/ft 
 
RICHMOND ATHENUM PAPERS. 
 
 
SOME 
 
 OCCASIONAL PAPERS 
 
 READ AT THE 
 
 RICHMOND ATHENAEUM. 
 
 FOUNDED 1881. 
 
 Jiichmonb, <Surmi : 
 i'Ki\!i:i. \-.\ F:I\\ \i;i) rare, TIMI> GROAN PRIXTINO WORKS. 
 
 1886. 
 
fits 
 
 
 
NOTE BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 "XT OW that the Richmond Athenreum has secured a permanent 
 
 and dignified position, and attained fair proportions, it 
 
 has been felt by not a few of its Members that it might be 
 
 pleasant and profitable to secure in book form many of the 
 
 Papers which have been read. 
 
 It was at the same time justly thought that the Council 
 of the Richmond Atheiueum could not accept the financial 
 nsibility of such a step, consequently this initial volume of 
 "Occasional Papers" owes its origin to its Printer, who has also 
 acted as its Editor and Publisher. The Papers have been printed 
 in the order in which they have come to hand, and not in the 
 proper sequence of the dates of their reading, which will be 
 found at the end of each. 
 
 The present volume having already proved a success, it is 
 proposed that others shall follow from time to time. Particulars of 
 Publication may be obtained at the "Times" Steam Printing Works, 
 Richmond : but it will be convenient to add that the Editor 
 reserves to himself the right of returning any Paper thought 
 unsuitable f<r insertion. 
 
 1S80. 
 
 763858 
 
List of Papers and Authors. 
 
 II 
 
 The Use and Abuse of Charity : The Rev. ASTLEY COOPER ... 1 
 
 The Federation and Colonisation of the Empire : Sir J. WHITTAKKK 
 
 ELLIS, Bart., M.P l."> 
 
 Education ro-.^.s Cram : The Rev. L. M. D'OnsEY, M.A 29 
 
 The Craze for Cheapness : EDWARD KINC 39 
 
 The National Support of Volunteers: Acting-Surgeon W. A. F. BATKMAN 57 
 
 Novels : The Rev. C. F. COUTTS, M.A 73 
 
 The Present Chaotic Condition of Public Opinion : CHARLES AITKEN 95 
 
 The History of Epigram: CLIFFORD B. EDGAR 115 
 
 Flaws in the Education of Girls : EDWARD KING ... ... ... 129 
 
 Hospital Reform: Dr. ROBERTS LAW 145 
 
 Women and the State : Jons ASTLEY COOPER 159 
 
 The Study of Local History anil Antiquities : \V. LINDSAY ... 175 
 
 Burns' Sympathy with the Lower Creation: The Rev. JOHX MAUCHLEN 195 
 
 The Earlier Novels of Ueorge Eliot : CHARLES AITKEN 217 
 
 The Lunacy Laws : THOMAS SKi;wKs-Cox ... ... ... ... 233 
 
 Thomas Carlyle- the Man and the Writer: The Rev. ASTLEY COOPER 243 
 
 The Tenure and Transfer of Land : EDWARD HAWKS, M.A. ... 259 
 
 
 
 Charles Kingsley : P. E. PII. DITCH 273 
 
 Notes on Libraries and Books : FRANK PACY 289 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Mrs. Kfiidal at the Richmond Athenanun ... ... ... ... 306 
 
 Speeches at the Council Dinner, May 30th, 1885 311 
 
 Rules of the Athena-urn ...... 336 
 
The Use and Abuse of Charity" 
 
 !y the Rev. ASTLEY COOPER, Chaplain to Rickey's 
 Charity, and the Workhouse, Richmond. 
 
 HE subject upon which 1 have undertaken to 
 address you to-night, with a view of increasing 
 your intelligence and provoking a free and full 
 expression of opinion, is one that belongs pre- 
 iMiiinently to the departmetitof aocifi} ficietfwy.'It is a question 
 of tin- day : I am afraid it -will he a question tor many a day 
 far ahead. It is difficult wile ail c .>i 1 i;Jc\., : : Tt>is a question 
 which has so much to do with human nature that the 
 thought suggests itself that until that same human nature is 
 considerably changed, again and again shall we, and those 
 who conic after us, have to consider and re-consider, in order 
 to meet, and modify, and overcome ugly fact-. 
 
 The true uses of charity are not understood by the 
 majority- its abuses are admitted languidly and lazily, save 
 in instance^ where the shoe lias pinched the personal corn,' and 
 then there has been a flutter in the dovecot. A flutter, it may 
 be, and that is all. Then the calm of silence and the peace of 
 indifference. The world >ay> ' it don't matter," and society 
 regards the manner of life, the ways and doings of the poor, 
 the pauperised and the beggar as no business of its. The world 
 is mistaken, and society is at fault. This branch of social 
 science does belong to them. If they neglect it they must pay 
 for their negligence in manifold ways. If they study it, and 
 act according to their acquired knowledge, it will repay them 
 in manifold ways too. For instance, in the City of London 
 the parochial charities for general relief purposes amount to 
 
 B 
 
THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 54,000 a year. In the metropolis the annual income of the 
 charities amounts, it is said, to 3,000,000. In England the 
 endowed charities alone, exclusive of the large educational 
 charities, are estimated at considerably over 3,000,000 a year. 
 Is it possible that such sums of money can be spent without 
 affecting the characters of the recipients and forming an 
 element, a large element, of good or evil in the body 
 corporate ? 
 
 The practical difficulties connected with charities have 
 been the growth of ages, and will tax to the uttermost the 
 theoretical and active wisdom of our age to solve them. The 
 founders of them neither foresaw the growth of their bequests 
 nor the way in which men, women, and children would 
 multiply in this England of ours. It was easy enough to 
 handle a charity ' when its income -could be counted by tens or 
 hundreds, bv.t when those grow into thousands or tens of 
 thousands the case became changed. It was easy enough to 
 pitch upon the right persons to partake of its benefits when, 
 communities being small, everybody knew everybody, and 
 there was a common bond of sympathy and neighbourliness 
 linking each to each. But now we so swarm that the 
 individual is lost in the multitude ; and we are so busy and so 
 hard run that we have not even time to know ourselves, much 
 more anyone else. 
 
 We chatter, nod, and hurry by, 
 And never once possess our souls 
 Before we die, 
 
 as Matthew Arnold says. And so, to meet these little 
 difficulties with regard to our ancient, great, and endowed 
 charities the difficulty of a plethora of wealth the difficulty 
 of misdirection the difficulty of a perversion of intention 
 the difficulty of an idle or an inefficient guardianship the 
 difficulty of a loose method of keeping accounts the difficulty 
 of doing nothing and hindering others, after a stubborn and 
 an obstructive fashion, who would do something the wisdom 
 
THE USE AND ABUSE OF CHARITY. 3 
 
 of our modern legislation has called into existence a body of 
 gentlemen known by the name of " Chanty Commissioners." 
 With ancient corporations, who love cobwebs and 
 antiquity whose hearts are centred in the good old times 
 who have a veneration for monopolies who like silence and 
 darkness I need hardly say that these gentlemen are not 
 popular; nevertheless they exist, and to a very good purpose. 
 Who likes his territory to be invaded by a foreign foe ? None : 
 certainly none. But what if by and bye the foe should turn 
 out to be a friend ? Oh, the gratitude ! And I can assure you 
 that the curses showered upon Charity Commissioners at first 
 have been changed into blessings in many hundreds of parishes 
 in England ; and though their powers are too limited for real 
 effective work, in some very stony ground, yet we may well 
 trust the affairs of our bigger endowed charities in the hands 
 of a body of men far removed from pettiness, out of the reach 
 of corruption, business-like, firm, but courteous. Their powers 
 are all too limited to meet the requirements of reform, without 
 great delay and expense, in certain flagrant cases, as they have 
 not the legal right to coerce from themselves. At present 
 they can but advise and wait, and only in extreme cases 
 obtain an injunction against a corrupt charity from the Court 
 of Chancery. They are seeking enlarged powers to do enlarged 
 work, and it is to be hoped that Conservators of the ancient 
 will discriminate between the useful and the useless, between 
 the sweet and the fusty, between traditions which are wise to 
 preserve and those which it is folly to perpetuate, so as not to 
 hinder ;i gn-at commission from having legitimate power, 
 effective and equal to the worst of its work. There is a 
 spurious Conservatism as well as a spurious Liberalism, and 
 when Lord Salisbury emasculates (as he did last } r ear) a 
 useful Bill in the House of Lords in order to spite a 
 Government which is not his own, he shows the hands of 
 a partisan, unworthy of his great ability and services, and 
 not the wisdom of a statesman. 
 
THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 With the past labours of the Charity Commissioners I do 
 not propose to deal to-night, though a sense of gratitude might 
 dispose you, of Richmond, to listen to a few details, for they 
 have rendered you a little service in connection with certain 
 institutions of your own, by sweeping clean sundry places 
 which shall be nameless, which places had grown a little dirty 
 owing to the dearness of brooms, the costliness of whitewash, 
 the uncertainty of the Richmond water supply, the general 
 habits of the great unwashed, and, Mr. Maxwell would add, 
 the insufficiency of the sewage arrangements. Well, I must 
 tread tenderly here ; but living as I do in the neighbourhood 
 of one of these institutions I must express my gratitude for 
 the increased sweetness and light, and record my thanks for 
 favours past, which I regard as pledges for more favours yet to 
 come. 
 
 It is either a piece of authentic biography or a fable, 
 which I will not presume to determine, that once upon a time 
 a gentleman having a house to sell, and not being able to carry 
 about with him the complete structure, put a specimen brick 
 into his strong and capacious pocket, and whenever he met a 
 possible purchaser he introduced the subject uppermost in his 
 mind by the remark " I am not able to show you now and 
 here my house which I wish you to buy, but here is a specimen 
 brick ; all the others are equally good." And so, as I am not 
 able to night, for fear of being made a terrible example of 
 for long-windedness, to place before you the whole charity 
 structure, I shall exhibit to you three bricks one having the 
 mark Tramps ; a second, the designation Hospitals ; and a 
 third, the narrower title, and perhaps the more risky one for 
 my peace, of Parochials. 
 
 I introduce to you first of all the Tramp, because as a 
 social object he is becoming formidable ; he has become an 
 expensive pest ; he and his tribe are fast maturing into a caste ; 
 he is plaguing the life of Boards of Guardians, and our own 
 Guardians, led by Mr. Leycester-Penrhyn, have taken the 
 
THE USE AXD ABUSE OF CHAEITY. 
 
 animal by the collar and are studying him from toe to crown 
 with a view to his improvement and the interests of you 
 ratepayers. The genus tramp is well known to } 7 ou. His 
 piteous tale and whine, which on the slightest provocation 
 can be changed into abuse, garnished with expletives; his 
 slouching walk, his bundle, and his stick ; his clothes, which 
 never fit and are generally unsavoury ; his boots, which, by a 
 strange freak of nature, are always down at the heels ; his 
 assurance that he is a hard-working man, but that the fates 
 are in league against him ; his readiness to bless and his equal 
 readiness to curse. You are also acquainted with the lady 
 who walks by his side, or behind him, or before him, according 
 to arrangements, for the better accomplishment of the little 
 game immediately in hand, or to the sweetness or the reverse 
 of their temper, and whom he designates as the wife of his 
 bosom. Perhaps she is ; and perhaps she is not, worse luck. 
 With this draggle-tailed female, who is generally the most 
 voluble of the two, and upon whose breast is never to be seen 
 the adornment of the blue ribband, and who has seldom that 
 chi<'f of feminine graces, a meek and mild spirit, are to be seen 
 as their natural custodian, children, in numbers and ages 
 varying; and this gives the sad, dark background to the 
 picture. Those children are their chief and best stock-in- 
 trade ; through them they fill their net, but at the terrible cost 
 of their degradation and ruin. They are apprenticed to the 
 awful trade of their parents' lying, idleness, drunkenness, dirt, 
 I israse, profligacy, and hypocrisy; and like all devil's trades 
 it is too easily and too perfectly learned by them. It is for 
 the sake of these, the moral sake, seniors and juniors but 
 principally out of regard for the children that I ask you to 
 use thought and withhold your " pauperising doles of a merely 
 impulsive charity." Their name is legion. It is estimated 
 that there are 30,000 and moiv of these vagrants travelling 
 about this country of Kngland. Some of them may be, and 
 arc, men in search of work, but the majority are tramps pure 
 
6 THE KEV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 and simple ; and it is a lucrative business, for in addition to 
 being able to demand, under the Poor Law, shelter and food 
 for a night at a workhouse, the Chief Constable of Stafford 
 finds, on enquiry, *' that the average tramp picks up from 2s. to 
 2s. 6d. a day, with plenty of broken victuals." In order that 
 you may realise with greater clearness the magnitude of this 
 vagrant evil, I must trouble you with some statistics. To 
 begin at home. Last year i.e., from Michpelmas, 1881, to the 
 corresponding day in 1882, 7,127 tramps found shelter and 
 food in the Richmond Workhouse. From Christmas, 1881, to 
 Christmas, 1882, in the Brentford Union, 14,142, made up as 
 follows: Men, 9,655 ; women, 3,226; children, 1,261. In the 
 Kingston Union in 1880, 1-1,862; 1881, 16,763; and in 1882, 
 16,206. In the Dunstable Union, on the great north road, 
 over 10,000 in 1882. 
 
 The last Government Board report shows that the 
 number of casual paupers relieved in the vagrant wards of the 
 metropolis on the last day of each week during the year 1871 
 amounted to 41,254 men, 13,572 women, 3,616 children, in 
 all 58,142. In the year 1881 there was a total of 41,704, 
 composed of 30,930 men, 8,960 women, 1,814 children. The 
 average number relieved on the last day of each week during 
 the year was, in 1871, 1,138'8; in 1881, 802, which latter 
 figure may be considered as the average number of persons 
 admitted nightly into the metropolitan casual wards. The 
 Local Government Board, in their last report, say : 
 
 With regard to this comparatively small number (as they consider it), 
 it is due in some measure to the fact that many charitable institutions 
 in the metropolis supply, with only slight restrictions, what is needed by 
 the casual poor. The opening of such refuges in the depth of winter 
 naturally tends to the diminution of the number of applicants for relief in 
 the casual wards at that season. 
 
 From a return of tramps in the county of Gloucester- 
 it appears that on Tuesday, 4th April, 1882, there slept in 
 casual wards 171 persons, but in common lodging houses 553 
 persons. Of these 391 were males, 162 females (75 under 
 
THE USE AXD ABUSE OF CHARITY. 
 
 16 years of age). Of the above H7 were strangers and I :W 
 known as residents. Of the total 553, the statements of 
 4-24- with regard to their trades were believed to be true. 
 The statements of l'2 ( .) were believed to be the statements 
 of professional tramps. There is a further return of the 
 persons arrested for begging in the year 1881. There were 
 :>41 240 were convicted and 05 discharged. The total 
 amount of money found on them was 15 5s. 7Jd., or an 
 average of lOfd. each. Out of the 15 5s. 7-}d. found on 
 the whole of the beggars, 9 9s. lid. was found on one 
 person. Deducting this sum, the average amount found is 
 4! d. Eighty -one had food in their possession when arrested; 
 24<S tramps were convicted of stealing in the county. They 
 had found on them an average amount of 5|d. It is 
 found, taking the years 1878, 1879, 1880, and 1881, that 
 there are 400 per cent, more tramps in lodging houses in 
 Gloucestershire than in casual wards. 
 
 Enough of statistics. I am afraid you will think them 
 tedious ; but without them you could not form an intelligent 
 judgment upon the matter. I trust now that when I 
 designate this vagrancy business as a terrible social evil 
 you will acquit me of exaggeration. Now where is the 
 remedy for this to be found ? In Acts of Parliament in 
 part, and only in part. The main remedy rests, in my 
 judgment, with the public. The Local Government Board 
 have closed with the evil by a new and more stringent Act, 
 which is now in force, but you must not leave them to 
 wrestle with the evil alone. The limits of my time will 
 not allow me to give you the provisions of this Act, but 
 with regard to it I may be permitted to say that Mr. 
 Leycester-lVnrhyn, one of the oldest of your J.P.'s, and 
 a highly intelligent gentleman and guardian, says in a letter 
 to me : 
 
 Let it once IK> known that all tramps are provided with board 
 and lodging at night, and with a mid-day meal, all excuse for begging 
 
8 THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 will be done away with, whilst an honest carrying out of the Casual 
 Poor Act of last session will convince the tramp that it is better to 
 work every day for wages than alternate days for bare food and 
 lodging in separate cells in casual wards. 
 
 Just so. Mr. Penrhyn, as a magistrate and guardian, is 
 right; but the public must do their duty also by hardening 
 their hearts against the tramp's piteous false tale, and by 
 closing their hands against the supplies which do incalculable 
 harm and little good. The public must have the courage 
 of their opinions in this matter, and let neither pious 
 expressions, or threatening words, or evil looks soften or 
 frighten them into money, or food, or clothing gifts, which 
 they are apprised on reliable authority are full of present 
 evil, and go to perpetuate a class which is rapidly stiffening 
 into a caste, and may become one of the worst moral plagues 
 of the land. 
 
 I now turn for a few moments to Hospitals those 
 institutions which the Bishop of Oxford the other day 
 designated the " glory of our land." Yes, they are the 
 glory of our land, and being so it is a pity and a scandal 
 that their privileges and advantages are so abused, and 
 that they have become huge channels and instruments for 
 propagating mendicity. I can but touch the fringe of this 
 great subject, but that touch may arouse thought and 
 stimulate to greater care. Pardon me if I seem to scamp 
 my task here. The fact is, I know not how to tackle it 
 with five minutes at my disposal, and critics all around me 
 ready to assail for bad work. From the last edition of 
 Fry's Guide to the London Charities we learn that St. 
 George's Hospital, like many other charities, complains : 
 
 Our old supporters pass away, and their place is not proportionately 
 supplied. We have had to sell out 8,000 of our capital to meet the 
 current expenditure. 
 
 King's College Hospital is still worse off for new subscribers, 
 and foresees that its invested funds (of which 9,500 have 
 
THE USE AND ABUSE OF CHARITY. 9 
 
 had to be sold out) will soon be exhausted. The authorities 
 of Westminster Hospital, in like manner, say : 
 
 As old friends drop off they are not replaced. Last year the 
 Governors had to sell out 4,000, and it will not take long to dispose of 
 the whole of our available funds. 
 
 And University College Hospital was short of six thousand 
 pounds last year to meet its current expenses. These are 
 disagreeable facts. Why have they become facts at all ? 
 Many causes may have led up to the mischief. For instance, 
 Hospital Sunday, which gives the mean a chance of dropping 
 a shilling into the church bag instead of handing twenty to 
 the collector ; the increased expenditure per patient for 
 working hospitals ; the greater quantity of hospitals to 
 support, local and central ; the comparative badness of the 
 times. Admit this ; but this is not all. I am informed 
 and my informant is no less a person than the secretary to 
 the Charity Organisation Society that in the public mind 
 there is an uneasy feeling that these noble institutions are 
 too shamefully abused by multitudes who could and who 
 should pay for medical knowledge and surgical skill. I love 
 hospitals, and have been connected with them and have 
 worked for them, heart and soul, during the whole of my 
 clerical life, but I do not profess to be an expert on their 
 abuses, and so if you will allow me I will quote from a 
 paper by Sir Charles Trevelyan on " Metropolitan Medical 
 Relief," read in 1879, at a conference by the Charity 
 Organisation Society, presided over by Dr. Acland. Sir 
 Charles says : 
 
 Dr. Meadows and five other medical men, experienced in the work 
 of London hospitals, recorded their opinion, in 1870, that "the probable 
 income of half the number of out-patients may be estimated at from 1 
 to 1 10s. per week, and of one-fourth at more than this." In 1874 a 
 thorough investigation was made into the social position of the out- 
 patients of the Royal Free Hospital, and they were reported to be 
 divisible into two sections : 1st, Those who might reasonably be expected 
 to pay something for their medical relief ; and 2ndly, Those who ought to 
 
10 THE EEV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 be referred to the Poor Law. ... . This abuse of medical 
 charity is largely promoted by the practice of issuing subscribers' letters, 
 which are too often distributed without proper inquiry, or given avowedly 
 as a matter of personal favour ; and many employers contribute to 
 hospitals with the object of providing medical assistance for their servants 
 and workmen at a cheap rate, so that men with two or three pounds a 
 Aveek expect to be furnished with "letters" to the neighbouring 
 institutions for themselves and their families, and are thus relieved from 
 the necessity of joining benefit societies and provident dispensaries. 
 This is the true explanation of the lamentable appeals constantly made 
 to save our medical institutions from insolvency. No funds that could 
 be subscribed would overtake the emergency, because the gratuitous 
 medical treatment of the entire working class, and of a considerable 
 margin of the lower middle class, is a greater burden than private charity 
 can bear, and the pressure is continually 011 the increase, as additional 
 numbers become habituated to dependence. 
 
 To hundreds of thousands this system of medical relief is the 
 entrance-gate to those habits of dependence for which our London 
 population is unhappily distinguished beyond the rest of their countrymen. 
 Everyone stands in need of medical assistance at some time or other, 
 while in family life it is a matter of frequent occurrence, so that, by the 
 general application of the eleemosynary principle to our London hospitals 
 and dispensaries, they have been converted into schools of pauperism. 
 Our people are educated by them to improvident and mendicant habits, 
 being entirely relieved, as regards this requirement of civilised life, from 
 all necessity for forethought and thrift. Subscribers' letters are specially 
 conducive to fraudulent mendicity. Women collect them by begging from 
 house to house, under pretence of wanting them for their own use ; they 
 beg at other houses on the evidence of the distress which the " letters " 
 are supposed to afford ; and, after all, they sell them, for they have a 
 marketable value, which ought to go in aid of the expenses of the 
 institutions. All the arts of deception nourish in connection with 
 misapplied charity. Mr. W. H. Smith stated that 20 per cent, of cases 
 selected by him tor investigation from among the out-patients at a large 
 hospital "had given false addresses, so that it was impossible to trace 
 them." 
 
 As time is precious, and as this quotation illustrates the 
 point in hand and reads to the public a solemn lesson, I 
 may with propriety close this part of my subject and turn 
 to my third brick, labelled Parochials. 
 
THE USE AND ABUSE OF CHARITY. 11 
 
 Every parish in England, or nearly so, has its charitable 
 funds and its charitable organizations and machinery. If in 
 one town there is more than one parish then there begins 
 a rivalry (friendly it may be) which shall do most for the 
 p<><>r. Congregations do not like to be outdone each by the 
 other, and Nonconformity steps in to do its part with the 
 members of the Establishment. In theory this looks right 
 enough. We stand at a respectful distance and admire this 
 beautiful pyramid of benevolence with the sweet face of 
 Charity smiling upon us. We cannot but admire so long- 
 as our gaze is superficial. Of course we think it must do 
 a great deal of good and make everyone extremely happy, 
 virtuous, and contented. But how go the facts ? It is 
 notorious that the parishes richest in charities have within 
 them the most demoralised poor, as a rule. Destroy 
 independence of spirit, take away the motives for thrift, 
 pauperise by doles, let it be understood that if a man 
 works or not his wife and family will be kept, then if you 
 care for the moral welfare of the people your charities, or 
 some of them, would be better at the bottom of the sea. 
 Religious people of all creeds and churches would be none 
 the worse if they had a little more common sense and 
 worldly wisdom ; if they had more of the gift which 
 enables them to take trouble ; if they had more of that 
 prescience which gives them the capacity to comprehend 
 that shillings and half-crowns which find their way from 
 the altars of God through dirty hands to public houses to 
 (juencli < lee-fitful tongues are, after all, but devil's counters. 
 This is strong language, and I mean it to be. I shudder 
 with horror at the mischief which the professors of religion 
 are doing to the poor from the want of thought and the 
 want of intelligence. I have, and have had for years, 
 exceptional opportunities for studying the poor, and I know 
 you have l>een working amongst them these years largely 
 wit! i the wroni;- tools. 1 would, if I could, sever the 
 
12 THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 teaching of religion from eleemosynary gifts as much as 
 possible. People should not go amongst the poor with a 
 tract in one hand and a shilling in the other. There should 
 be no bribe for churchgoing or chapelgoing. An extra 
 amount of cant should not be able to extract an extra 
 shilling. Amongst the clergy I am not alone in this 
 opinion. Hear what the Hon. and Rev. W. H. Freemantle, 
 of St. Mary's, Bryanston Square, says : 
 
 The thing of most importance is that relief should not be given 
 at visits paid by the clergy, or agents, or visitors, for what I may call 
 pastoral purposes. It is almost impossible that a correct judgment 
 should be formed under such circumstances. . . . The effect 
 upon poor persons also of relief given in this way is very pernicious. 
 
 Hear also what the present Bishop of London, when Rector 
 of St. James', Piccadilly, said to his district visitors : 
 
 On no account should it (the ostensible reason, for calling) appear 
 to be to see whether any relief is wanted. When a visitor is looked 
 upon only as a person from whom something is to be got the visit is 
 worse than useless. For this reason, as well as to avoid imposition, 
 no visitor should give relief to a family for the first three visits ; but 
 if relief appears needful the case should be reported to the clergyman 
 of the district. Except in sickness it is better on all accounts to leave 
 the improvident, reckless, or intemperate to the relief which the law 
 provides for them. 
 
 These seem to be cold words ; nevertheless, they are wise 
 words. What the poor want are friends and helpers, and 
 those who keep them hovering upon the verge of poverty are 
 neither. They are only friends and helpers who develope 
 within them manliness and womanliness, self-respect and 
 honest independence ; who neither encourage a poverty- 
 stricken appearance because it pays, or a pretence of piety 
 because it carries with it worldly profit. Help them, yes, 
 certainly ; but let your help elevate and not degrade ; help 
 them first to work, and pay them well for it its full market 
 value ; and if sickness or misfortune overtakes them, still help, 
 but not in a Way to press the better nature out of them, and to 
 
THE USE AND ABUSE OF CHARITY. 13 
 
 leave them moral weaklings constrained to cry " Help, help," 
 to the grave's mouth. 
 
 In bringing these remarks to a close, let me say that I 
 have not made one of them with the view of drying up one 
 ripplet of the great and blessed waters of charity, only to help, 
 if it may be, so to keep the streams within their proper 
 channels that they may fertilise, and not inundate and 
 devastate. I would not deprive you of the privilege of giving 
 one coin less than you do, only I would have you see that 
 your alms bless and not curse. My work is among the poor ; 
 I give them my best thoughts ; I know more about them than 
 I do of my richer neighbours : my daily companions, almost, 
 are fallen and dishonoured young women, broken clown and 
 pauperised old men and women. I talk to them freely, and I 
 encourage them to talk to me freely. I try to get at the heart 
 of them, and putting aside the priest and the conventional 
 gent, or the clerical prig, and talking after a human fashion to 
 human beings, though soiled and smeared with the devil's and 
 the world's dirt, I flatter myself I succeed in a measure ; and 
 I tell you my conviction is that more lives are spoiled through 
 weakness, and ignorance, and stupidity, than by absolute 
 wickedness. And what the poor want are men and women 
 with hearts, and big ones too, behind their waistcoats and 
 ^tjiys, who will be to them helpers and friends, guides and 
 props, and not flingers of coins, like bones to dogs who by 
 patience, and thought, and real personal trouble shall make 
 each gift to them a use, leaving no loophole, by fault of their 
 own, for abuse ; and who will take the pains to teach and 
 educate them on matters of thrift, and health, and cleanliness 
 pointing out to them new fields of labour in our Australian 
 and American colonies, and help them to reach them after a 
 substantial manner. Yes, and the time has gone by for all 
 mere ornamental, or makeshift, or dummy guardians and 
 custodians of charities. Matters have become too serious for 
 the toleration of such like. We shall no more return to them 
 
THE USE AND ABUSE OF CHAKITY. 
 
 than to a belief in the divine rights of kings, or to the greedy 
 tyrannies and monopolies of the feudal aristocracy. The 
 demand is now for men of judgment and feeling, who will 
 work, animated by a strong sense of responsibility and 
 accountability, which they are prepared to render daily to 
 their own consciences at the bar of public opinion, and by and 
 bye at the bar of the God of the poor. 
 
 January 15th, 18M. 
 
The Federation and Colonisation of 
 the Empire" 
 
 By Sir JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, Bart., M.P. 
 
 HAVE frequently had occasion to declare that I 
 am appearing in a new character, and I think 
 again to-night I must admit that this is rather a 
 new character in which I appear before you. 
 I have never before, notwithstanding the many audiences to 
 which I have spoken, delivered what may be called a lecture, 
 and I am afraid even to-night I shall hardly be in a position 
 to read a paper to you; but I do hope that I may have 
 something to say that may be a little interesting to you at 
 the present moment. 
 
 There have been times and epochs and crises in the 
 history of this country which have been of great importance, 
 and I may say that there are occasions in the history of all 
 countries when a certain period is reached at which a fresh 
 departure must be made ; and it is the decision then arrived 
 at, whether the departure is a wise one or an unwise one, 
 which makes a nation great, happy, and prosperous, or tends 
 to its decline and to its decadence. Perhaps at this moment 
 that is the state of things with regard to England. Providence, 
 as the term is that is the Creator of the World has been 
 most beneficent to this country of ours. He has been pleased 
 to spread before us all the benefits and all the advantages 
 which can accrue to a great race, and I hope and trust that 
 this great nation has not been wanting in fulfilling, to a 
 certain extent, the obligations which have been imposed upon 
 
16 SIR JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS ON 
 
 it. But there are times when, as I have said before, we have 
 to commence afresh, and the question is whether we are not at 
 this moment in that position, and whether it does not behove 
 this country to look back on its past history, to consider its 
 present position, and to look forward as to what must be its 
 future. These thoughts have given rise to the subject on 
 which I wish to address you to-night, viz., that of Colonisation. 
 We can hardly deny that at the present moment there is 
 a great depression in trade in this country ; that there 
 are millions of our labouring classes unemployed, or com- 
 paratively unemployed that is to say, working only a 
 small number of hours or days in the week ; and that 
 there are thousands of manufacturers who are carrying- 
 on their businesses with little or no profit ; in point of 
 fact, that there has arisen a depression and a stagnation 
 in the prosperity of our commerce and our trade. Now 
 comes the great question What is the cause of this cessation 
 of activity in commerce and trade ? A great many reasons 
 are assigned and causes suggested, but it appears to me 
 that if we look into our past history it is not very difficult 
 to find the reason, at least if we are honest to ourselves. In 
 past times this country was a great producer of agricultural 
 produce, and that alone afforded to this country immense 
 wealth. That time passed away, and then again we became 
 great producers of manufactures. Now it may be very well 
 to produce, and very well to be great in manufactures, but it 
 is useless to produce unless we have consumers to consume 
 what we produce. For a long time we as artificers and 
 manufacturers of almost all the products which are necessary 
 in civilised life held our pre-eminence, but there has been 
 growing up in foreign countries and more especially in 
 America which consumed the greater parts of our products, a 
 power of self-production, and the consequence is the demand 
 has ceased for our manufactures and products, and at the same 
 moment that the demand has ceased in Europe and America 
 
THE FEDERATION AND COLONISATION OF THE EMPIRE. 17 
 
 we have been met most unexpectedly, I may say, for I don't 
 believe the prophets of forty years since had the slightest idea 
 of what would occur by the fact that the great industry by 
 which Englishmen had lived, that of agriculture, has been 
 comparatively destroyed by the capacity of more sunny climes 
 to send to us the food which we looked upon not only as a 
 means of existence, but of wealth and prosperity. That has 
 arisen in two ways. The production of our colonies, and of 
 America, and India, and Egypt became very great; but that 
 Avould have, been to no purpose had not science stepped in and 
 bridged over the space between those countries and ourselves, 
 and thus brought to our doors the products of agriculture in 
 those countries at less cost than we can produce them at in 
 this country. That, I think, is a very simple statement, but I 
 venture also to imagine that it is the true history and the true 
 cause oC tlie depression of trade at the present moment. It is 
 easy to say ' Oh, this is inscrutable; we cannot ascertain, and 
 we cannot learn, and we cannot see why this depression 
 should exist." But there is a reason. You may depend upon 
 it that nothin^ exists without a reason. Nature is so formed 
 
 O 
 
 that certain effects spring from certain causes, and her laws 
 must be obeyed. If you endeavour to ignore them, nature 
 will assert her right, and will eventually visit you with some 
 punishment, which, I think I may say, would be most richly 
 
 . Veil. 
 
 Tf this l.e so. the question arises, what is the means by 
 which tliis can ! rem.Mli.'d ' What 1 would suggest to you 
 is, let us take a lesson from what is past. Why was the nation 
 ]>ro-p .-roiis > Because she had great markets open to her, and 
 because her population was not more than the country by 
 
 \vn products of agriculture could support. Now your 
 markets are closed. Your products of agriculture are a failure 
 to you, an-l no longer supply your wants. How are you to 
 
 iv that state of thiivs > I would venture to assert that 
 
 o 
 
 Providence has placed at our feet the opportunity of restoring 
 
 C 
 
18 SIR JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS ON 
 
 all these things if only we are wise, and will act on the 
 suggestions which nature puts before us. We have extended 
 before our eyes a vast universe, a great colonial possession- 
 something which it is hardly possible to conceive, or at all 
 events which the English people do not conceive, and of which 
 they have only a faint imagination. By the course which is 
 pursued now, the idea of utilizing these great provinces for 
 the beneficent purpose of countervailing our present unhappy 
 position never seems to have entered the minds of Englishmen. 
 The idea seems to have been that the colonies were only for 
 those who were driven forth from this country, like those who, 
 when over-ridden by tyranny, left this country and peopled 
 the distant shores of America I mean in the time of Charles I. 
 They first caused the creation of the great American colonies. 
 But even that was better than anything which has succeeded 
 it, because you had men of the noblest and most courageous 
 nature, who went not only to battle for their own lives, but to 
 found a colonial empire upon principles guided by the highest 
 and noblest aspirations of mankind. But since then what has 
 been our course, as regards our colonies ? I venture to say 
 that the only course has been not colonisation, but what is 
 called emigration. I suppose if I suggested to anyone here 
 that he or she should emigrate, you would be insulted and 
 consider it a sort of degradation to emigrate. You would say, 
 " I have done nothing ; why should I be sent out of the 
 country ? " On all the democratic platforms that I have been 
 upon and I am sorry to say on some others also I have 
 heard the speakers promising their audiences that they should 
 not be made to leave the country. I submit that to look at 
 the matter in that light is a departure from the laws of nature ; 
 it is flying in the face of Providence, and refusing to accept 
 the bounties which He places before you. Why is emigration 
 looked upon with horror ? Because the Government of this 
 country and the Governments of the colonies have never 
 stepped forward to consider a good scheme of colonisation, and 
 
THE FEDEKATION AND COLONISATION OF THE EMPIRE. 19 
 
 they won't do so now. If you go to the Government now and 
 
 suggest a scheme of colonisation that will be pleasant to the 
 
 people, that will take away our superabundant population, 
 
 and that will create great nations in other parts of the globe, 
 
 and communities who will demand your manufactures and 
 
 industries, they will tell you, " We have too much to do 
 
 already ; we are burdened with the cares of state, and the 
 
 responsibilities of our colonial empire are so great that we 
 
 CMI 11 tot enter on fresh suggestions or new ideas." They refuse 
 
 to submit to the laws of nature; they refuse to accept the 
 
 bounties of Providence. ' ( A voice : No, no. ) You say, 
 
 ' Xo, no," but when I have finished you will have the 
 
 opportunity of showing that the Government have at any 
 
 period made any effort to create a colonisation of our distant 
 
 .shores by means which are judicious and wise, or fair to those 
 
 who have attempted colonisation. If you can do that, then I 
 
 will say that you are right and I am wrong. But if you shall 
 
 see that the first effort of our Government as to our colonies 
 
 was to send out convicts, and to people them with the worst 
 
 classes of society, then I say that I am right and you are 
 
 wrong, and you are not justified in saying "no, no" 
 
 (applause). The ancients were more wise in the course they 
 
 pursued with regard to their colonies. I will tell you some 
 
 few facts I have gathered as to that, and then I will ask the 
 
 LM-iitleman who says " no, no," whether there was ever an 
 
 instance of our adopting the wise course that was adopted by 
 
 the ancients. The Greeks were great colonists, and the course 
 
 tli'-v pursued with regard to their settlements at home was 
 
 tliis: The colony was sent out with the approbation of the 
 
 mother country, and under the management of a leader 
 
 appointed by the authorities of the mother country. Although 
 
 such a colony was independent of the mother country, it was 
 
 united to the parent state by the ties of filial affection, and 
 
 according to the generally received opinion among the Greeks its 
 
 duties to the parent state corresponded to those of a daughter 
 
20 SIR JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS ON 
 
 to her mother. When the colony in its turn became a parent, 
 it usually sought a leader for the colony which it intended to 
 found from the original mother country, and it sent embassies 
 who should represent it at the principal festivals of the parent 
 state. The colonists also worshipped in the new settlement 
 the same deities as in their native country. That was the 
 case with the Greek colonies. And moreover, so much did 
 foreigners recognise the unity of the Greek colonial empire 
 with Greece itself that the} 7 called her colonies "Magna 
 Grecia." Athens was the greatest colonising state of Greece, 
 and by means of her colonies she acquired an ascendancy over 
 the rest of the Greek states. It was Athens who organised 
 her colonies into the celebrated confederacy of Delos, which 
 enabled her for twenty years to maintain the struggle with all 
 the other Greek states put together. That is shortly an 
 outline of the course that was pursued by the Greeks, and the 
 result. Now, as regards the Romans, it is significant of 
 the state supervision under which they conducted their 
 colonisation that no colony was established without its duties 
 being prescribed and regulated by a formal law, showing that 
 the Roman colony was never a mere body of adventurers, but 
 had a regular organisation by the parent state. When a law 
 was passed for founding a colony, persons were appointed to 
 superintend its formation. The law fixed the quantity of land 
 that was to be distributed, and how much was to be assigned 
 to each person. A city was a necessary part of a new colony, 
 and if it did not already exist it was marked out by the 
 plough. The colony also had circumjacent territory, which 
 was also duly marked out by metes and bounds. Religious 
 ceremonies always attended the founding of a colony, and the 
 anniversary was afterwards observed. Sheriffs, public notaries, 
 keepers of the archives, heralds, and architects were appointed 
 by the home government. Of the Roman colonies Machiavelli 
 says " By them the empire was consolidated, the decay of the 
 population checked, the unity of the nation and of the religion 
 
THE FEDERATION AND COLONISATION OF THE EMPIRE. 21 
 
 diffused." What I wish to draw from that is what I have 
 already endeavoured to depict to you, that there has been no 
 systematic course adopted by the Government of England 
 with regard to its colonies. There has always been a 
 haphazard method of leaving the people to form colonies 
 in the best way that they could, and at the present moment 
 what I desire to point out is that these great countries 
 are waiting to receive us, that this country is burdened 
 with its population wanting the employment which the 
 population of these countries would give, and that there 
 is no action on the part of the Government to further 
 this great end ; on the contrary, there is now a proposal 
 to establish National Land Associations for the purpose 
 of providing the people with land in this countiy. But 
 when they have got it, what can they do with it ? 
 It will not produce enough in the present condition 
 of agriculture to support them ; but there is land in 
 the colonies which you may have for the mere expense of 
 transporting the people from this country into those great 
 productive and splendid climes. I have just touched upon 
 that point that there are various suggestions as to the 
 means by which our difficulties may be overcome. One of 
 them has sprung from a very excellent and philanthropic 
 body of noblemen, who have an idea that by buying up 
 estates in this country they can divide them among people 
 in small areas, and thus satisfy their desire for land. If they 
 could divide the land among the people us it was in the olden 
 days, when it was a profitable industry, it would be a very 
 happy thought, but to offer it to tin. 1 people now that it is 
 a to them is a very unhappy thought. You had better 
 face tin 1 farts, and sec that the land beneath your feet is not 
 worth your cultivation, that the land over the sea is worth 
 cultivation, that it is your right to possess it, and that 1>\ 
 cultivating it you \\ill benefit yourself ami the mother country 
 more than by endeavouring to possess the land here, which 
 
22 SIR JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS ON 
 
 will not repay you for its cultivation. But it may be said 
 and here I speak particularly to the ladies that the colonies 
 are so far off; that you have to undertake a long sea voyage, 
 and when you get there you don't know what you will do. 
 As regards the sea voyage, I can assure you from some 
 practical experience that I have found a sea voyage particularly 
 beneficial. As regards what you are to do when you get to 
 your destination, that is what the Government ought to be 
 prepared for. They ought to do the same as the Greeks and 
 Romans did, and take care not to cast you on desert shores, 
 but land you in a country where employment can be obtained, 
 where there are plenty of opportunities, and where cities 
 might be founded, instead of repeating the original difficulty 
 by over populating the cities that exist. That could only be 
 done by arrangement between the Government of this 
 country and the Governments of the colonies, and that is what 
 I say is what the English people should demand. I have a 
 book here, the writer of which went deeply into the question, 
 and I should like to give you an extract or two from it. The 
 writer is Mr. Edward Gibbon Wakefield, who was very well 
 known at one time as an authority on this subject, and I 
 venture to think that the present position is very well 
 represented by the position in which things were when he 
 wrote in 1849. He says this : 
 
 My fancy pictures a sort and amount of colonisation that would 
 amply repay its cost by providing happily for our redundant people, by 
 improving the state of those who remained at home, by supplying us 
 largely with food and the raw materials of manufacture, and by gratifying 
 our best feelings of national pride through the extension over unoccupied 
 parts of the earth of a nationality truly British in language, religion, laws, 
 institutions, and attachment to the empire. 
 
