no disrespect to Mr. Hogg; +on the contrary, I am sorry that I have never seen it: for I +have a great admiration of Mr. Hogg's genius; and have had +the honour of his personal acquaintance for the last ten years.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> <i>Plans for the Government and Liberal Instruction of Boys in +large Numbers; Drawn from Experience.</i> London: 1822. 8vo.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> The distinguishing excellence of the Madras system is not +that it lodges in the pupils themselves the functions which on +the old systems belong to the masters, and thus at the same +blow by which it secures greater accuracy of knowledge gets rid +of a great expense in masters: for this, though a great merit, is +a derivative merit: the condition of the possibility of this advantage +lies in a still greater—viz. in the artificial <i>mechanism</i> of +the system by which, when once established, the system works +itself, and thus neutralises and sets at defiance all difference of +ability in the teachers—which previously determined the whole +success of the school. Hence is obtained this prodigious result—that +henceforward the blessing of education in its elementary +parts is made independent of accident, and as much carried out +of the empire of <i>luck</i> as the manufacture of woollens or cottons. +That it is <i>mechanic</i>, is no conditional praise (as alleged by the +author before us), but the absolute praise of the Madras system: +neither is there any just ground of fear, as he and many others +have insinuated, that it should injure the freedom of the human +intellect.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> We have since found that we have not room for it; the case +is stated and argued in the Appendix (pp. 220-227); but in our +opinion not fairly argued. The appellant's plea was sound, and +ought not to have been set aside. [At the end of the Paper I have +restored this '<span class="smcap">Case of Appeal</span>' from the original work.—H.]</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> '<i>Premial</i> marks:' this designation is vicious in point of +logic: how is it thus distinguished from the less valuable?</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> 'Our punishments,' &c. This is inaccurate: by p. 83 +'disability to fill certain offices' is one of the punishments.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> 'Habits!' habits of what?</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> 'Performers!' <i>Musical</i> performers, we presume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Indeed an Etonian must in consistency condemn either the +Latin or the Greek grammar of Eton. For, where is the Greek +'<i>Propria quæ maribus</i>'—'<i>Quæ genus</i>'—and '<i>As in præsenti</i>'? +Either the Greek grammar is defective, or the Latin redundant. +We are surprised that it has never struck the patrons of these +three beautiful Idylls, that all the anomalies of the Greek +language are left to be collected from practice.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> On this point there is however an exception made, which +amuses us not a little. 'In a few instances,' says the Experimentalist, +'it has been found or supposed necessary to resent +insolence by a blow: but this may be rather called an assertion +of private right, than an official punishment. In these cases a +single blow has <i>almost</i> always been found sufficient, even the +rarity of the infliction rendering severity unnecessary.' He +insists therefore that this punishment (which, we cannot but +think, might have been commuted for a long imprisonment) +shall not be called a punishment, nor entered on the public +records as such: in which case however it becomes a private +'turn-up,' as the boxers call it, between the boy and his tutor.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> The details of the system in regard to the penal and premial +counters may be found from pp. 23 to 29. We have no room to +extract them: one remark only we must make—that we do not +see how it is possible to ascribe any peculiar and incommunicable +privileges to the premial as opposed to the penal counters, when +it appears that they may be exchanged for each other 'at an +established rate.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> This was written for <i>The Edinburgh Literary Gazette</i>, of +which sixty-one numbers appear to have been issued in 1829-30. +The paper is now so scarce, that the American publishers of +<span class="smcap">De Quincey's</span> works photographed their 'copy' from that +contained in the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh. There is a +file in the British Museum. I have not been able to authenticate +any other contribution from the pen of <span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>. This +letter deserves attention in various ways, but particularly for +the passage on Elleray—<span class="smcap">Christopher North's</span> home on the +banks of Windermere. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gordon</span> in the life of her Father, +<span class="smcap">Professor Wilson</span>, remarks:—'For a description of this beautiful +spot I gladly avail myself of the striking picture by Mr. +<span class="smcap">De Quincey</span>.'—H.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> The usual colloquial corruption of <i>Magdalen</i> in Ox. is +<i>Maudlin</i>; but amongst the very <i>lie dupeuple</i>, it is called +<i>Mallens</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> I coin this word <i>parvanimity</i> as an adequate antithesis to +<i>magnanimity</i>; for the word <i>pusillanimity</i> has received from +usage such a confined determination to one single idea, viz. the +defect of spirit and courage, that it is wholly unfitted to tie the +antipode to the complex idea of magnanimity.