 That, I think, is precisely the point we want to arrive at. I 
 would go on now to show what is the difference between 
 colonisation and emigration. If we were to act on these 
 suggestions colonisation would be directed to a particular spot. 
 In emigration two-thirds of the emigrants go to the United 
 
THE FEDERATION AND COLONISATION OF THE EMPIRE. 23 
 
 States, but that is no benefit to us. If, on the other hand, 
 those emigrants went to our colonies, it would be an immense 
 ben ctit to us. Mr. Waketield further says : 
 
 The practice of colonisation has, in a great measure, peopled 
 the earth. It has founded nations. It lias reached with momentous 
 consequences our old countries by creating and supplying new objects of 
 desire, by stimulating industry and skill, by promoting manufactures and 
 commerce, by greatly augmenting the wealth and population of the 
 world : it has occasioned directly a peculiar form of government, the 
 really democratic, and has been indirectly a main cause of political 
 changes and tendencies which now agitate Europe. Until so lately as 
 twenty years ago, no theory of colonisation had set forth what should be 
 the objects of the process, still less what are the best means of 
 accomplishing them. There were long experience without a system, 
 many results without a plan, vast doings, but no principles. 
 
 I venture to say what Mr. Wakefield said in 1849 is what I 
 would say in the present day that our great opportunity has 
 hern lost, wasted, squandered, and ignored. I would go on 
 further to read what was said some years ago by Mr. John 
 Stuart Mill, and which I apply to the present state of 
 things. He says : 
 
 The benefits of civilisation should be considered in its relation not 
 to a single country, but to the collective economical interests of the 
 human race. The question is in general treated too exclusively as one of 
 distribution of relieving one labour market and supplying another. It 
 is this, but it is ;ds<> a question of production, and of the most efficient 
 employment of the productive resources of the world. Much has been 
 .said of the good economy of importing commodities from the place where 
 they can IK- bought cheapest, while the good economy of producing 
 them where they can be produced cheapest is comparatively little thought 
 of. If to carry consumable goods from the places where they are 
 superabundant to those where they are scarce is a good pecuniary 
 speculation, is it not an equally good speculation to do the same thing 
 with regard to labour and instruments '( The exportation of labourers and 
 capital from old to new countries, from a place where their productive 
 power is less to a place where it is greater, increases by so much the 
 aggregate produce of the labour and capital of the world. It adds to the 
 joint wealth of the old and new country what amounts in a short period 
 to many times the mere cost of effecting the transport. There need be 
 
SIR JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS ON 
 
 no hesitation in affirming that colonisation, in the present state of the 
 world, is the very best affair of business in which the capital of an old 
 and wealthy country can possibly engage. 
 
 Now Mr. Mill is the great philosopher and friend of the 
 people, who has been so much admired and justly so and 
 that is what he says of colonisation. I think that supports 
 all the arguments I have put forward to you. What we want 
 is that this country shall be relieved of its superabundant 
 labour, and a market formed for various productive industries, 
 and the only way to do that is to follow the advice of 
 Mr. Mill, by transplanting that superabundant labour from 
 this country to a wider and greater area which is waiting for 
 it. I know there are those who say that to take away the 
 labour from this country is depleting this country of its 
 greatest possession. I agree to that up to a point, but there is 
 a power of reproduction, and our experience in this matter is 
 that the more you take away the greater is the reproduction. 
 The more you take away and the larger you make the room 
 at home, the more successful are those left behind, more 
 particularly when you are creating new markets to take 
 the place of those which you have lost. What does Mr. 
 Wakefield say ? 
 
 I, for one, am of opinion that if colonisation were systematically 
 conducted, with a view to the advantage of the mother country, the 
 control of the Imperial Power ought to be much greater, and the 
 connection between the colonies and the centre far more intimate than 
 it has ever yet been. I regard the waste but partially occupied 
 territories which this nation has acquired by costly efforts as a valuable 
 national property, which we have every right in justice, and are bound 
 by every consideration of prudence, to use for the greatest benefit of 
 the people of this country, and instead of leaving the colonies to 
 take what form a thousand accidents may detarmine, and to grow up as 
 castaways until they are strong enough to become enemies, 1 think that 
 the imperial power ought to weld them into the form most agreeable to 
 itself, and to bind them to this kingdom by indissoluble bonds. 
 What I ask you is, are those words of sense and words of 
 reason, or are they otherwise ? I did not pitch on the passage 
 
THE FEDERATION AND COLONISATION OF THE EMPIRE. !>. 
 
 which I intended to give you just now as regards the 
 advantage which colonisation is to this country, and how it is 
 that the taking away of a curtain amount of the population 
 ironi this country does not damage it, but is advantageous to 
 it ; but I should like to say a word or two on that subject. 
 \Ye know that every year the increase of the population of 
 this country is enormous, but what I have to state to you is 
 that were you to remove some of this population, your 
 population would increase still more. It is well known that 
 in poor neighbourhoods the birth of children is very great, 
 but the number who actually grow up is very small, for the 
 children are not properly nurtured, fed, or cared for. If you 
 would only insist on the Government adopting some wise 
 system of colonisation, and that they should not send 
 emigrants out in such a way that they are thrust headlong 
 into the cities far away, only to find themselves worse off in 
 Australia than they were in England if this were done, 
 so far from rendering the population here less prolific, you 
 would increase by a very large percentage the ratio of grown 
 up persons who are constantly being added to the population 
 of this country. 
 
 I begin to feel that I have already occupied more than my 
 half-hour, but there are many other points which I intended to 
 have brought before you. I am aware, however, that the time 
 has passed, and no doubt there are some here who will wish to 
 contravene the arguments I have used, and it would be unjust 
 t'r me to interfere with tlu-ir opportunity. I would submit, in 
 conclusion, that colonisation is a matter of the first importance 
 in tliis country; that it is, in point of fact, the means by 
 which, according to the laws of nature and the beneficence of 
 Providence, we can meet the difficulties which now stare us in 
 the face. The question of the housing of the poor will not be 
 nift by eleemosynary means; in fact the eleemosynary steps 
 which have been taken have defeated their own end. In 
 consequence of the desire to build dwellings for the poor on ;i 
 
26 SIR JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS ON 
 
 charitable basis, the action of the natural builder of the 
 residences of the poor has been very considerably checked. 
 Of course if you attempt or think it wise to house the poor at 
 the national expense, by all means do it, but I am satisfied 
 that in a short time you will find you have worked out your 
 own destruction, that it is an impossibility, and that you are 
 taking the wrong course. We have a lesson within a few 
 miles of our own shores of the curse of artificially dealing 
 with natural laws which ought to be an instruction to us. 1 
 know it is a controversial point, and therefore I shall avoid 
 going into it at any length, but we know that Ireland at the 
 present moment shows the difficulties of dealing with the laws 
 of nature. There is a natural law which must be obeyed. 
 Directly you depart from it 3^011 turn the whole course of 
 affairs into disorder. It is a well-known fact that at the 
 present moment not one inch of land in Ireland can be sold or 
 dealt with, because the Government have interfered with the 
 natural laws with regard to the land of that country. The 
 people, it was said, wanted land, but if the Government had 
 provided that land which lies idle on the other side of our 
 seas, and is not far or difficult to reach in fact very little 
 more trouble to reach than it was to go from Edinburgh to 
 London some years ago if the people who cried for land had 
 had land given to them which was ours to give with no 
 injustice, no alienation of right, and no unfairness to any 
 single person if that course had been pursued another state 
 of affairs would have existed at the present moment, and 
 instead of land being unsaleable it would have been sought 
 after. You must put land to its natural use according to the 
 surrounding circumstances. You cannot say " This land shall 
 produce corn," and " This shall produce the vine." It will 
 only produce that which Almighty Providence chooses to 
 allow, and if you want these things you must go elsewhere. 
 The value of land does not alone depend on what it produces. 
 How much more valuable is a garden than a cornfield, yet the 
 
THE FEDERATION AND COLONISATION OF THE EMPIRE. 27 
 
 garden produces nothing compared with the cornfield. The 
 flower garden produces nothing but that which is amusing 
 and pleasant, but it is the natural use of the land following 
 the civilisation which we enjoy. That is the natural appli- 
 cation of the land in England, and the natural application of 
 the land in the colonies is for food for the people. We must 
 make the whole empire homogeneous. 
 
 Thus far, then, I have spoken of the benefits to be derived 
 from colonisation, and the singular neglect of the people, and 
 of both the Home and Colonial Governments, to take 
 advantage of these opportunities, which are of national and 
 imperial importance. I would wish to add, however, that the 
 fault lies with the Home Government rather than with the 
 ('olonial Governments, and the more so that the Home 
 Government has a long historical past to guide it. 
 
 What I now urge is that it is the only means by which 
 lain I can be honestly and wisely provided for those who desire 
 to possess it that it is the only source from whence new 
 markets can be evolved to afford employment to people in this 
 country and to resuscitate our drooping commerce. But that 
 this should be successful, confederation of our colonies with the 
 mother country, acting as one empire, is a necessity. But the 
 theme is too great for me to attempt to enter upon it to-night. 
 I must content myself with hoping that I have to some extent 
 shown that if we wish to be successful in the future, as we 
 have been in the past, our statesmen must grapple with these 
 questions, and as the ancient Greeks made Magiia Grecia, so 
 must we make Greater Britain. 
 
 May llth, 1885. 
 
versus Cram 
 
 By the Rev. L. M. D'ORSEY, M.A., Principal of 
 Grosvenor School, Twickenham. 
 
 N discussing- the subject, " Education r. Cram," it 
 would seem to be desirable to start with a clear 
 idea as to .what education really is. I propose 
 to define education as that which tends towards 
 producing the nearest conceivable approximation to the type 
 of perfect man. If this be a fair and just view of what is 
 meant by the word education, a person who undertakes the 
 education of a child should have clearly and constantly before 
 his mind a full and appreciative conception of his responsi- 
 bilities. He should determine what are the essential points at 
 which he should aim, and settle on the best means for 
 carrying to a successful issue his attempts at their realisation. 
 If we consider what the subjects of his educational efforts are ; 
 that the young things have a future before them in com- 
 parison with which this life, long though it may be, is but a 
 fleeting moment; that they are the Temple of the Living God; 
 and that their powers for good or evil, usefulness or crime, 
 mainly depend on the educator's work, we can well under- 
 stand what an awful responsibility all those incur who in any 
 way undertake the education of the young. 
 
 A division of education into three parts seems easy and 
 natural viz., Moral, Intellectual, and Physical. 
 
 Under the Moral I would place religious training, not so 
 much that which might be termed dogmatic teaching, but that 
 winch inculcates principles of truthfulness, honesty, obedience, 
 discipline, uprightness, straightforwardness, bravery, and 
 nobleness of character. 
 
30 THE REV. L. M. D'ORSEY ON 
 
 Under the Intellectual I would place the fostering of 
 the senses and their training, producing general development 
 of the reasoning faculties. 
 
 And under the Physical I would include the practice of 
 every art that lends itself to the compacting of the strong, 
 healthy, sound body. 
 
 Thus true education ought to supply the educated with a 
 guiding power, a perceiving power, and a supporting power. 
 The moral side of man's nature requires intellect and judgment 
 to temper its zeal; the intellect requires a well ordered home 
 in which to take up its abode. Education, to be successful, 
 should be balanced. The moral side should not be in excess of 
 the intellectual, nor the intellectual of the physical, nor yet 
 the physical in excess of either the moral or intellectual ; all 
 three must be in direct proportion to the other's needs and 
 subordinate. I might compare the truly educated man to a 
 well found vessel, where there is the trained hand that turns 
 the wheel, the rudder that guides the ship clear of shoals, and 
 the strong hull that withstands the buffeting of the waves. 
 
 Here I think we may leave for a while the subject of 
 education, and turn to what is popularly known as " Cram." 
 
 On the question of Cram and Crammer there is so much 
 misconception that I feel almost appalled by the task of trying 
 to elucidate its mysteries in a paper of this kind. Let me 
 begin, however, by saying most emphatically that cram is not 
 education, and never can be ; that the crammer is not an 
 educator, and never can be ; that cram on the other hand is 
 instruction merely, and the crammer an instructor merely. 
 
 On the growth of the examination system a class of 
 persons has sprung up popularly known as " Crammers," 
 because their business was to cram as much paying matter 
 into the brains of their pupils as they could in a given time. 
 Let alone the moral and physical aspects of education, what 
 had these crammers to do with even the intellectual ? 
 Nothing whatever. In fact, how could they afford to spend 
 
EDUCATION VERSUS CRAM. 31 
 
 months in developing intellect, when memory was the most 
 paying commodity. No : " Cram, Cram, Cram," was their war 
 cry, and cram they did to perfection. The whole thing was 
 reduced to a science, and the most talented of the craft could 
 boast not only of what they had been able to cram into the 
 minds of the examinees, but of how they had been able to 
 read, with a power almost akin to prophecy, the minds of the 
 e\a n liners themselves. 
 
 From the fact that cramming took place chiefly in 
 connection with the public examinations, a very general 
 delusion, amounting in many cases to a gross injustice, has 
 arisen, by which any gentleman who reads with pupils for 
 these examinations is stigmatised as a crammer. I know 
 several such gentlemen, who are indignant at the term being 
 applied to them, and in whose establishments the teaching is 
 as methodical and intellectual as the most thoroughgoing 
 advocate for intellectual culture could desire. But I believe 
 they are in the minority, and equally I believe the genuine 
 professional crammer will continue to exist and to thrive as 
 long as there are found parents who, having neglected their 
 duty towards their sons in their early days, endeavour to 
 make up for the lost time by sending them to establishments 
 win -re by frequent draughts of concentrated essence of 
 knowledge, liberal allowance of strong tea, and midnight toil, 
 the more successfully doctored ones are enabled to pour out 
 such a string of facts that they are pronounced by 
 H. M. C. S. C. as having duly passed such and such an 
 examination. If the evil stopped here, if it were only the 
 poor fellow, crippled in mind and body, on whom we had to 
 expend our sympathy, why this would be sad enough, but 
 when we know that oftentimes these men have to fulfil most 
 onerous duties, on which the destinies of nations may almost 
 be said to depend, then the question indeed becomes grave. 
 In support of this I would refer you to a paragraph in The 
 Times of December llth, 1882, when the folly of the course at 
 
THE REV. L. M. DORSEY ON 
 
 present pursued in the examination for the Indian Civil 
 Service becomes apparent. 
 
 I must now pass on to Cram taken in a broader sense. 
 Here unfortunately much confusion exists, and many words 
 and phrases are used by the public in a vague indefinite way, 
 which, though really meaning very different things, are 
 employed to express much the same idea. As examples of 
 these I may mention education, instruction, cram, hard work, 
 over-pressure. Education I have already shown consists of 
 three parts the Moral, Intellectual, and Physical. Instruction, 
 I take it, is the mere imparting of knowledge ; cram I 
 consider to be a more concentrated form of instruction ; hard 
 work applies to instruction; over-pressure, when the mind 
 and body are unduly taxed. 
 
 Again, much confusion exists, even in circles where one 
 would least expect it, as to the difference between intellectual 
 education and mere instruction. This arises from the fact that 
 the subjects taken in hand by the educator and instructor are 
 for the most part common property. Let me give an example 
 say the Latin language. Let us look upon it in the light of a 
 fortress. The educator and instructor are both attacking it. 
 The superficial observer, while watching the operations going 
 on, will think they have a common aim, viz., the taking of the 
 stronghold. He will see but little difference in the modes of 
 
 o 
 
 attack. He goes up to General Educator and asks him what 
 his object is. " Sir, my object is to train my soldiers ; they 
 will have other and more important fortresses to assail later 
 on; this is mere practice; I don't care if they don't take this 
 particular one; it would be of little use to most of them if 
 they did succeed, but the habits of obedience, discipline, 
 reflection, and exercise of judgment acquired during these 
 operations will be invaluable." Our casual observer now 
 walks round to the other general. He is General Instructor. 
 " See," he says, " what progress we are making ; very different 
 from that old fellow over there ; he will spend a whole 
 
KIM/CATION VEKSrs CRAM. 
 
 lorning in making his men think over the last move he has 
 made ; my men are busy pulling down the stones ; we shall 
 soon be in. What do I care about training my men ? That's 
 nothing to me. My reputation will rise or fall with my 
 success or want of success. If I take this fortress people will 
 see how clever my men are and what a great general I am." 
 
 I hope by this simile I have made my meaning plain. It 
 is not the subjects taught that make the difference between 
 education and instruction, but the spirit in which these 
 subjects arc attacked. The educator takes up a study chiefly 
 with the object of developing and training the pupil's intellect, 
 the instructor with a view of putting as much knowledge of 
 that study into the pupil's mind as possible. The first course 
 will produce, as its chief fruit, a show of increased intellect. 
 the second a show of increased learning. The first is calculated 
 to produce an intelligent being, the second a perambulating 
 encyclopaedia. 
 
 I should like now to descend for a few minutes rather 
 more into details, and contrast the actual working of the two 
 systems, say in a school. 
 
 Let us take Latin. I imagine a class to be engaged 
 on a book of Caesar. The educator, with his mind bent on 
 developing the thinking powers of his pupils, will let them 
 know in the first place who Csesar was, giving a brief account 
 i.f his life. How fan a pupil be expected to take any interest 
 in a subject if he knows nothing of the author of the book 
 it-ad, or of the history of the times in which the events 
 described took place ( The teacher will then <;<> on to explain 
 the geography of the country: he will describe the weapons 
 ijs-d, the mode of warfare pursued, drawing analogies between 
 the past and present. On turning to the language itself, he 
 will contrast the Latin phraseology with that of the English 
 or French, r.ot forgetting to point out the modern words 
 derived roin the Latin words of the text, and their 
 change, if any, in meaning. The whole lesson in his 
 
 D 
 
THE REV. L. M. DORSEY ON 
 
 hands becomes interesting, intelligible, and intellectually 
 improving. Now see how the mere instructor or crammer 
 proceeds. His object being to get over as much ground 
 as possible, he has no time for any of the above. He 
 must bestow all his energy on seeing that his class learns up 
 the English translation as correctly as possible. If there is 
 any time to spare it must be devoted to memory work, learning 
 up the genders of nouns and the perfects and supines of the 
 verbs. 
 
 Again, in the teaching of geograph}^ and history the 
 difference of the two styles is equally conspicuous. In the 
 educator's hands these branches become engaging studies. A 
 thousand interesting particulars are gradually unfolded, on 
 which the pupils can hang the drier and more mechanical 
 facts. With him a river becomes, as it were, a living thing, 
 awakening the dormant faculties and arousing attention. It 
 affords means of introducing slight geological allusions, and 
 brings before the minds of the class numerous reflections, such 
 as why towns and cities are found on a river's bank ; how 
 some rivers are navigable and others not ; why some have 
 a strong current, others a weak ; why some have their waters 
 of one hue, others of another; why some rivers are of an icy 
 coldness, others whose waters are almost tepid. The why 
 and the wherefore of every fact are to the front ; cause and 
 effect are clearly seen. 
 
 The instructor says, " Now, my boys, for the list of 
 capitals you have prepared for me ; yes, that will do. Now we 
 shall go over yesterday's lesson. Jones, give me that list of 
 towns on the river Rhine. Yes, very well said. I think we 
 shall do for the examiners this time." Possibly the examiners 
 are done, but what then ? How can these dry lists benefit the 
 pupils, even if well learnt ? But how fares it when the 
 unlucky candidate gives the wrong list, and when asked to 
 mention the important towns on the banks of the Danube, he 
 carefully writes down those on the Volga ? 
 
EDUCATION VERSUS CRAM. 35 
 
 And when we think of the way that history is generally 
 taught, with what a feeling of disgust we approach the 
 question. What ought to be a subject of interest and delight, 
 opening up to our view, as it does, the narrative of England's 
 progress, the world's progress I may say, in the Arts, Sciences, 
 and Literature, becomes a dry collection of disconnected facts 
 and dates; the persons who might be clothed with so much 
 life, meaningless nonentities, their only association a date ; and 
 the great facts, the turning points possibly in the history of 
 civilisation, a mere catalogue of bare names and places. 
 " What's the meaning of this, please sir ? " says small Jones. 
 "Never mind," thunders instructor, "we have no time for 
 explanation ; you know we have to get up the whole of this 
 period for next examination. Proceed ! Give the date of the 
 battle of Hastings, give the date of- ." Yes, it is all "give 
 the date," " who fought," " who conquered," '' who did this," 
 and " who did that." Unhappy man, unhappy boys, to have 
 to endure such a system ! Who is to blame ? Certainly not 
 the boys; perhaps not the master. Who then ? Echo answers, 
 "The age we live in." 
 
 Here I may just refer to a letter I read in last week's 
 Guardian somewhat apropos of the above. A boy, who had 
 just read " William ruled with a rod of iron," was asked 
 where the rod was now preserved, "In the Tower, sir," was 
 the lad's happy answer. 
 
 Time forbids my referring to the application of the two 
 styles of teaching to the other branches of study usually taken 
 up in a school, but the differences are equally visible, and 
 notably so in the case of mathematics. With respect to the 
 different effects that rdm-ation and cram have upon the minis 
 of the pupils there cannot be a shadow of doubt. The faces of 
 the children offer pretty trustworthy evidence. A glance 
 from the bright intelligent countenances of those brought 
 under the one influence to the dull uninterested ones of the 
 other is sufficient. In fact, no one, who has not practically 
 
36 THE REV. L. M. D'ORSEY ON 
 
 examined the question, can believe the effect that education 
 has upon the features of the young. Here I mean education, 
 not mere instruction. I mean that education, taken in its 
 broad comprehensive form of the Moral, Intellectual, and 
 Physical, which ennobles, quickens, and invigorates. The 
 young boy or girl is the potter's plastic clay ; the potter is the 
 parent, pastor, or master. He is the minister of God. With 
 the slightest touch he imprints some mark of the divine work, 
 and what was once the sodden lump of shapeless earth, as if 
 by magic, becomes the bright form, destined perchance to 
 serve for years to come as a model to others, spreading abroad 
 its bright influence, helping to encourage, serving to stimulate, 
 and ever tending to bring the whole of mankind nearer to its 
 Creator. 
 
 Here a word of explanation seems desirable. An advocate 
 of one system often runs the risk of being accused of ignoring 
 any of the good points to be found in another. While pleading 
 for education, some may imagine I under-rate the acquisition 
 of knowledge. Far from it ; one has too many examples 
 in daily life of its need. Besides, in many cases the memory 
 does require strengthening. What I do maintain is this that 
 all instruction should be given with the view of bringing out 
 the powers of the mind, and I consider that any subject thus 
 treated is more likely to be thoroughly mastered, and more 
 likely to prove of real use to the possessor, than any know- 
 ledge fostered under the system of cram. In the one case the 
 subject is understood, in the other it is not. 
 
 In conclusion it seems only natural to ask which is 
 gaining the day Education or Cram ? I am much afraid 
 that the latter is in the ascendancy. So long as our public 
 examinations are based on a system which offers a premium 
 on memory work, so long will cram prosper and education go 
 to the wall. The whole spirit of the age encourages cram. 
 The cry is for Results. Our best public schools boast of 
 Results. Our lower grade schools are paid by Results. And 
 
EDUCATION VERSUS CRAM. 37 
 
 what is meant by Results ? The having passed some examina- 
 tion. But does this passing imply that the candidate possesses 
 one single quality that will be of value to him in after life ? 
 I doubt it. You who are here to-night, ask yourselves what you 
 have found useful of all you ever learnt while at school. How 
 little of the actual book work has availed you in the great 
 battle of life ! Has it not rather been your religion and its 
 teachings; your powers of reflection and judgment; your 
 habits of perseverance, order, and obedience; and lastly your 
 strong frame and healthy constitution that have stood you in 
 good stead ? And how can the measure of the richness of 
 your possessions be gauged in the examination room ? Man's 
 examination is Life ; God is his Judge ; his deeds of usefulness 
 are the Results. The day is not far distant, perhaps, when the 
 folly of the course now pursued will become too apparent, and 
 a reaction will take place. Until the tide turn we must 
 expect the instructor to continue to ply his craft with ever 
 increasing zeal, reaping his lull share of results ; \vhile the 
 educator, with the current against him, will plod quietly on, 
 looking forward to the lives of his pupils as the best and most 
 enduring fruit of his toil. 
 
 .'.',1 1,, /.s'.s'/,. 
 
 SUPPLEMENT ARY NOTE. 
 
 The following extracts corroborate in a remarkable degree some of 
 the lines of thought occurring in this paper. The first is from the address 
 of Dr. Percival at Liverpool College, delivered in January, 1885. 
 
 No nut will accuse me, I believe, of under-rating the value of work; but work, when 
 ;ill i> said and done, is hut the handmaid of life. School work has various aspects, but the 
 chief of all is its influence on life : and the tw<> most important things for those who regulate 
 it to consider an- its use (1) for the cultivation of faculty, (2) for the cultivation of tastes; for 
 these two things determine the quality and the power of the life. Great as has been our 
 
38 EDUCATION VERSUS CRAM. 
 
 educational advancement during the last thirty years, I am not sure that in these respects 
 we have done all that might have been done, or that we are so very much better than our 
 fathers were. 
 On this the editor of the Journal of Education observes (June 1st, 1885) : 
 
 These remarks refer to all our schools, but it is in the elementary schools that we 
 have done most, and, if judged by Dr. Percival's standard, have achieved least. Our 
 elaborate machinery of " passes," whether in the three R's or in extra subjects, does little 
 for the cultivation of faculty, and still less for the cultivation of tastes. The most important 
 faculty of all, that of intelligent thinking, is totally neglected. Not a taste is implanted 
 that will survive the school age, and too often the children leave school with a distaste for 
 everything they have been driven to get up fur the inspector. 
 
 The quotation following is from a review of " Recollections of Pattison," 
 which also appeared in the Journal of Education for June 1st, 1885 : 
 
 A trifling incident may show how strong was his [Pattison's] antipathy to the narrow 
 classical instruction which used to iorm the chief staple of our public school education I 
 had been talking about my own school time at Harrow. He turned round and asked abrup ly, 
 "Did you learn anything there?" I hesitated "Answer me 'Yes' or 'No' Can you 
 recall a single thing worth remembering that you learnt during all the years that you spent 
 there ?" I replied that, owing to my extreme short sight and consequent slowness in looking 
 out words in a dictionary, I was not a good sample of a Harrow boy, but that some of my 
 schoolfellows certainly learnt much. "Yes," he said, doubtfully, "perhaps you maybe 
 right " 
 
TJie Craze for Cheapness" 
 
 By Mr. EDWARD KING, Editor of the "Richmond 
 and Twickenham Times." 
 
 ND what <.s cheapness ? Well, perhaps the popular 
 idea of cheapness is a large return for a small 
 outlay ; a return in which quantity is estimated 
 at a value out of all just proportion to quality. 
 More or less, most bargain hunters are of the mind of the 
 Vicar of Waketield's son Moses. When they go to the fair 
 they like plenty of green spectacles for their money ; and 
 when they have got the green spectacles home, how they 
 love to call around them their friends and neighbours to 
 prove how wise they have been in their own conceit. You 
 and I, with the rest of the wise ones, smile a sickly little 
 smile at the fallacies of life (for of course w r e are not 
 bargain hunters; we are far too sensible for that), and turn 
 away to remember that someone has said, and not untruly 
 The pleasure is as great 
 Of being cheated as to cheat. 
 
 We may question the morality of the lines, but what 
 observer of life dare question their accuracy \ History 
 endorses them ; every day they are illustrated by the mad 
 pranks of human nature in the wild hunts after bargains of 
 every sort, from bargains in wives to bargains in crockery. 
 The celebrated " History of Popular Delusions " is a work 
 which its author may have commenced, but he could only 
 commence; it can only end with the same "finis" which 
 shall close the last page of the history of human nature. 
 
 The wild and unreasoning pursuit of cheapness is a 
 cia/e, because it is usually founded upon a tissue of 
 
MR. EDWARD KING OX 
 
 fallacies. The pursuit of bargains is frequently based upon 
 the assumption that the seller is a fool and the buyer a 
 sage : time tests that soft impeachment* and too often proves 
 that the characteristics of the parties .should be re\v 
 What is known as the ' cheap market " abounds in 
 imposition. As we get more into the detail of our subject 
 I think this will become a fact beyond question, but we 
 mav briefly illustrate by the way. Tenders are invited for a 
 contract : they arrive, and are opened ; there is an amazing 
 difference in the various totals; sharpers and honourable 
 men compete, the lowest figures being often those of the most 
 unscrupulous ; they secure the work and " the profit comes 
 in," either by a huge bill of extras which is so ingeniously 
 concocted that it cannot well be evaded, or by 'a, little 
 arrangement" with some shady architect or surveyor, which 
 we need not examine in detail. 
 
 Estimate if you can the thousands of choice passages 
 which have been marred in their conception owing to the 
 cheap imposition of vile pens refusing to travel over paper 
 with the flying fluency of burning thoughts. Who that scans 
 with careful eye the flowing manuscript of Macaulay. as 
 exhibited at the British Museum, can imagine that he wrote 
 with other than the best of nibs, or quills of quality and 
 careful cut ? Peiish the thought that the noble literary merits 
 of the siege of Londonderry or the grand descriptive passages 
 in the trial of Warren Hastings ever hung fire in their 
 composition through the lethargic flexibility of a wretched 
 pen or the splutterings of inferior quills. 
 
 When the Hour newspaper was in existence it was not 
 unusual for the seekers after cheap advertising to compare its 
 charges for ad vert i- with the prices of the Daily 
 
 Telegraph. It is presumable that these sapient one- 
 the widest publicity. It was undeniable that both papers 
 were "dailies," and that the}' were to be had at all the 
 metropolitan bookstalls. But if the charges of the Teleymph 
 
THE fRAZK FOR CHEAPNESS. 
 
 had been ten times that of the Hour an advertisement in 
 
 its columns would have been the best investment, for while 
 the Tc'lffji'tfijfi had a sale of something like 250,000 copies, the 
 HIJI.I.I' at the time of its decease had a circulation of only 0,000. 
 In the purlieus of the City are not a few disreputable 
 advertising agents who draw large sums from unwary 
 tradesmen by the bait of cheap advertising in one hundred 
 $paper& The crucial investigation of disputed claims 
 heard in the law courts has proved that one newspaper has 
 counted perhaps tor twenty by the heading line and title 
 having been altered throughout, matter and advertisements 
 in either case being identical another example of the 
 fallacies of cheapm - 
 
 N- one is more alive to the fact that the " cheap market" 
 abounds in imposition than the tenant of the cheap house the 
 '' whited sepulchre" of the speculative builder. He, too, 
 sometimes burns his fingers at the game of speculation, but 
 when deceivers are cheated shall the righteous deign to 
 shed a sympathetic tear ? A few years since the " run-thein- 
 up-anyhow" builder thought he had discovered a great find 
 in foreign doors at low prices. For a time these doors turned 
 out fairly well, but as the demand became greater the quality 
 deteriorated ; with a few ounces of putty, an hour of expensive 
 time, and unlimited glass-paper, the delinquencies ot foreign 
 scamping were botched up by the amiable British painter, 
 whose paint and putty knife covers multitudes of sins ; 
 but when the value of the English time and the foreign 
 
 added together the speculation looked doubtful, and thus 
 f'livign doors are less popular than formerly. Experience, too, 
 teaches the tenant of the cheap house the dearness of his 
 speculation. Sanitary arrangements which engender typhoid, 
 rocking sa*h-s which eivate colds and admit the biting air of 
 winter, so that huge fires are indispensable, cheap gasfittings 
 which waste gas and cause damage to torn up carpets, thanks 
 bo Mindry leakage, ill-located larders which freeze the meat in 
 
42 ME. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 winter and half cook it in summer, prove to him a dozen times 
 in a year that cheapness is only a poor counterfeit for economy, 
 which is seldom dissociated from a good article at a fair price. 
 
 Another imposition and delusion of the cheap market is 
 lightly-made and ill-finished machinery. To a superficial 
 observer in the matter of price lists, English makers compare 
 unfavourably with foreign firms. The test of time proves the 
 reverse. Place the machines before a practical man and 
 see which he will select. Not only will the English make 
 wear the longest on account of its superior fitting, especially in 
 places where there is a heavy strain on the bearings, but the 
 framework being more solidly constructed, should any un- 
 foreseen strain occur, the area of breakage will, be less, and 
 consequently the expense of repairs less in proportion. And 
 beyond this it should be remembered that high-class machinery 
 may always be run at a greater speed than that of an inferior 
 make, that it frequently takes less power to drive it, through 
 its admirable fittings, proportion, and balance of parts, and that 
 it invariably turns out better work than what is known as 
 cheap machinery, thus commanding a better price for the 
 manufacturer and ensuring his reputation for quality. 
 
 Other fallacies of the short-sighted and parsimonious may 
 be illustrated by the "cutting down" process when parish 
 roads are to be mended and estimates are under discussion. 
 This may be more common in village vestries than in town 
 boards ; but there can be no question that cheap material for 
 road metalling is the very worst economy, that it does not last 
 half the time of the best stone, that it consequently creates a 
 larger amount of mud, and that the larger amount of labour 
 expended much more than balances the difference between 
 original cost, to say nothing of damage to residential 
 reputation caused through the use of the inferior material. 
 As it is but a step from the road to the pathway, it may not 
 be out of place to localise this point by a passing reference to 
 what the inhabitants of Richmond have suffered through the 
 
THE CRAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 43 
 
 use of second-rate material in the making and mending of 
 pathways in some of our leading thoroughfares. Discontent 
 has been common, and who can wonder that such should have 
 been the case, so long as ratepayers have eyes to see and feet 
 to feel. Bargain hunters are so wanting in the reflective 
 faculty that it is impossible for them to avoid carrying their 
 private policy into public life, and hence the occasional 
 anomaly at board meetings of parsimonious members wasting 
 valuable time over the spending of a sovereign, when that 
 time might have been much better occupied in the discussion 
 of matters which might have saved hundreds from being 
 muddled away by incompetent or unscrupulous parish 
 servants. Fortunately for Richmond, the Vestry seems 
 tolerably free from such exasperating nigglers ; but that they 
 have a by no means rare existence is patent to any general 
 student of local board reports. 
 
 Extending our range of vision (for our subject is a huge 
 one when all its bearings are considered) to the national aspect 
 of the question, we come face to face with this problem : 
 Can England, as a nation, gain anything by a reputation for 
 cheapness ? I think not, and I would venture to go further 
 and say that a national reputation for mere cheapness would 
 eventually damage and reduce our export trade. The words 
 " English made " have hitherto been associated with quality 
 rather than mere lowness of price. And it seems well that 
 they should be, so long as employers of skilled and other 
 labour have to pay a higher wage than their Continental 
 neighbours. With wages as they are in England, many kinds 
 of manufacturers, to remain solvent and reduce the price of 
 their goods, would be compelled to reduce the standard of 
 quality also. That they could ill afford to do, for it is on the 
 very ground of superlative quality thoroughness, solidity, 
 durability, and finish that England supplies a want which is 
 generally acknowledged in the foreign markets of the world. 
 But that reputation is already questioned. The author of 
 
44 ME. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 John Bull and his Island asserts that u England is the home 
 of shoddy. Thanks to free trade, you have a cardboard villa 
 for 200 and a silk umbrella for one shilling and sixpence." 
 . . . . " The quality must often suffer from this mad rage 
 for buying in the cheapest market." May not we find an 
 illustration of the tampering with a reputation for quality to 
 secure a reputation for cheapness (or low prices) in the history 
 of the Lyons silk trade. Formerly Lyons silks had a 
 superlative reputation for quality, but drapers say this is a 
 thing of the past, for the Lyons makers, emulous of beating 
 other and inferior makers in price, had no alternative but to 
 resort to their tricks of manufacture. Thus, through this short- 
 sighted policy, the Lyons silk trade is in this unfortunate 
 position: It has lost a once world-wide reputation for 
 undeniable quality, and has consequently lost the better prices 
 which a reputation for a superlative make must always 
 command. The commercial virtue of quality in manufacture 
 has an existence of equal delicacy to virtue of character ; once 
 damaged, its repair is beset with prodigious difficulty, for in 
 either case there are a thousand vested interests at work to 
 keep in the gutter of an evil reputation that which has once 
 been kicked there. 
 
 This national aspect of the question, in our commercial 
 relations to foreign countries, is one so pregnant and suggestive 
 that it might well form the subject of a complete paper ; I am 
 only able to refer to it in passing, but I cannot leave it 
 entirely, without raising a point for discussion which some art 
 member may touch upon more fully. Possibly w r e shall all 
 agree that British artists command a higher price for their 
 pictures than those of any other country. If that be so it is of 
 the very greatest importance that canvas and pigments should 
 be of the most enduring quality. We all know what the use of 
 questionable colouring matters has done towards damaging the 
 reputation of Turner and reducing the value of his marvellous 
 works, and how in that damaged colouring they suggest an 
 
THE CRAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 4-.") 
 
 age twice as great as the four centuries that the paintings of 
 Van Eyck have existed, to excite the admiration of generations 
 of artists, on account of their almost miraculous brilliancy and 
 durability of colour. If it is not now possible to obtain colours 
 and canvas which shall stand the fair wear of centuries, the 
 purchasers of great modern English works at enormous prices 
 for foreign galleries may be paying too dearly for pictures which 
 may contain in their composition the germs of deterioration 
 and premature decay. Every well-wisher to English art will 
 hope devoutly that the surmise may be an unfounded one ; 
 but even a casual scrutiny of the works of some British artists 
 at the South Kensington Museum, the National Gallery, the 
 House of Commons, and the Burlington House Diploma 
 Gallery will supply material for somewhat unpleasant 
 speculation. Successful modern artists who would have their 
 reputation live in honour would do well to avoid one flaw in 
 the art policy of Rubens, who sometimes sacrificed quality to 
 quantity, by employing so many tyros to work on his reputed 
 canvases that the present critical and doubting age is 
 somewhat shy of works attributed to the great master, seeing 
 that paintings alleged to be by Rubens cover Dutch and 
 Belgic walls by the acre, and in some cases libel his genius 
 most abominably. Pictures he undoubtedly touched were 
 sometimes produced with only a cheap amount of his personal 
 labour ; but they are not the pictures which have won him 
 enduring fame. What could be a greater contrast than his 
 grand Antwerp masterpieces (full of his own genius, personal 
 and unmistakable,) and the dull commonplaces of the HOUM> 
 in the Wood at the Hague ? 
 
 If we now pass from the world of art to the world of 
 literature we shall there find abundant proofs of the baneful 
 influence of the popular appreciation of cheapness, which puts 
 a mischievous pivmium on the shallow and crude. It is 
 notorious that the price and time pressure put upon authors 
 by publishers of cheap periodical literature leaves small 
 
46 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 chance for thoroughly matured work. The marvel is that 
 under the circumstances it is done so well. But the great 
 mass of the public are happy and contented ; the huge weekly 
 issue of fact and comment is quite enough to supply the 
 literary tastes of the multitude ; thus, their whole available 
 time is engrossed with the necessarily superficial, which 
 crowds out and overlaps and obscures the great masterpieces 
 of past authorship which should so materially help to create 
 character, prompt to sound judgment in life, and assist the 
 reader to rise superior to the petty vexations which beset his 
 daily path. The practice so largely in fashion of paying for 
 literary work by the page, or the column, puts a premium 
 upon superficial authorship and exalts quantity above quality ; 
 and the premium upon the superficial becomes all the greater 
 when the writer is plagued by the pressure of need. This 
 premium upon authors for quantity rather than quality tells 
 its tale in the pages of the Athenaeum. There are advertise- 
 ments of books without end but how many survive the 
 vicissitudes of a year ? How few will be known ten years 
 hence, or command a profitable sale for half that time ? They 
 have cost the author small time and little brain wear to 
 produce ; the publisher has cut his part of the cost very fine ; 
 in one sense the public has had a cheap book, but which of the 
 parties can indulge in pleasurable retrospection ? You may 
 fill a mile of bookshelves with such works, but what good 
 are they for permanent reference, pleasurable reperusal, or 
 quotable authority ? When a good price is paid for high 
 quality in authorship, the sale of the book is usually enduring, 
 and thus, though the original outlay may be ten times that for 
 feeble mediocrity, the investment is one which keeps the 
 balance on the right side of the ledger through the steady 
 profits of a permanent sale. When Longmans paid Macau lay 
 a 20,000 cheque for one edition of his History of England, of 
 which 26,500 copies were sold in ten weeks, and Murray paid 
 at various times to Lord Byron 23,540 for his poetical works, 
 
THE CRAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 47 
 
 the public may have been amazed at the huge array of 
 imposing figures; but then it was in consideration of work 
 which bore the hall mark of exalted genius, and which 
 the publishers knew full well would have a permanent 
 association with the literature of England. In his Life of 
 J^ 1 rides, Plutarch has justly observed that "ease and speed in 
 the execution seldom give a work any lasting importance or 
 exquisite beauty; while on the other hand the time which is 
 expended in labour is recovered and repaid in the duration of 
 the product." It is true enough that some notable works of 
 enduring fame have been written with remarkable celerity, 
 but they may have simmered in the mind for years, and the 
 mere penmanship has generally been the final touch to 
 carefully matured thoughts. Gray took seven years to com- 
 plete his immortal Elegy ; Milton and Dante composed slowly 
 and with infinite pains ; Rogers employed seven years in 
 producing the Pleasures of Memory ; and over a poem of 
 346 lines, Boileau composed, touched, and retouched for three 
 \vnrs and eleven months. There is truth in Sheridan's remark 
 that easy writing is often very hard reading. 
 
 And this craze for cheap literary work exerts a degrading 
 influence on contemporary authorship by directly discouraging 
 thoroughness and research in preparation. How can authors 
 afford the time they demand ? Imagine such amazing 
 monuments of research as Buckle's History of Civilization in 
 fciujltnid being produced under such wretched auspices, when 
 even the list of authors quoted and referred to by Buckle 
 includes something like 000 authorities. It has also dis- 
 
 O 
 
 cou raged the splendid and costly products of the Press in 
 which art, literature, and travel have each combined to the 
 furtherance of one grand result. Dare even the most wealthy 
 and enterprising <>t' enntemporary publishers risk the pro- 
 duction of works which would vie in massive grandeur with 
 Gould's Birds or Dugdale's Monasticon, or the nobly devised 
 County Histories of a past generation ? It is true such books 
 
48 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 as these were often subscription works, and thus the risk of 
 publication was greatly reduced, but who in 1884 would find 
 the public to subscribe ? The love of mere cheapness has 
 worked an indifference for such magnificent thoroughness of 
 purpose as these truly splendid works demanded in their 
 design and execution. 
 
 If we pass from what is almost the exclusive labour of 
 the mind to the wider areas of mechanical labour, shall we 
 not here too find unpleasant traces of the evils resulting from 
 the constant demands for cheapness ? As in the case of the 
 mind worker, the artizan who works with his hands as well as 
 his mind is constantly tempted to degenerate into the mere 
 " wood-spoiling scamper." Speed and indifferent work are 
 much more popular in some workshops than fair and reason- 
 able time and excellence of finish. The remark applies to a 
 hundred manufacturing trades, but to none more so than to 
 that of the cabinet maker. If sentimental, the girl generations 
 of the future will have no chance to sing of the " old arm 
 chairs " which our age might produce were thoroughness of 
 manufacture as popular as it should be. The gentle associa- 
 tions which surround much of the old family furniture of the 
 Chippendale period of thoroughness and exquisite finish are 
 impossible with the decrepid products of the " cutting " 
 cabinet maker. It is buy one year, patch the second, and sell 
 the third : association becomes a horror and sentiment a farce. 
 What tender associations and noble thoughts were inspired by 
 the memory of the " dear old oak bureau " at which Bnlwer 
 wrote in his youth ; what sturdy and noble furniture was 
 that of which Carlyle wrote when, in reference to the 
 migration of himself and Mrs. Carlyle to London, he says : 
 
 She \vas very hearty for London when I spoke of it 
 
 "Burn our ships!" she gaily said one day i.e., dismantle our house ; 
 carry all our furniture with us. And accordingly here it still is, mostly all 
 of it her father's furniture, whose character of solidly noble is visibly 
 written on it : " Respect what is truly made to its purpose ; detest what 
 is falsely, and have no concern with it." My own heart could not have 
 
THE CRAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 49 
 
 been more emphatic on that subject ; honour to him for its worth to me, 
 not as furniture alone ! My writing-table, solid mahogany, well devised, 
 always handy, yet steady as the rocks, is the best I ever saw ; * ' No book 
 could be too good for being written here," it has often mutely told me. 
 Repeatedly have upholsterers asked, " Who made these 
 chairs, ma'am"? In Cockneydom, nobody in our day; "unexampled 
 prosperity " makes another kind. . . . My pride, fierce and sore 
 as it might be, was never hurt by that furniture of his in the house called 
 mine ; on the contrary my piety was touched, and ever and anon have this 
 table, &c., been a silent, solemn sermon to me. 
 
 How would such " solidly noble " furniture harmonise with 
 the wretched shifts of split skins, tissue thick veneers, and 
 French polish which waxes dull in a month ? 
 
 And is it not quite possible that the impatient unreason- 
 ing rage for domestic show in the present day has put a 
 premium upon a gaudy kind of cheapness in the matter of 
 furniture ? A young couple marry, and they have but modest 
 means. They hardly like running up bills at the outset of 
 domestic life, still they desire to make " a brave show," to have 
 their house completely furnished as soon as the honeymoon 
 is over, forgetting that one of the pleasures of married 
 life is the gradual building up of a home, every part of which 
 shall show the characteristic taste of the creators of that home. 
 But the impatient couples will have everything at once ; the 
 pa^ion for immediate and complete possession of all things 
 domestic impels them to a hundred acts of folly. Wardrobes, 
 sideboard, tables, chairs, bookcase, are all bought new and at 
 once. Modest means and the desire for " everything complete 
 for our ' at homes ' " do not admit of quality being taken into 
 consideration ; quantity there is in abundance, but what of 
 t.-Me and durability? In ten years' time the eye is wearied 
 with shabbiness and ugliness; perhaps energetic little hands 
 have tested the " breaking strain " of the cabinet maker's 
 modern rubbish to an extent bordering on the distracting; rub 
 as tin- servants \\ill there is no shine in table or chair; the 
 split skins of the couch are seamed and torn in spite of 
 
50 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 ingenious patchwork repairs ; the premature decay of the 
 household gods is a " little wearing " to the wife who is so 
 perpetually face to face with their hideous defects ; the 
 sensitive husband looks around him and is conscious of the 
 pangs which arise from an atmosphere of shabbiness, and 
 worst of all these domestic evils grow in exact proportion to 
 the improved taste which a quiet observation of other and 
 better devised homes has created ; the Homes which are not 
 built in a day stand the time test with honour ; to furnish 
 with haste is to repent at leisure. 
 
 Here then we find the fair sex sometimes at fault ; but 
 candour suggests that this is not the only case of impulse 
 getting the better of discretion. There are plenty of un- 
 principled builders who trade upon this occasional want of 
 discretionary balance in the feminine mind. The ecstatic 
 impulse engendered by a charming treatment of decoration in 
 the drawing room by the crafty builder causes some im- 
 pressionable ladies to soar into an empyrean quite above 
 drains and a dozen other matters of important detail relative 
 to quality in construction ; the calmer judgment of the more 
 prosaic husband is set at naught ; his nervous notions are 
 bundled to Old Fogeydom, wherever that may be ; beauty 
 prevails, and at leisure beauty repents when the fine chiselling 
 of her classic nose is damaged by colds which always will 
 arrive when dances are abundant, and a doting mother finds, 
 too late, that her dear ones are always ailing. The mere rent 
 may be moderate, but how does it look plus the annual bill 
 of the doctor, and a fair yearly margin for furniture damaged 
 by damp and the repairs incident to leasehold possession ? 
 
 But there is another Nemesis in store for some impulsive 
 .and bargain hunting ladies besides that I have named as the 
 fate of the unreflecting house hunter. Is it not true, beyond 
 question, that there is a section of the fair sex who are 
 constantly flitting from shop to shop in quest of bargains, 
 cheapening this and cheapening that, irrespective of ultimate 
 
THE CRAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 51 
 
 consequences ? Their demand for cheap goods makes an 
 urgent demand for cheaper labour, for tradesmen cannot be 
 expected to reduce what are often already merely marginal 
 profits to suit the insatiate appetite for cheapness possessed by 
 some of their customers. Occasionally the reckless spirit of 
 the retail trader to " do business at any price " prompts him 
 to cut down for the second or third time figures which were 
 originally only marginal, with the ultimate result of closed 
 shutters and a visit to Mr. Registrar Hazlitt. But more fre- 
 quently the reduction in price is effected through pressure put 
 on the manufacturer who adjusts matters by a huge employ- 
 ment of girl labour. Ultimately there is a doleful lamentation 
 goes up on the part of these very ladies at the enormous 
 want's demanded by servants, their remarkable scarcity and 
 their general decline in quality. Of course there are these 
 evils cropping up. We cannot eat and still possess our cake. 
 Thf labour market is open to girls and they go into it, not so 
 much in the vacancies of domestic servitude, but in the 
 constant and more varied openings associated with manu- 
 facture. In tin- latter they get more freedom, little supervision 
 in their leisure hours, and greater chances for association with 
 the opposite sex. If. through incapacity to adapt themselves 
 to the requirements of their employer or slackness in trade, 
 they enter the lists of domestic servitude, their excessive 
 Radicalism is a little trying; their " rights " are as the sands 
 >n the seashore in multitude ; they smash and break right 
 and left; they indoctrinate hitherto quiet fellow servants with 
 5?aya which, to put it mildly, are slightly immodest; and for 
 all these accomplishments they ask a wage which might be 
 considered high for irreproachable excellence. Verily, with 
 the lady bargain hunter, it is often a case of ' the engineer 
 hoist with his own petard." 
 
 What may gem-rally be described as the health aspect of 
 the "craze for cheapness" is so wide a one that it can only 
 admit of a passing notice ; I leave its development to the 
 
52 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 scientific and medical, and yet I cannot wholly ignore its 
 presence. Recently, and with justice, the London journals 
 have paid considerable attention to a valuable paper read at 
 the late Pharmaceutical Conference by Professor Attfield on 
 " The Relation of the State to Pharmacy." In clear and 
 cogent language the writer points out the almost criminal folly 
 of people purchasing cheap drugs for themselves and their 
 children, ignoring the all important and vital point of quality 
 in these essential matters. It is an evil that through this 
 growing practice there should be a chance of the highly 
 educated and honourable vendor of pure drugs being reduced 
 to undignified shifts to eke out a precarious living for the 
 profession of chemist and druggist generally to sink in 
 character, as it must do if ground down by an ignorant and 
 unscrupulous and unjust competition. But the evil comes 
 closer home to the general public than that. Let me quote an 
 example from Professor Attfield : 
 
 A mother has been tempted to purchase paregoric elsewhere than of 
 a druggist, not knowing that, unless the sale is an illegal one, the article 
 is free from that opium to which, when present in proper proportion, 
 much of the efficacy of the medicine is due. The compound being thus 
 weak, she almost necessarily gets into the habit of giving considerably 
 enlarged doses to her children. Some day there happens to be in the 
 house, by accident, paregoric of proper official strength purchased of a 
 chemist and druggist. The usual large dose is administered. Then, 
 perhaps, all effortsto rouse her child from its deep sleep are unavailing. 
 But to multiply illustrations where general facts are so palpable is 
 unnecessary. 
 
 Passing over cheap food and its constant adulteration, the 
 evils to the constitution resulting therefrom, and the dis- 
 tressing impositions practised upon the credulity of the poor 
 in this respect, we may leave the health aspect of the question 
 to those who follow me after one more illustration with which 
 we have all come in contact. I refer to false economy, which 
 prompts those who can afford to act more wisely to purchase 
 cheap publications, badly printed, with faint ink and dim- 
 inutive type. In this reading age, when the doctor's coachman 
 
THE CRAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 53 
 
 is a conspicuous student, when the cabman reads on his box, 
 and half of every train full of passengers is similarly engaged, 
 it becomes all the more needful that the constantly conned 
 page should be printed in fairly legible type, as the conditions 
 of perusal are so often unfavourable. City frequenters have 
 recently seen large barrows full of penny Oliver Twist's. The 
 price has been marvellous, but the type so closely set and 
 diminutive that it is really terrible to contemplate the damage 
 to the sight of the shopboys of London by the broadcast issue 
 of this one publication. On the same grounds, is it not 
 reasonable to associate some of the causes of the well-known 
 imperfections of German sight to their constant close study of 
 books produced in a cheap and inferior manner ? And besides 
 this, we may well remember that of two students studying 
 abstruse facts from two editions of the same work the one 
 produced in clear legible type and the other in minute he 
 who has the best edition is least likely to suffer from mental 
 exhaustion, because he has been quite unconscious of the 
 merely mechanical part of perusal, and this point gathers force 
 when the reading is a protracted one in artificial light. 
 
 We now come to the moral aspect of the " craze for 
 cheapness," and I venture to think that a great deal of what 
 has already been discussed clears our ground on this head. In 
 some part of their history what we call cheap things are 
 constantly associated with fraud, oppression, or imposition. It 
 has l>een justly said by a recent preacher at Westminster 
 Abbey that "the woman who feels she is God's daughter 
 cannot wear cheap garments, with every stitch of which there 
 has gone a sigh from a sister's broken heart." What is such 
 grinding down of wages but a direct premium on vice and 
 theft ( The young girl who contrasts the tears, the groans, 
 the abject poverty <f th- tnmser finisher at '2\(\. per pair, who 
 finds her own thread -of poor wretches who give seventeen 
 hours' work (virtually consecutive) for one shilling of the 
 wan toilers who receive lOd. a dozen for shirt making, and 3d. 
 
54 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 per dozen for lawn tennis aprons, has a grievous problem 
 before her when she compares these earnings of needy virtue 
 with the quickly won wage, and ten times greater, of those 
 who have no scruples as to how and where they get it. The 
 author of Outcast London says : 
 
 A child seven years old is known easily to make 10s. (3d. a week by 
 thieving ; but what can he earn at matchbox making, for which 2]d. a 
 gross is paid, the maker having to find his own tire for drying his boxes 
 and his own paste and string? Before he can gain as much as the young 
 thief he must make 5(5 gross of matchboxes a week, or 1,20(5 a day. 
 Thoughtless braggarts may boast of our national social 
 economy, but how can that be economic which saves the 
 domestic pocket in matters of petty detail by putting a 
 premium on crime at the very threshold of thousands of young 
 lives, on crime which costs the nation not only an enormous 
 total of hard cash in the expense of supervision, but secures 
 for the country generation after generation of thieves as the 
 result of parental practice and example ? Those who have 
 created the hideous and cruel Frankenstein called " Cutting- 
 Prices " must not murmur if its authors are constantly 
 numbered amongst its victims ; the ways of Justice may be 
 circuitous and her step leaden, but she alwaj^s takes the road 
 to retribution, and the blow, if tardy, is inevitable. Nor does 
 the evil of " cutting prices " cease here. There is a broad and 
 great subject for discussion in the fact that work which is 
 faulty in character always tends to degrade the mind of the 
 worker ; but this point must be left for others who follow me ; 
 I pass on to the evil effects of " cutting prices " and unscrupu- 
 lous competition on the mind and life of the seller. How can 
 such tradesmen take a just pride in their business or goods ? 
 The rubbish with which they are constantly associated, 
 combined with a critical knowledge of its actual intrinsic 
 value, deals a blow at self-respect, which the vendor of a 
 sound article at a fair price need never jeopardise. The 
 merely cheap article can seldom, if ever, be recommended 
 save at the cost of a direct lie. The " cutter " may one 
 
THE CEAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 55 
 
 day be cut out himself; he plays with edged tools 
 which may work his own destruction. And if not, does he 
 find his life, at the. best, worth living ? He hates and is 
 hated ; the " stab and murder your neighbour " principle, the 
 " kick down and keep down " policy, is hardly conducive to 
 friendship; it grinds the nerves into such a state of irritability 
 that the poor victim can hardly drag out a smile for his little 
 ones ; it would be extravagance to waste one on dependents, 
 most of all on those in his trade. Occasionally, through some 
 unknown crooked ways, the " cutter " secures wealth ; then he 
 becomes too often a melancholy exponent of the " vanity of 
 human wishes "; with impaired nerves and only tastes which 
 are coarse and vulgar, he has no power to enjoy that which 
 alone can give pleasure, and he dies a sad example of the 
 truth that " a man may reach affluence and yet remain little 
 better than a brute ; nay, he may reach it by means which 
 go far to keep him and make him a brute." 
 
 Even the precincts of the pulpit are degraded by our 
 national " craze for cheapness." The preacher must often 
 work for a wage which a bricklayer or carpenter would 
 disdain with scorn ; we are proud of our national generosity, 
 and yet gentlemen of taste and culture are expected to live in 
 gentility and preach nobly on stipends which degrade by their 
 cruel insignificance and make all subordinate to the ignoble 
 problem of how Ivjst to meet the demands of butcher and 
 baker. Nor is this all. Too lazy to think, the multitude often 
 accept the position of thinking by proxy ; their attention to 
 the preacher is the service of the eye but not of the mind 
 they fool themselves with the cheap make-believe of thinking 
 and are guilty of the folly which worthy John Hales, of 17th 
 century fame, denounced when he ridiculed his hearers 
 " neglecting their own knowledge and securely hazarding 
 themselves upon others 1 skill." It is a folly which the first 
 question of a child can confound, to say nothing of ultimate 
 and graver results. 
 
56 THE CRAZE FOR CHEAPNESS. 
 
 Reference to the pulpit suggests one of the remedies for 
 the " craze for cheapness." So long as folly, and greed, and 
 selfishness, and stupidity exist, the craze will certainly endure. 
 But it is possible to reduce its area of evil, and the teaching of 
 the pulpit may be a means to that end. When the craze is 
 pushed to extremes the bitter lessons of experience may in a 
 thousand ways be roughly enforced on those who are too selfish 
 or too stupid to learn from any more gentle monitor. It may 
 be possible that the fate of those who would have others make 
 bricks without straw may have an ominous nineteenth 
 century repetition. But be that as it may, one thing is clear 
 to every thoughtful observer mere cheapness is seldom, if 
 ever, economy. Relative values and successes can only be justly 
 estimated by results and the unerring verdict of time and 
 experience. There are already signs of a turn in the tide. 
 With shopkeepers and public the question is beginning to be 
 asked, " Is the game worth the candle " ? Closed shops, worn 
 out lives, bankruptcy notices, and sales by the score, in which 
 cheap household goods are " sold for a song," tell a significant 
 tale. There are signs of the revival of a taste for the genuine 
 and the thorough. England is crazy in spasms. She was 
 devoured by a cheap virtue craze when she scornfully cast 
 out her idol Byron. One day she is crazy for skating rinks 
 and the next for spelling bees. But the ballast of common 
 sense lights the good ship, and the ballast always remains ; 
 it has been her salvation in the past, and that fact illumines 
 the horizon of the future ; to that common sense we may again 
 look with hope, and we shall not look in vain. 
 
 January 28th, 1884, 
 
" Ought the Volunteer Movement to 
 
 receive a Greater Measure 
 
 of National Support " f 
 
 By Acting-Surgeon W. A. F. BATEMAN, 5th Surrey 
 Rifle Volunteers. 
 
 N the paper I have the honour of reading 
 this evening, I ask the question " Ought the 
 Volunteer movement to receive a greater 
 measure of national support " ? I have selected 
 tliis subject, first, because I believe it contains the elements of 
 an interesting debate ; secondly, because I think it important 
 enough to justify any effort, however small, to awaken the 
 English people to a sense of the improvidence of not more 
 thoroughly insuring against possible disaster; and, lastly, 
 because I believe it would be a wise and patriotic policy to 
 extend a more generous support to the Volunteer organization. 
 I wish in this paper to describe, as fairly as I am able, 
 the true condition of the force with regard to its capacity for 
 taking the field as a last line of defence in the event of an 
 invasion of our shores. I wish to emphasize its claim upon 
 the nation's esteem, to criticise its deficiencies and its 
 Weaknesses; and for purposes of debate, and to challenge an 
 expression of opinion, I venture to give the result of my own 
 reflections as to its efficiency at the present time. But before 
 discussing the force as a military machine I should like to say 
 a few words of its individual members the rank and file the 
 bone and brain and sinew which form the aggregate of our 
 200,000 Volunteers. 
 
58 MR. W. A. F. BATEMAN ON 
 
 Now I have no hesitation in saying that whether we 
 consider this large body of men morally, physically, or 
 intellectually ; whether we regard them in respect to their 
 average age, height, chest measurement, or general uprightness 
 of character, they will compare favourably with any equal 
 number of men in the world, and I venture to think that no 
 other nation save our own (considering how they have been 
 constituted) could produce their like. They are drawn from 
 that English stock every one of whom it was the fashion of 
 our forefathers to consider better than two or three foreigners 
 sound of wind, strong of limb, and healthy minded ; none of 
 your weak and weedy, beardless, short service boys, whom " our 
 one general" vaunts, but, if he can help it, never employs; but 
 men men with convictions, strong for the right and full of 
 patriotism the very elite of the intellectual and artizan 
 classes. In the past history of England such men as these 
 made her great and glorious, and in the time to come these 
 Volunteers, give them proper equipment and discipline (for 
 they require this), arm them with the best rifle and teach the 
 whole of them to shoot, feed and clothe them when necessary, 
 and, above all, make suitable provision for them when 
 wounded or sick, and they will fully maintain, when called 
 upon, England's reputation among the nations of the world for 
 gallantry and the power of stubborn resistance. Hitherto the 
 Government of the country have not considered these possible 
 needs under given circumstances, and indeed have extended 
 only a faltering help to the auxiliary forces. If the efficiency 
 of the Volunteers is considerable, it is the outcome alone of 
 their own pluck and determination ; neither of the great 
 political parties of the State, in power or out of power, have 
 seriously extended to them a helping hand. Neither 
 Conservatives nor Liberals have sought to lead the public to 
 consider this really great question of Volunteer equipment- 
 Public opinion on military organisation is chiefly manufactured, 
 together with " peace-at-any-price " and other articles of 
 
THE NATIONAL SUPPORT OF VOLUNTEERS. 59 
 
 shoddy, by Radical doctrinaires at Birmingham. I wish to 
 speak with proper respect of a man whose name is revered by 
 many, and who for good or evil has stamped his genius in 
 strong relief on the pages of modern English history ; but I 
 maintain that Mr. John Bright, however great as an authority 
 on certain political problems, is only a veiled " Prophet of 
 Korrassan " on any question that involves the safe guardian- 
 si iip of the empire, or that affects its military prestige The 
 baleful oratory of Birmingham has helped already to lull the 
 nation into a dangerous repose, and the drowsy influence 
 MM-ins so strong that, like the " voice of the sluggard," a wail 
 of complaint arises, if the peaceful dream is disturbed by 
 visions of insecurity and danger. It is humiliating no doubt 
 to reflect that our high civilization is prolific in "shams," 
 and I fear that the Volunteer force, from no fault of its 
 own, has had to assume the national veneer. Occasionally 
 the Government, wishing probably to bluster some foreign 
 State, thinks it necessary to " shew its muscle." The modern 
 device is a demonstration. This is one of the " shams " of the 
 age. It means the collection of an armed force that does not 
 mean to fight if it can possibly help it. We generally go in 
 for a naval demonstration, as it is the easiest form of swagger 
 we can indulge in. At Dulcigno a solemn farce of this kind 
 was performed with blank cartridges and the smiling obligato 
 accompaniment of the Continental Powers. Occasionally, 
 however, our rulers desire to treat the world to a military 
 display. Regular troops would be quite out of the question ; 
 in the first place we have not enough of them ; and secondly, 
 it would really cost too much to collect 20,000 men, scattered 
 as they are over the United Kingdom. In this difficulty 
 the Government remember their neglected Volunteers. How 
 gratifying to the force to be brought prominently before the 
 world, and how excellently it suits the official convenience to 
 parade in some of the pomp and a little of the circumstance 
 of war thousands and thousands of these citizen soldiers 
 
60 ' MR. W. A. F. BATEMAN ON 
 
 carrying their obsolete rifles.* Some time ago 50,000 men were 
 thus reviewed before Her Majesty the Queen in Windsor Park. 
 The Goverment practically said to France, to Russia, to 
 the whole world, " Behold, here is a sample of our 200,000 
 trained Englishmen, capital shots everyone of them, excellent 
 constitutions, awfully plucky fellows ; and there are tens of 
 thousands of such who have passed through this training over 
 and above the 200,000." But is there not a little veneer in all 
 this ? If the Government told the whole state of the case 
 they would say, " Here are 50,000 fine fellows, the raw 
 material of a magnificent army ; but they have only what 
 they stand upright in ; their rifles are out of date ; * in a real 
 campaign we have no means to supply them with ammunition 
 after they have shot away that in their pouches ; they have 
 no stores of uniforms, great coats, or boots, and we, the 
 Government, do not allow them to be supplied with these 
 materials from the Government factories; and if their com- 
 manding officers were on active service they would no longer 
 be able to provide these necessaries by private contract. They 
 have no commissariat, and they have no staff of men instructed 
 in commissariat duties. They have no ambulance wagons, 
 hospital tents, surgery wagons, pharmacy wagons, and, 
 compared to the force, only a very few men trained as sick 
 bearers. They have no field service and no water carts ; 
 indeed they are deficient in everything that enables an army 
 to move and exist during a campaign. After a week or ten 
 days' active service this magnificent body of 50,000 men 
 that we are flourishing off before you would either die of 
 exposure and starvation or have to surrender themselves, 
 together with their empty, obsolete Birmingham rifles- 
 victims to Birmingham doctrinaires, an improvident Govern- 
 ment, and of a false sense of security enjoyed by a 
 confiding people." I maintain, therefore, that to have a 
 
 *The Martini-Henry rifle had not been served out to the Volunteers when this 
 paper was read. 
 
THE NATIONAL SUPPORT OF VOLUNTEERS. 61 
 
 national army without the means of keeping it alive during 
 active service is to have a national sham and a possible danger. 
 We English people are given to take into our systems 
 a large proportion of " cant " as political pabulum. We speak 
 of the Millenium as if we all belonged to the Society of 
 Friends, and of the advantages of civilization as if we did 
 not know that half the savagery of the world is perpetrated 
 in its name. Birmingham pipes its pastoral strains of peace, 
 and whilst so piping, under the guidance of a gifted minister, 
 we lay in ruins a great city belonging to a friendly State. 
 Without being at war we invade its shores, and in the cause of 
 its liberties we slaughter uselessly thousands of its people. Let 
 me say here that this is not intended as a political paper in a 
 party sense ; if I allude to some of the great events of the 
 day, I do so only to support the view I am now considering, 
 namely that some great reform in our miltary system is likety 
 to become a necessity of our national existence. Before there- 
 fore particularising the defects of the Volunteer organization, 
 allow me to take a brief survey of our relationship with 
 foreign States. If we stand in no danger of an invasion by an 
 n.'iiiy, then the raison d'etre of the Volunteer force falls to 
 the ground. The country can save the very small sum it 
 expends on its game at soldiers, and " the goose step " may as 
 well disappear from among us. But if there exists cause to 
 apprehend the hostility of some one or more of the Continental 
 Powers then we should leave no weak joint in our armour, and 
 our last line of defence should be one upon which the nation 
 could repose in confidence and calmness. This seems to me the 
 more necessary since we ourselves have set an international 
 fashion of doubtful morality, that some day may accrue to our 
 own disadvantage. High imperial policy beyond ordinary 
 powers of judgment may have dictated our action in Egypt. 
 Be this as it may, there can be no gainsaying the fact that to 
 Mr. Gladstone belongs the glory (if glory it be) of abolishing 
 the old time-honoured practice of declaring war in a formal 
 
62 ME. W. A. F. BATEMAN ON 
 
 and solemn manner before blowing a friendly people into the 
 air. Imitation is said to be the truest flattery, and certainly 
 France lost no time in adopting the national ethics of Mr. 
 Gladstone. We, being at peace with Egypt, anchored our fleets 
 in the Bay of Alexandria, and with little risk to ourselves 
 destroyed the town and razed its forts to the ground. France, not 
 being at war with China, caused its fleet to take post in the 
 rear of the forts of Foochow (a position most difficult to attain 
 under conditions of war), and from this convenient place 
 destroyed the shipping and reduced its forts to ruin. The scope 
 of this paper allows no time to dwell on these international 
 moral monstrosities, but the aimiment I wish to adduce from 
 
 o 
 
 them is, that if this modern theory of " Peace when there is no 
 peace " receives the sanction of use, then how terribly vital it 
 is to our national safety that we keep our powder dry, our 
 forces prepared and ready, and our watchmen on the to\vor. 
 The disasters that befel the Egyptians at Alexandria and 
 Tel-el-Kebir, the massacre of the Chinese at Foochow may 
 suggest to our enemies similar operations on our own coast. 
 An uninvited visit from 50,000 greedy, loot-loving foreigners, 
 with a due proportion of artillery, would be paying a 
 compliment for lessons taught in Egypt not at all to the taste 
 of the English people. But I ask, should not we, like the 
 unwise virgins of Scripture, have only ourselves to blame if we 
 were caught unprepared ? The political horizon has been 
 lurid with warnings and complications, and we ourselves have 
 set this evil example that may lead to our own sorrow. In 
 passing I may say that we have to thank the Gladstone 
 Government for one wise and patriotic action. They put their 
 veto on the Channel Tunnel Scheme, and this act was the 
 more gratifying since it came with the pleasant shock of 
 unexpected wisdom. Now if the Volunteers are ever brought 
 into line for active service it will be in consequence of our 
 regular forces being employed in defence of our possessions 
 abroad. This paper is too brief to enable me to cast a glancj 
 
THE NATIONAL SUPPORT OF VOLUNTEERS. 63 
 
 along the extended line of our scattered frontiers to point out 
 the many possible combinations of circumstances that might 
 work together to the end of absorbing or holding in check the 
 bulk of our not too numerous regular soldiers, but a few 
 allusions will be sufficient to indicate my meaning. But a few 
 short years ago " alarmists," as they were scoffingly called in 
 a certain school of political thought, directed attention to the 
 malign and snake-like progress of Russia towards our Eastern 
 Empire. That small cloud in Central Asia, then no larger than 
 a man's hand, has at the present time developed into a pressing 
 anxiety indeed so imminent has the danger become that the 
 Government of the day have been compelled to recognise its 
 existence, even to the extent of reversing some portion of its 
 own policy in that region. The abandoned railway to Quetta 
 has been hastily pushed towards completion, and though they 
 have not yet scuttled back again to Candahar, indications are 
 not wanting that some such undertaking may soon become 
 necessary. They have not done so however until the Russian 
 camp-fires are blazing within sight of the Afghan frontier.* 
 Now an invasion of Afghanistan by Russia would be 
 practically an invasion of the Indian Empire. At the 
 present time our military authorities are engaged in 
 drawing a boundary-line separating Afghanistan from the 
 Russian possessions in Central Asia. This boundary-line 
 reminds me of a favourite athletic game a line is chalked on 
 the ground, two sets of men arm themselves with a rope, and 
 then begins the " tug of war." When this struggle does come, 
 as come it must, the Indian army will have to be reinforced 
 from England by something like h'fty or sixty thousand men, 
 perhaps double that number. I ask you how could the 
 Government at the present time spare such a force ? Ireland 
 alone absorbs half an army corps to administer the conciliation 
 policy of Mr. Gladstone. Some of our young men have gone 
 to South Africa to wash away in blood perhaps the stains of 
 
 The Penjdeh incident occurred after this paper was written. 
 
64 MR. W. A. F. BATEMAN ON 
 
 Majuba Hill, and many more may have to follow. And then 
 there is Egypt, that land of plagues ! Are we not drifting 
 step by step into difficulties with some of the great powers of 
 Europe, Should our country by these possible complications 
 be denuded of its trained defenders, our ships employed by 
 operations in the Mediterranean and in guarding our food 
 supply, would not our shores offer a golden temptation 
 to an enemy ? Should we not incur the certain danger 
 of a hostile demonstration ? In such a too possible 
 contingency the Volunteers would be called upon to take the 
 field. What are their organization, their internal economy, 
 their discipline, and above all, their equipment, that they 
 can ensure for us a safe rampart and a strong line of defence ? 
 
 To answer these questions allow me to turn to the Wai- 
 Office circular for 1877, and study there the war equipment of 
 an army corps of Her Majesty' regular troops, for clearly the 
 equipment necessary for trained soldiers must be equally 
 necessary for the effective arming of Volunteers. They, like 
 the regulars, require boots for marching, great coats and 
 blankets to keep them warm at night, and, although they do 
 not drink so much as Her Majesty's regiments of the line, 
 they still, like them, require a sufficiency of good food and 
 ammunition to fulfil the purposes of war. 
 
 I find an army corps is composed of about 36,000 men 
 all told, each man of the service being represented that is, 
 Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, and Engineers with bearer 
 companies and a medical staff. To each of these separate 
 branches of the service an efficient proportion of the 
 commissariat, transport, and ordnance department is detailed ; 
 it thus forms an independent entity complete in itself. This 
 force is divided into three divisions, and each division into 
 two brigades. But, not to trouble you with too many 
 statistics, I have brought the War Office circular that 
 you may, if you please, verify any of my figures more in 
 detail. 
 
THE NATIONAL SUPPORT OF VOLTNTKKHS. 
 
 The proportion of Infantry, counting all ranks, is about 
 23,000. requiring 252 wagons, mostly drawn by four horses, 
 to convey their baggage and equipment. Cavalry, about 
 4,000 men, requiring sixty wagons; Artillery, about 4,000 
 men, requiring for equipment, baggage, and ammunition, 
 402 wagons; Engineers, 1,400 men, 77 wagons; Commissariat 
 and Transport, 2,300, requires 446 wagons ; Ordnance Depart- 
 ment, 300 men, thirty wagons ; Medical Department, 1,300 
 men, with ambulance wagons, surgery wagons, pharmacy 
 wagons, &c., demanding together 306 wagons, making a grand 
 total of 1,414 officers, and 30,955 non-commissioned officers and 
 men ; and added to these are 4,624 officers and men forming 
 the supply departments. In other words it requires nearly 
 ."),000 men and 1,000 wagons, drawn mostly by four horses to 
 each, to keep a force of 30,000 men alive and efficient. 
 
 These figures are too complex to analyse easily in a short 
 paper, but as a last example let me give the war establishment 
 of an Infantry Regiment of the line, a thousand strong, 
 divided into eight companies. To begin with they require 
 fifteen wagons, drawn by four or two horses, to carry baggage, 
 equipment, and supplies. 
 
 No. 1 wagon, bead-quarter equipment, weight 32cwt., 
 four horses, two drivers. 
 
 No. 2 wagon, quartermaster stores, such as haversacks, 
 materials for repairing accoutrements, axes, buckets, kettles, 
 lanthorns, mallets, spades, various tools, butchery implements, 
 \<-., V.Y.C., weighs 2Sicwt., drawn by four horses, two drivers. 
 
 No. 3 wagon carries intrenching tools, weighs 18-Jcwt., 
 drawn by two horses, one driver. 
 
 Nos. 4, 5, and 6 wagons contain small arm ammunition, 
 10,000 rounds in each wagon; each weighs 20cwt., with two 
 horses and one driver. 
 
 Nos. 7 and s wagons are for food supply, such as preserved 
 meats, biscuits, Hour, tea, coffee, and rum ; each weighs 3.">J, 
 cwt., four horses and two drivers. 
 
 F 
 
6() MK. W. A. F. BATEMAN ON 
 
 Nos. 9, 10, 11, and 12 wagons, that is one wagon for every 
 two companies, convey 1,008 blankets, stretchers, corn, &c., 
 28f cwt., four horses, two drivers. 
 
 Nos. 13, 14, and 15 wagons are to convey tents, each 
 drawn by four horses, with two drivers. 
 