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> [In July, 1820.]</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Everywhere in the world, except in Scotland, by <i>moral</i> +philosophy is meant the philosophy of the will, as opposed to +the philosophy of the intellect; in Scotland only the word +<i>moral</i> is used, by the strongest abuse, as a comprehensive +designation of whatsoever is not <i>physical</i>; so that in the cycle +of knowledge, undertaken by the Edinburgh Professor of Moral +Philosophy, are included logic, metaphysics, ethics, psychology, +anthropology,—and, in one word, almost all human knowledge, +with the exception of physics and mathematics.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> <i>The Northmen in Cumberland and Westmoreland.</i> By +Robert Ferguson. Carlisle: Steel & Brother. London: +Longmans & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Writing at the moment in Scotland, where Christmas is +as little heard of, or popularly understood or regarded, as the +Mahometan festival of Beyram or the fast of Ramadan, I ought +to explain that, as Christmas Day, by adjournment from Lady +Day—namely, March 25—falls uniformly on December 25, it +happens necessarily that <i>Twelfth</i> Day (the adoration of the Magi +at Bethlehem), which is the ceremonial close of Christmas, falls +upon the 5th day of January; seven days in the old, five in the +new, year.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> +</p></div> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'And mighty Fairfield, with its chime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of echoes, still was keeping time.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><br /></span> +<span class="i5"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth</span>—<i>The Waggoner</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> It might seem odd to many people that a child able to run +alone should not have been already weaned, a process of early +misery that, in modern improved practice, takes place amongst +opulent families at the age of six months; and, secondly, it +might seem equally odd that, until weaned, any infant could be +truly described as 'rosy.' I wish, however, always to be punctiliously +accurate; and I can assure my readers that, generally +speaking, the wives of labouring men (for more reasons than +one) suckle their infants for three years, to the great indignation +of medical practitioners, who denounce the practice as six times +too long. Secondly, although unweaned infants are ordinarily +pale, yet, amongst those approaching their eighteenth or twentieth +month, there are often found children as rosy as any one +can meet with.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> I mean that they included the progressive or outward-bound +course, and equally the regressive or homeward-bound course, +within the compass of this one word διαυλος. We in England +have a phrase which conventionally has been made to supply +the want of such an idea, but unfortunately with a limitation to +the service of the Post-office. It is the phrase <i>course of post</i>. +When a Newcastle man is asked, 'What is the course of post +between you and Liverpool?' he understands, and by a legal +decision it has been settled that he is under an obligation to +understand—What is the <i>diaulos</i>, what is the flux and reflux—the +to and the fro—the systole and diastole of the respiration—between +you and Liverpool. What is the number of hours and +minutes required for the transit of a letter from Newcastle to +Liverpool, but coupled with the return transit of the answer? +This forward and backward movement constitutes the <i>diaulos</i>: +less than this will not satisfy the law as the complex process +understood by the <i>course of post</i>. Less than this is only the half +section of a <i>diaulos</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> <i>History of England from the Fall of Wolsey to the Death +of Elizabeth.</i> By James Anthony Froude, M.A., late Fellow +of Exeter College, Oxford. Vols. I. and II. London: Parker & +Son, West Strand. 1856.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> '<i>Ne forte</i>' is a case of what is learnedly called <i>aposiopesis</i> or +<i>reticentia</i>; that is, where (for the sake of effect) some emphatic +words are left to be guessed at: as Virgil's <i>Quos ego</i>——(Whom +if I catch, I'll——)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> '<i>Camisas</i>:' <i>i. e.</i> chemises; but at one time the word <i>camisa</i> +was taken indifferently for shirt or chemise. And hence arose +the term <i>camisado</i> for a night-attack, in which the assailants +recognised each other in the dark by their white shirt-sleeves, +sometimes further distinguished by a tight cincture of broad +black riband. The last literal camisado, that I remember, was a +nautical one—a cutting-out enterprise somewhere about 1807-8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> Anglo-Indian authorities seem to spell this word in four +different ways.—H.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> 'A sight to dream of, not to tell.'—<i>Coleridge.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Twenty-three and twenty-eight thousand of these two +orders we have in our Bengal army.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> '<i>Loodiana</i>:'—The very last station in Bengal, on going +westwards to the Indus. In Runjeet Singh's time this was for +many years the station at which we lodged our Affghan +pensioner, the Shah Soojah—too happy, had he never left his +Loodiana lodgings.