 This then gives some idea, though an imperfect one, of 
 what soldiers require when on active service, and we must 
 remember that this calculation is thought to be necessary for 
 seasoned men, who by habit and training have acquired the 
 instinct of obedience, and who are therefore much less prone to 
 fall into confusion and lose discipline under exposure and 
 privation than would be untrained troops. Guided by the 
 light gained by this bird's-eye view of the equipment of our 
 regular forces, allow me to devote the last few minutes of my 
 allotted time in discovering what we lack in the Volunteer 
 organisation. Holding, as I have done for many years, 
 a commission as surgeon in a very healthy regiment of 
 Volunteers, I have had little else to do during various small 
 campaigns on the Brighton Downs and other fields of mimic 
 war than to arrive at certain conclusions as to the present 
 condition of the auxiliary forces, and I feel no hesitation in 
 expressing my conviction that unless they undergo thorough 
 re-organisation they would be quite unable to meet on hopeful 
 conditions the forces of a properly equipped enemy, for be it 
 remembered that any foreign power strong enough to land 
 troops on our shores would be in a position to land highly 
 trained troops, armed with every refinement of modern 
 'scientific war material, and supplied abundantly with just 
 those very accessories that Volunteers mostly lack. I have 
 already given my opinion of the individual members of this 
 national and remarkable body of men. They personally have 
 done all they can do under present conditions ; the part 
 left undone must be taken up by the Government and the 
 nation. Imagine the Volunteers being suddenly called upon to 
 form an army corps of their own. I take only Infantry 
 
THK NATIONAL SUPPORT OF VoU'NTKKKS. (>7 
 
 Regiments, which are the Volunteer chief arm ; the Artillery. 
 Cavalry, and Engineers are in too hopeless a condition to be 
 worth discussion. The Infantry have no tents, nor have they 
 any knowledge of the way of storing them in wagons, kc. 
 They have no intrenching tools, no implements for cutting 
 wood, no]' Buckets for carrying water; no means for cooking 
 food, slaughtering animals, and cutting up meat; and indeed 
 they have none of the thousand and one necessary implements, 
 too numerous to mention, that make camp life possible and 
 that are absolutely necessary to keep troops from starving. 
 And what is still more important they have no staff of officers 
 who have studied either commissariat or transport duties; such 
 occupations are, 1 suppose, too unemotional, too unromantic, 
 or too matter-of-fact for our enthusiastic young Englishmen. 
 I have shown that an army corps of oO.OOO fighting men 
 requires "on service " f>,000 men to supply them with food and 
 the necessaries of war: therefore if our 20(),()()() Volunteers 
 were divided into five army corps it would be necessary to find 
 the large number of 2.~>.0()() men to act as "hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water/' and these !?.">,()()() men would require as 
 much instruction in the technicalities of this branch of the 
 military service as do those who carry rifles. I would surest 
 that a transport officer and a commissariat officer from Her 
 Majesty s regular forces should be attached to every regiment 
 of Volunteers, and that a certain number of men should he 
 enlisted for instruction in these duties these officers and men 
 to be paid as I will presently suggest. The large expense of 
 militarv wagons would be unnecessary, provided such 
 instruction could be given as would apply to improvising 
 ordinary wagons and vans, local knowledge teaching where 
 such could be bought or requisitioned. Instruction of this 
 kind would include such iti-ms as the cubic space necessary to 
 load so much biscuit, Hour, coffee, .Sec., &c., for the supply of a 
 thousand men for a given number of days, the mode of packing 
 tents, tools. \r., kc., and the order in which they should be 
 
08 MR. W. A. F. BATEMAN ON 
 
 placed. A commissariat department instructed in this way 
 would be susceptible of easy and rapid expansion. This 
 service seems to me to be one of the great necessities of the 
 Volunteer force, and one that must be acquired if they are 
 seriously intended to be a line of defence. 
 
 I now come to consider " efficiency and discipline," and it 
 would be mere affectation if I were to profess that these 
 qualities in the Volunteers are all that can be desired. I 
 think a little thought will convince us that the very 
 organisation of the force precludes perfect efficiency and 
 discipline. Take the proposition that the force shall more or 
 less be self-supporting. Now the great majority of the 
 Volunteers are men who toil with their hands artizans, 
 mechanics ; men whose income depends on the hours of their 
 labour bread winners in fact, and many of them have to win 
 bread for families. Very, very few can afford to take from 
 this bread -winning period of the day ; it is greatly to their 
 honour that they give so many hours of their leisure to the 
 cause of their country, and it seems to me that the nation has 
 no right to ask these men to use any of the time devoted to 
 earning their daily bread, unless they give them an equivalent, 
 for the Volunteer, like the labourer, is worthy of his hire. My 
 suggestion is this that the Volunteer be paid by time, at 
 about the rate that an artizan is paid, that is, if on duty two 
 or three hours he be paid at the same rate as if he were an 
 artizan working for that time some fixed rate from 6d. to Is. 
 an hour; evening duty might count somewhat less. As a lever 
 to improved discipline this pay could be on the " deferred 
 pay " principle, that is, if a man enlisted in a Volunteer 
 regiment for five years, his pay, or a large portion of it, could 
 be kept back until his discharge or re-enlistment at the end of 
 five years. Breaches of discipline or insubordination might 
 incur the loss of this privilege. Another advantage that 
 would accrue from this system would be more daylight and 
 out-of-door drills. Men could afford then to take time from 
 
THE NATIONAL SUPPORT OK VOLUNTEERS. (j<) 
 
 their daily occupations, and even habits of thrift would be 
 engendered, for by this national work they would be storing 
 up a future reward in the shape of deferred pay. A lady who 
 had been absent many years in India with her husband, who 
 held a command in the army, was much struck and amused by 
 the Volunteers always marching out in the dark with all the 
 dignity that could be thumped out of a big drum and a brass 
 band. She said to me one day, when one of these soul- 
 splitting processions was passing her door, " Why do you 
 Volunteers drill at night ? Are you ashamed to be seen in the 
 day time" ? I explained to her that an unappreciative country 
 allowed sunshine to be too expensive a luxury for us. 
 
 It lias been suggested that " pay " would do away with 
 the Volunteer element of the force. A mere word sometimes 
 is thought to be such a priceless boon. But the idea is really 
 ridiculous, for according to the terms of their service 
 Volunteers would still be Volunteers whether they themselves 
 paid their regimental expenses or whether they were provided 
 by the State. Again I ask if this force is of any use to the 
 nation, why should not the nation give it a more liberal 
 support > If it be a patriotic movement, why should only 
 !>()(),()()() Englishmen have a monopoly of patriotism? With 
 the men themselves I believe it to be a labour of love. But 
 it seems to me that the remainder of the 30,000,000 of English 
 people who do not give their time, -their leisure, or their money 
 to this cause, are allowing themselves to remain under an 
 obligation unusual in the histoiy of the people. Let me say a 
 hasty word about Volunteer officers. There is great difficulty 
 in inducing men to accept commissions in the Volunteer force, 
 and the difficulty is an increasing one. Again the question of 
 cost comes to the front. The fact is that the service is too 
 expensive, and many who would like to join are debarred by 
 this consideration. 
 
 I cannot pause to make Mii^e.xtions on this point, except 
 that it has always seemed to me that a larger proportion of 
 
70 ME. W. A. F, BATEMAN ON 
 
 officers from the regular army, say one per company, would lie 
 an advantage. But they of course, being professional soldiers, 
 would have to be paid. This also would have the advantage 
 of quickening promotion in regiments of the line. Efficiency 
 among Volunteer officers I believe to be high, but one branch 
 of study seems to me much neglected. I mean a thorough 
 knowledge of the geography of England, and the topography 
 of each especial district. Every Volunteer should be thorough!}' 
 acquainted with all roads, lanes, and strategic points in that 
 part of the country in which his regiment is stationed. 
 
 L have time only to mention one more point, and that 
 refers to ritie practice. It is a mistake to suppose that 
 Volunteers are all good shots ; most of them are rather bad 
 ones, and certainly not 25 per cent, can be classed as 
 good ones. Money again is the cause. Even Volunteers 
 cannot see to shoot at night ; they cannot afford daylight hours, 
 and they are unable to buy their ammunition. How can 
 working men be expected thus to burn the candle at both 
 ends ? Clearly the Government should supply gratis so many 
 rounds per man per month, and should pay him for the time 
 taken up in target practice. 
 
 You must now allow me to thank you for listening 
 to this I fear most imperfect paper. If you arc 
 disposed to adopt any of the propositions I have put 
 forward, the question arises, how can public opinion be 
 aAvakened to its importance ? How can the nation and the 
 Government be galvanized into action \ The Volunteer force 
 is the child of panic ; must its mature strength await 
 impending disaster ? Unfortunately, the present age in 
 England produces no leaders of men as in Germany. We 
 have only crotchet-mongers. and men who pay fulsome flatteries 
 to the British workman in order to cajole him out of his vote. 
 We Volunteers are 200,000, and we are all " capable citizens " 
 and have a vote. Why should we not make patriotism a 
 crotchet and agitate for improved organisation ? Public 
 
THE NATIONAL SCPPoKT OF VoLt'NTKKKS. 71 
 
 pressure lately lias forced the Government to take some 
 lumbering means to improve the Xavy ; perhaps the time is 
 propitious for the Volunteers. A brand new general election 
 is not far oft", and members of Parliament will swallow 
 anything for a vote anti-vivisection, anti-vaccination, the 
 i nocuous nature of smallpox, blue ribbon, a deceased wife's 
 Bister they are e<[ual to anything ; and if the Volunteers 
 will only make themselves disagreeable enough public opinion 
 will rapidly be on their side, and by its help work such 
 changes in the equipment of Volunteers that should occasion 
 ('me, and danger threaten our shores, we could say to them 
 with King Henry the Fifth : 
 
 Be copy now to men of grosser blood, 
 
 And teach them how to war! and you good yeomen, 
 
 Whose limbs were made in England, show us here 
 
 The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear 
 
 That you are worth your breading, which I doubt not ; 
 
 For there is none of you so mean and base 
 
 That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. 
 
 I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips. 
 
 Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ! 
 
 Follow your spirit : and upon this charge 
 
 Cry (Jod for Harry ! England ! and Saint (ieorge ! 
 
Novels!' 
 
 By the Rev. C. F. COUTTS, M.A. 
 
 FEEL that the subject I have chosen for our 
 discussion this evening is a difficult one, but 
 very interesting to many of us. It is a subject 
 on which I have thought a great deal, for 
 without much thought it would be almost an insult to offer 
 you the present paper. I do not intend to give you a long 
 apology for novel reading, nor an argument against it. I take 
 it for granted that most of us read novels. I can see no reason 
 against it that is not equally against poetry. I do not only 
 >av that a good novel does no harm to the reader, but I 
 maintain that it does good, always provided it is in proper 
 time and place. One might deal in various ways with the 
 subject, and every way would furnish a paper to occupy the 
 half-hour allowed. For instance, there is the history of the 
 British novel, and the cause of its popularity. But I propose 
 here to consider the principal points of a good novel, and 
 then to illustrate ray meaning by the consideration of the 
 works of some of our principal novelists. 
 
 Lest it should be thought presumptuous in one who is not 
 a literary man to lay down the law, I would remind you that I 
 only give anything I say as my opinion after consideration, 
 and I hold myself open to conviction or correction. What is 
 allowable in the way of friendly criticism of the works of 
 -strangers, would !< somewhat impertinent with those of a 
 near neighbour, and then-tore I have abstained from referring 
 to the works of a celebrated novelist living amongst us. That 
 lady is known to many of you personally, and to the whole 
 
74 THE REV. C. F. OOUTTS' 
 
 world by her writings ; so under these circumstances I hardly 
 know whether it would be greater impertinence for me to 
 criticise or to praise. 
 
 I do not intend to let myself i'all into a trap by 
 attempting the definition of a novel. I will consider a novel 
 as "a picture of life" written in prose. For without this 
 prose form, the rivalry of Palamon and Arcite for thr fair 
 Emelye would fulfil some of the ideas of a novel. In con- 
 sidering the points of a " good " novel, I do not mean merely 
 a novel which will sell well, nor one that will be popular and 
 read by many, but "good" from an artistic point of view. 
 With this short explanation I will begin, for 
 
 I have .... a large feeld to ere. 
 
 And wake ben the oxen in my plough. 
 
 A novel ought to be life-like and natural. In a picture 
 nothing will make up for the want of this. No graceful 
 blending of colours, no attention to detail, no fine writing, 
 in my opinion, will make a good work where the main 
 scheme is unnatural and forced. It must be interesting ; it 
 must be life-like. But it need not be, and ought not to be, 
 mere common place life. A picture of an ordinary field might 
 be very like nature, but would convey no pleasure because 
 it is uninteresting. A charming glade of forest, a pretty 
 village, a country lane with flowers, or even the common field 
 with living figures these are the kind of pictures we want. 
 
 As to what is interesting we must allow a good deal of 
 difference in taste, depending on the age and position in life of 
 the reader. There are many good works written which fail to 
 interest some people, whereas to others they are of the most 
 thrilling excitement. For instance, I fail to appreciate Whyte 
 Melville's books, because they deal with a kind of life for 
 which I care little. But I admit their excellence, because so 
 many find them full of interest. The situations ought to have 
 dramatic significance. A telling situation imparts great 
 freshness, whether in a play or in a novel ; and a series of 
 
PAPER OX NOVELS. 7-") 
 
 them, well connected, goes a great way towards making a 
 book popular, without spoiling it as a work of art. 
 
 A novel ought not to be full of violent improbabilities. It 
 is a blot when we are always meeting with surprises, through 
 eliaracters acting in an extraordinary manner. Bui we r Lytton 
 is too much given to strange coincidences of time. In inferior 
 novels, as in some of the best, we are struck by the stupidity of 
 the hero or heroine who fails to see the machinations of the 
 enemy, while we have seen them long before.. Strange 
 creatures may be brought in, but this with very great care, 
 and they must be consistent. Caliban in Shakespeare, and 
 Miss Mowcher in David, Cojpperjield, are good examples of 
 what I mean. We certainly meet with some strange characters 
 in real life, but at long intervals, and a play full of Calibans 
 would be a great mistake. It ought not to be too 
 sensational, for it becomes unlike real life, and fails to give a 
 definite picture to the mind. When Wilkie Collins, in " No 
 Thoroughfare," places his hero and heroine on a narrow ledge 
 of ice thawing beneath them, down a fearful abyss, and with 
 a still greater depth below, he goes so far beyond reasonable 
 probability as to raise a smile, instead of the horror which he 
 intends. And the smile probably becomes a broad grin when 
 we hear the romantic replies of the lady to the question of, 
 How goes it " ? I will give one of them here : 
 
 His heart still beats against mine. I warm him in my arms. I 
 have cast off the rope, for the ice melts under us. and the rope would 
 separate me from him : but I am not afraid. 
 
 Unnatural young woman if she was not. Great 
 e;it;istn>phes of tlie day should be introduced sparingly and 
 cautiously. The bursting of the Bradtield reservoir was a great 
 calamity. But no good point is gained when we find a novel by 
 Charles Reade, and another by .fames Payn, in which it is a 
 leading incident. In each case the hero gallops madly down 
 the valley on horseback, in advance of the rushing water, and 
 saves the heroine, who would otherwise have' been swept away. 
 
76 THE REV. C. F. COUTTS' 
 
 Tliere ought to be an absence of what we may call stage 
 tricks and conventionalisms. Meaningless formula?, such as, 
 " it may better be imagined than described/ 3 " if such an event 
 were told in a novel we would not believe it " I cannot say 
 that they spoil a novel, for it may be good in spite of them ; 
 yet they always detract from it. I am quite tired of the old 
 mixed conversation trick, where we are supposed to be listening 
 to a jumble of people talking on different subjects in the same 
 room, and .the conversations are dovetailed into one another in 
 what is supposed to be a laughable manner. There is a 
 ludicrous parallelism in a stage trick, by even such great 
 novelists as George Eliot and Charles Kingsley. In Felix 
 Holt and Alton Locke the hero of each is required by the 
 author to ba put in prison unjustly, so he leads on a mob with 
 the intention of bringing them oat of mischief, but is 
 imprisoned as one who had led them into mischief. 
 
 An inferior novelist finds it hard to depict the baser 
 qualities of men and women without spoiling the picture by 
 exaggeration. When Dickens or Thackeray paints a vulgar 
 man he is really a vulgar man like Mr. Guppy in Bleak House, 
 or Mr. Osborne in Vanity Fair. But when the daughter of 
 the former paints a vulgar man or woman he or she is such an 
 exaggeration of vulgarity that we no longer realise a person 
 at all. Similarly in dealing with the comic, in a novel, we 
 want life. We can enjoy comedy as a very pleasing part ; but 
 broad farce and burlesque are out of place. I know no better 
 rollicking fun than we meet with in some of Lever's earlier 
 novels ; but it seems quite natural, as he is painting Irish life. 
 I defy the gravest and most sedate man to avoid laughing, if 
 he reads the account of Mickey Free putting a string through 
 a hole in a penny, and when the vice-chancellor of the 
 university stoops to pick it up, giving it a gentle twitch, from 
 his hiding place, leading to strange oaths on the part of the 
 reverend gentleman (a remarkable but well-drawn character): 
 " May the divil admire me, but I saw the ha'penny walk." 
 
PAPER OX XOVKLS. 77 
 
 Then again novels, whether historical or not, which 
 deal with real characters, ought to be strictly true to the 
 character represented. At all events he ought to be represented 
 as he might appear. I see nothing wrong in the picture of the 
 young Pretender in Waverley ; he is as he would appear to an 
 enthusiastic young Englishman, though perhaps in reality he 
 was more like the picture which Thackeray gives of his father 
 in Esmond. Real men ought to be made consistent throughout ; 
 not only in the one book, but in different books by the same 
 author. For instance, no two men could be more unlike than 
 Richard in the Talisman, and Richard in Ivanhoe. True, the 
 circumstances are very much changed, so as to exhibit different 
 traits in his character : but this would not account for the entire 
 difference between the gross bully Richard of the former, 
 and the romantic high-minded Richard of the latter. In a 
 debateable character, like Mary Queen of Scots, for instance, 
 \ve may allow a novelist a good deal of license. But I cannot 
 sufficiently admire the delicate and beautifully-drawn picture 
 of Mary, in the Abbot, where the author seems to leave her 
 guilt an open question, and shows her great powers of 
 fascination. I think Scott's belief and his sympathies seemed 
 to clash : he believed her to be guilty, but he would fain think 
 her innocent. 
 
 Akin to this matter is that of painting real men under 
 fictitious names and circumstances. If the outward seeming is 
 Lciven. tin- whole character ought in common justice to be given. 
 Dickens has been justly blamed for the outward appearance of 
 Leigh Hunt under the guise of Harold Skimpole. I believe no 
 on- who knew Hunt could fail to recognise the likeness, 
 whereas Dickens admitted there was no resemblance in the 
 true character. It therefore did great injustice to Hunt. 
 
 In historical novels, or those in which historical events 
 are introduced, great care ought to be taken to be correct with 
 facts, more especially where the events are comparatively 
 When we are introduced to the Peninsular War or 
 
7S THE REV. C. F. COUTTS* 
 
 the Crimea, mistakes ought not to be made which a little 
 knowledge of Napier or Kinglake would correct. In Charles 
 O'Malley, for instance, we have several errors as to even the 
 leaders of the French army ; Soult for example. He is made 
 to take Oporto some time after Wellesley had resumed the 
 command of the British army, whereas Oporto fell in March, 
 and Sir Arthur only landed April 23rd. Again, in Massena's 
 retreat, Ney and Soult are said to be in command of the 
 rear-guard, instead of which a great object of Napoleon was 
 to make Soult co-operate with Massena, and the former was 
 then at Badajoz, many miles away, while the ability and 
 boldness with which Ney conducted the rear-guard won the 
 admiration of both armies of all, except Massena himself. 
 It takes away from the reality of a book when it records 
 what could not possibly be known. Thackeray seems too 
 careful on this head. He keeps continually accounting for 
 his knowledge of private conversations, &c. This is quite 
 unnecessary: it is sufficient that the information might 
 possibly be conveyed to the author. Dickens treads on the 
 verge where he gives Carker's terror at the approaching 
 engine, the instant before he is killed. This, however, mi</hf 
 be imagined. But for beyond this, in an inferior novel 
 called Rookwood, by Ainsworth, we have a long account 
 of the thoughts and struggles of a man shut up alive in a 
 tomb, from which he never escapes. How could his thoughts 
 be known, so as to be related circumstantially ? 
 
 The, question of the plot is one on which there will be 
 great difference of opinion and of taste. I confess I like a 
 book where there is not too much of a plot. We do not 
 find these exaggerated plots in real life. There are, strange 
 circumstances in life, very strange, within one's own experience, 
 such as would seem unnatural in a novel. But they are 
 mostly disconnected, and do not hang together like the plot of 
 a novel. One great charm of Anthony Trollope's books is 
 that there is little or no plot ; they give a quiet picture of 
 
PAPKR OX NOVELS. 70 
 
 English life just as we might find it ourselves, and yet not 
 humdrum or uninteresting. 
 
 \\Y must remember that a book can only give us 
 a passing glance at the life of its charactei-s, even the 
 leading ones, and therefore there is no necessity, as some 
 novelists seem to imagine, to dispose completely of those 
 which are subsidiary. A picture cannot show the whole of a 
 country (unless it were one of the small German duchies before 
 Prussia swallowed them up) ; but a good picture ought to give 
 a fair idea of the whole. So a good novel, giving only a very 
 small part of the lives of its hero and heroine, ought to give 
 one a vivid impression of their general life, and more especially 
 of their characters. Viewing it thus, it makes one wonder 
 what their domestic life will be after they have married to live 
 happy tor ever after, and I am afraid, when they seem to me 
 an ill-matched pair, I see before them a good deal of misery, 
 or a very prosy life with no natural sympathy between them. 
 
 A pleasant description of scenery is a great help to a 
 novel ; it makes as it were a good background, and helps us to 
 realise the event happening when we can see, in our mind's 
 eye. the place where they occur. Black excels in this, ami so 
 does Scott. In Old Mortality, the meeting in after-life of 
 Morton and Burley and their struggle is made much more 
 vivid by the description of the grandeur of the waterfall and 
 it< surroundings. Still a novel may be very good without 
 any attempt at such description, and where all our interest is 
 centred on the figures. Elegant writing may be reckoned 
 with good scenery; it all adds to the charm, but is not 
 essential. Of course, really poor writing is a blot. Bulwer 
 Lytton and Scott may be considered as setting a high 
 standard. 
 
 In a picture there is often one figure which stands out 
 prominently, and on this central figure the artist generally 
 exerts the utmost of his ability. So in a novel, the central 
 figure or hero, the man in whose welfare we are supposed to 
 
<SO THE REV. f. F. COUTTS' 
 
 take a special interest, ought to be the best and most carefully 
 drawn character. He ought not to be a mere peg on which to 
 hang the story ; yet with some authors he is little better. He 
 is a weak compound of all the excellent qualities which a man 
 can possess, everything that is good, but with no excellence 
 in the painting, no reality. I think this is Sir Walter Scott's 
 chief weakness ; his hero is generally the poorest character in 
 the book. With the exception of Edgar Ravenswood, who 
 is well drawn, I do not remember a single hero who is at all 
 interesting. Frank Osbaldiston, Waverley, Nigel Oliphant, 
 Harry Bertram, young Redgauntlet, are all of the weakest. 
 Look how they are led astray by the first person they come 
 across. Look at Ivanhoe ; not merely the poorest, but perhaps 
 the only poor character in the book. How unfavourable the 
 contrast to the beautiful painting of The Templar, Front-de- 
 Bceuf, Cedric, Gurth, Friar Tuck, Rebecca, and numbers of 
 others. It is the more strange because perhaps no writer 
 comes so near to Shakespeare in the beauty, the variety, and 
 the number of his creations. 
 
 I see no objection to an interest being given to the 
 narrative by the introduction of a little of the supernatural. 
 But it requires to be very carefully managed, and it ought 
 never to be incapable of a reasonable explanation. Scott's 
 Monastery is spoilt by the White Lady of Avenel. The 
 legend belongs to the Erskines, of Dryburgh, and might fairly 
 be introduced. But where the lady jumps up behind a monk 
 on horseback, unseats a border robber, and makes such absurd 
 transformations as those with respect to the duel, it becomes 
 ridiculous and inspires laughter instead of awe. I consider it 
 therefore a blot, in spite of the really beautiful poetry which 
 she discourses. 
 
 I will proceed now to deal with one or two points which 
 immediately affect the whole character of a book The 
 first of these is the question of religion. I am not about 
 to transgress the unwritten rule of the Athenaeum by a 
 
PAPER OX NOVELS. Si 
 
 religious discussion. I very much dislike the general run of 
 so -called religious novels. They are full of narrow bigotry ; 
 they are entirely unlike real life, or if there is a life in any 
 way approaching them it is of a forced and unhealthy nature. 
 In those intended for children, what a false idea is given them 
 >f real life, and even of that at which they ought to aim. 
 Is it George Macdonald who pictures a boy reflecting 
 that father and brother George are very wicked, and 
 accordingly praying for their sins, when one would think there 
 is much more nec.-ssity to pray for his own ? Yet this sweet 
 youth is held up for our admiration. However, Macdonald has 
 written much that is commendable. It is not that the whole 
 subject of religion is to be excluded from a picture of life, but 
 let it be like what occurs in life. Men do not on this subject 
 wear their heart upon their sleeve. Lei> it rather be felt as a 
 religious influence pervading the whole; something which is 
 only discussed with one's most intimate friend; something 
 which is in general taken for granted, but not expatiated upon 
 to rvcrv chance comer. I know of no writer who treats the 
 religious <|ii'-stion more suitably than Charles Kingsley. 
 
 On the other hand, I cannot S-J3 the good of holding 
 persons of a professed religious life up to ridicule. There 
 may possibly be men like Mr. Ohadband in Bleak House, or 
 the Deputy Shepherd in P/r/,-//'/V7,- ; but I think you will all 
 agree with me that they are false pictures of the class they are 
 intended to represent, viz., the non-conformist minister of a 
 -ood deal of religious profession. Nor need a novel entirely 
 ignore such a serious subject. Ouidas novels are pictures of 
 a heathen country, not a Christian one. 
 
 I think party ^iiestions are offensive in a novel, whether 
 with respect to religion or politics. One mavsav this generally 
 with regard to novels written for a purpose. It is offensive 
 it one disagiees with the views of the writer, and perhaps still 
 more otieiiMve if one agrees with him. In Ten Thousand 
 \ '"'/-, it is ridiculous where one finds the Tories, Aubrey, 
 
 G 
 
82 THE REV. C. F. COUTTS' 
 
 De la Zouche, c., and the Whigs, Tittlebat Titmouse, Mudflint, 
 Gammon, &c. But perhaps the book most offensive, in this 
 way, that I have read is Mrs. Lynn-Linton's Under which 
 Lord I where she deals with sacred questions which ought 
 never to be raised except in the gravest and most serious 
 manner certainly never in a novel and deals with them 
 falsely. 
 
 Another point is that a novel, as a powerful weapon for 
 good or for evil, ought always to be in good tone. Some may 
 say a novel is only meant to amuse, and therefore no one would 
 
 o-ot his ideas from it. Bat it cannot be denied that novels 
 
 <-> 
 
 exert a powerful influence. I cannot too strongly object to 
 that class of novels which makes the interest hang upon the 
 question of a breach of the Seventh Commandment, or on 
 kindred subjects. It is false to life ; for the average life of an 
 Englishman is not concerned with the Divorce Court. To 
 most of us it would make no practical difference if no such 
 court existed. In many of the worst class of novels, though it 
 may be represented as very wrong, our interest is excited 
 in those who are concerned. It is not enough that the 
 supposed moral is correct, that virtue is rewarded and vice 
 punished. It is the dwelling upon such a foul subject which 
 is so baneful, especially to young people. I have spoken 
 plainly, but I feel deeply on this question. Then again, such 
 novels as deal largely with crime are in bad tone. Books like 
 Jack Sheppard and Rookwood ought never to have been 
 written. Or we might instance Paul Clifford, by Bulwer a 
 writer of a much higher class. Generally we may say those no vels 
 are bad which deal too much with the baser and evil part 
 of our nature. The first use of a novel is to amuse, perhaps ; 
 but our feelings on leaving off a good novel ought to be nobler 
 aspirations, in accordance with the picture of the noble life we 
 find there ; more enlarged sympathies with our fellow men as 
 we have been introduced to different classes of them, and have 
 seen how their struggles correspond to our own ; and a 
 
PAPER OX NOVELS. 83 
 
 feeling of pleasure at the agreeable picture. I know of no 
 writer who excels Dickens in this respect. He is in novels 
 what Faed or Nicol is in paintings. He can draw such 
 pleasing pictures of the lower grades of life. 
 
 In close connection with the previous point is that a 
 novel ought to be a pleasing picture. I think a painting is 
 wrong in principle where it is not a pretty scene. Millais 
 is a good example, for all his pictures which I remember are 
 in themselves pretty. But what beauty is there in Hogarth's 
 pictures ? Or, to come to later times, in such pictures as 
 "The Derby Day" or "The Gaming Saloon"? There is no 
 pi CM si iig association in the idea presented even. Some of you 
 may also remember a ghastly picture exhibited in London 
 a few years ago, of a man beheaded the head rolling down 
 the steps, and the 'body lying beside a large pool of gore. 
 \Vluit pleasure or advantage could be got from such a picture, 
 either in painting it or in seeing it, I cannot imagine, 
 however faithfully it might be drawn. -So it is also with 
 novels which give us a revolting picture of life. I know 
 nothing in novel writing more revolting in its way than the 
 death of Xancy in Oliver 7>?V. It is the most horrible part 
 of a revolting book. There is much truth in the remark 
 made to me by a literary man some years ago, that "Oliver 
 Tfisf is as it' a good artist undertook to paint a dung-heap." 
 But this characteristic ought not to be merely negative. It 
 might to l.e directly pleasing. It always seemed to me that 
 ( Jeorge Kliot somewhat lost sight of this, as her later books 
 seemed to get less and less pleading. They were true to life, 
 -oiiietinii'.s painfullv true ; but it was the less pleasing side of 
 life. And the later ones were perhaps more elaborately 
 worked out. But, to mv mind. J)n'ifl Deronda. is far inferior 
 lo Adam Hl< \\^ a pleasing picture. A novel, like a picture, 
 ought to have a fair amount of light and shade. And some 
 may have more of an even light spread over the whole picture, 
 while others may have Rembrandt-like effects of violent light 
 
84 THE REV. T. F. COUTTS' 
 
 and shade. This must be at the artist's discretion. We may 
 follow our hero and heroine through great troubles ; the book 
 may be mournful and tragical, like Scott's Bv'ule of Lammer- 
 moor. But it may be a pleasing melancholy like that of the 
 book I have just named. There is no need for it to grate upon 
 our feelings. True there is an ugly and a grating side of real 
 life, but we see enough of it ; it is not necessary that 
 we should have it in a picture, except so far as it is introduced 
 to heighten the general effect, like an intentional discord in an 
 elaborate piece of music. The pleasing nature may also be 
 enhanced by the poetical ideas of the writer, for much poetry 
 may be written in prose. The last point, and perhaps the 
 greatest of all, is creative power. Without this, all the ivst 
 will make only a dull book. A novel may be perfect in good 
 taste, may describe beautiful scenery, may be written in 
 elegant English, and have many other excellences, and yet one 
 may never care to take it up a second time. A good painter 
 may make a beautiful picture out of a single tree, or a single 
 figure. But he does not go and sit down and paint the first 
 tree he comes to, or the first person he meets. There must be 
 the creative power, which makes an interesting picture out of 
 the scene which he selects. It is so much easier to criticise, 
 and to criticise fairly, than to create. I could criticise a novel, 
 and show some of its good points or bad points, but I could 
 not write one, any more than I could paint a picture. For a 
 good novel, then, there must be creative power. And as part of 
 the same idea, there ought to be strong individuality. You 
 may remember in the Belt case, the artists allowed that the bust 
 which Belt executed at the court was a good likeness of the man, 
 but said that it was valueless as a work of art, because it had 
 no character about it, no individuality. We ought to be able 
 to recognise a work, even if published anonymously, by the 
 individuality of a good writer. And yet there ought to be a 
 freshness about it, giving a character to it, different to any of 
 the other works of the same author. It should be the same 
 
PAPER ON NOVELS. 85 
 
 in kind, yet essentially different. I do not consider all these 
 points as of equal importance, and a novel may violate some of 
 my ideas of perfection and yet it may be an excellent novel. I 
 only say that where it does, I consider this an imperfection, 
 small or great. A novel may have many great faults, and 
 these blemishes may be hidden by its excellences. 
 
 1 wish to employ the few minutes which remain in 
 trying to sketch some of the points which strike one most, 
 in a few of the leading novelists. I have only time for a 
 few, and I must not be too much blamed if I omit many of 
 the favourites of some present. I need not go further back 
 than the time of Richardson and Smollett, for I don't suppose 
 anyone now cares to read the vile trash of their predecessors. 
 If any person should think this too harsh a term, I would quote 
 an anecdote related by Sir Walter Scott, which places the low 
 taste of Queen Anne's reign in a striking light. 
 
 A grand-taint of my own, Mrs. Kieth, of Ravelston, who was a person 
 of some condition, being a daughter of Sir John Swinton, of Swinton, lived 
 \\irli unabated vigour of intellect to a very advanced age. She was very 
 fond of reading, and enjoyed it to the last of her long life. She one day 
 asked me, when we happened to be alone together, whether I had ever 
 seen .Mrs. Helm's novels >. I confessed the charge. Whether I could get 
 lier a sight of them ( I said witli some hesitation I believed 1 could, but 
 1 did not think she would like either the manners or the language, which 
 approached too near that of Charles II. 's time, to be quite proper reading. 
 " Nevertheless," said the good old lady, " I remember their being so much 
 admired, and being so much interested in them myself, that I wish to look 
 at them again." To hear was to obey. So I sent Mrs. Aplira Behn, 
 ruriously sealed up, with " private and confidential " on the packet, to my 
 gay old grand-aunt. The next time I saw her afterwards, shy gave me 
 back Aplira. properly wrapped up, with these words : "Take back your 
 bonny Mi's. Behn, and if you will take my advice, put her in the fire, for 
 I found it impossible to get through the very tirst novel. But is it not," 
 she said, " a very odd thing, that I, an <>ld woman of eighty and upwards, 
 sitting alone, feel myself ashamed to read a book, which sixty years ago, 
 I have heard read aloud for the amusement of large circles, consisting of 
 The first and most creditable society in London." 
 
 I am thankful that we, with many faults still, would not 
 
86 THE REV. C. F. COUTTS' 
 
 tolerate now such detestable books as those mentioned. 
 In Smollett we find pictures of life, like Hogarth's pictures, 
 true, but coarsely drawn. His sea sketches passed muster till 
 the more excellent ones of Marryat eclipsed them. Richardson 
 will always be remembered by his creation of Sir Charles 
 Grandison, a thorough gentleman of the old school, with its 
 old-fashioned and somewhat cumbrous courtesy. Fielding 
 resembles Thackeray more than any other writer. He is a coarse 
 edition of that master-mind, but, perhaps, not coarser than his 
 times warranted. He painted real life: he found it coarse, and 
 he accordingly painted it coarse. The characters of Squire 
 Western and Parson Tulliver do not seem to be exaggerations, 
 but fair specimens of the time ; but they are offensive in their 
 coarseness. With all their faults, I suppose Tom Jones and 
 Joseph Andrews will be read while the English language 
 lasts, though I cannot say they are healthy reading for the 
 young. They might, however, be read with instruction and 
 advantage by those who lament the " good old times." 
 
 After the coarse period comes what we may call the stilted 
 period. The two Miss Porters are fair examples of it. But 
 far greater is Miss Austen. Sense and Sensibility, Pride 
 a it<l Prejudice^ &c., show great power; though the language in 
 which the men and women talk to each other is stilted and 
 unnatural. In spite of this failing, a friend of mine, one whose 
 taste I respect, prefers Miss Austen's novels to any others. 
 Having read all the Waverley novels many times, I can quite 
 understand the sensation which they created. Instead of the 
 society talk of his predecessors, and fine sentiments, which 
 always remind me of Joseph Surface, and make me suspect a 
 hypocrite in disguise, Sir Walter Scott introduces us to a very 
 different style of thing. We are at home with the Young 
 Pretender, Claverhouse is made no stranger to us, James I., 
 Charles II., and both Buckinghams are exhibited behind 
 the scenes, Crusaders become our intimate friends; and 
 all tins is done in such a natural manner that we see nothing 
 
PAPER OX NOVELS. 87 
 
 strange in our company. We may read a dozen histories of 
 France, and yet fail to get such a vivid and true impression of 
 the characters of Louis XL and Charles the Bold of Burgundy 
 as we do from Scott's Qtient in Dumvard and Anne of Ge'ierstel /?. 
 Then in Scottish domestic life, what is finer than the earlier 
 half of The Heart of MidlotJiian ? I know nothing more 
 noble in literature, more poetical in its simplicity, more truthful, 
 and more beautifully painted than the character of Jeannie 
 I Vans. It is so essentially Scotch in its rigid virtue, which will 
 not stoop to a lie even to save the life of a sister, and also in 
 the self-sacrifice, in the toil which she undertakes on the bare 
 chance of success. Can we wonder at the excitement caused by 
 the anonymous publication of Scott's novels one after another ? 
 It is amusing, with our present knowledge, to read such reviews 
 of the Waverley novels as Nassau Senior's, where he draws 
 several comparisons between Sir Walter Scott and the author of 
 Waverley. Even when his po\vers w r ere failing, and he was 
 writing against time to pay oft" that great debt, not of his own 
 contracting, when he produced such inferior works as St. 
 Jionanx Well, and Count Robert of Paris, we find flashes of 
 the old humour. In his better w r orks, in the multiplicity of 
 great and well -drawn characters, in creative power, in pleasing 
 pictures, in vivid descriptions of scenery, where required for 
 the purpose of his novel, he far exceeds any other novelist. And 
 there is no false confidence in his satisfaction as a dying man, 
 that though he had been so voluminous an author, he had never 
 written a line to injure the faith or cause a blush of shame. 
 
 I would next mention the Bronte family, more especially 
 Charlotte, who far surpassed her sisters. In Jane Eyre, 
 Shirley, and tin- Professor, we recognise great creative powers. 
 ll-i great talent enables her to place her characters in 
 such difficult positions, without becoming unnatural. In 
 Fenimore ('oop>r we have, I believe, an uneducated man. 
 a e"iiniion sailor, who introduces us by his descriptive and 
 creative powers to the backwoods of America and 
 
88 THE REV. C. F. COUTTS' 
 
 the Indian tribes. His imitators are characterised by as 
 much feebleness as he possessed vigour. I cannot say I 
 admire that class of American writer that produced The Wide, 
 Wide World, The Lamplighter, fee., nor that false picture of 
 slave life called Uncle Toms Cabin. Another friend of our 
 youth is the genial Mariyat. What boy has not rejoiced over 
 Peter Simple, Jacob Faithful, Midshipman Easy, and his 
 other sea novels. I have heard that by them he has effected 
 wonderful changes in civilising the navy, and that he has been 
 the means of inducing many a boy to go to sea, who would 
 otherwise have stopped at home. I can enjoy any of his books 
 thoroughly now, which is more than I can say for his daughter's 
 novels. Chucks the boatswain. Hawkins the lying captain, 
 Old Tom and Young Tom, Mesty, are all familiar as if we had 
 known them. But I think he fails signally in his ladies, who 
 convey no impression of reality. Michael Scott is a name 
 which many of you would connect with the wizard rather than 
 the novelist. Yet in Torn Grinyle and the Cruise of the Miclye 
 we have agreeable, and, I am informed, true pictures of West 
 Indian life. When the former came out in Blackwood, the 
 crowd of incident made it still more suitable. Mrs. (laskell 
 paints real life, and paints it well. In Mary Barton and 
 North and South, she shows us artizan life; in Sylvias Locei's 
 we have the life of a small tradesman, and few could invest 
 with poetry, as she has done, a draper in a small seaport like 
 Whitby. But far the pleasantest and greatest of her works is 
 the last, Wives and Daughters. The late Lord Lytton, or 
 Bulwer, as he is still called, surpasses most, except Scott, in 
 the elegance of his works. Of course, no writers are uniformly 
 good in their works, but I know of none in which there is such 
 a disparity between their best and their worst as in those of 
 Bulwer Lytton. One could hardly imagine that the same hand 
 wrote the vile trash, Godolphin, Alice, Ernest Malt ravers, as 
 charmed us with Rienzi, The Last of the Barons, and Harold ; 
 or, better still, his English domestic pieces, The Caxtons, My 
 
PAVER ON NOVELS. 89 
 
 Novel, and some yet later. In What will lie do >'<?/> if! is 
 one of his greatest creations, a most loveable old man, Willie 
 Looseby, who had endured the shame of a felon's cell to save 
 his disreputable son. 
 
 In many novelists, like Bulwer, we find a gradual improve- 
 ment ; but in Lever \ve find the reverse. I know no lighter 
 reading, when one is very tired, than the rollicking Irish fun 
 of his earlier books, Harry Lorrequer, Charles 0' Mallei/. In tin- 
 later books he seems to have lost the magic touch of freshness, 
 and we have such dreary tales as A Days Journey, A Life's 
 Romance. I have already expressed my opinion of Whyte 
 Melville. I admit his power, though it has no influence over me. 
 Who can read Charles Kingslry without being the better 
 for it ? Who can finish Westward Ho or Tu'o Years Ago 
 without feeling more kindly disposed to all around him ? A 
 novelist takes us out of our own selfishness, and interests 
 us in the lives of others, fictitious though they be. And 
 Kingsley serins to shew us the brighter side of human character. 
 11< M'ems to realise fully the honour of humanity, but chiefly 
 when that humanity recognises a still higher Being. He never 
 forgets his calling, that of leading mm to worship God. His 
 brother, Henry Kingsley, is unworthy to be named in the same 
 light. He always writes like a gentleman, and in good tone, 
 but 1 am airaid that is all 1 can say of good. He is forced 
 and unnatural ; his characters are not men and women at all, 
 but wooden giants and giante.-<v <,< offrey Hamlyn, I admit, is 
 readable, as a picture of Australian life, but I cannot allow 
 this of any other of his works. George Eliot is, perhaps, the 
 most highly finished novelist of this generation. Her books 
 give one the idea of faultlessness ; they paint life, they shew 
 the writer to he of -Teat culture, and of attainments in science 
 and philosophy far beyond what we should expect from a 
 woman. Komola also shews her power of assimilating history, 
 and of dealing with such a difficult character as that of the 
 Florentine lit- former. Savonarola, with great fainie>s. 
 
DO THE REV. C. F. COUTTS* 
 
 To judge how true she has been, one requires immediately after 
 Romola to read a life of Savonarola. Her writing is like 
 Temiiel's drawings in Punch : not a line out of place. But to 
 my mind, in her later and more finished novels, say, 
 Middlemarck and Daniel Deronda, there is a lack of that 
 freshness and pleasantness which we found in Adam Bedc. 
 The latter might be written, as it were, while she had still 
 pleasure in her life : the former convey the impression of 
 having had a hard struggle with life, and having been scarred 
 in the battle. 
 
 I do not care to write of such authors as Rhoda Broughtoii 
 and Ouida. Their books sell well ; they are read and enjoyed 
 by many ; but to my mind they are unpleasant and unhealthy 
 reading. I cannot deny the abilities of the writers. Miss 
 Braddon I omit for reasons I have already stated. Mrs. 
 Oliphant gives us many pleasant pictures. Salem Chapel and 
 others I have enjoyed thoroughly, and they shew knowledge 
 of life. Anthony Trollope comes of a novel-writing family. 
 Without plot, without much excitement, his books <m*e us 
 
 J- O 
 
 pleasant glimpses of natural life, with many highly-finished and 
 well-drawn characters. He paints the parson of the period, 
 and paints him on the whole fairly ; at least so far as the 
 outward part of his life can be seen. As a rule his parsons 
 are. the* more worldly sort, like Bishop Proudie, Archdeacon 
 Grantley, and Mark J^obarts. Still he gives us sometimes such 
 a saintly old man as Mr. Harding, for which alone, had lie 
 given us nothing else, we must thank him. The continuing of 
 the same characters through so many books must necessarily 
 cause great difference of opinion. Thackeray has clone it, but 
 Scott never, except in historical characters. 
 
 How far would Lord Beaconsfield have been known as a 
 writer if he had not been known also as a statesman ? I do not 
 like his Eastern exaggerations, but his later writings, Lothair 
 and Endymion, would, I am sure, place him high among 
 novelists. He paints, it is true, the men he has seen. And so 
 
PAPER ON NOVELS. 91 
 
 does nwny a great artist. But, like them, he stamps the picture 
 with an individuality of his own. Black gives us many pleasant 
 descriptions of scenery, but not that alone. He can paint 
 beautifully some phases of character. The man who gave us 
 Sheila in the Princess of Tkule has by that earned our gratitude. 
 When he deserts Scotland he is less fortunate. The Three 
 Feathers and others are much inferior. Blackrnore gives one 
 the idea of greater depth and higher intellectual powers. I had 
 heard little of him till I read Lorna Doone, which gave me all 
 the pleasure of a surprise. If we wish to be critical, we can 
 find many faults in Cradock Nowett, Alice Loraine, Clara 
 Vanghan, &c., but they are more than redeemed by the pleasure 
 of the whole. Like " one-speech Hamilton," Anstey and 
 Shorthouse are known by their exceptional works, Vice Versa 
 and John Inglesant, respectively, both very clever in their 
 way, but perhaps hardly novels. 
 
 I have still two novelists, whom I have left to the 
 last, by way of bonne bouche, as they have found their 
 way, more than any others, to the hearts of this generation 
 Dickens and Thackeray. I should like very much to 
 give passages from their works, but I feel I have trespassed 
 enough 011 your time already. Great friends as they 
 were, there are essential differences between them. While 
 Tliaekrray addresses himself to the more highly-educated 
 classes. Dickens is appreciated by all. Thackeray deals with 
 the higher classes (seeing them often not on their best side), 
 and seldom goes below the middle stratum of society ; Dickens 
 delights to paint the poor man, and is then at his best. 
 Thackeray paints reality ; his characters are as real as any in 
 fiction. Dickens always reminds me of Sam Slick's way of 
 painting a likeness namely, giving just that little exaggeration 
 to any salient point of the features which makes one exclaim 
 " His very nose," " The exact chin," or " Just his remarkable 
 s<|iiint," making the portrait more like than life. Pendenni>. 
 Warrington, Guor-e < )sborne, we have known ; but Sam 
 
92 THE REV. C. F. COUTTS' 
 
 Weller is a slight exaggeration of a servant ; his father that of 
 an old coachman ; Pecksniff of a hypocrite ; Dombey of a 
 pompous egotist. 
 
 But to take them separately : Thackeray's finest novel is 
 Vanity Fair, perhaps the greatest in the English language. 
 Don't gainsay this until you have read it half-a-dozen times, 
 as it improves greatly on acquaintance But the finest piece of 
 novel-writing that I know is in Philip, in the description of the 
 row. The General, his brother-in-law, and his friend coming 
 to loggerheads and challenges downstairs, \vhile their wives arc 
 quarrelling above, and calling to them over the stairs. It is 
 beautiful. His finest character is in another work, Colonel 
 Newcome. Never think you have seen Thackeray's heart until 
 you have read the Newcomes. By-the-by, what a spite he 
 has against mothers-in-law ! With Dickens I must finish my 
 remarks. He finds his way to our hearts. His best works are, 
 I think, David Copperjield, Dombey and Son, and Nicltola* 
 Nickleby. Martin Chuzzleiv'd I dislike nearly as much as 
 Oliver Twist, in spite of the attractions of Tom Pinch and Mrs. 
 Gamp. Pickwick is an exceptional book. But The Old 
 Curiosity Shop, though not among his best, as a whole, 
 contains perhaps his very finest touches both of pathos and 
 of humour. I know nothing more pathetic than the 
 whole, story of- Little Nell, and, though I do not weep over 
 novels, I am sometimes obliged to put down the book for a few 
 minutes when I read the account of her funeral, and the 
 poor old man, while being led away, asking why everybody 
 has on something black. Nor can we easily surpass the comic 
 picture of the dissolute, kind-hearted Dick Swiveller, sitting 
 down in the kitchen to play cribbage with the small, dirty, 
 ill-treated shrimp of a servant, to whom he gives brevet rank 
 as " The Marchioness," having always been used to high 
 society. 
 
 In conclusion. I tender my thanks and those of 
 thousands of my countrymen to those writers who have 
 
PATER OX NOYKLS. 
 
 afforded to us much real and innocent enjoyment, who have 
 lightened many a weary hour, have brought vividly before us 
 many points of history, and thereby given much instruction, at 
 all events to myself, and have taught us also the true sympathy 
 between man and man, of different grades in society. I think 
 it is Lady Mary Montagu who remarked that she had seen 
 many nations, many different ranks, but she had found people 
 mainly of two classes only, and those very much alike, men 
 and women. Good novelists, by helping us to realise this, 
 tend to make our sympathies larger, and thereby to make us 
 Christians. I thank them heartilv. 
 
The Present Chaotic Condition of 
 Pub lie Opinion" 
 
 By MR. CHARLES AITKEN. 
 
 T is my intention to Tiring under your consideration 
 to-night, so far as time permits, what I believe 
 is a prominent characteristic of the present 
 century, confining the range of my remarks 
 chiefly to certain phases of confused modern thought which are 
 exhibited in our own country. 
 
 My general position is briefly this that never in the past 
 lias there been evinced so great a Babel of conflicting and 
 contradictory ideas upon subjects which ought to have been by 
 this time placed by protracted human experience beyond the 
 ivarh of legitimate argument, never has there been such a 
 universal haziness and confusion of belief in matters regarding 
 which men formerly held settled and definite convictions. And 
 it is my contention that this nebulous and chaotic condition of 
 modern thought is a bad thing for individuals and for nations, 
 1 M -cause strong beliefs (even if erroneous) and the full possession 
 of one's self, in opinion and in action, are the primary mental 
 qualifications of great citizens and great peoples. If this 
 country has been (as I believe it has) steadily declining in its 
 ivlative importance and influence as a factor in European 
 politics in comparison with the position which it occupied, say 
 after the battle of Waterloo, it is mainly due to the fact that we 
 have lost that belief in our capacity for administration which 
 was formerly the source of our ever-increasing power, as well 
 as that assured faith in our ultimate national destiny which 
 caused us not to shirk (as we do now), but eagerly and 
 
MTC. CHAELES AITKEN ON 
 
 hopefully to accept each fresh responsibility, as an increased 
 source of prosperity and honour. For example, our forefathers, 
 after creating chaos in Egypt, by stamping out the only popular 
 native rule, would never have even contemplated the criminal 
 timidity of withdrawing our forces in order to reinaugurate the 
 era of confusion and disturbance ; neither would they have in- 
 voked in India half-civilized, superficially educated, inherently 
 dishonest native help to fill the judge's chair, except in the 
 most subservient and subordinate capacity. It is only among 
 our colonies that the relics of British pluck, sense, and hopeful- 
 ness are discoverable. 
 
 Although this is confessedly an age of specialists, still in this, 
 as in every period of history, it is the general and prevailing 
 tone of public opinion which must be recorded against itself as 
 its distinguishing characteristic, and that which mainly leaves 
 its impress upon future generations. It is therefore a proof of 
 great intellectual blindness to sneer at public opinion, as some 
 do, as beneath the consideration of really profound thinkers, 
 for, consciously or unconsciously, we are all by the lives we 
 live, and by the thoughts we express, moulding the lives and 
 thoughts of the countless millions who succeed us. If, there- 
 fore, the condition of public opinion now be eminently chaotic, 
 the situation is, I contend, a grave one, fraught with deadly 
 peril to our immediate successors. 
 
 The historians of the nineteenth century have a very difficult 
 task in store for themselves and their readers. For example, 
 conflicts of old usually arose and were waged upon broad and 
 clearly defined issues. Now it is a hard task, even for a living- 
 witness, to explain why or how the most discordant elements 
 band together for temporary purposes under the cry to "sink 
 all differences against a common enemy." Fortunately union 
 thus obtained seldom stands the test of time, even if it survives 
 the shock of abandonment of vital principle, too often the prelude 
 of such co-operative movements. That public opinion is in a 
 state of chaos positively atomic is shown upon almost any large 
 
THK cHAo'nc CONDITION or PrilUr OPINION. 9? 
 
 platform, whether the gathering be for religious, political, 
 or social purposes. Individuals arrange themselves, or are 
 arranged by successful wire pullers, themselves a proof of the 
 mental confusion which has begotten their singular calling, 
 upon the planks of a common though temporary platform in a 
 manner totally unexpected and frequently most embarrassing. 
 Our Athenaeum itself is a capital proof of this chaos of modern 
 thought, though it possesses one great merit which ought not 
 to be overlooked ; viz. : we sacrifice no principle by meeting 
 under a common roof or on the same platform. On the contrary } 
 our habitual differences of opinion and feeling on nearly every 
 important subject are known and patent to all, and I doubt 
 verv much if we have ever succeeded in seriously altering our 
 preconceived ideas upon any disputable subject. We sometimes 
 lay the flattering unction to our souls, that it is a desire to hear 
 all sides of great or popular questions which brings us together. 
 But unless we live in the vast solitude longed for by the 
 dyspeptic poet, we find ourselves literally compelled to fraternise 
 with all sorts and conditions of men, who hold opinions which 
 we firmly believe to be most damaging to themselves and to the 
 public in o'eneral. And the longer I live the Greater does this 
 
 I O O O 
 
 disintegration appear to spread, and the more remarkable to 
 myself do my associates at times become. To say that we 
 make any progress towards real unity would be merely the 
 e\])ivs>ion of a beautiful but baseless aspiration. I fear, even 
 when somewhat staggered by the cogency of arguments hostile 
 to our previous beliefs, it is either a case of <: he that is 
 convinced against his will, just firmly holds the same opinion 
 still, or what is more likely and far more pernicious, we 
 promptly relegate that subject upon which our minds were 
 previously comfortably s -ttled, to the large and ever increasing 
 lUr >f unsolved problems which toss uneasily in our brains, 
 like wreckage on a stormy sea. 
 
 \<>w while it is doubtless true that probably nearly all 
 great questions are merely reproductions of old world <-on- 
 
 H 
 
98 MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 troversies, there is now a very great difference in their scope 
 and significance. Until within a comparatively recent period 
 it was reserved for a few great minds and their immediate 
 disciples to distress and perplex their hearts and intellects 
 with the great problems of life and futurity. The great mass 
 of mankind ate, drank, slept, fought, died in short, spent an 
 almost purely physical existence, disturbed solely by material 
 wants and cravings. No one dreamed of asking the question, 
 except in moments of unwonted depression or extreme suffering 
 Is life worth living ? And yet that is now the anxious 
 plaint of millions whose purely physical wants are satiated to 
 an extent far beyond the aspirations of our progenitors, but to 
 whom has come the deadly burden of nagging doubt and 
 unsatisfied longings as vague as they are intense. What 
 formerly afforded occasional subject matter for the calm stoical 
 analysis of the philosopher has now entered into the life and 
 marrow of millions, even at an age when such profitless worry 
 ought to be absolutely non-existent. It was noticeable that 
 when the paper on " Euthanasia " was read at one of our 
 meetings the protests against the sentiments therein expressed 
 came not from the younger section of the audience, in whom 
 the glow and hope of life might have been expected to show 
 itself in marked exclamations of dissent, but from our older 
 members, who seemed to appreciate existence with a far keener 
 relish than either the lecturer or his youthful sympathisers. 
 Possibly our more matured friends shrank from the onus of 
 testing the soundness of the lecturer's principles owing to the 
 greater imminence of their danger. Still I would venture to 
 assert that they exhibit a healthy enjoyment of e very-day life 
 and a freedom from morbid, useless, mental questionings which 
 is a cherished and developed feature in the younger generation. 
 It is my contention that much of this lamentable difference in 
 habit of mind arises from this that our fathers and mothers, 
 and to a still greater degree their ancestors, enjoyed a serenity 
 of thought, a healthy peace of body and mind which was the 
 
THE ( riAoTK < OXIMTIOX OF PUBLIC OPINION. 90 
 
 natural and excellent fruit of a firm faith in (to them) ascer- 
 tained verities in the past, the present, and the future. For 
 this most enviable condition we have now substituted the mist 
 of doubt, the confusion of contradictory ideas and principles, 
 the murky gloom of a universal pessimism, or the still deeper 
 darkness of despair. 
 
 Doubtless much of this confusion of thought is due to the 
 excessively promiscuous character of the literature read by the 
 general public, whereby a superficial knowledge of every 
 species of belief or unbelief is easily obtained. Of course 
 many, if not most of the ideas thus imbibed, run through the 
 mind like gravel through a sieve, leaving nothing but useless 
 dregs behind ; or they contribute fresh uneasiness and unsettle- 
 i n 'lit to brains already sufficiently diseased. Several of the 
 society journals publish the stock arguments in use on both 
 sides of anv popular question. This suits two classes, who 
 seem to be numerous enough to require a special literature of 
 their own firstly, those who have no brains ; and secondly, 
 those who. as circumstances dictate, are ready to take either 
 side, and who by dint of constant practice are able to discuss 
 with !_dib flippancy any subject in heaven, earth, or hell, with 
 .'ii erudition and eloquence which is truly amazing. 
 
 Let me now briefly bring under your consideration one or 
 two evidences of the chaotic condition of religious thought at 
 the present time. Now here, if anywhere, we ought to find 
 SOUL- suf'iil ground, because the Church claims to be the 
 perpetual repository of eternal verities. And yet I venture to 
 a^Ni-rt that nowhere in the whole range of human thought is 
 tin-re ^reat'T din and smoke of confused and ceaseless conflict, 
 imwheiv is it more difficult for the genuine seeker after truth to 
 
 distinguish between the true and tin- false. The ecclesiastical 
 
 a 
 
 mind has always been prum- to casuistry, and it is now power- 
 fully aided by laymen who have, in many cases, improved upon 
 their teachers. In the eager zeal of the combatants, creeds and 
 dogmas upon which the logical basis of the whole fabric rests 
 
100 MU. f 'HAULER A1TKEN ON 
 
 are cast to the moles and to the bats. Not very long ago three 
 clerical disputants belonging to the same branch of the 
 Christian Church had to suspend their arguments, for one of 
 them had made the startling discovery that practically they 
 each believed in a different God, a recognition of a fact which 
 was promptly admitted by the other two with some confusion 
 of face. And, if further evidence be required, let the candid 
 critic visit in succession a series of typical churches, all 
 easily found in any ordinary English town within the pale of 
 the Established Church, and I venture to assert that he will 
 find it impossible to reconcile on any reasonable basis the flat 
 contradictions in ceremony and in teaching which he encounters 
 with the cardinal idea of that Church, which is that she is the 
 divinely appointed custodian of eternal and unchangeable truth. 
 There is no pretence of presenting the same truths under 
 different aspects ; it is a case of direct and intentional contra- 
 diction as to the nature and methods of revealed religion, and 
 in the immediate future we are promised the existing combined 
 contradictions and mixtures, and a great deal more besides at 
 different hours in the same church, as per the evidence of 
 the Rev. Mr. Sarson, Rector of Orlestone, before the last 
 Ecclesiastical Commission. 
 
 Some of the Commissioners sought to bring Mr. Sarson to a ml net in 
 ad alsurdum ; but he had the courage of his opinions, and was prepared 
 to carry them to their logical issue. Chancellor Espin asked him whether 
 he would admit "the Romish Mass." He was quite ready. Lord 
 Blachford reminded him that among the Spaniards it is the practice to 
 have dances before the altar. Still he did not shrink, though he thought 
 it unnecessary to put such an extreme case. The Bishop of Winchester, 
 alluding to the Anglo-Israel craze, asked what should be done if some 
 people wanted the Jewish Passover. Mr. Sarson "did not see why we 
 should not allow it, if the people wanted it." Echo. 
 
 The distinguished Anglo-Israelite member of our Athenaeum 
 who (mirabile dictu !) reared a family of fifteen upon nothing, 
 will rejoice at the prospect of obtaining a fresh and conclusive 
 proof of our national origin. Seriously speaking, am I not 
 
THE CHAOTIC CONDITION OF PUBLIC OPINION. 101 
 
 warranted in pointing to the present condition of the Church 
 of England as a proof of the chaotic condition of modern 
 thought. ( If there did not exist an almost universal confusion 
 of idea and belief, would such a hopelessly illogical Babel be 
 allowed even a tolerated existence? It dare not attempt its 
 own reform, for in the very act it would certainly crumble 
 into innumerable fragments. And does modern Dissent evince 
 any greater cohesion or unity of belief ? Not a bit of it. Its 
 continued successful existeiifce^ depends mainly on two circum- 
 stances equally objectdbti^Wc in- prine ipk; -and, action. First 
 there is the misenible j 'unity -Begotteh'- of 'a ''common hatred, 
 hatred for the Church of England on account of her superior 
 status and emoluments, a truly admirable spirit on the part of 
 Christians who have been taught from infancy not to envy the 
 good of their neighbour. Second, perpetual disintegration, 
 whereby active and irresponsible spirits obtain the opportunity 
 of individual work and excitement and display, untrammelled 
 by tradition or by any effective control. Again I appeal to the 
 candid critic to examine a fair selection of dissenting creeds, 
 sermons, and journals, and assert, if lie can, that the confusion 
 and contradiction of dissenting theologians is less than what is 
 to be found within the comprehensive fold of the establishment. 
 Mr. John Morley, the eminent Radical, has recently bemoaned 
 the heterogeneous character of the Liberal party in language 
 which can be applied with equal force and beauty to the 
 condition of modern Dissent. He described that great political 
 combination as " resembling fissiparoua animalculae having no 
 natural affection, but who multiply like bacteria by splitting." 
 " I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me these words" ; verily Saul 
 is among the prophets ! But it is an examination of the 
 Gladstone cult, which permeates dissenting ranks, which most 
 eonvincingly demonstrate* their profoundly chaotic mental 
 condition. 7sO\v one of tin- chief dements in the Protestant 
 Dissenter's creed i^ antagonism to san-rdotalism, though their 
 proiieness to setting up small and even great Popes in their 
 
102 MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 own midst has become a bye-word. But what may I ask is 
 Mr. Gladstone? Refer to the columns of the Guardian, the 
 Church Times, the Church Review, or even the Roman Catholic 
 Tablet on the one hand, or to the Record, the Rock, or the 
 Sheffield Daily Telegraph on the other, and you will find a 
 universal recognition of the fact that Mr. Gladstone is the high 
 priest and champion of sacerdotalism, and that he is the first 
 English Premier since the Reformation who has tried and failed 
 to govern Ireland bj. direct communication with the Vatican. 
 Even the Echoes vpmsed.-tr righteous wrath by his ecclesi- 
 astical appointments, and- effectually trounces the Spectator, 
 which recently attempted a lame defence of its idol. In several 
 cases Mr. Gladstone has deliberately selected for high preferment 
 men who have defied both the law of the land and their 
 ecclesiastical superiors, and among that category can be fairly 
 placed the present Archbishop of Canterbury, the champion of 
 the "Martyred" Laud. Even at Hawarden Church, where 
 Mr. Gladstone's self-appointed son officiates, the " Mass in 
 Masquerade " is habitually performed with the illegal addition 
 of altar lights. Again, had the Church of Ireland developed 
 Ritualistic ideas like her English sister, the crusade against 
 her position and endowments would, on the part of Dissenters, 
 have been perhaps comprehensible. But it was her rigid 
 adherence to Protestant truth which roused Mr. Gladstone (I 
 use'his own language) to destroy "the Upas tree of Protestant 
 ascendency in Ireland." I am well aware that the customary 
 subterfuge of Liberals is to assert that an alien Church, sup- 
 ported by a small minority, was an outrage on public decency 
 and an Irish wrong. But if this be so, what, may I ask, is 
 English rule ? Was it not incontestably proved at the last 
 general election that the vast majority of the inhabitants of 
 Ireland are utterly and hopelessly opposed to the maintenance 
 of the union ? Is it not universally admitted that they are so 
 now? I call therefore upon every dissenting supporter of Mr. 
 Gladstone, nay upon every Liberal, in the name of common 
 
THE CHAOTIC CONDITION OF PUBLIC OPINION. 103 
 
 consistency to act up to their professed creed, and if the State 
 Church of a minority merits annihilation, Dublin Castle must 
 follow suit, and join with its bag and baggage the ejected and 
 unspeakable Turk. 
 
 A final thought in connection with this section of our 
 subject is this : Even the Church of Rome with her proud but 
 empty boast, " Semper end em" is feeling the consequences of 
 the general upheaval, and is trying hard to adapt herself to 
 modern requirements, a task of no inconsiderable difficulty, and 
 which will compel her either completely to obliterate her 
 history, or read it upside down, as many modern authors 
 do. The same evidences of unsettlement competent authorities 
 tell us are visible in India, China, and various other parts of 
 the world, where the old faiths are becoming extinct, and 
 general infidelity is the questionable substitute, perhaps grafted 
 on the vices peculiar to European civilization, the nett result 
 being even more ghastly than original barbarism or heathenism. 
 
 Closely allied to this chaos of religious or irreligious 
 opinion, and in some cases almost inextricably merged with it, 
 is the chaos of political thought. 1 am well aware that it is 
 considered a trite commonplace to say that religion and politics 
 should never be mixed up, but I believe this to be an absolute 
 impossibility. To begin with, so long as the Church of Rome 
 claims temporal as well as spiritual jurisdiction, it is impossible 
 to dissever religion from politics. In Italy, in France, in 
 (I'-nnany, in Belgium, in Switzerland, in Russia, in England, as 
 witness the Bradlaugh contests, the religious or anti-religious 
 element is precisely that which gives the keenest zest to 
 political warfare, and it is the constant accusation hurled at 
 the Church, I use the word in its widest sense, that she has 
 forgotten the inculcations of her Founder with regard to 
 peacemaking, while the invariable retort is that she is being 
 persecuted, and has to tight with all legitimate carnal weapons 
 fur her very existence. And at huiin- every day seems to bring 
 us nearer to the point when the disestablishment and 
 
MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 disendowment of the Churches of England, Wales, and Scotland 
 will become one of the most prominent political questions. 
 Already the political vultures who battened upon the carcase 
 of the Sister Church in Ireland, and on her chief supporters, 
 the landlords, sniff the scent of plunder in the air. The nation, 
 demoralised by a course of legalised robberies, seems heedless 
 of the fact, already only too painfully patent, that when once 
 a country embarks upon a predatory career every successive 
 sop to the Cerberus of Radicalism must be rendered more savory, 
 and open up wider vistas of trouble and confusion. He must 
 indeed be blind who fails now to see that the destruction of 
 the State influence of the Irish Church has opened the Hood- 
 gates of revolutionary chaos, and next general election will 
 confront us with a dominant and united phalanx of hostile 
 Irishmen in Parliament who will be able not merely to govern 
 Ireland as they please, but by making the Irish vote of 
 paramount importance, England and Scotland as well. Such 
 will be the result of" messages of peace " begotten in a typically 
 chaotic brain and carried into execution by a typically chaotic 
 party, whose very existence is based upon ceaselessly utilising 
 the demon of discontent for the promised solution of utterly 
 unsolvable problems. Jack Cade and Chaos indeed are the 
 presiding deities of modern politicians, Bismarck excepted. 
 When he goes Europe w r ill be delivered up to the crude 
 absurdities of men whose entire theory of life is flatly 
 contradicted by all human experience, and who, when hard 
 facts knock their crusades and schemes into fragments, smile 
 sweetly and murmur, " It is no fault of our theories ; it 
 is merely so much the worse for the facts." Poor comfort 
 for those whose lives are made miserable by their ceaseless 
 blunders. 
 
 Then again we are wonderfully strong in moral tone, and 
 moral influence, and so forth, as compared with previous 
 epochs. Listen to a nineteenth century moralist, who was 
 lauded at one of your meetings Emerson. 
 
THE CHAOTIC CONDITION OF PUBLIC OPINION. 105 
 
 Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak 
 what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every- 
 thing you .said to-day. 
 
 What a capital motto for the modern opportunist. The 
 highest ideal then is complete and ceaseless inconsistency ; and 
 remember Emerson is an apostle whose tenets are regarded 
 with the profoundest reverence, as they have taken care to 
 tell us, by leading American, English, and foreign politicians. 
 I am bound to say they practice most faithfully what he 
 preaches, but I beg most emphatically to challenge their new 
 code of public morality. Indeed, these oracles of nineteenth 
 century morals flatly contradict each other. One would think 
 that these transcendentalists would agree about the application 
 of the sixth commandment, at all events. Quite the reverse. 
 Mr. Bright actually quarrelled with his friend, Mr. Gladstone, 
 on this very account. Mr. Bright said it was murder to kill a 
 single Egyptian, aggravated and accumulated murder to kill 
 hundreds or thousands. Mr. Gladstone, on the contrary, 
 slays thousands with an easy conscience in the interests of 
 England and the world in general. And still these two men 
 can belaud each other as the quintessence of goodness and 
 truth, though, if words have any meaning whatever, Mr. Bright 
 must believe that Mr. Gladstone has a series of complicated 
 murders lying on his soul. If this be not chaotic opinion, 
 what is ? It must not be supposed that Mr. Bright was an 
 individual eccentric on this subject, for he was supported in his 
 views by Sir Wilfred Lawson, Mr. Labouchere, Mr. P. Taylor, 
 and some thirty -live other genuine Liberals, who refused, on 
 this occasion most properly, to perjure themselves by fore- 
 swearing what they had repeatedly asserted in the cold 
 shade of opposition. These gentlemen might be described as 
 interesting survivals of that somewhat remote period when a 
 decent regard for at least outward consistency was one of the 
 mnst cherished and laudable features of English public life. 
 Now, to say that Mack is white and white black, or alternately 
 
100 MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 black and white, as suits the varying exigencies of the case at 
 intervals of say five minutes, is an essential qualification for 
 the really practical statesman. 
 
 Another interesting feature of modern political life is the 
 open question style of government. That peculiar modern 
 invention consists in the doctrine that upon any question 
 which is likely to prove dangerous to an existing administra- 
 tion the individual members and supporters of a ministry are 
 at perfect liberty to speak and vote directly at variance with 
 each other. This happened so frequently during the last- 
 session of Parliament that I scarcely ever could discover what 
 side the Government really took upon any question, as usually 
 the heads of departments flatly contradicted the position taken 
 by their subordinates in the course of the same debate. 
 Carried to its logical development (and I am sanguine enough 
 to believe that I shall live to see this ideal realised), it is 
 difficult to see why any line of demarcation should be drawn 
 between the contending hosts, and in the present confused state 
 of public opinion, I should imagine that a Cabinet composed of 
 Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Healy, the Marquis of Salisbury and 
 Mr. Bradlaugh, Mr. Parnell and Mr. Beresford Hope, Sir 
 Stafford Northcote and Mr. Biggar, Mr. Labouchere and Mr. 
 Newdegate, Sir Wilfred Lawson and Lord Randolph Churchill, 
 would enjoy the entire confidence of the British public. Lord 
 Derby would make a capital Prime Minister, and his occupation 
 would be to write despatches throwing cold water on every 
 proposition that was submitted by his colleagues, without 
 giving any clue whatever as to what his own opinions might 
 be, that is if he ever had any. And that mental condition is 
 the keynote of modern opinion ; it is nothing if not either 
 coldly critical or destructive, forgetful or ignorant of the fact 
 that initiation and constructive ability is the proof and token 
 of both genius and usefulness. Any fool can smash a statue 
 into fragments, but not one man in a million can carve the cold 
 marble into a form instinct with life, and grace, and beauty. 
 
THE CHAOTIC CONDITION OF PUBLIC OPINION. 107 
 
 Any blatant and plausible politician can destroy with heated 
 and flippant words any existing institution capable of exciting- 
 ignorant envy among the masses, but there are only one or two 
 statesmen in a century, who, mindful that nature abhors a 
 vacuum, have the genius to provide a real remedy for existing 
 evil, or perchancei a substitute for what has been smashed and 
 pulverised with wanton haste and fury by some senseless 
 demagogue. Again, amid the general spirit of destructive 
 lawlessness, it surely seems as if we were approaching the 
 mental condition of the typical Irishman, who landing in a new 
 world was canvassed for his vote. His only question, at once 
 " child-like and bland," was, " Is there a government in this 
 country " ? and on being informed that there was, he promptly 
 placed himself in the destructive position which is an integral 
 part of his lii-ing, and said " Well then, I'm agin it" ! Here we 
 have the true spirit of habitual lawlessness and mental 
 confusion which lias not merely permeated all ranks of society 
 (more specially our clerical brethren, as I have previously 
 indicated), but which has become the cause of a fast approaching 
 chaos, in which laws shall be made like piecrust only to be 
 broken, the chief offenders being, in all probability, those who 
 helped to frame them. 
 
 Not being what, in modern jargon, is termed a scientist, I 
 am afraid to point out to you in the presence of numerous 
 pn.t'cssors of this exact and subtle knowledge what appears to 
 me the hopeless muddle in which discoveries and speculations 
 of recent dates have often placed the poor outside public. I 
 shall merely give two samples. Our scientific friends have so 
 successfully ridiculed the idea of periods of time mentioned in 
 the first chapter of Genesis as days, that even the mildest 
 Evangelical curate has been wont for some years past to 
 explain that the word "day" is employed by the sacred writer 
 in quite a Pickwickian sense, and that he really meant a lapse 
 of time, varying from thousands to tens <[' thousands of years. 
 l>ut L have recently read on high geological authority that 
 
108 MR. CHARLES AITKEX OX 
 
 there was really no necessity for trying the faith of devout old 
 women in this manner; for a little judicious pressure l>y 
 volcanic or electric action would accomplish in a few minutes 
 what, perhaps, under ordinary circumstances, would take many 
 centuries to evolve. If minutes therefore would have sufficed, 
 why not literal days ? It has also been reserved for this scientific 
 generation to derive a curious satisfaction from the fact that 
 one of our greatest authorities on these matters has traced the 
 origin of mankind to monkeys. A purblind Toryism induces 
 me to cling to the Biblical origin of the creation of man as 
 being more flattering to one's vanity, though I am far from 
 desiring to quarrel with those who prefer the Darwinian 
 theory. Indeed, as I survey certain specimens of nineteenth 
 century civilisation, I often wonder why the scientific world 
 does not assist Mr. Darwin by proving the converse, i.e., 
 demonstrate by careful selection that it is possible for 
 mankind to regain their happy, original apelike condition. I 
 am sure that by a steady refusal to pass building bye-laws, 
 and by an equally steady determination to live in defiance of 
 all elementary principles of sanitation, we can look forward 
 hopefully to the period when Richmond, at all events, will be 
 able to furnish her quota of human beings suspiciously 
 resembling our apelike ancestors. 
 
 But time fails me. Besides there are some who " glory in 
 their shame " who must needs be dealt with. These are they 
 who actually revel in this cliaos of modern thought, and 
 rejoice in what they term the indefinite or the infinite possi- 
 bilities of the future. Now it is doubtless satisfactory to 
 believe in boundless possibilities, however vague, especially to 
 minds whose capacity for present practical thought and action 
 is quite incapable of being gauged. But I venture to assert, 
 that to the really thoughtful mind all this confusion is a source 
 of great perplexity and sorrow in the present, and of reasonable 
 doubt and distrust in the future. Men cannot live a healthy 
 life on negations, on general disbeliefs, on vague aspirations, on 
 
THE CHAOTIC rONDITTON OF PUBLIC OPINION. "100 
 
 hopes of remote impossibilities. Such a mental condition is, I 
 maintain, fraught with the gravest peril, both to existing 
 society and to future generations. The growing strength of 
 secret societies too, whose purposes and actions are alike terrible 
 and incomprehensible, is of itself sufficiently alarming. To 
 incur their displeasure is well nigh certain death, which no 
 precaution seems able to avert ; while the opinions which they 
 propagate act like insidious poisons throughout the body 
 politic, begetting delusive hopes and class hatreds. I do not 
 deny, however, the possibility of extracting some good out of 
 this unfortunate condition of modern thought, and I have no 
 doubt that succeeding speakers will administer some antidotes 
 to what they may be pleased to term this jaundiced and 
 atrabilious paper. But there is one apology or defence which 
 is often made for a general confusion of ideas upon which I 
 should like to say a few words. It is briefly this it 
 promotes toleration of divergent views without any possibility 
 of a revival of those disgraceful persecutions which disfigure 
 the history of the past. The Pall Mull Gazette of the 20th 
 September last had an article upon this very subject, and I may 
 mention that, as a rule, this paper m&y be described as one of 
 the most optimist in existence. And yet the purport of this 
 article was to bring before the public the undoubted fact that 
 in France, in (lei-many, in Switzerland, there was at the 
 pivM-nt time the most open and violent persecution of religious 
 opinion which, at any moment, mi^ht result in bloodshed, and 
 had already caused the harshest imprisonment and ruthless 
 confiscations. It was time to begin a new crusade in favour of 
 toleration; the elements of persecution were already smoking 
 if not indeed in a blaze. Such was the tenour of the article, but 
 the writer did not point out the purely temporary cause of our 
 present freedom from these troubles. It is due, in my opinion, 
 solely to the fact that the numerous varieties of sects religious, 
 social, and political are so extraordinarily varied and compli- 
 cated that, for the time being, they keep each in check. Each 
 
110 MR. CHARLES ATTKEX OX 
 
 fragment sees that universal toleration and permanent confusion 
 of thought is vital to its continued existence. This is no love 
 of toleration as a great and worthy principle ; it is the refuge 
 of selfish instinct ; and it is verily a frail reed upon which to 
 rest. Combinations are not unknown upon eccentric grounds 
 for temporary purposes, and such combinations if sufficiently 
 powerful might easily embark, aye and easily carry out a 
 policy of ruthless persecution. Nay, our statesmen have taught 
 combinations how so to do. Although subsequent action 
 proclaimed the Irish Land League an illegal organisation, it 
 was not until criminal apathy for political purposes had 
 permitted (absolutely unchecked) mutilations of men, women, 
 and children, as well as poor unoffending animals, had ignored 
 the foulest murders, had treated as a joke that species of living 
 death for which the English language had to invent a new 
 word.* All this was permitted in the most tolerant spirit to 
 continue, and " force. is no remedy " was the curious watchword 
 of a party who were trying to educate the public mind to a 
 sufficiently drastic Land Bill through the stupendous force of 
 chronic crime. But how long did this watchword "force is 
 no remedy " remain in use after the assassinations of Lord 
 Frederick Cavendish and Mr. Burke? Foul deeds no doubt, 
 but no fouler than hundreds similar which had evoked nothino- 
 
 o 
 
 save the ill-concealed glee of more than one member of the 
 Cabinet. I say, how long did this apathy last after the blows 
 had fallen where they could be felt in high places ? Not 
 forty-eight hours. It was then suddenly discovered that force 
 was not merely a remedy, but the only remedy ; and force was 
 opposed by force and the most oppressive and tyrannical 
 legislation (especially from a Liberal point of view) ever known 
 in modern times, and which is still law, was passed in panic 
 haste, and Irish crime conjured into existence by false toleration 
 became for the time a mere hideous memory. But the evil 
 leaven still remains. An illegal combination, working by 
 insidious means, and creating by its tolerated existence what 
 
 * Boycott. 
 