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> For the sake of readers totally unacquainted with the +subject, it may be as well to make an explanation or two. The +East India regiments generally run to pretty high numbers—1000 +or 1200. The <i>high</i> commissioned officers, as the captain, +lieutenant, &c., are always British; but the <i>non-commissioned</i> +officers are always native Hindoos—that is, sepoys. For instance, +the <i>naïk</i>, or corporal; the <i>havildar</i>, or serjeant:—even of the +<i>commissioned</i> officers, the <i>lowest</i> are unavoidably native, on +account of the native private. Note that <i>sepoy</i>, as colloquially +it is called, but <i>sipahee</i>, as in books it is often written, does not +mean Hindoo or Hindoo soldier, but is simply the Hindoo word +for <i>soldier</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> '<i>The laurelled majesty</i>,' &c.:—A flying reference to a grand +expression—<i>majestas laurea frontis</i>—which occurs in a Latin +supplement to the <i>Pharsalia</i> by May, an English poet, contemporary +with the latter days of Shakspere.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> This truth, for the sake of making it more impressive, I +threw long ago into this antithetic form; and I will not scruple, +out of any fear that I may be reproached with repeating myself, +to place it once again on record:—'Not <i>that</i> only is strictly a +paradox, which, being false, is popularly regarded as true;' but +that also, and in a prodigiously greater extent, which, being +true, is popularly regarded as false.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Here observe there were 2300 admirable British troops, and +about 700 men of the mutineers, who might then have been +attacked at a great advantage, whilst dispersed on errands of +devastation. Contrast with these proportions the heroic exertions +of the noble Havelock—fighting battle after battle, with +perhaps never more than 1700 or 1800 British troops; and +having scarcely a gun but what he captured from the enemy. +And what were the numbers of his enemy? Five thousand in +the earlier actions, and 10,000 to 12,000 in the last.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> Mr. D. B. Jones comes forward to defend the commandant of +Meerut. How? The last sentence only of his letter has any +sort of reference to the public accusation; and this sentence +replies, but not with <i>any</i> mode of argument (sound or unsound), +to a charge perfectly irrelevant, if it had ever existed—namely, +an imaginary charge against the little army assembled on +May 10 at Meerut. The short and summary answer is, that no +such imaginary charge, pure and absolute moonshine, was ever +advanced against the gallant force at Meerut. +</p><p> +Secondly, if it had, such a charge could have no bearing +whatever upon that charge, loudly preferred against the commander +of that district. +</p><p> +Thirdly, the charge has been (I presume) settled as regards +its truth, and any grounds of disputation, this way or that, by +the Governor-General. The newspapers have told us, and have +not been contradicted, that Lord Canning has dismissed this +functionary for '<i>supineness</i>.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> '<i>To hang them:</i>'—But with a constant notification that, +<i>after</i> hanging, the criminals would be decapitated: otherwise +the threat loses its sting. It seems to be a superstition universal +amongst Southern Asiatics, unless possibly amongst the +Malay race, that to suffer any dismemberment of the body +operates disastrously upon the fate in the unseen world. And +hence, no doubt, it has arisen that the gallows is not viewed in +the light of a degrading punishment. Immunity from mutilation +compensates any ignominy which might else attend it. +Accordingly, we see in China that the innumerable victims of +the present rebellion, captured in the vast province of Quantung +by the cruel Yeh, were all beheaded by the sword in the blood-reeking +privacies of Canton. And two centuries back, when the +native dynasty was overthrown by the last Tartar invasion, the +reigning emperor (having unlimited freedom of choice) ended +his career by a halter: retiring to his orchard, he hanged both +himself and his daughter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> This case was entirely misapprehended by a journalist who +happened to extract the passage. He understood me to mean +that this particular mode of disrespect to their British officers +had operated as a <i>cause</i> of evil; whereas I alleged it simply as +an evidence and exponent of evil habits criminally tolerated +amongst the very lowest orders of our mercenary troops.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> And imperfectly as the offer was advertised, it seems to +have had considerable effect. Apparently it has extinguished +the Nena's power to show himself, and to move about with +freedom. He is now distrustful and jealous—often no doubt +with very little reason.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> This was published in <i>facsimile</i> from the Original MS. in +<i>The Archivist and Autograph Review</i>, edited by S. Davey, +F.R.S.L.—June, 1888. [H.]</p></div> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Uncollected Writings of Thomas de +Quincey--Vol. 1, by Thomas de Quincey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOMAS DE QUINCEY *** + +***** This file should be named 18862-h.htm or 18862-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/6/18862/ + +Produced by Robert Connal, Paul Good and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at +http://gallica.bnf.fr) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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