THE f'HAOTTC' rONDTTTOX OF PUHUr OPINION. Ill 
 
 were appropriately termed " Murder Clubs," has proved to 
 disloyal Irishmen their power over a country fitfully ruled by 
 an alternate diet of sugar plums and birch rods, and the only 
 result of "messages of peace" is that, with a very minute 
 exception, Irishmen all over the world are united as they never 
 were before in a common hatred of English rule, and are 
 placed in a better position for gratifying their malice. But 
 I cannot dwell on this theme longer, nor can I, as I have 
 said, dilate upon many topics which would display the extra- 
 ordinarily chaotic condition into which public opinion has now 
 drifted, but I cannot conclude without a very few words upon 
 our latter day poets as samples of confused and erratic literary 
 thought, both upon the part of themselves and their readers. 
 
 There are very large portions of the writings of Emerson, 
 Browning, Swinburne, and even Tennyson, which can be 
 treated experimentally in a very interesting fashion. Collect 
 a number of their admirers, and without any collusion give 
 ill 'in a few easily-selected passages, and get them if possible to 
 write down in simple and intelligible language what the poet 
 means. The result is invariably this About one-half of these 
 adorers are quite unable to give any reasonable explanation 
 whatever; the remainder give either absolutely contradictory 
 results, or repeat the claptrap which some ingenious critic has 
 invented in order to give the uninitiated a semblance of a 
 meaning to language which is either jingling ravings or meta- 
 physical obscurities. The latest cult (as the poetic Shibboleth 
 hath it) is for a certain American gentleman, who has excited 
 the most ecstatic admiration from people who are reputed 
 chiefs in literature and art. This sublime being is called Mr. 
 Walt Whitman. He disdains either rhyme or reason. Here 
 is a beautiful sample of modern poetry of the highest class : 
 < >. r.-mirnulo close, 
 
 O, you and me at last, and us two only, 
 O, a word to clear ahead one's path endlessly, 
 O, something ecstatic and undemonstrable, 
 O, music wild. 
 
112 MR. CHARLES AITKEN OX 
 
 Again, we have the modern spirit of toleration beautifully 
 typified thus, only I fear old-fashioned respectable people 
 won't like it : 
 
 Good or bad, I never question. I love all ; I do not condemn anything. 
 To me detected persons are not in any respect worse than undetected 
 
 persons, and are not in any respect worse than I am myself. 
 To me any judge or any juror is equally criminal with criminals, and any 
 
 reputable person is also, and the President is also. 
 The last clause is really too fetchingly poetic. One sample 
 more : 
 I celebrate myself, 
 And what I shall assume 
 
 You shall assume ; 
 
 For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you. 
 Oh, to level occupations and the sexes ! (), to bring all to common 
 
 ground ! O, adhesiveness ! 
 O, the pensive aching to be together, you know not why, and I know not 
 
 why. 
 
 The above lofty and elevated as well as highly intelligible 
 thoughts are described by Mr. Rossetti, a poet also of the 
 highest rank (!) as belonging to the very first order of English 
 poetry. A few years ago Mr. Whitman would have run a very 
 fair chance of being relegated to an establishment, the inmates 
 of which would doubtless have enjoyed his productions <>vcn 
 more than Mr. Rossetti. 
 
 To sum up, I maintain that a careful or even a superficial 
 glance at public opinion will convince any candid mind that 
 the general chaos of modern thought is simply abysmal. 
 The voice of sense and truth is scarcely ever raised, and if it 
 gives vent to a feeble piping nobody listens to it. Outwardly, 
 matters may seem tolerably calm, but it is the calm before the 
 storm. The elements are seething and will soon boil. The 
 maddest notions against kings, aristocracies, legislative assem- 
 blies, judges, capitalists, landlords, against anything and 
 everything, are openly discussed not merely by pothouse 
 politicans and professional agitators, by crazy professors and 
 poets, and still more crazy philanthropists and humanitarians 
 
THE CHAOTIC CONDITION OF PUI1LK OPINION. 113 
 
 (falsely so called), but by writers whose mind and 
 education, undi vested of their natural ballast, would have 
 taught them that they are simply playing with fire and 
 dynamite. The lessons of the past are either studiously 
 ignored, or we are told that human nature is different from 
 what it was, and that what formerly was a dangerous and even 
 bloody experiment is now a simple and peaceful project. It is 
 my contention that this is not the case, and that the present 
 confused condition of public opinion is certain to produce 
 the most tremendous and the most lamentable consequences. 
 The whole scope and tendency of recent legislation has 
 ln-t'ii in absolute defiance of the elementary rules of 
 political economy, and calculated to beget the most dangerous 
 class hatreds. State interference and regulation in everything 
 is the order of the day, and the result is individual incapacity, 
 ignorance, and indolence, and the loss of personal responsibility. 
 Human nature remains the same, veneer it as you may with a 
 flimsy civilisation, whose stock-in-trade is little else than crazy 
 aspirations. Progress is one thing, revolution another. The 
 world lias lasted some six. thousand years, and has witnessed 
 a good many more than six thousand revolutions ; but as 
 regards progress, the saying of the wisest man remains as true 
 er, " The thing that hath been is the thing that shall be," 
 and the efforts of the nineteenth century appear to promise 
 nothing save the resumption of that period of primaeval chaos 
 whrn " the cartli was without form and void, and darkness was 
 upon the tan- of the dr. -p." 
 
 nber .'<>tl, J.s'x;. 
 
The History of Epigram. 
 
 By MR. CLIFFORD B. EDGAR, B. Sc. 
 
 HE subject which I propose to bring before you 
 this evening does not, of course, admit of ex- 
 haustive treatment within the limits of half-an- 
 hour, but the time allotted to me will, I hope, 
 be long enough to let us briefly consider the origin of epigram- 
 matic writing, and the part it has since played in the literatures 
 of mediaeval and modern times. The ground we shall traverse 
 is of considerable interest and some little importance, and if 
 you find that I make use of copious illustrations I beg you 
 will remember that this arises out of the very nature of the 
 subject. You all know the story told of an old lady who went 
 to witness a performance of " Macbeth," and who, being asked 
 on her return home how she had liked the tragedy, replied 
 that " it was very fine indeed, but uncommonly full of 
 quotations." Now I cannot for a moment promise you that 
 the first part of this criticism shall be applicable to my remarks 
 to-night, but you must be prepared to find the latter half of 
 the old lady's verdict thoroughly descriptive of my paper. 
 
 Let us first understand what is meant by the term 
 epigram. According to the p<T\ vrtrd notions of our time, the 
 word is held to include the idea of something smart. Humour, 
 however, was by no means an essential in the older epigram, 
 which derived its point from the terseness with which a 
 beautiful thought was expressed, the delicacy with which a 
 fanciful comparison was put forward, or the ingenuity with 
 which an obvious inference was left undrawn. Humour 
 involves the unexpected, and hence it comes that the point of 
 so many of the later epigrams resides in the last line. The 
 word epigram, viewed etymologically, simply means a writing 
 
116 MR. CLIFFORD B. EDGAR ON 
 
 on, an inscription, and was employed by the Greeks to 
 designate inscriptions on temples and other public buildings, 
 and also records, whether in prose or verse, engraved on 
 statues and tombs. Thus the epigram included what, in 
 modern phrase, w r e call the epitaph. The epitaph, indeed, is 
 only one form of epigram (namely, an inscription in honour of 
 the dead), and the Greek epitaph, especially where the heroic 
 or patriotic is concerned, is often strikingly epigrammatic in 
 our conventional sense. Witness the lines of Simonides 
 
 ON THE SLAIN AT THERMOPYLAE. 
 
 If well to die be valour's noblest part, 
 
 In this with us no mortal men can vie : 
 Freedom for Greece we sought with fearless heart, 
 
 And here in imdecayiiig fame we lie. 
 
 The brevity of the epigram, which has always been a 
 distinguishing characteristic, was probably due in the first 
 instance to the fact that a lengthy inscription on a wall, statue, 
 or tomb, and carved in brass or marble, would have been 
 equally inconvenient and inappropriate ; and this very brevity, 
 when the application of the epigram was extended to the record 
 of heroic deeds, striking historical events, and the expression 
 of popular maxims, soon became its great recommendation. 
 " Nothing," says Mr. Dodd, " was required to constitute a Greek 
 epigram but brevity and unity of thought." The stinging point 
 of modern times was entirely absent, and hence the truthful 
 simplicity of the earlier epigrammatists finds little favour 
 with those whose perverted tastes lead them to think that 
 
 The qualities all in a bee that we meet, 
 In an epigram never should fail : 
 
 The body should always be little and sweet, 
 And a sting should be felt in its tail. 
 
 Long after the time of Plato (B.C. 395), indeed up to within a 
 couple of centuries of the Christian era, the writings of the 
 Greek epigrammatists were simply pithy verses, remarkable 
 only for the good sense of their sentiment, and the elegance 
 of their language, and almost always devoid of the elements of 
 
THE HISTORY OF EPIGRAM. 117 
 
 sarcasm. At the same time they abounded in gems of worldly 
 wisdom, many of which have been inherited by modern 
 literatures, and incorporated into their body. It has been said 
 that the wisdom of a country is enshrined in its proverbs. 
 Now a proverb is little more than an anonymous epigram, 
 modified in passing from mouth to mouth, and finally accepted 
 as a piece of joint-stock wisdom. Few languages can claim 
 many original proverbs, for, on the principle that every good 
 thing has been said before, we find in numberless instances the 
 modern "saw" has had its distinct "antitype among the 
 ancients. I could adduce very many examples of this, but one 
 must here suffice 
 
 Discretion is the better part of valour, 
 says the proverb. The saw has it 
 
 He that fights and runs away, 
 
 Will live to fight another day. 
 Butler, in his Hiuilbras, wrote 
 
 Those that fly may fight again, 
 
 Which he can never do that's slain. 
 
 But we find that, ages before this, Aulus Gellius relates that 
 Demosthenes sought safety in flight when Philip overcame the 
 Athenians at Chaeronea, and being accused of cowardice, 
 replied : 
 
 very sentiment that in its English dress serves us for 
 parlour games nowadays. If upon the earlier Greeks we are 
 thus obliged to father many of our smartest sayings, in no less 
 degree have they anticipated the conceits of our great poets. 
 Shakespere says- 
 
 All the world's a stage, 
 
 And all the men and women merely players. 
 
 But Palladas, in the fourth century before Christ, had the 
 same idea, thus translated 
 
 Life's but a stage : then learn to sport, 
 
 And cast aside all care ; 
 Or learn, with trust in Heaven's support, 
 The ills of life to l.t-ar. 
 
118 MR. CLIFFORD B. EDGAR ON 
 
 The Greek epigram, I have said, was in general free from 
 the elements of sarcasm, and it was reserved for the Roman 
 writers to introduce all the weapons of satire. But I may 
 quote a verse from Crates, the cynic philosopher of Thebes, 
 which very nearly approaches the modern ideal. It is called 
 The Cure of Love/' and has been thus rendered : 
 Sharp hunger is the cure of love, 
 Or time the mischief may remove ; 
 If time and fasting give no hope, 
 Go ! end thy miseries with a rope. 
 
 Turning now to the Latin authors of epigram, we find how 
 widely they departed from the Greek models. Of the Latin 
 writers, by far the most prominent is Martial, who wrote in 
 the first century of our era. Living as he did in a degenerate 
 and corrupt age, and dependent on his pen for bread, Martial 
 wrote to please, and of his innumerable epigrams, which have 
 exercised a most remarkable and lasting influence over later 
 writers, few are not disfigured by coarse satire or grovelling 
 flattery. Yet of his verses enough are free from these features 
 to shew with what grace and refinement he could write when 
 so minded. In one of his pieces, Martial, who was fond of the 
 table, complains of rich plate and poor fare, and that in a style 
 worthy of our own Swift or Goldsmith 
 
 With lace bedizened comes the man, 
 And I must dine with Lady Anne. 
 A silver service loads the board, 
 Of eatables a slender hoard ; 
 " Your pride, and not your victuals, spare, 
 
 I came to dine, and not to stare." 
 
 There is a characteristic vigour about all Martial's verse (even 
 where he has wasted his talents on coarse subjects) which 
 distinguishes it above the writings of the multitude who trod 
 in his footsteps. When he has seized upon a loftier theme the 
 result is often singularly happy. Take his fine lines on the 
 benevolent use of wealth, rather freely translated by Hay : 
 Thieves may break locks, and with your cash retire ; 
 Your ancient seat may be consumed by tire ; 
 
THE HISTORY OF EPIGRAM. 119 
 
 Debtors refuse to pay you what they owe, 
 
 Or your ungrateful field the seed you sow ; 
 
 Your faithless maid may plunder you by stealth ; 
 
 Your ships may sink at sea with all your wealth ; 
 
 Who gives to friends so much from fate secures, 
 
 That is the only wealth for ever yours. 
 
 Martial had countless imitators, but none of these needs 
 mention here. They copied his worst faults, and with a 
 strange perversity left unrecognised his most praiseworthy 
 efforts. Contemporary with these writers, much thaf is 
 admirable in epigram was being produced in the East. The 
 wealth of Oriental imagery is proverbial and familiar enough 
 to us in romances and poems. Arabian literature abounds 
 in graceful conceits, epigrammatic in form, and of these a 
 large number are anonymous. Here are some elegant lines 
 addressed 
 
 TO A FRIEND ON HIS BIRTHDAY. 
 
 When born, in tears we saw thee drown'd, 
 Whilst thy assembled friends around 
 With smiles their joy coiifess'd : 
 So live, that at thy parting hour 
 They may the flood of sorrow pour, 
 And thou in smiles be dress'd ! 
 
 As we pass on from these earlier authors to those of the 
 Middle Ages, who, by the way, almost invariably wrote in 
 Latin, we find fewer examples of this graceful antithesis, and 
 the element of humour becomes more prominent. The following 
 verses, by a French writer of the fifteenth century, might be 
 mistaken for an effort of Hook, or Sydney Smith : 
 
 MACHON AND HIS WOODEN LEG. 
 
 When 'gainst Gales the Gallic forces drove, 
 Maehon, a. soldier, raw, but smart by Jove, 
 To the tall rampart's height most boldly dash'd, 
 When through his wooden leg a bullet crash'd : 
 " All right," he cried, " I am not hurt a peg, 
 
 At lion ie I've got in store another leg." 
 
 The examples of old epigram which I have quoted are of 
 cours. mrivly translations of the original verses, but the spirit 
 
120 MR. CLIFFORD B. EDGAR ON 
 
 has been tolerably well preserved. So forcible are some of the 
 thoughts and figures, that no amount of literary mauling could 
 diminish their effectiveness. What could be more telling than 
 the stricture on vanity in George Buchanan's lines to a lady, 
 where he says 
 
 Without a rival you yourself adore ? 
 
 Buchanan, though a Scotchman by birth, was a Latin poet 
 and historian, and wrote with great freedom and elegance. 
 The lampoon, a personal and vulgar form of epigram, to which 
 I may perhaps refer hereafter, was a great weakness of 
 Buchanan's, and led at one time to his banishment from 
 Scotland. The age of Buchanan, that is to say, the Eliza- 
 bethan age, was prolific in all manner of courtly verse, a 
 natural result of the manners of the time. Personal satire, 
 politicial partisanship, literary rivalry, moral maxim, and even 
 religious feeling, in turn inspired the epigrammatist, whose 
 lines, to quote an old writer, " shine like silver threads whereon 
 are strung rich pearls of thought." Broad humour was by this 
 time fully developed as an occasional feature in the epigram. 
 Hey wood, for instance, writing in the sixteenth century, has 
 the following 
 
 ON TAKING ONE'S EASE. 
 
 " Jack " (quoth his father), " how shall I ease take ? 
 If I stand my legs ache, and if I kneel, 
 My knees ache, and if I go, then my feet ache, 
 And if I lie, my back ach'th, and if I sit, I feel 
 My hips ache, and lean I ne'er so weel, 
 My elbows ache." " Sir " (quoth Jack), " pain, to exile, 
 Since all these ease not, best ye hang awhile." 
 
 How different from these are the same writer's lines 
 
 ON PRIDE. 
 
 If thou wilt needs be proud, mark this, friend mine ; 
 Of good deeds be not proud, they are not bhine ; 
 But when thou play'st the knave, in ill deeds grown, 
 Be proud of those ill deeds; they are thine own ; 
 
 Whilst as an instance of depth of feeling and marvellous beauty 
 of figure, let me quote the last Earl of Cumberland's lines 
 
THE HISTORY OF EPIGRAM. 121 
 
 ox ST. STEPHEN'S MAKTYKI>OM. 
 Hail! thou first sacrifice in th' martyr's roll, 
 
 Of cursed wrath and malice envious. 
 See heaven wide opens to receive thy soul, 
 
 And Christ proclaims thee now victorious. 
 Each stone they threw is made a gem to fit 
 Th' eternal crown that on thy head shall sit. 
 The succeeding age produced an array of writers with 
 many of whom we are quite familiar. Pope, Thomson, 
 Voltaire, Gray, Samuel Johnson, Goldsmith and Burns, each 
 distinguished in other fields of literature, have left us many 
 epigrams of merit; and so we may continue the list of names 
 until wo reach Wordsworth, Scott and Sydney Smith, writers 
 of the present century. Samuel Wesley, a brother of the 
 better known John Wesley, must be included in the list, and 
 it may be of interest to reproduce a specimen of his style. 
 The lines I quote were written on the erection in Westminster 
 Abbey of a monument to Butler, the neglected author of 
 Hud [bras 
 
 Whilst Butler, needy wretch ! was yet alive, 
 No gen'rous patron would a dinner give 
 See him, when starv'd to death, and turn'd to dust, 
 Presented with a monumental bust ! 
 The poet's fate is here in emblem shown, 
 He ask'd for bread, and he receiv'd a stone! 
 
 \Vry similar to the style of Wesley is that of Matthew Green, 
 a contemporary of his. and author of The Spleen. His severe 
 liin-s, on the modern lady of his time, are worth quoting, 
 and, as I may point out, are written like most of the examples 
 I lia\v given, in the decasyllabic verse so often adopted for 
 the purposes of epigram 
 
 THE MODERN LAI>Y. 
 
 Could our first father, at his toilsome plough, 
 Thorns in his path, and labour on his brow, 
 Clotlfd only in a rude, impolish'd skin, 
 Could IK- a vain, fantastic nymph have seen, 
 In all lu-r airs, in all her modern graces, 
 Her various fashions, and mi-re various faces ; 
 
122 ME. CLIFFORD B. EDGAR ON 
 
 How had it puzzled him, who late assign'd 
 Just appellations to each several kind, 
 A right idea of the sight to frame, 
 To guess from what new element she came, 
 To fix the wavering form, and give the thing a name! 
 Coming down to the epigrammatists of the last hundred 
 years, we find a greatly increased variety of topic and style 
 of treatment, many of the most brilliant productions being due 
 to continental writers. Some of these I would have been glad 
 to quote had I been able to find them adequately translated, 
 but it hardly needs sayirig that, in the matter of epigram, 
 translation is inferior only (if at all) in difficulty to composition. 
 There is, however, one body of literature, produced entirely 
 within the last hundred years, which fortunately needs no 
 translation, and to which it would hardly be proper to make 
 no reference. I mean what is called " American Literature." 
 It may be said with substantial truth that no poetry worthy 
 of preservation was produced in America until after the War 
 for Independence. This great event, which, in stirring the 
 deeper feelings of the people, seems to have been the first 
 thing to rouse the dormant Muse, gave a political tinge to 
 everything that was written, and it was not for a good 
 many years that the verse produced ceased to be political 
 first and literary afterwards. Since that time a great mass 
 of poetry, some of it admirable, has been given to the world 
 by American writers, but I doubt very much whether these 
 writers have contributed anything like a full proportionate 
 share to the literature of epigram. It is true they have 
 produced plenty of poetry full of the tenderest feelings, 
 plenty brimming over with rich humour, and an abundance 
 of pieces characterised by a quaintness and eccentricity 
 peculiar to the States ; but whether it be that American 
 humour and satire alike contain exaggeration as too large an 
 ingredient, whether the use of slang and colloquialisms be too 
 much relied on to give point to American wit, or whether it 
 be that writers have often elaborated their happy thoughts at 
 
THE HISTORY OF EPIGRAM. 123 
 
 too great length to be classed as pure epigram, certain it is 
 that we find fewer genuine examples than might be naturally 
 expected. We meet with plenty of quaint conceits, quaintly 
 expressed, but incorporated in comparatively long compositions. 
 As one specimen, take the piece of philosophy which Lowell 
 gives us in II own Hnjloic 
 
 A marciful Providence fashion'd us holler 
 
 ( )' purpose that we might our principles swaller. 
 
 This is a fair sample of hundreds of such thoughts, and of 
 tlif way of putting them. A more refined couplet of Lowell's 
 is that in which he speaks of the presentment by successive 
 writers of the same idea 
 
 -Though old the thought and oft exprest, 
 'Tis his at last who says it best. 
 
 This is well put; but although Lowell's poems and speeches 
 are alike studded with gems of humour and wisdom, yet, as a 
 writer of epigram proper, he must give precedence to another 
 who is les> known in England than he deserves to be, Mr. John 
 Codi'n-y Saxe, a poet of versatility and great refinement of 
 style. I quote two examples from his pen 
 
 " Here, wife," said Will, " I pray you devote 
 Just half a minute to mend this coat, 
 Which a nail has chanced to rend "- 
 
 " Tis ten o'clock." said his drowsy mate. 
 
 "1 know," said Will, "it is rather late, 
 But, * 'tis never too late to mend.' " 
 
 Tin- other contains an excellent specimen of pure repartee 
 As Tom and his wife were discoursing one day 
 Of tlh-ir several faults, in a bantering way. 
 Said she " Though my wit you disparage. 
 I'm sure, my dear husband, our friends will attest 
 This much at the least, that my judgment is best," 
 Oiinth Tom "So they said at our marriage." 
 
 To glance for one moment at other American authors, we find 
 that Whittier, the Quaker poet, with his sober themes and 
 pathetic style, has giv-n us nothing that can be called epigram. 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes, although possessing a sly good- 
 
MR. CLIFFORD B. EDGAR ON 
 
 natured wit and a joyousness of heart all his own, has, so far 
 as I am aware, made no contribution to this literature. Nay, 
 even Bret Harte, with all his vigorous national poems, his 
 parodies, and his dialect verses, may be searched in vain for 
 anything for quotation here. Fond as our American cousins 
 are of a joke, the genius of their humour does not appear to 
 be strongly epigrammatic. 
 
 Of English writers of the present and precading genera- 
 tions, there is so much to be said that even the baldest outline 
 would occupy a whole evening, and this notwithstanding that, 
 as there seems too much reason to fear, epigram writing lias 
 received a greatly diminished amount of attention in late 
 years, when we consider the enormous body of general 
 literature produced. Time forbids my enlarging on this part 
 of my subject, and besides, I may safely presume that of the 
 whole literature of the epigram, it is with this portion that you 
 are the most familiar already. My object being to review the 
 stages through which this form of composition has passed, I 
 have not wished to consider the case of any particular writer 
 further than as serving to illustrate the subject. I will only 
 remark that a great many choice specimens, which have 
 appeared in magazines and other periodical publications, have 
 not been permanently preserved to us ; and secondly, that it is 
 by no means always in those authors from whom we would 
 look most confidently for examples that our search is best 
 rewarded. A specimen of university wit, which I extract from 
 an old Oxford collection, will serve as one of numberless 
 instances that might be given, in which epigram of merit, 
 having a local and personal application, has attained only a 
 restricted and temporary currency, and then been lost sight of. 
 It is a mock epitaph to an Oxford pie-wornan, and reads 
 
 TO THE PIE-HOUSE MEMORY OF NELL BATCHELOR, 
 AN OXFORD PIE-WOMAN. 
 
 Here deep in the dust 
 The mouldy old crust 
 
 Of Nell Batchelor lately was shoven, 
 
THE HISTORY OF EPIGRAM. 125 
 
 Who was skilled in the arts 
 Of pies, puddings, and tarts, 
 ' And knew every use of the oven. 
 When she'd lived long enough, 
 She made her last puff, 
 
 A puff by her husband much prais'd, 
 And now here she doth lie, 
 And makes a dirt pie, 
 
 In hopes that her crust will be rais'd. 
 
 Epigram writing, be it observed, is a style which requires 
 peculiar and special capacity in the author, a capacity which 
 does not always exist in a great poet. Cow per, for instance, 
 with all his genius, was a poor epigrammatist, and was 
 excelled in this respect by men of infinitely inferior poetic 
 power. Then again, as a mere mental exercise, the epigram is 
 worth attention, for the terseness which it requires is of great 
 advantage in imparting elegance to conversation and general 
 literature. The view put forward on this point by Graves, 
 in one of his essays, will recommend itself to some. He 
 says 
 
 Young people might receive the same advantage to their style in 
 writing, and to their manner of expressing themselves in conversation, 
 from being accustomed to the force and conciseness peculiar to an 
 epigram, as it is allowed they generally do, to their way of thinking 
 and reasoning, from the close method of argumentation essential to 
 mathematical writings. 
 
 There seems to me to be considerable force in these remarks. 
 The composition of Latin epigrams is still retained as a 
 useful exercise in some of our public schools and universities, 
 and if it be advantageous to write graceful Latin epigrams 
 for the promotion of terse classical composition, surely it 
 must lie also advantageous to write English epigrams with 
 the same object in reference to our native language. Looking 
 back on the subject as a whole, \ve find that the most scathing 
 satire, equally with the loftiest eulogy, has been lavished by 
 writers upon each other. What can excel the fine lines in 
 which Dryden compares Milton to Homer and Virgil? 
 
126 MR. CLIFFORD B. EDGAR ON 
 
 Three poets, in three distant ages born, 
 Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. 
 The first in loftiness of thought surpass'd ; 
 The next, in majesty : in both, the last. 
 The force of Nature could no further go ; 
 To make a third, she join'd the former two. 
 
 Or again, Pope's magnificent couplet on Sir Isaac Newton ? 
 Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night : 
 God said, " Let Newton be," and all was light. 
 
 On the other hand, take the reproof administered by Boileau 
 to the abbe* Cotin, for having passed off some of his own verses 
 under Boileau's name 
 
 Of all the pens which my poor rhymes molest, 
 
 Cotin's is sharpest, and succeeds the best. 
 
 Others outrageous scold, and rail downright, 
 
 With hearty rancour, and true Christian spite. 
 
 But he a readier method does design, 
 
 Writes scoundrel verses, and then says they're mine ! 
 
 Boileau, however, was severe on everyone. It was he, you 
 may remember, who wrote as an epitaph upon his own wife- 
 Here lies my wife ; and Heaven knows 
 Not less for mine, than for her own repose. 
 
 We have been treating thus far of epigrams properly so 
 called, that is to say, of set compositions, possessing more or less 
 of the poetic form in which we expect to find the orthodox 
 epigram embodied. In modern epigrams, not only is it verse 
 which is employed, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred it 
 is rhyme also, and to our ears the rhyme adds much to the 
 effect. I said in the early part of my paper that humour 
 involves the unexpected, and that this is why the point of 
 modern epigrams is found in the last line. I have come to 
 the conclusion that, apart from the less attractiveness of form, 
 one reason why prose is not adapted for the purposes of epigram 
 is that in prose a writer can neither choose with the same 
 exactness the precise moment for making his point, nor fling 
 it upon you with the same startling abruptness. Hence we do 
 not speak of prose epigram. Of epigrammatic prose, however, 
 
THE HISTORY OF EPIGRAM. 127 
 
 we find abundance, that is to say, language possessing all the 
 qualities of epigram except the form and arrangement. This 
 as to written language. As to speaking, of course any man 
 who talked extemporised verse would run a great risk that 
 people would laugh at instead of with him ; but many of our 
 wittiest men, who, like their less gifted fellows, and like the 
 hero of Moliere's comedy, of course " talked prose," continually 
 let fall remarks which contained all the materials for epigram 
 manufacture, if I may so speak. Take the case of Sydney 
 Smith, who was always saying the most telling things in this 
 way. He said 
 
 Marriage I consider to resemble a pair of shears, so joined that they 
 cannot be separated, often moving in opposite directions, yet always 
 punishing anyone who comes between them. 
 
 Notice here the fanciful comparison. Or, to take a " broader " 
 example, we find that, someone having remarked that many 
 eminent men were diminutive in person, Smith exclaimed 
 
 Yes, there's my little friend Blank, who hasn't body enough to cover 
 his mind decently with ; his intellect is improperly exposed. 
 Here we see a characteristically ludicrous and telling way of 
 putting things, owing none of its point to any pun or play 
 upon words, on which so many of Theodore Hook and Tom 
 Hood's good sayings are founded. 
 
 And now a word as to the influence of epigram generally. 
 In all ages the epigram, and its ill-bred cousin the lampoon, 
 have exercised a great influence in the spheres of art. politics, 
 and literature. A distich written under a picture, a couplet 
 improvised ly a statesman, or by a demagogue, or a quatrain 
 from the pen of a reviewer, has been si'i/fd upon and adopted 
 as an embodiment of popular opinion; and many a time has 
 the artist, poet, or dramatist stood condemned at the instance 
 of a probably anonymous assailant. At the same time, in a 
 vast majority of personal cases, the epigram has not long 
 survived the occasion which gave it birth, and even where it 
 has been preserved to us, we, of course, lose much of its point. 
 Ridicule is a most powerful weapon, especially when contained 
 
128 THE HISTORY OF EPIGRAM. 
 
 in epigrammatic form. In the hands of the author it may 
 silence a rival, in those of the politician it may cover an 
 opponent with confusion, even in the pulpit it may be made 
 a vehicle of the sternest reproof, whilst in every-day life its 
 applications are endless. 
 
 There is one other aspect of the subject as a whole on 
 which I must ask leave to touch before closing. It is this 
 that the diminished amount of attention which epigram 
 writing receives now-a-days is a matter for serious regret, from 
 the historian's point of view. As Mr. Dodd says 
 
 Epigrammatic literature displays national history. The various 
 turns of events, as they quickly pass, are caught, and, as it were, 
 photographed in the epigrams of the day ; and minor circumstances, 
 which may eventually enable the historian to discover the small causes of 
 great changes, are chronicled in a serious distich or witty quatrain. It 
 reflects, too, the national mind. The characteristics of the time, the 
 temperament, manners and habits of the people are portrayed. " There 
 is always a strong reciprocal action and reaction of the popular mind on 
 literature, as well as of literature on the public mind." If this is true of 
 poets in general, how especially true is it of epigrammatists. Authors of 
 this class have, from the earliest times, not only been affected by the 
 passions and feelings of the people, but have worked upon those feelings, 
 and directed their course. 
 
 Time forbids any further consideration of this, the philosophic, 
 and by no means the least interesting phase of the subject. 
 I have attempted to trace the origin and subsequent develop- 
 ment of the epigram, and further to point out its capabilities 
 and influence ; in short, to show that whatever is " condensed " 
 in sentiment, be its theme humorous, satirical, patriotic, moral, 
 or eulogistic, finds its most telling embodiment in the form of 
 epigram, and that the literature of this subject, containing as 
 it does some of the noblest truths and most brilliant conceits 
 ever expressed, must be regarded as of no little importance and 
 interest, and as forming in some sense the very salt and 
 seasoning of the world of letters. 
 
 January 12th, 188. r >. 
 
Flaws in the Rducation of Girls. 
 
 By MR. EDWARD KING. 
 
 ET us start with a definition : Education, in the 
 full and just meaning of the word, signifies the 
 various processes by which the body and mind are 
 thoroughly trained, so as to fit them for the reason- 
 able demands of mature life. Of course in such a definition there 
 is no reference to religious training, which does not come within 
 the scope of the present discussion. It has been finely said 
 that " the intelligence cannot be unintelligently developed " ; 
 but, though this has the palpable force of a truism, in practice 
 it is too often ignored. The flaws in the elementary education 
 of girls are cases in point. In many families the engagement 
 of a nursery governess is considered as a matter of less moment 
 than the genteel appearance of the housemaid or parlourmaid, 
 and the cook is treated with a consideration which is fourfold 
 that enjoyed by her to whom the planting of the seed-thoughts 
 of childhood is entrusted. Is it just to expect the propagation 
 of bright and noble thoughts by those who are treated ignobly ? 
 Rnskin's protest (in 1864) has almost equal force to-day 
 
 ^'liat teachers do you give your girls, and what reverence do 3 r ou 
 show the teachers you have chosen ? Is a girl likely to think her own 
 conduct, or her own intellect, of much importance, when you trust the 
 entire formation of her character m<>r;il and intellectual to a person 
 whom you let your servants treat with less respect than you do your 
 housekeeper (as if the soul of your child were a less charge than jams and 
 groceries) and whom you yourself think you confer an honour upon by 
 letting her sometimes sit in the drawing room of an evening '. 
 Let us not be misunderstood ; we are not making sweeping 
 complaints. In thousands of homes the place of the educator is 
 recognised as a position of honour and of exalted trust, and it 
 
130 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 is just that it should be so. The onus of the flaw lies with those 
 who, by their almost intolerable snobbery and mischievous 
 ignorance, do their best to crush out a noble energy of soul and 
 purpose from the just educational aims of those who are often 
 refined and high-minded gentlewomen, driven by the stress of 
 necessity to a work involving grave responsibilities, rewarded 
 by miserable pay, contempt, and ingratitude. 
 
 There are many contributory causes to the existence of 
 flaws in the education of girls ; but there are two which seem 
 to meet us on the threshold of the subject. One of these owes 
 its existence to a mean and narrow view of the scope and 
 province of education, and the other to that debasing " craze 
 for cheapness" which infests modern society to its lasting- 
 detriment and disgrace. The first flaw, or error, is that a 
 girl's education finishes when she turns her back upon the 
 schoolroom ; the second blemish owes its origin to the craving 
 for profuse variety and showy studies on the part of parents 
 rather than for that which is less varied, but far more practical 
 and enduring. As with furniture so is it with education ; its 
 value can only be estimated by the experience of the wear of 
 years ; cheap and showy goods chip and look hideous through 
 the legitimate attritions of time ; a hollow and tinsel education 
 collapses and disgusts under the pressure and the inevitable 
 necessities of life. Look a little deeper than the mere surface 
 of things ; follow up observation by reflection and analysis, 
 and you will find it quite possible to trace much of the 
 discontent, the waste, the folly, and the contracted sympathies 
 and mental vision, the petty aims and unworthy motives of 
 played-out old women of five and thirty to the cruel fate that 
 gave them an education which was not planned by practical 
 common sense with an eye to the inevitable wear and tear of 
 the future. The phrases of our language have something to 
 do with the blunders pertaining to education, and as frequently 
 mislead as alliterative proverbs. " When do you finish your 
 education" ? or "My daughter will finish her education with 
 
FLAWS IN THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 131 
 
 the Lent term " are words which proclaim a lamentable want 
 of a just appreciation of the fitness of things. With her 
 school clays a girl ends a preliminary section of her education, 
 perhaps; but in most cases the alphabets of taste, just 
 perception, right judgment, and an acute knowledge of the 
 relative value of things have yet to be mastered. At such a 
 juncture it is positive folly and cruelty to leave a girl to her 
 own resources of self teaching, and yet it is virtually done in 
 a multitude of cases. Lacking a gentle, and loving, and 
 suggestive oversight, the child of the selfish woman of fashion 
 who lias just left school, as the result of natural impulse and 
 the rebound of pent up animal spirits, joyously exchanges an 
 enforced sanctimonious primness for a style which is nothing 
 if not " loud," and the bald literature of facts for the florid 
 extravagances of voluptuous fiction. The child very naturally 
 soon becomes the reflex of the mother, and what cause for 
 wonder so long as weeds produce weeds, and indiscretion is 
 the offspring of folly. Of such how truly sings Coventry 
 Patmore : 
 
 All, wasteful woman ! she who may 
 On her sweet self set her own price, 
 
 Knowing he cannot choose but pay 
 How has she cheapen'd Paradise ! 
 
 How given for nought her priceless gift, 
 
 How spoiled the bread and spill'd the wine, 
 
 Which, spent with due, respective thrift, 
 Had made brutes men and men divine ! 
 
 With the termination of the schooldays the education of 
 tin- understanding is sometimes supposed to commence. We 
 have here a fairly just theory which seldom resolves itself into 
 fact. But should it not have been more than a theory long 
 het'ore the period of school education terminated, seeing that to 
 understand and perceivo is to live, and that the reverse is mere 
 mechanical existence ? Books are as essential to a girl after 
 she leaves school as during the time of her preliminary 
 education. Even the slight w r ear and tear of the morning of 
 
132 MH. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 life will soon make shabby her small stock of elementary 
 knowledge, if they do not indeed absorb it entirely, and make 
 pressing demands for more. In this respect if she would be 
 happy she must be progressive. As human education is as wide 
 as life itself Sydney Smith and Sir Joshua Reynolds have 
 some thoughts on the " life conduct of the understanding " 
 which may well be quoted here. Reynolds says : 
 
 Even the greatest natural genius cannot subsist on its own stock : 
 he who resolves never to ransack any mind but his own will be soon 
 reduced from mere barrenness to the poorest of all imitations ; he will 
 be obliged to imitate himself, and to repeat what he has before repeated. 
 And, with his usual common sense, Sydney Smith remarks : 
 
 It is a mistake equally fatal to the memory, the imagination, the 
 powers of reasoning, and to every faculty of the mind to think too early 
 that we can live upon our stock of unders banding that it is time to 
 leave off business and make use of the acquisitions we have already made, 
 without troubling ourselves any further to add to them. It is no more 
 possible for an idle person to keep together a certain stock of knowledge 
 than it is possible to keep together a stock of ice exposed to the meridian 
 sun. Every day destroys a fact, a relation, or an inference, and the only 
 method of preserving the bulk and value of the pile is by constantly 
 adding to it. 
 
 Possibly this foolish desire to " have done " with education 
 may sometimes be traced to the high pressure methods adopted 
 at some schools where girls are forced up to showy examination 
 results against their will and much beyond their present 
 natural mental capacity. The overgorged mind of the young 
 abhors repletion as much as does the body, and in some 
 constitutions it seems only natural that enforced excessive 
 study should be followed by a revulsion of feeling which 
 makes thoughtful reading ever afterwards distasteful. We 
 outrage nature and common sense, and then inanely wonder 
 at ultimate failure; the real wonder would be were it 
 otherwise. When it is remembered how frequently in after 
 life the education of a girl is left to take care of itself, there 
 seems all the greater reason that its foundations should be 
 thorough and substantial rather than showy and flimsy. In 
 
FLAWS IX THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 133 
 
 after life men more frequently build up their knowledge than 
 women; by close contact with the world and the acute knowledge 
 of their fellow men they are almost stung into mental activity, 
 because they are almost ashamed to stagnate ; they cannot 
 afford to dawdle in the rear of contemporary fact and thought, 
 for they would be regarded with an unwelcome compassion 
 were their minds not " up to date." But in the case of many 
 women there is no special or exacting demand for an " up to 
 date " self-education ; other matters (and too frequently 
 absurdly trivial ones) appear more pressing, and so, if the 
 foundation of their education is faulty in thoroughness, they 
 find themselves in after life in a pitiful condition indeed ; the 
 showy part of their education is useless, and the flimsy 
 unnatural method of enforcing what would have been really 
 useful has caused it to long ago evaporate from the mind. 
 This claptrap show system of education has grown to the 
 most pernicious and dangerous dimensions, and it is the 
 obvious duty of every sensible parent to negative its success 
 by steadfastly declining to send children where its vulgar and 
 mischievous presence is evident. Carried to extremes it is a 
 death blow to the charming simplicity of childhood ; its 
 exponents think as much of the trumpery theatricals of their 
 pupils as the more conscientious teacher of a thorough 
 grounding in writing, spelling, and arithmetic, and such 
 hireling instructors of youth are not above pampering the 
 stomachs of their pupils by a wastefully luxurious table, if they 
 can thereby bribe them to give a good account of the land 
 wlim holiday time comes round. Per se the mild theatricals 
 of school life are nothing to complain about ; it is only when 
 their importance is exalted to a ridiculous and unhealthy 
 altitude that they are worthy of censure, or when exacting 
 parts are taken by girls of sensitive and delicate temperament. 
 This remark naturally suggests that there is a health 
 aspect to "flaws in the education of girls"; and here the 
 ignorance and indifference of many mothers have as much to 
 
134 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 do with the defects in question as the teachers themselves, 
 because after their daughters have left school the unfortunate 
 silence of the mother is the not infrequent cause of much 
 mischief which will readily present itself to thoughtful minds. 
 Were the valuable and harmless pages of such sterling health 
 handbooks as those of Andrew Coome and Cassell's Book of 
 Health more widely studied by the young of either sex, much 
 sickness and unhappiness would be prevented and the health 
 of the nation greatly improved. In many fashionable towns 
 where girls' schools abound the morning walk, the very 
 essence of formality and rigorous regularity, is irritating 
 through its exacting restraints, and is only successful as a 
 peripatetic advertisement for the principals, who, in the 
 planning of such exasperating promenades, have an eye to 
 much frequented streets rather than the fields where the 
 pupils might romp and play at their own sweet will and 
 successfully court the invigorating smiles of Hygeia. As 
 bearing upon this point let me quote a few lines from Dr. 
 Cantlie in the Book of Health. Speaking of the " two and two 
 boarding school walk," he says 
 
 It is an infliction that has to be gone through in which the girls may 
 neither look to the right nor to the left, may neither smile nor run may 
 do nothing in fact that Nature prompts them to do. Place a handcuff 
 between the two as they walk out, and you do what is being done to these 
 young girls' spirits. What is the consequence after school days are over ? 
 As the captive revels when set free, the girl rapidly falls away from her 
 stiff training ; she has two lives : one the boarding school life, for her 
 society manners ; another, the opposite, for home life, in which she is sure 
 to run to the other extreme. She may be chosen for a wife by someone 
 who has seen only the boarding school side of her existence. After 
 marriage the revulsion from this, the training of her youth, becomes more 
 marked, and the accomplishments and training are laid aside ; she becomes 
 careless alike of her own improvement, her husband's feelings, and her 
 children's mental welfare. Depend upon it, this is one of the chief causes 
 of unhappy homes. 
 
 Or we may put it in another way. As the pony, harmless and 
 innocent in itself, which has been tied up in the stable too long, 
 
FLAWS IN THE EDUCATION OF GIKLS. 135 
 
 is the most likely to get into mischief and danger, so the school 
 girl, full of innocent animal spirits, and rejoicing in her escape 
 from the austere bondage of an unnatural deportment and rigid 
 conventionalities, is the most likely of all girls to fall a victim 
 to the selfish and disastrous snares of the designing, who know 
 no higher ambition than personal gratification. Thereupon, 
 Mrs. Grundy, who is nothing, if not woodenheaded, is greatly 
 shocked, forgetting that her harsh and unnatural laws have 
 had a great deal to do with the first causes of a social disaster, 
 from which she hastens to turn away, with many pious 
 and conventional ejaculations. " Ah but," the short-sighted 
 exclaim, " if our girls are to be permitted to run wild in the 
 fields, and to laugh and shout without restraint, what a 
 generation of uncouth Tomboys in petticoats would be the 
 result." But does that really follow ? Health lends a primary 
 charm to the graces of maidenhood ; and how is that health to 
 be secured ? By the observance of the stiff, and the formal, 
 and the restrained ? Are the natural grace and lofty bearing 
 of tribes we are pleased to call semi-savage thus engendered ? 
 And if not, why are we to expect the designs of Nature to be 
 completely reversed in a highly artificial state of civilization, 
 and look for an ideal grace as the result of our clumsy and ill- 
 advised methods ? Mr. Herbert Spencer's excellent plea for 
 the " running w r ild " of girls at a time when so much depends 
 upon a common-sense latitude in this respect may well 
 commend itself to every thoughtful and humane mind. He 
 does not think that unladylike habits will be formed by such 
 legitimate license, and argues that 
 
 If the sportive activity allowed in boys does not prevent them 
 growing up into gentlemen, why should a like sportive activity prevent 
 girls from growing up into ladies ? Rough as may have been their play- 
 gmund frolics, youths who have left school do not indulge in leap-frog in 
 the streets, or marbles in the drawing room. Abandoning their jackets, 
 they abandon at tin- same time boyish games, and display an anxiety 
 often a ludicrous anxiety to avoid whatever is not manly. If now, on 
 arriving at the duo age, this feeling of masculine dignity puts so efficient 
 
136 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 a restraint on the sports of boyhood, will not the feeling of feminine 
 modesty, gradually strengthening as maturity is approached, put an 
 efficient restraint on the like sports of girlhood ? Have not women an 
 even greater regard for appearance than men ? And will there not 
 consequently arise in them even a stronger check to whatever is rough or 
 boisterous ? 
 
 Now is there not reason and practical good sense in such an 
 argument as this ? Fortunately for girls intelligent ideas on 
 their health education are gaining ground, thanks to such able 
 writers as Huxley, Herbert Spencer, Ruskin, Kingsley, Miss 
 Frances Power Cobbe, Dr. Edward Clarke (of Boston, U.S.A.), 
 and the Rev. Professor Momerie ; the last-named having done 
 excellent service to the cause by including " The Culture of the 
 Body " in his vigorous and valuable pulpit lectures on 
 " Common Duties." But we must beware of flying to extremes ; 
 the body is as liable to exhaustion from excessive over-training 
 as the mind, as witness the not infrequent collapses of highly 
 excitable and sensitive girls after a lawn tennis victory, bought 
 as the result of a pernicious exhaustion, which renders the 
 sufferer specially liable to fall a prey to any prevailing- 
 epidemic. Excessive physical tension may also cause evil 
 results when rowing or dancing are carried to extremes. Not 
 long since an amateur oarsman was heard boasting that he 
 would " back his sister over a half-mile course with any man." 
 Such a thoughtless vaunt shows that the want of a due regard 
 to proportion in education, whether physical or mental, becomes 
 little short of a disastrous and offensive deformity. There 
 appears less chance of the evils of physical overstrain in 
 the sports of girls if they are taught at school to take a 
 a reasonable degree of pleasure in gymnastics. It is a good 
 sign of the times that at many of the better-class schools a 
 rational amount of gymnastic exercise is encouraged, and with 
 advantageous results. Of course, as in the case of the more 
 robust sports of boys, it is not every girl whose physique is 
 suited for the gymnasium, any more than that of every boy is 
 suited for rowing, football, or cricket. The results are usually 
 
FLAWS IN THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 137 
 
 most beneficial, if there is a careful oversight to restrain any 
 tendency to excess on the part of enthusiasts. It has been 
 very properly pointed out that one great benefit derived from 
 gymnastic exercises is that the girls are, at least for the time 
 being, compelled to wear loose clothing, in which they can 
 move their arms, and experience no difficulty in stooping or 
 bending and turning their body. Many of them, having once 
 experienced the difference between a dress encumbering their 
 almost every motion and the loose, comfortable gown, in which 
 their limbs are their servants, and not their tyrannical masters, 
 begin to adopt hygienic clothing. 
 
 Of course it almost goes without saying that if girls, and 
 those whose place it is to teach them at school, and subsequently 
 train them at home, were more thoroughly and generally 
 grounded in the first principles of health, many of the common 
 and preventible ailments of youth would be comparatively 
 unknown. In that case Nature would not be outraged by the 
 absurd and mischievous anomaly of the attempt to gather 
 fruit from young trees with roots yet unestablished, or. to 
 dispense with metaphor, to force an unnatural brain product 
 from tender children whose physical education can scarcely be 
 said to have fairly commenced. If it be true that in the case 
 of the adult the perfectly sound brain can only be the com- 
 panion of the perfectly sound and matured body, how much 
 more so is it essential to bear the spirit of this fact in mind in 
 the case of children who have so small a proportion of 
 judgment to counteract any mental excesses, caused by the 
 severe competitive emulation of other pupils or the mischievous 
 and foolish plaudits of designing teachers thirsting to show off 
 their skill in teaching ? Or those distressing mental excesses 
 may owe their origin to vain and thoughtless parents, proud 
 to parade the results of examinations which may have been 
 won at the cost of health. And even if health be not 
 unimpaired, what failure is more ridiculous than that offensive 
 outcome of premature brain stuffing the precocious girl-prig 
 
138 ME. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 of ten or a dozen summers ? She has seldom a decent per- 
 centage of the child charms of her schoolfellows ; she feels 
 herself their superior, and is therefore cordially disliked ; she 
 is a middle-aged woman before other girls have emerged from 
 the enchanting realm of maidenhood ; and as for love, she is 
 no more likely to win a husband than she is to think herself 
 what she really is the exact antithesis of all that is womanly, 
 lovable and charming. May not all w r ho have anything to do 
 with the education of girls remember with profit Ruskin's 
 poetical and yet practical injunction : 
 
 You have first to mould her physical frame, and then, as the 
 strength she gains will permit you, to fill and temper her mind with all 
 knowledge and thoughts which tend to confirm its natural instincts of 
 justice, and refine its natural tact of love. 
 
 And here I venture to record the impression that by the 
 words the refinement of the mind in " its natural tact of love," 
 Rusk in means to suggest a great deal more than merely 
 appears on the surface. It might be as presumptuous as it 
 might be unreasonable to contend that the instinct of love is 
 not general to maidenhood. The fact is as widely admitted as 
 its existence is universal, and yet how seldom is that "natural 
 tact " educated or " refined," as well it might be, with noble 
 advantage to all concerned ? Let me be more explicit on this 
 educational aspect of home life after a girl has left school. 
 She has now turned her back on child life; in a few short 
 years she will probably marry, and it is tacitly admitted that 
 on the wisdom of her choice, and her capacity to make herself 
 a sympathetic, intelligent companion to her husband, greatly 
 depends the sum of her and his happiness until death breaks 
 the bond. She will probably spend half, and the most 
 important part of her life as a married women. Speaking 
 generally, how much of her home education has been devoted 
 to the suggestion of a prudent choice, or to the training of 
 her mind in the evergreen art of winsome and intelligent 
 companionship for life ? Not infrequently little or nothing. 
 
FLAWS IX THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 139 
 
 And if this be really true, so long as the fact exists as a blot 
 upon the higher home education of girls who dare wonder 
 that indiscretions are commoner than they should be, or that 
 the divorce court seldom closes its doors for lack of work ? 
 Clubs are sometimes condemned as absorbing an unfair 
 proportion of the time of married men. The charge may be 
 often a just one. But there are generally causes for excesses 
 of &ny kind, and they are not always to be wholly laid at 
 the door of those who indulge in them. Men are sometimes 
 driven to seek sympathetic intellectual companionship outside 
 their homes, because they have sought it in vain at their own 
 firesides. Not that any man of sense would wish his wife 
 such a dull pedant in petticoats as Juvenal describes in his 
 immortal Sixth Satire : 
 
 the female pedagogue who pores 
 
 O'er her Palajmoii hourly ; who explores 
 
 All modes of speech, regardless of the sense, 
 
 But tremblingly alive to mood and tense ; 
 
 Who puzzles you with many an uncouth phrase 
 
 From some old canticle of Numa's days ; 
 
 Corrects her country friends, and cannot hear 
 
 Her husband soloecise without a sneer. 
 
 Rather would the wise man pray that the wife of his choice 
 might realise the dream truth of our English Tennyson : 
 
 Yet in the long years, liker must they grow ; 
 
 The man be more of woman, she of man ; 
 
 He gain in sweetness and in moral height, 
 
 Nr lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ; 
 
 She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, 
 
 Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind ; 
 
 Till at the last she set herself to man, 
 
 Like perfect music unto noble words. 
 
 In the case of not a few girls, balls and dances almost 
 iimunirnible, a fair sprinkling of "first nights " at "risky" 
 plays, and the indiscriminate reading of novels (many of 
 which are mischievously suggestive), combined with the time 
 spent on a wasteful expenditure on dress, not only leave 
 
140 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 meagre opportunity for any education in the innocent arts 
 of a wise and happy life companionship, but create so 
 perverted a mental vision that its attainment seems almost 
 hopeless. Yet these are the girls who are frequently the most 
 eager to marry great estates, rather than noble hearts, because 
 they are so ignorant of just thoughts that they think modest 
 means or a single life contemptible. Fortunately for England 
 there are tens of thousands of homes where the moral 
 atmosphere of " sweetness and light " is the exact antithesis 
 of all this unhealthy excitement. But it cannot be wisdom to 
 ignore ft gross evil because by its side dwells a noble amount 
 of good, and hence the needs be for reference to that which is 
 unlovely and unpleasant. It is only natural that the constant 
 reading of novels, the scenes of which are mostly glitter and 
 magnificence, whose love making is usually ushered in by a 
 dazzling dance, and whose lovers are as splendid in person as 
 in fortune, must tend to excite the impressionable mind of 
 the recently released school girl, and lay the foundation of 
 an exacting selfishness and hardness of character which fail to 
 find contentment in the reasonable and tranquil pleasures of 
 ordinary domestic life. The mischievous fiction that single 
 life is ignoble to women dies more slowly than the advance 
 of education should lead us to expect. Fashionable society is 
 too superficial to follow -out to its only logical and practical 
 ending the fact "that special qualities are necessary for 
 married life which all people do not possess." Those who 
 may be interested in following up this part of our subject 
 might read, with benefit, a thoughtful article in the 
 Westminster Review, for January, 1884, on " The Future of 
 Single Women," in which the writer makes out a very good 
 case for the advantages, in some instances, of what has been 
 quaintly described as " an industrial picnic in solitude," and 
 argues with ingenuity that 
 
 The great fact and problem of feminine life is womanhood, with 
 all its possibilities and varieties wifehood and motherhood are incidental 
 parts which may or may not enter into the life of each woman. 
 
FLAWS IN THE EDUCATION OF CJIRLS. 
 
 He asserts that 
 
 Womanhood and wifehood are not co-extensive, but up to this time 
 we have acted as though they were. 
 
 Reference having been incidentally made to the mis- 
 chievous influence of " risky " novels in the home education 
 of girls, it is only just to pay some small tribute to the 
 benificent educational influence of noble fiction. Insidious 
 and dangerous novels are often first read as the result of mere 
 accident. Given a home with only a contemptible permanent 
 supply of literature, the circulating library is eagerly resorted 
 to and fiction often selected haphazard, as the title strikes the 
 taste of the borrower, who, on such a principle of choice, may 
 have the misfortune to unwittingly drift into the perusal of 
 that which may be as insidious as it is unhealthy. Youth is 
 the period of acute mental hunger ; is it reasonable to expect 
 the ravenous to be fastidious ? But, by a judicious care, and 
 small expenditure, the home library of fiction may give an 
 early and noble tone to taste, and so supply the more urgent 
 mental wants of youth, that there need be small fear of a 
 descent to the garbage of the gutter. How can some parents 
 consistently censure their children for reading worse than 
 foolish books, when they have been so cruelly careless and 
 neglectful as not to scatter about their homes healthy novels 
 of worth and permanent repute ? And these are just the purse- 
 proud, ostentatious members of the snobocracy who \vill waste 
 over the wines of a solemn and tedious and dreary dinner as 
 much money as would buy their children a twelvemonth's 
 supply of sound and invigorating fiction. What is the petty 
 social gain derived from such doleful and heartless ceremonials 
 compared to the noble mental fare which may be gathered 
 from the study of Agnes in David Copperfald, or Trollope's 
 Grace Crawley, or the Cecilia Travers of Kenelm Chillingly, 
 or Thackeray's Lady Castlewood, or the mother of Amyas 
 Leigh in Charles Kingsley's Westward Ho? But often, in 
 such ill-ordered homes, though good fiction is wanting, some 
 
142 MR. EDWARD KING ON 
 
 baleful society journals are not. So young and hungry eyes 
 fall on these to their peril ; the pernicious is read because the 
 healthy and invigorating are not at hand. Surely, if parents 
 hardened men and women of the world consider themselves 
 past contamination from such sources, they might have some 
 thought for the sweetness and cleanliness of their children's 
 minds. Let Mr. Justice Hawkins be put in evidence on this 
 point of the evil tendency of some society journals. In 
 summing up a case, on March 17, 1885, he said 
 
 He did not think that . . . ladies would like it to go abroad 
 that they even read such articles as those which had been read in court. 
 Were all these descriptions of improprieties, of immoral and disgusting 
 scenes calculated to serve any good purpose ? Had such articles a tendency 
 to promote morality, to preserve the innocence of pure-minded girls, or 
 even to give harmless amusement to either sex, or were they written for 
 the purpose of pandering to depraved and prurient appetites already 
 existing, or of creating depraved and prurient appetites in those as yet 
 strange to them. 
 
 In theatrical matters things are little if any better. Look round 
 any theatre on the occasion of a " first night," and see how 
 large a section of the audience is made up of quite young girls. 
 Who dare blame them for being there, should the drama prove 
 of a mischievous character, and the plot be nothing if not 
 abounding in suggestive and " risky " situations ? But why 
 give them the chance of being there at all ? Surely a week 
 after a premiere would suffice. Not only would the company 
 act better, but there would then be time to avoid moral taint, 
 should the critiques indicate its presence. It is certainly time 
 to speak out when even one of the better edited society papers, 
 not notorious for its prudery, thus protests in its criticism of 
 " Princess George" (Society, January 24, 1885) 
 
 But it is no longer considered improper for women and young girls 
 to witness plays which are little more than a picture of vice put into 
 action, and to follow with interest and without shame the intricacies of 
 illicit amours. A couple of hundred years or so ago, when the loose 
 comedies of the Restoration reflected the vicious manners of the Court and 
 age, women went to the theatre and laughed over . . lascivious dialogue 
 
FLAWS TX THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 143 
 
 but they at least assumed the virtue of modesty if they had it 
 not, and paid a certain homage to decency by wearing masks. Our 
 modern maids and matrons are more honest, or more callous. They 
 listen to suggestive innuendos with cocked ears, and endorse them with a 
 smile. 
 
 Surely these are bitter, scathing words, though they apply only 
 to the careless section of the theatre-going community. But, 
 is there not a cause when facts are fairly faced ? If you pride 
 yourself upon your knowledge of the world, and yet doubt such 
 facts in their bearing upon some ill-regulated houses, just take 
 an analytical glance round one or two theatres which shall be 
 nameless, and which are now rilled nightly by eager and 
 appreciative throngs. 
 
 But a truce to objection and censure. The educational 
 flaws and faults in the training of girls, in a multitude of 
 showy and unsubstantial schools and homes, find a noble 
 reverse in the love, and the skill, and solicitude of those who 
 are the exponents of " a more excellent way." All honour to 
 such sensible, Christian teachers ! But what an uphill work is 
 theirs in a world which puts a premium on claptrap, and most 
 things which pertain to the unsubstantial and showy. Are 
 fit c*c. hollow methods those that produce the heroic wives who 
 are at their test when sickness strikes down the husband, or 
 financial adversity desolates the hearth ? Are these paltry 
 methods those that produce the wives whose thoughtful and 
 welcome counsel save the husband from many a false financial 
 move, and whose genial intellectual companionship makes the 
 1 mi ne coming bright in anticipation and brighter in reality. 
 The response of the experience of thousands of much blessed 
 husbands is "No: a thousand times, No" And if that be 
 fact, and if it be equally a fact that through the heartless 
 dishonesty, indifference, or laxity of those whose lofty ambition 
 it should be to mould the minds and tastes of girlhood 
 and maidenhood many an otherwise fair life is marred and 
 flawed past recovery, then what solicitude shall be thought 
 too great or what pains too exhaustive or constant to secure 
 
144 FLAWS IN THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 
 
 a near approach to the dainty and winsome ideal of the 
 
 poet ? 
 
 In mind and manners how discreet ! 
 
 How artless in her very art ; 
 How candid in discourse ; how sweet 
 The concord of her lips and heart. 
 How simple and how circumspect ; 
 How subtle and how fancy free ; 
 Though sacred to her love, how deck't 
 
 With unexclusive courtesy. 
 
 And, with such sweet words ringing in your ears I fain would 
 leave you to discussion. 
 
 March SQth, 18S5. 
 
Hospital Reform. 
 
 By DR. ROBERTS LAW. 
 
 N acceding to the request of the Council to bring 
 the subject of Hospital Reform before the mem- 
 bers of the Athenseum, I could not fail to see 
 that it is one in which all classes are interested, 
 and so well calculated, in spite of the inadequate manner in 
 which I fear it will be introduced, to be productive of an 
 interesting and valuable debate. At the commencement I 
 must call your attention to a reform which has already been 
 quietly and effectively carried out, in the marvellous improve- 
 ments of the nursing arrangements. The managers of the 
 large hospitals deserve the highest praise both from their 
 supporters and those who are unfortunately obliged to seek 
 relief from their sufferings at such institutions that the Mrs. 
 Gamp whom Dickens has made celebrated in Martin 
 Chuzzlcu'd has become a thing of the past and as unknown as 
 Mrs. Harris was to Mrs. Gamp's acquaintances. Her place is 
 filled by women who undertake the very arduous duties of 
 nursing from a love of the work. I cannot help mentioning 
 that a nurse has recently died at her post in University 
 College Hospital, and been followed to her grave by all with 
 whom she had worked for fifteen years as a last token of their 
 respect and affection. She was one of the first to receive the 
 decoration of St. Katherine, recently instituted by the Queen, 
 a iv ward not lightly or inconsiderately bestowed. Nothing 
 that I can write could in the smallest degree convey her worth 
 nor the loss the hospital has sustained in her death. Is it 
 possible for any woman to have spent her life more nobly or 
 
 L 
 
146 DR. ROBERTS LAW ON 
 
 more unselfishly ? In dealing with the question I only do so 
 as far as it affects the large and voluntary hospitals of the 
 kingdom. Other reforms in the working of the large hospitals 
 have been recognised by those who are interested in them for 
 some time. That such is the case is shown by the fact that the 
 Hospital Association has been formed. This association 
 sprang from a conference on hospital administration held by 
 the Social Science Association, when a committee was formed 
 on which was founded " The Hospital Association." It has on 
 its council men who are connected, either as administrators or 
 medical officers, with most of the large London and provincial 
 hospitals. The inaugural meeting was held at the Mansion 
 House on the 1st February, 1884. I am indebted to the secre- 
 tary of the association, Mr. Clifford Smith, for much valuable 
 information and literature on the subject. It is a matter for 
 congratulation that such a society exists, as it is to be hoped 
 that it will extinguish the rivalry, even if friendly, which has 
 hitherto existed between the large London hospitals, and 
 compelle 1 the managers or secretaries of their respective 
 institutions to cudgel their brains to devise new plans for 
 inducing the charity giving portion of the public to bestow 
 their money 011 the institution whose claims they advance. 
 Balls, bazaars, fancy fairs are all employed as means for 
 raising the wind, and members of the theatrical profession are 
 often persuaded to give their time and talents to bring grist to 
 one or other of the hospital mills. The credit of the latest 
 idea belongs to a talented actress whom the members are to 
 have the pleasure of hearing during the session, who has given 
 the proceeds of the sale of a paper read by her at the last 
 meeting of the Social Science Congress to the Chelsea Hospital 
 for Women. It is notorious that hospitals are always deeply 
 in debt and in urgent want of funds. In the reports of work 
 done during the year it is considered most damaging if a large 
 increase in the number of people over the previous year is not 
 shown. Hence it must with regret be admitted that the 
 
HOSPITAL KEFOKM. 147 
 
 quantity, not the quality, of the work done is considered 
 most likely to attract funds. Dr. Fairlie Clarke wrote in 
 Macmillan's Magazine 
 
 It requires some self-denial on the part of both the managers and 
 the medical officers to sanction an alteration whereby the number of 
 applicants would be diminished to any considerable extent. It is only 
 natural that those benevolent gentlemen who give largely both of their 
 money and time to support and to manage a hospital should wish to see 
 the institution prosper, and we have got into the way of thinking that 
 the chief test of prosperity is the number of applicants for admission. 
 Thus it is almost thought necessary to offer some explanation if the 
 number of patients one year is smaller than it was the year before, and an 
 ever increasing muster-roll is taken as a subject of congratulation. Surely 
 if this be so, it is allowing a mistaken charity to over-ride our patriotism, 
 it is to congratulate ourselves upon what is, in fact, a mark of social 
 decay, and of the unsatisfactory relation in which different classes stand 
 towards one another. Strange as it may seem to some, it is clear to all 
 thoughtful men that if any amelioration is going on in the social condition 
 of the lower orders, the dole giving charities whether their doles are 
 bread, blankets, or medical advice ought to be 'diminishing the circle of 
 their gifts and not enlarging it. Thus the managers of the hospitals, 
 when called upon to initiate a reform, are asked to allow their numbers 
 to be diminished and some of their applicants drafted off to other 
 institutions. 
 
 It is in the out-patient department that this has been 
 carried out most successfully; consequently it is here the 
 greatest abuses are to be found. The liberal way in which the 
 doors have been thrown open to rich and poor alike, no 
 questions asked, has naturally given the public to believe that 
 all are free to avail themselves of the advantages, real or 
 imaginary, that are offered by the hospitals. In this com- 
 mercial age the- ruling spirit seems to be an endeavour on the 
 part of most people to get what they want for as little as 
 possible, and if for nothing so much the better. It would be 
 surprising indeed had the out-patients departments of the 
 hospitals not been freely made use of. There is no doubt that 
 many of the applicants are in a position to pay, and often well, 
 for medical attendance. Many not able to pay a large doctor's 
 
14-8 DR. ROBERTS LAW ON 
 
 bill at once could invest a certain sum at intervals, and so 
 prepare for a rainy day. I have baen frequently astonished 
 how very negligent working men are in joining such clubs as 
 the Odd Fellows or Free Foresters when, for a small annual, 
 quarterly, or monthly payment, they can insure medical 
 attendance in illness, besides many other benefits. The 
 following extract from the British (did Foreign Medico- 
 Cfiirurgitxd Revleiv for January, 1875 (just ten years ago), 
 will give some idea of the department in question : 
 
 Hospital patients are frequently seen at the rate of fifty an hour. It 
 is true that private practice demands some little amenities which are not 
 required in public practice. But still, after making all due allowance of 
 this kind, we hold that the great evil of the present system is that patients 
 do not receive the time and attention which their cases demand. In 
 other words they do not receive what the hospital professes to give. The 
 cases do not get the careful advice which they fancy they will get by 
 resorting to a large institution, and this last does not carry out the object 
 for which its founders or governors have given their money. 
 
 Mr. Timothy Holmes, who has long called attention to the 
 abuses, says 
 
 In our overcrowded out-patient rooms a physician or surgeon can 
 neither give the required attention to the patients who require it, nor derive 
 and impart from the study of their cases those lessons which it is one of the 
 prime objects of a hospital to furnish. As the poor, he concludes, can- 
 not have due attention, the rich cannot expect to obtain the cultivation of 
 the skill which the teaching in the hospitals can give. This is a question 
 of the utmost importance to both rich and poor, and a change ought to 
 be made in the present system in the interest of both classes. 
 I must give an extract from a pamphlet by Mr. Sampson 
 Gamgee, of Birmingham, in which he shows that the number 
 of people seeking relief from the hospitals of that city have 
 largely increased, in spite of the increased health 
 
 The number of persons attending the Birmingham medical charities 
 was, in 1867, over 66,676 ; in 1876, over 104,048 ; showing an increase of 
 over 37,370, equal to 56 per cent. Reckoning the population of the 
 borough of Birmingham for 1867 at over 325,000, one person in every live 
 in that year obtained relief from our medical charities ; whereas the 
 proportion rose to one in 3 '5 in 1876, when the population was nearly 
 
HOSPITAL REFORM. HO 
 
 372,000. In the ten years the borough population increased 13 per cent., 
 
 and the number of persons relieved at the medical charities increased 50 
 
 per cent. In other words, in the past ten years the recipients of medical 
 
 charity in Birmingham have increased more than four times as fast as the 
 
 general population of the borough. During some of the ten years under 
 
 review trade generally was depressed, but several of the ten years 
 
 included in this enquiry, notably that of the Franco-German War, and 
 
 the three or four years immediately succeeding it, were a time of almost 
 
 unexampled prosperity. The fact is, it matters little for our hospitals 
 
 whether trade be good or bad. In all more or less, in some in a very 
 
 marked degree, the number of patients goes on increasing ; and each 
 
 annual report congratulates the governors and subscribers on the charity 
 
 having been attended by so many more persons than before. Throughout 
 
 the same decade 1867 to 1876 the wealth of Birmingham has gone on 
 
 increasing to an unparalleled extent. Palatial structures are everywhere 
 
 rising in our principal streets, millions have been spent in the purchase of 
 
 gas and water works, and the corporation has already purchased close 
 
 upon 1,000,000 sterling worth of property, in entering upon the great 
 
 scheme under the Artisans' Dwelling Act. In proof that the increase of 
 
 wealth has been substantial throughout the community, a few figures, 
 
 gathered from most trustworthy sources, will be sufficient. The ratable 
 
 value of property in the borough of Birmingham has risen from 1,014,037 
 
 in 1867 to 1,306,595 in 1876 ; an increase of 292,558, equal to 28'8 per 
 
 cent. , in the ten years. Still more remarkable is the increase in the value 
 
 of property within the borough, assessed under Schedule D of the Income 
 
 Tax. It amounted to 2,136,000 in 1867, 4,224,000 in 1876 ; very 
 
 nearly 100 per cent, increase. Our Post Office Savings Bank received 
 
 tH',6,337 in 1867, 279,681 in 1876 ; being an increase of 113,344, over 
 
 68 per cent., while in the No. 1 Building Society, which chiefly consists 
 
 of working men, the assets were 88,302 in 1867, 163,972 in 1876 ; an 
 
 increase of 85 per cent. The figures prove two facts firstly, a rapid 
 
 increase in the number of persons obtaining medical charity ; secondly, 
 
 a rapid increase in the wealth of all classes of this community. Is it to. 
 
 be understood that with the immense augmentation of wealth the number 
 
 of the population entitled to gratuitous medical relief has gone on 
 
 iniT.-asing in a progressive ratio/ In other words, that as wealth increases 
 
 so do beggan .' The answer to this question must be in the negative, so 
 
 far as \ve ean judge from the officials' returns of local pauperism. The 
 
 return for the parish of Birmingham for the week ending 28th December, 
 
 1SC.7, and corresponding week for 18761867, 11,442; 1876, 8,387; 
 
 showing a decrease of 3,055, equal to 36 per cent., in 1876 as compared 
 
150 DR. ROBERTS LAW ON 
 
 with 1867. Contrasting the decrease in the parish returns, the general 
 augmentation in the wealth of this community, and the immense increase 
 in the number of persons obtaining gratuitous medical aid at our hospitals 
 and dispensaries in 1870, as compared with 1807, it appears that in 1870 
 many thousand persons more than in 1807 sought and obtained gratuitous 
 medical relief who did not deserve it. Such a state of things suggests a 
 fraud on the benevolent, who furnish funds for the support of medical 
 charities, in the confident belief that their ministrations are confined to 
 worthy recipients. 
 
 I cannot follow out Mr. Gamgee's comparison to London, 
 but it will be admitted that the wealth of the metropolis has 
 kept pace with that of Birmingham. I have not been able to 
 procure the figures of the out-patients department of all the 
 great London hospitals, but by a circular of the Hospital 
 Sunday Funds there were 925,000 out-patients. The London 
 population within the circuit of the Metropolis Management 
 Act, in 1881, was 3,834,354 ; within the Metropolitan and 
 City Police District, 4,766,661. I will quote the following 
 from the report of the London Hospital : 
 
 The number of out-patients in 1800 was 25,500 ; in 1870, nearly 
 63,700; in 1880, nearly 58,500; in 1883, more than 64,200. 
 The increase between the years 1860 and 1870 is more 
 than double, which ought to indicate an unparalleled amount 
 of distress, but I am not aware that such was really the 
 case. Between 1870 and 1880 there was a decrease of 8,000, 
 which is trifling after the increase, but in 1883 the numbers 
 returned to more than they were in 1870. 
 
 Mr. W. H. Smith, M.P. for Westminster, has stated 
 publicly that one time he caused inquiries to be made into the 
 conditions of the out-patients at one of the large metropolitan 
 hospitals and found that 20 per cent, gave false addresses. 
 A similar investigation was instituted at St. Mary's Hospital, 
 Paddington, into the circumstances of twenty-six out-patients. 
 Five were cases of persons not suitable for hospital treatment ; 
 twelve were cases who could afford to pay to a provident 
 dispensary ; two gave false addresses ; seven were considered 
 proper objects for the charity. 
 
HOSPITAL REFORM* 151 
 
 The following is from Sir C. Trevelyan's pamphlet on 
 metropolitan medical relief, of an enquiry of out-patients of 
 the Royal Free Hospital. Each case was considered on its own 
 merits, and were classified as follows : 
 
 1. Those set down as able to pay a private practitioner who are 
 earning 40s. a week or more. 
 
 2. Those earning from 20s. to 40s. are considered proper members 
 for provident dispensaries, also single persons in some cases, though 
 earning less than 20s. per week. 
 
 3. Persons earning less than 20s. per week, but still . enough for 
 their support in health without parish assistance, are classed as "proper 
 applicants." 
 
 4. Parish cases include all those who are actually in receipt of 
 parish relief either for themselves or any of their families, as well as those 
 who can barely support themselves by their earnings during health, and 
 who, in time of sickness, cannot obtain even the necessaries of life. 
 
 5. Those who have given false information as to name and address. 
 
 6. When information obtained was not sufficient to enable the 
 investigators to form any opinion, the case has been set aside. The 
 numbers were as follows : 
 
 CLASS I. Afford to pay private practitioner ... 12 
 
 ,, II. Provident dispensaries 231 
 
 ,, III. Proper applicants 169 
 
 ,, IV. Parish cases 57 
 
 ,, V. Gave false addresses 103 
 
 ,, VI. Information insufficient 69 
 
 TOTAL 641 
 
 From these figures it results that, after excluding the 172 
 contained in the two last classes, 2| per cent, of the 
 remainder were considered suitable for private practitioners, 
 49 per cent, for provident institutions, and 12 per cent, 
 for parish assistance, whilst 36 per cent, are classed as 
 propei- applicants. 
 
 It is now time to examine some of the plans propounded 
 by which only those really in need of charitable assistance shall 
 be admitted to the out-patient department, and those who are 
 able to provide medical aid for themselves shall be excluded, 
 
152 DR. ROBERTS LAW ON 
 
 I find that there are three methods 1. Limitation of 
 numbers ; 2. Payment as registration fee ; 3. Inspection. 
 
 1. Limitation of numbers admitted daily as out-patients. 
 In the first place the number must be determined, which would 
 not be easy, and when agreed upon the real difficulties of the 
 plan would remain to be met. This plan would necessarily 
 lead to a rush to be first, and the doors of a hospital would be 
 besieged much in the same way as the doors of a theatre when 
 a very popular piece is to be seen. Picture to yourself a crowd 
 of sick people pushing and jostling each other to be among the 
 magic number. What an edifying spectacle outside a hospital ! 
 Again, those who resided nearest the institution would have a 
 decided advantage over those at a distance and might not 
 require such immediate treatment, so that the worst cases 
 would have to depart until the next day. It would be a case 
 of the pool of Bethesda, except that the chance of those 
 disappointed would occur oftener. Some enterprising person 
 might erect, if the authorities would give permission, tents or 
 other like shelter where, at a charge, intending patients might 
 be accommodated with a night's lodging, and so be ready for 
 the next occasion. Lodgings in the vicinity of the hospital 
 would doubtless be at a premium. This has been tried for a 
 time at the Birmingham and Midland Hospital for Sick 
 Children, and the following is an extract from their report : 
 The limitation of tickets to thirty was soon given up, for the natural 
 result was that they fell to the lot of the strongest and rudest, and to 
 those who lived close to the doors of the hospital, so that a patient 
 coming from a distance might happen to be the thirty-first in order of 
 application, and no doubt frequently was in this predicament. It was 
 thought better to run other risks than to maintain so rude a limitation as 
 this. 
 
 This method must be put aside as absolutely impracticable. 
 Many present were probably interested by the newspaper 
 reports of a dog who sought relief at the Charing Cross 
 Hospital for its injuries; one of the surgeons stated that it 
 attended regularly. Now should this new class of out-patients 
 
HOSPITAL REFORM. 153 
 
 show any desire to emulate the lords of creation in their 
 attendance as out-patients, I think that limitation of their 
 numbers would be the only practical means to meet this 
 difficulty. 
 
 2. Payment of what is called a registration fee. This is 
 likely to bear with undue hardness, however small the sum 
 may be, on the very cases that have the first claim on a 
 charitable institution, and be no bar to those who have no right 
 to relief. To make such a system in any way just you would 
 require a sliding scale of fees regulated according to the 
 income, number in family, and many other considerations 
 which it would be indispensable accurately to ascertain. I 
 cannot see on what grounds anyone could be refused because 
 they enjoyed a good income, if they agreed to pay a propor- 
 tionately high registration fee. This has been tried at the 
 Birmingham hospital I mentioned, without in the long run 
 diminishing the numbers. One expedient after another had 
 failed to check the increase, and as a last resort the committee 
 required sixpence to be paid for each child on admission. For 
 a short time the check was effectual. From 18G7 to 1870 
 inclusive the number of out-patients each year was 9,500, 
 11,400, 12,900, 14,000. In 1871, with the institution of the 
 sixpenny registration fee, the numbers fell at once to just under 
 11,000, and, 9,500 in the following year (1872). The respite 
 was brief. The numbers rose again to 11,000, and as soon as 
 October, 1878, the committee instituted a further fee of six- 
 pence each child, to be paid from time to time, as a renewal of 
 tin- note. In spite of this repeated check the numbers rose to 
 12,000 in 1874, and to 14,400 and 14,700 the two succeeding 
 years, the increase still going on. Mr. Gamgee in his pamphlet 
 writes : 
 
 The charm in the idea of a free hospital is that its resources are 
 
 freely available to all sick and de-serving persons; but what becomes of 
 
 the ideal charm when the condition tacked on to a hearing of his woes is 
 
 that the poor sufferer shall put down a shilling on the counter ? So long 
 
 Tsons know that they will be received as patients at a hospital on 
 
154 DR. ROBERTS LAW ON 
 
 paying a shilling, and stating their earnings are below a certain standard, 
 it requires no stretch of the imagination to understand that a premium is 
 offered to improvidence and fraud. By such a system the hospital is made 
 a vast competitor against provident clubs, and the self-respect of the 
 working population is undermined by inducements to untruthfulness with 
 practical immunity from detection. 
 
 Under such circumstances the hospital becomes not only 
 a training school of pauperism, but of duplicity. Again its 
 hardness may be illustrated by the three following cases : 
 The first is that of a widow, 56 years of age, w T ho some 
 years previously was operated on for cancer. She had two 
 children, one a girl eleven years of age who went to school ; the 
 other, a 'boy aged 14, brought home 5s. 6d. a week. The poor 
 woman earned her livelihood as a charwoman, and when able 
 to work earned from 7s. 6d. to 8s. per week, so that at the 
 utmost, the sum of 13s. 6d. a week was available for the 
 maintenance of the family. But the poor woman had been so 
 ill the week before applying at the hospital that she only 
 earned 2s. 3d. in six days, so that 7s. 9d. was the sum avail- 
 able for rent and maintenance that week, and as she was 
 utterly disabled when she applied at the hospital, the laddie's 
 5s. Gd. a week was all that was left. Yet the woman had to 
 pay the shilling registration fee before she was admitted to see 
 the surgeon. The second case, a lad of eighteen, earning 19s. a 
 week at a brass foundry, applied at the hospital for treatment 
 and was registered on payment of a shilling. In the third case, 
 a man earning 26s. a week, and having a wife only to maintain, 
 was also accepted on payment of the shilling. Where is the 
 charity of treating the poor half-starved widow like the men 
 by taking a shilling from each as a condition precedent to 
 admission to hospital relief? How many widows are kept 
 away for want of a shilling ? How many improvident men 
 hasten to pay it ? I am aware that many advocate this 
 plan, but I hope and think I have shown its hardships 
 and drawbacks. I have no hesitation in condemning it 
 utterly. 
 
HOSPITAL REFORM. 155 
 
 3. Inspection. This commends itself to me as the most 
 practical. The committee of a hospital have their duties to 
 perform as trustees of public funds, and as such should spare 
 no effort to keep their hospital for deserving people and 
 rigidly exclude others. I must here say I am indebted to 
 Mr. W. J. Nixon, the able house governor of the London 
 Hospital, for much valuable information. I should be very 
 ungrateful did I not acknowledge here the great courtesy and 
 kindness with which he received me at a recent visit, also the 
 trouble and time he so freely gave me to explain and shew me 
 the system he has just adopted. I hope I may be able to 
 describe it with sufficient clearness to make it understood. 
 Applicants for relief as out-patients give their tickets to a 
 man who has been appointed as an inspector, who questions 
 them as to their means, &c. Should he, from the answers given 
 and other conditions, have reason to suspect they are not fit 
 persons for relief, he demands a reference before passing them 
 in the first time, from whom further inquiries are made, at the 
 same time warning them that he believes them to be able to 
 provide for their medical advice. Should such prove the case, 
 on their next visit, if they persist in their efforts to obtain 
 relief, they are referred to the committee, or rather the house 
 governor. No cases have been brought before him for decision 
 as many never returned, or if they did, finding they could not 
 accomplish their object, frankly admitted they could and 
 ought to pay a doctor. Mr. Nixon had not completed his 
 statistics of last year's work under this system, but he had no 
 hesitation in saying it had fulfilled his expectations. They 
 had followed out 700 cases, of which only a small proportion 
 \v'iv found unfit. Mr. Nixon was confident it had kept away 
 many who n.uld not submit to such examination, and the 
 number of out-patientej more particularly in tin 1 special 
 departments, had dri-ivas.-d during the year. A similar plan 
 has luM-n eanied out at Kind's College Hospital by the aid of 
 the Charity Organisation Society, with the result of a great 
 
156 DE. EGBERTS LAW ON 
 
 decrease in numbers, not so much by the results of the 
 inquiries when made, as by the fear of their being made. A 
 similar plan has been tried at the General Hospital of 
 Massachusets with excellent results. Dr. Fairlie Clarke 
 writes : 
 
 With the exception of accidents and cases of emergency all applicants 
 should pass before a competent officer, charged with the duty of 
 ascertaining that their position and circumstances are such as to entitle 
 them to charitable medical relief. Such an officer should be altogether 
 raised above the class of the applicants themselves. Difficulties, no 
 doubt, there would be, especially at first ; but if all the great hospitals 
 could be induced to act together I have no doubt a system could soon ba 
 devised which would act promptly and efficiently. 
 
 If the out-patient department of the large hospitals is to 
 be maintained, a safeguard such as this is absolutely necessary. 
 To abolish the department would be a loss to the deserving 
 poor as well as in the education of medical students. To 
 provide for those who can afford to pay something towards 
 medical relief the establishment of the provident dispensary is 
 undoubtedly the most feasible. It has bean suggested that 
 the present free dispensaries should be made provident ones 
 and others formed as may be required. In a report of the 
 Charity Organisation Society it is stated : 
 
 The need is the machinery for bringing payment for doctorhig 
 within the reach of the poorer classes, and this can be done by the 
 establishment of provident dispensaries, as is shown by their success in 
 many towns. By small weekly contributions to these institutions 
 the working classes are enabled to pay the cost of their own msdical 
 attendance and medicine, and are thus able to avoid the humiliating 
 position of becoming recipients of public charity whenever they are out 
 of health. Any change in this direction seems to us hopeless until 
 provident dispensaries are provided. 
 
 I may quote a scale of monthly payments : 
 
 Each person above sixteen 8cl. 
 
 Man and wife lOd. 
 
 Each child (up to three) 2d. ' 
 
 Widows 4d. 
 
 Each child of a widow (up to three) Id. 
 
HOSPITAL REFORM. 157 
 
 All must be paid in advance. I have not time to give the 
 rules that would be necessary. I need not do more than 
 indicate the means for those who desire and can pay. 
 
 Another question much discussed at present is that of pay 
 hospitals, two or three being already established. As separate 
 hospitals I do not object to them they are doubtless a boon to 
 many ; but to turn our voluntary hospitals into part pay and 
 part charitable is an anomaly. Because the managing body 
 of St. Thomas' have chosen to cripple themselves by reckless 
 expenditure in bricks and mortar, they appeal to the public 
 for increased funds on the one hand, and on the other receive 
 people who pay from 1 Is. a week and upwards. It is 
 trying to perform the supposedly difficult feat of running with 
 the hare and hunting with the hounds. It must not be over- 
 looked that the voluntary hospitals are the corner stone of 
 th- medical education of this country, and free from any State 
 aid. To introduce paying patients to these hospitals would, in 
 my opinion, go a long way towards their destruction as 
 educational centres, and would necessitate the foundation of 
 State hospitals, as in Germany and France. 
 
 This paper has grown longer than I originally intended. 
 In conclusion I can only say that I have endeavoured to 
 place before you what might be done to render our hospitals 
 more useful to those whose misfortunes, and not their faults, 
 compel them to seek medical aid and assistance within their 
 walls. 
 
 February nth, 1885. 
 
" Women and the State" 
 
 By MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER. 
 
 HAVE undertaken to speak to you this evening 
 upon a subject which more or less occupies 
 the minds of all thoughtful people. I must, 
 however, preface what I have to say by the 
 declaration that I do not myself believe in the extreme 
 doctrines of that movement which is vulgarly connected 
 with the term " Women's Rights," if it aspires to place 
 men in the position which women now hold ; if it means 
 the seizure of the whole of the educational endowments of 
 this country for the advantage of women ; if men are to 
 have no protection against the prodigality of their wives ; 
 if men are to attend to their babies, do the housework, as 
 well as a long day's work ; if men are to be so badly 
 paid, for we all know the song of the shirt, that even by 
 inhuman labour they can hardly purchase the luxury of 
 necessary clothing; if they are to be taxed as large property 
 holders, and yet have no representation. These things are 
 surely extremes, and they are to be avoided. But putting 
 these exaggerated aspirations aside, I must confess that I 
 do believe to a large extent in placing women more on 
 an equality, both political and social, than they are at 
 pivs'iit witli men, because such a course of action, I am 
 fully persuaded, would tend to the removal of much of the 
 revolutionary discontent, both moral and social, which is 
 prevalent among us. The subject is as delicate as it is 
 difficult to handle, because of its radical tendencies, because 
 it touches upon the vested prescriptive rights of a dominant 
 class founded upon sentiment rather than reason. I shall 
 
160 MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 endeavour then, necessarily in a fragmentary and crude 
 manner, from the limited time at my disposal, to open the 
 discussion this evening in which Mrs. Shearer,* so widely 
 known for her eloquent advocacy of the question before us, 
 will take part, and knowing the moderation of her views, I 
 do not fear to take for my motto that beautiful Hungarian 
 myth which says : 
 
 Woman was not taken from man's heel, that he might know 
 that he was not to trample on her, nor from his head, for she 
 was not to rule over him, but from the rib next to his heart, that 
 she might be nearest and most necessary his equal in every action 
 of his life. 
 
 First of all, however, to gain the respectful attention of 
 those who are utterly opposed to this movement, or who 
 have never given it a thought but of ridicule, I would state 
 after the manner of the preaching friar, who exhibits his 
 relics, his piece of clotted blood, or fragment of hair, that 
 five members of the last Government and a large proportion 
 of the Houses of Parliament were in favour of the suffrage 
 movement, and consequently, arguing a priori, of the new 
 course of training, of higher education, and enfranchisement 
 for women from the close trammels of the law. I am, 
 however, in a better position than the preaching friar, for I 
 can point, not like him, to relics and late members, but to 
 living witnesses, for six members of the present Government 
 have expressed their opinion in favour of enfranchisement. 
 I just state this because a great many people believe that 
 this movement is exceedingly phemeral and hardly worthy 
 of the attention of themselves that is to say, the only 
 sensible people in the world. Those, however, w r ho argue 
 from precedent, and take a historical view of the subject, 
 not remembering the vast strides of modern civilization, 
 have some grounds for their charge of ephemeralism, for the 
 more one investigates the history of opinion and accumulates 
 
 * Since this was written, Mrs. Shearer has died in New Zealand, where she had 
 gone for the sake of her health. 
 
WOMEN AND THE STATE. 101 
 
 knowledge, the more one is inclined to believe that no 
 movement is altogether new, nor that any opinion is 
 altogether new that is to say that in this cry of higher 
 culture for women and higher political rights history has 
 repeated herself. But it does not follow that because the 
 agitation is thousands of years old, and that it has always 
 arisen daring the decadence of a nation, or when a great 
 wave of deceitful immorality is sweeping over it, that the 
 answer to the cry for equality should be always in the 
 negative. That ought to depend to a very large extent 
 .upon the condition and culture of the civilized time. This 
 cry for equality never gained for the women direct advantage; 
 it has either subjected them, like the free women of Athens, 
 to almost total obscurity, men saying, like Mr. Matthew 
 Arnold of to-day, that the world is too corrupt, too rough, 
 for such angelic and tender creatures as women to mingle 
 in ; or it has forced them into irregularities of conduct not 
 able to be controlled in consequence of the moral carelessness 
 of the time. People point to Aspasia, the companion and 
 mistress of Pericles, the teacher of Socrates, to the grand 
 but guilty and tragic figures of the Medea, the Phoedra, the 
 Clytemnestra, as to what the majority of women might be if 
 equality were given to them ; but I venture to say that this 
 is just what they would not be if justice were given them. 
 The Greek dramatists have cast a halo of purity and noble 
 conduct round the names of these women, which no more 
 legitimately belongs to them than to those women who in 
 the polite language of the day people say are no better 
 than they ought to be. Rome, after transferring to Italy 
 the treasures of Greece, fell and became subject to barbarians, 
 and the great empire was carved out among the Goths, 
 Franks, Burgundians, from whom have sprung the Romance 
 nations, the nations of modem Europe. The ferocity of 
 tin- invaders was tempered by the corrupt civilization of 
 the age, and they adopted to a very large extent the 
 
 M 
 
162 MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 usages and institutions of the empire, working them into 
 their rude customs and constitutions 
 
 Those wild men's vices they received, 
 
 And gave them back their own. 
 
 In all rude times physical force is the conquering power. 
 All who could not fight, or whom custom forbade to fight, 
 were rated as baggage and camp followers, and so the 
 subjection of women among the barbarians was sanctioned 
 by the civilization of Rome. Thus barbarism and 
 civilization joined in selfish care to force one half of the 
 human race in slavish obedience to the other. That 
 subjection has never been questioned by any body of 
 women in collective voice from that time until within 
 the last thirty years, when it has been questioned in 
 the capital of the world, as 1,800 years ago it was 
 also questioned, in the capital of the world. Physical 
 force generally goes over to the other side before slavery is 
 abolished. Such has generally been the case in all the 
 great fights against the tyranny of man over man, but in 
 times of lofty civilization, or those times which are named 
 and lauded as such, physical force is to a large extent laid 
 aside and intellectual force takes its place, and then it is 
 that women, despising physical force, because it despises 
 itself, strive to get to the top and act independently. I 
 do not know whether any of you know Froude's fable of 
 the lions and the oxen at any rate I will tell it to you 
 and you can draw your own moral. The moral is very 
 applicable in my opinion to the present state of affairs 
 between men and women, not only in this country, but 
 especially in France among continental countries 
 
 Once upon a time a number of cattle came out of the desert to 
 settle in the broad meadows by a river. They were poor and wretched, 
 and they found it a pleasant exchange, except for a number of lions, who 
 lived in the mountains near, and who claimed a right, in consideration of 
 permitting the cattle to remain, to eat as many as they wanted among 
 them. The cattle submitted, partly because they were too weak to help 
 
it, partly because the lions said it was the will of Jupiter, and the cattle 
 believed them. And so they went on for many ages, till at last, from 
 better feeding, the cattle grew larger and stronger, and multiplied into 
 great numbers ; and at the same time, from other causes, the lions had 
 much diminished they were fewer, smaller, and meaner-looking than 
 they had been, and, except in their own opinion of themselves and in 
 their appetites, which were more enormous than ever, there was nothing 
 of the old lion left in them. 
 
 One day a large ox was quietly grazing, when one of these lions 
 came up and desired the ox to lie down, for he wanted to eat him. The 
 ox raised his head, and gravely protested; the lion growled; the ox was 
 mild, yet firm. The lion insisted upon his legal right, and they agreed to 
 refer the matter to Minos. 
 
 When they came into court, the lion accused the ox of having 
 broken the laws of the beasts. The lion was king, and the others were 
 bound to obey. Prescriptive usage was clearly on the lion's side. Minos 
 called on the ox for his defence. 
 
 The ox said that, without consent of his own being asked, he had 
 been born into the meadow. He did not consider himself much of a 
 beast, but, such as he was, he was very happy, and gave Jupiter thanks. 
 Nw, if the lion could show that the existence of lions was of more 
 importance than that of oxen in the eyes of Jupiter, he had nothing more 
 to say, he was ready to sacrifice himself. But this lion had already eaten 
 a thousand oxen. Lions' appetites were so insatiable that he was forced 
 to ask whether they were really worth what was done for them whether 
 the life of one lion was so noble that the lives of thousands of oxen were 
 not equal to it '. He was ready to own that lions had always eaten oxen, 
 but lions when they first came to the meadow were a different sort of 
 rival ure, and they themselves, too (and the ox looked complacently at 
 himself), had improved since that time. Judging by appearances, though 
 they might be fallacious, he himself was quite as good a beast as the lion. 
 If the lions would load lives more noble than oxen could live, once more 
 he wmlil ii'M complain. As it was, he submitted that the cost was too great. 
 
 Then the lion put on a grand face and tried to roar; but when he 
 his mouth he disclosed a jaw so drearily furnished that Minos 
 l. and told the ox it was his .\vn fault if he let himself be eaten by 
 .such a beast as that. If he persisted in declining, he did not think tin- 
 lion would force him. 
 
 Tin- social and political position of women at the 
 present moment seems eminently one of discontent, though 
 
104 MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 secret from pride for the most part, and this remark is 
 specially applicable to the high middle class and nobility. 
 It is all very well for Lord Beaconsfield to say with a 
 laugh on his face that women are the only people who get 
 on, and that a woman has only to dance at a ball with 
 some young fellow, or sit next to some old one at a dinner 
 and pretend that she thinks him charming, and he gives 
 her a coronet, which a man can only obtain when he has 
 worked all his life, and thinks that he has done a wonderful 
 thing if he gets it then with no hair on his head and one 
 foot in the grave. And from what great cause in this age 
 of progress and civilization does this discontent among 
 women spring ? Simply from the fact that women are 
 brought up with one ambition in life, and that is to marry, 
 and such a prospect is rapidly closing to a large proportion 
 of the women of England. John Stuart Mill, one of the 
 greatest original thinkers in these latter days, and a great 
 supporter of placing women on an equality with men under 
 the law, says 
 
 Marriage is the destiny appointed by society for women, the 
 prospect they are brought up to, and the object which it is intended 
 should be sought by all of them, except those who are too little attractive 
 to be chosen by any man as his companion. 
 
 That destiny is naturally a true one, and the old Romans 
 knew it, for they always represent the Venus Felix with a 
 child in her arms. But this destiny is not possible for all 
 women indeed, proportionately speaking, in the present 
 state of affairs for very few, and there is nothing, after 
 disease, indigence, and guilt so fatal to the pleasurable 
 enjoyment of life as the want of a worthy outlet for the 
 active faculties. Women have the cares of a family, 
 and while they have cares of the family have this outlet, 
 and it generally suffices for them ; but what, cries Mill, of 
 the greatly increasing number of women, who have had no 
 opportunity of exercising the vocation which they are 
 
WOMEN AND THE STATE. 165 
 
 mocked by telling them is their proper one ? If this terrible 
 decrease in the marriage rate is true, as a comparison of 
 the census returns for the last twenty years shows, it is 
 only good for the well-being of the State, it is only just to 
 the female population, that restrictions should be taken 
 away and employment thrown open to them, but such 
 employment should only be allowed under the law as will 
 not unsex them, though I think that female good taste and 
 natural inclination to sedentary work will not require the 
 aid of the law in this direction. I do not mean to say 
 that the higher culture of women and opening of employ- 
 ment to them is to be looked at for one moment as a 
 2>is ((ller for marriage, but I do believe that the great 
 decrease of marriage in proportion to the population of our 
 upper classes has given an impulse to the thoughts of 
 thinking women and men in this direction, which it would 
 never have received if that destiny of marriage had not 
 within these last twenty years proved so fallacious. The 
 state of society in England and in France has closed that 
 destiny, as it was closed to the women of Rome in the 
 time of the patriot Cato and the rulers of the Republic; in 
 fact the time has come round again, and the times have 
 forced it upon us, that we should reconsider if this slavery 
 of women to one object in life is at all natural, is at all 
 just, and whether, therefore, it is not a great fomentor of 
 mural and physical evil in the world. Suppose, however, 
 for an instant that the men of Rome had yielded to the 
 claims of their women for equality under the law, do you 
 not think that such an infusion of "angelic purity" (let us 
 make use of the enemy's words) into the moral putrefaction 
 around would not have exercised an enormous influence 
 over the future of Rome? Do you not think that it would 
 have saved the disintegration of the empire? Do you not 
 think that so enormous a change in the economy of Nature 
 would not have produce* I as great an effect upon the purity 
 
166 MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 and civilization of the world as great as Christianity itself, 
 for if corruption had been stayed, Christianity would never 
 have been preached by St. Paul at Rome ? 
 
 If we reject this cry from women for justice, we, that is 
 the English people, will be more in the wrong than the people 
 of antiquity, because by the constitution of things they 
 believed that some men were born free and some slaves, and 
 that every man was born to a fixed social position; but it is the 
 boast of England that directly a slave, of whatever nationality 
 he may be, sets his foot upon English soil, his shackles drop 
 from him ; we also boast that no man's birth shall hang like a 
 millstone round his neck, and we are proud even of a man, an 
 alien by birth, like Benjamin Disraeli, who seizes the highest 
 power in the State over the heads of nobles, by self-exertion. 
 But this same nation, which vaunts itself in its freedom and 
 its liberal principles, sets its foot upon the neck of the so-called 
 physically weaker part of its race, and will not budge an inch. 
 And what is the great national clog which prevents this great 
 revolution in the cycle of freedom ? Gentlemen, the answer 
 we get on all sides, from all classes, is this and this alone 
 -" Because it has always been so." If, however, you will 
 remember, this dogma was the great weapon in its infancy 
 against the religion which you profess, against the clothes 
 which you wear, against the knowledge which has raised you 
 from brutes to the power which makes you God-like, against 
 the modernised comforts of this room, against the existence of 
 the Athenseum itself. A good manufacturer in the north of 
 England was not contented alone with making profit out of 
 the men and women who worked day after day in his factories, 
 but looked also to their physical and moral health. He built 
 large commodious baths for them. The factory hands were 
 very timid of the water at first, as they say most Lancashire 
 people are, but they overcame slowly their reluctance to wash, 
 except one man of mind. To this man all kinds of arguments 
 were used but were of no avail, for his answer was in his 
 
WOMEN AND THE STATE. 167 
 
 brain like a bee buzzing, and it was this " My grandfather 
 and my father never -washed, and neither shall I." So say 
 many other dirty fellows in analogous words and object to 
 the moral washing of society. I do not think that any of us 
 have been, like Leibnitz's Tarquin, into the council chamber of 
 Nature, but it requires no supernatural knowledge to form a 
 fair judgment how an unemployed and discontented class, with 
 great and subtle influence, will act upon the future of the 
 nation. Rome did not apply the remedy which was at 
 hand and even offered itself, but rejected it with contumely 
 and laughter, and women were during her last days no 
 longer contented slaves, but discontented. They were in a 
 worse position even than the man slave, because they were 
 dependent, because unemployed, because they had not even 
 the unfettered liberty to work at what they liked, 110 matter 
 how fitted by intellectual training for such work. In 
 England now the same law which applies to the man does, 
 in a harsher degree, to the woman. She suffers under 
 the law, but still she is not counted as a citizen. The 
 woman's property is ipso facto the husband's, and he can 
 take away her children if he chooses, with the sanction of 
 the law. To say, as Rosseau does, that all the education 
 of women ought to be relative to men to please them, to 
 be useful to them, to make themselves loved by them, to 
 bring them up when they are little, to care for them when 
 they are grown up, to counsel them, to console them, to 
 render their lives agreeable and pleasant, such have 
 been the duties of women in all times seems to me a 
 mockery in the present state of affairs, and is quite enough 
 to make the female class discontented. Mr. Gladstone, in 
 the course of his rectorial address to Glasgow University, 
 remarked 
 
 The heavy mass of idlers among our rich men, though not reckoned 
 statistically among our dangerous classes, yet are in truth a class both 
 mischievous and dangerous to the intellectual and moral vigour of society, 
 and even to the institutions of the country. 
 
168 MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 For these loose men the women are, to a large extent, 
 responsible, and often the original cause of their looseness. 
 But still the nation as a body, knowing this, is unwilling 
 to apply the remedy to this great danger by giving to 
 women the power to work out other destinies for them- 
 selves, independent of men, now that the original and 
 ancient one fixed by man is inadequate to their needs. 
 Women have only been allowed, by the custom of mankind, 
 to participate a very short time in semi-public life, and 
 yet, even in this babyhood period, if I may so call it, they 
 have become famous in arts, literature, and science; and it 
 is impossible to say for what business women are unfitted, 
 because the state in which most live, and have lived, is an 
 eminently artificial one. Their training and dress tend 
 to weaken their physique, but we do know that women 
 perform, to the great satisfaction of employers, work both 
 in insurance offices and telegraph offices; they work in 
 factories ; they work in the fields during the broiling heat of 
 summer. Are these signs of a naturally feeble physique ? 
 It is not Nature which makes women weak, but lungs 
 and heart distorted from their proper places by a machinery 
 of whalebone and cordage ! Supplement this with want 
 of exercise and dawdling days, and here you have the 
 cause of physical debility. I speak not of sensible women, 
 but of the vast mass who do nothing except to think of 
 dress and themselves, and I can assure sensible women 
 that they will have all their work cut out to educate their 
 party. Lady Harberton, writing in Frasers Magazine, 
 says I forget the exact words that the girls at Girton 
 cannot read in tight stays, for they stop the free passage of 
 the blood from the heart to the brain, which needs full nourish- 
 ment to perform its proper work. Ladies and gentlemen, 
 have you never thought that women who wear high 
 heeled boots, showing thereby their scorn of pain and want of 
 equilibrium of character, put themselves on an equality with 
 
WOMEN AND THE STATE. 169 
 
 the Chinawoman's deformed toes, and enter into noble rivalry 
 with the Esquimaux woman who hollows out a hole in each 
 of her cheeks and inserts therein a stone ornament, or with 
 the Cochin Chinese women who desire and love blackened 
 perforated teeth ? All are fashions, and all are derogatory 
 to beauty, and decidedly the barbaric method of the despised 
 Esquimaux and Cochin Chinese is less injurious to health 
 than that of the fashionable Englishwoman. Women are 
 born slaves under the law, and this initium given goes far 
 to make them slaves to fashion and conventionalism. It is 
 well known that races who live in a kind of ready-made 
 land near the tropics are commonly degenerate. As the 
 negro expects his melon and tobacco without labour, so 
 also women are brought up to expect a ready-made home 
 without exertion, at least manual exertion, and consequently 
 their tone is generally lower than men, because they are 
 brought up with dependent small aims and minds. 
 Such a state of mind and body must have evil effect 
 upon the race, for not only are physical qualities inherited 
 by children, but also moral and intellectual. But for this 
 state of things the law of the land and the men of this 
 nation are responsible ; to laugh at such foolish, injurious 
 habits is to add insult to injury. I say, then, for this general 
 condition of women the law of the land and the dependent 
 place in society allotted to women by men are responsible. 
 l!n\v are we to remedy it ? With deliberation I say it. 
 Say '' You are free : " Throw open the public offices; throw 
 open everything to them ; and as to that vexed question 
 of admitting women to Parliament, I will only make this 
 observation that you may depend upon it the first woman 
 who sits in Parliament and overcomes all the difficulties 
 and prejudices, both natural and artificial, that will be 
 tliioNvn in her path, will be well worth her salt, and will 
 add honour to the Commons' House and lustrous wisdom 
 to the Councils of the Sovereign. For me to shirk from 
 
170 MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 saying this would be illogical,, and it will be illogical of the 
 nation not to act up to their past decision, since women 
 are now entitled to vote and decide on municipal and 
 school board matters, to represent the political units which 
 help to make the sum, the house of representatives at 
 Westminster. So much for the general aspect of the 
 question. Now I will dwell very practically, and in as short 
 a manner as possible, on some other questions which are 
 intimately connected with this important matter the 
 question of education the greater and more beneficial 
 influence of women arising from a freer and nobler position 
 in the State, and in the family life. 
 
 Some ingenuous and candid critic objects that women 
 ought first to be educated and fitted for high offices before 
 they lay claim to them that every woman ought to be 
 highly cultured before she should look for employments now 
 only open to men, and be not merely contented with the 
 marriage prospect. But, my ingenuous and candid block- 
 head, would you invest your money in speculation 
 which is bound to give no return? If you would not, 
 on the same sensible principle, neither will the father 
 give his daughter an education equivalent in depth to his 
 son, unless he can see a career before her worthy of that 
 education, and that will give her a return in independence. 
 Until high employments are thrown open to women of the 
 upper class, as manual and coarser employments have been 
 opened to the women of the lower class, the two women's 
 colleges at Oxford and Cambridge will never be overcrowded. 
 Even if the prejudice of the people persists in denying 
 w r omen the right of contending for public prizes, this principle 
 of the higher education of women ought to be extended for 
 the sake of its beneficent influence upon family life, and to 
 give women greater influence in the training and future of 
 the family, especially the boys of the family. People complain 
 of the revolt of the younger generation against the authority 
 
WOMEN AND THE STATE. 171 
 
 of the elder, but they must remember that this is an age 
 in which personal assumption carries little weight unless it 
 is backed by abilities and acquirements worthy of the place 
 assumed. It is not an age of sentiment, but an age of hard 
 and merciless logic. The boys of the family are emancipated 
 earlier, and greater freedom is given them than heretofore. 
 To cope with that increased power and vitality on the 
 children's part, the woman ought also to have higher training 
 and character, or else she will be looked upon as a usurper, 
 and comparatively ignored. This state of things, this incapacity 
 of women to govern children and to share in the aspirations 
 of men, is a great impulse to the immorality of the time, 
 for the influence of the woman in the family is inestimable, 
 and when it is not exerted for good or lies dormant inevitably 
 tends to evil. Before, however, girls can receive as good an 
 education as boys, great changes must be made in the system 
 of public schools in England, especially in the living away 
 from home at boarding schools. Such a life is not natural, 
 and the family life has been superseded by something very 
 artificial in this way. At these great schools, from the large 
 numbers present, instruction is given rather than education, 
 education which means not only the training of the mental 
 .Hid physical powers, but the moral qualities as well. If the 
 women agitators gain their point, I have no doubt that some 
 gn.'fit change will be effected, and high-class Government 
 schools, both for boys and girls, will be found in all our 
 large centres of population and smaller towns, taught by 
 first-class men and women from both Universities. Doubtless 
 a great outcry will be raised at so radical an endeavour to 
 overturn the boarding-out system, but in Germany, where it 
 is allowed by specialists that the people are best educated, 
 both of the higher and lower classes, not a single boy is 
 receive* 1 into a school as a boarder. In England too there 
 U vjvut dissatisfaction at the acquirements of boarding school 
 mistresses, who very often are quite unfit to overlook their 
 
172 MR. JOHN ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 schools and decide whether their visiting masters are 
 teaching right or wrong. At any rate it is very certain 
 that if girls are to receive an education of as high a quality 
 as boys, that of the latter must be cheapened, and that of 
 the former placed on a footing with the public school system, 
 and not one merely of accomplishments. 
 
 Everyone admits who knows anything about the matter 
 that within the last few years the education of women has 
 done a great deal to make home life more comfortable and 
 the arrangements of domestic affairs more perfect. Those 
 who say the opposite, and there are many of them, but I 
 do not think it worth my while to combat them here, must 
 also say on the same principle that an ignorant sensible 
 woman is more to be preferred than an intellectual sensible 
 woman. The same faculties of trained perception and quick 
 intelligence bear as great fruit in the family life as in any 
 other vocation, and more so because the proper uprearing 
 of children and their perfect training is the most important 
 function in the world, for upon it depends the fate of 
 the race. There are two anecdotes recorded by Madame de 
 Stael concerning the Emperor Napoleon, exhibiting even in 
 a great man childish prejudice 
 
 Madame Sophie Gaze was a friend of Pauline Borghese, at whose 
 house at Aix la Chapelle she met the Emperor. He addressed her 
 roughly : " Madame, my sister has told you that I do not like in- 
 tellectual women." "Yes, sire," was her reply, " but I did not believe 
 her." The Emperor looked surprised and tried again. " You write, do you 
 not? What have you produced since you have been in this country V 
 "Three children, sire," was the curt reply. He asked 110 more. 
 This woman certainly did not rate her intellectual acquire- 
 ments above her domestic duties, and ten to one through those 
 acquirements she was able to perform those duties better. The 
 other anecdote which Madame de Stael relates is this 
 
 I saw the Emperor one day approach a French lady, well known 
 for her beauty, her intelligence, and the vivacity of her opinions. He 
 placed himself before her, like the stitfest of German Generals, and said, 
 "Madame, I don't approve of women meddling in politics." "You are 
 
WOMEN AND THE STATE. 173 
 
 right, General," she replied, "but in a country where their heads are 
 cut off, it is but natural that they should like to know why." 
 
 And so, for a like reason, the women of this country who 
 pay taxes would like to have some voice in their 
 distribution. 
 
 To sum up, then, there are two classes of people who are 
 agitating in the endeavour to free women from degrading and 
 illegal bondage. Firstly, those who are working for the 
 benefit of the world at large to free women for all time from 
 bondage, and these are more thorough than the second class, 
 and have great likelihood of success, for in the great land 
 of the future, in America, their tenets are rapidly making 
 headway. Provisions have already bean made both in old 
 and new states of the confederacy, whereby an equality of 
 right about property is given to women, and in more than 
 one they have received enfranchisement. Secondly, those 
 who are not so thoroughgoing, and wish by throwing 
 open some inferior employments and offering small civil 
 rights as a pis alter for marriage, to remove the social 
 discontent among women. Such a course of action will 
 only relieve for a time and then aggravate the discontent. 
 To this class belong those ladies who are wiser than their 
 sisters, and who advocate emigration for women, such 
 as Mrs. Blanchard and the Princess Louise, Marchioness of 
 Lome, the latter saying that there is a wide field for 
 unemployed female interest in the North West Territory. 
 Males, capable and incapable, have at present too much 
 their own way, and such a female tonic of independent 
 competition would act admirably on the deteriorating in- 
 fluence of civilization. I know of many creatures at present 
 walking this earth who have no claim upon the suffrages 
 of manhood, with the exception of being bom male. 
 
 Subsidiary schemes are good in their way, but will not 
 affect in the future the position of women unless unjust laws 
 can be repealed, unless women are allowed to lead natural 
 
174 WOMEN AND THE STATE. 
 
 lives, unless women are allowed without fetters to enter into 
 honourable rivalry with men. If this is done and equality 
 of the sexes is attained and practised, then I say for one 
 let the weaker go to the wall, as the strong man in the 
 race of life pushes aside his equally free but weaker 
 opponent. Nothing in the analogy of Nature, nothing in 
 the government of the Supreme Being, the giver of free-will 
 among mankind, can justify by the mere accident of birth 
 the subjection of one human being to the will of another. 
 This thing ought not to be, and to sweep it aw-ay will 
 relieve an immense amount of human wretchedness and 
 degradation in the world, and effect a change of manners 
 and improvement in morals never equalled since the 
 Reformation. 
 
 May 15th, 1882. 
 
The Study of Local History and 
 Antiquities^ 
 
 By MR. W. LINDSAY, 
 
 HAT which is old has a peculiar fascination for 
 many minds apart from its own merits. Old 
 buildings, even though ugly in themselves, 
 become venerable and beautiful from the action 
 of the storm and sunshine of centuries. Schiller well expresses 
 the sentiment when he says 
 
 Time doth consecrate, 
 
 And that which is grey with age becomes religion. 
 But apart from this feeling (which some may regard as 
 superstitious and sentimental) the study of antiquities has 
 much to attract us. It includes almost everything which 
 throws light on man's past history ; his laws, customs, 
 language, as well as his temples, tombs, houses, implements, 
 tools, ornaments. Goethe said of life, " Strike into it 
 anywhere, and you will find it powerful and interesting." So 
 we may say of antiquarian study, " Strike into it anywhere, 
 and you will nearly always find a thread which will lead 
 you, if you will follow it, to large and instructive results." 
 It introduces us to a new world and enlarges our 
 acquaintance, opens up a vast field extending to regions of 
 varied and frequently curious learning. Each may take his 
 own line and follow his own tastes. As I have seen it 
 somewhere quaintly said- 
 Each like a bee may select his own flower in Time's garden, and 
 leaving no spot unransacked, accumulated wealth is brought to the 
 common store. 
 
176 MR. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 The study of local history and antiquities has made 
 great progress in the present generation. In former days 
 a museum of antiquities was looked upon as a kind 
 of " chamber of horrors," and the antiquarian as a queer 
 unintelligible being. His pursuits met with much ridicule, 
 and were regarded as harmless trifling. He was supposed 
 to dote upon things merely because they were old, and 
 Pope represented the spirit of his day when he wrote 
 With sharpened sight pale antiquaries pore, 
 The inscription value, but the rust adore ! 
 
 Some divided them into classes, those who deceived 
 themselves and those who deceived others, a polite way 
 of saying they were fools or knaves. Then came the 
 " go-ahead " nineteenth century, the age of steara and 
 railways, when the demon of improvement was sweeping 
 away and demolishing all relics and monuments of the past 
 which stood in the way, and men still despised antiquarian 
 studies ; they thought that excessive sympathy with the 
 past meant bidding adieu to the present, and that the living 
 present was of infinitely more value than the dead past. 
 Contemners of the past said, " Why trouble ourselves about 
 those old times ? The Saxons and Normans were robbers and 
 pirates." Mr. Buckle said in his History of Civilization 
 
 In those bad days everybody was a priest or a soldier, and as a 
 natural consequence everything of real importance was neglected. As 
 for manners they had none, and their customs were altogether beastly. 
 
 " What connection can there be," said they, " between 
 mediaeval barbarism and our complicated civilization " ? "A 
 page of the Times" said Mr. Cobden, " is worth all the 
 works of Thucydides." But a reaction has set in. The 
 past has become dearer to us since we ran no small risk of 
 parting company with it altogether. The study of antiquit\ T 
 has lately acquired a new popularity. A love for what is 
 old, venerable, and beautiful, and a desire to cherish and 
 preserve the memorials of the past has sprung up, and a 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 177 
 
 feeling that it is no small advantage to us in our matter- 
 of-fact days to betake ourselves from the prose of the 
 present to the poetry of the past. And this new 
 popularity is not merely confined to those old-fashioned 
 people who hate the present and despair of the future, but 
 has extended to those who have a real belief in progress, 
 but who know by experience that sound, healthy, and 
 enduring progress must be built on the solid foundations of 
 that which has gone before. Professor Stubbs says 
 
 The roots of the present lie deep in the past, and nothing in 
 the past is dead to the man who would learn how the present came 
 to be what it is. 
 
 What our ancestors have sown for us we reap, and we 
 will find it is the spirit of the dead that practically to a great 
 extent governs the earth. It is to their lives and examples, 
 to their struggles and sufferings, we owe the condition of 
 things in which we live. It is the task of the antiquary 
 to trace the gradual modifications by which things, ideas, 
 and institutions have come down to us, by means of a close 
 comparison of relics with records, to trace out the manners 
 and customs of people of a past age, illustrating their mode 
 of life, form of religion, the state of their laws, their legends 
 and traditions, their language and their deeds, and their 
 artistic skill. By means of his careful researches he is 
 enabled to clear up doubts as to dates, by .shewing how to 
 reject questionable documents, even by such apparently 
 unimportant labours as deciphering or illustrating inscrip- 
 tions, and by tracing old brasses (or even the form of a 
 letter or the shape of an ornament or a weapon), he 
 throws light on obscure points of history and assists in 
 dcti-rmining questions not otherwise satisfactorily settled. 
 Thus the pursuit, first taken up for amusement, may be 
 mado to serve the cause of truth. By thus studying man's 
 history, his progress, and the rise of his institutions not by 
 doting upon what is old merely because it is old, not by 
 
 N 
 
178 MR. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 merely collecting curiosities without appreciating them the 
 archeologist investigates the past so as to illuminate the 
 present and guide us for the future. With such a purpose 
 and such high aims the study of antiquity is cleared of the 
 charge of unprofitable trifling formerly attached to it ; that 
 which was taken up as the pursuit of amateurs becomes 
 the study of practical thinkers and scholars, and becomes 
 elevated to the dignity of a science. And the science of 
 archeology has already passed the stage of its infancy, with 
 its early trips and stumbles, and now walks with firm foot 
 among its sister sciences. In our own day a flood of new 
 light has burst upon the world, and the storehouses of 
 record throughout all Europe, as well as England, are 
 revealing buried treasures. 
 
 Numerous county societies have been formed all over 
 England, whose journals and records afford valuable contri- 
 butions to English history, by furnishing fuller and more 
 complete details. Attention has been drawn to the 
 antiquities worthy of notice in all parts of the country, 
 and there are few churches, abbeys, castles, country houses, 
 cromlechs, encampments, and barrows, whose treasures have 
 not been sought out, made known, and cared for, thanks to 
 the love of antiquarian study, first made fashionable by one 
 whom we may regard with neighbourly interest Horace 
 Walpole, the founder of Strawberry Hill. The way is thus 
 made comparatively easy for us, although much yet remains 
 to be done. What with the excellent handbooks of Mr. 
 Murray, improved hotels, and with the facilities afforded 
 by much abused railways, we do not suffer as did Horace 
 Walpole, the first of modern tourists, who complains of 
 " frequent upsets in the deep miry Sussex roads, great 
 quenchers of curiosity, piteous distresses, and bedchambers 
 stinking of tobacco like a justice of the peace." 
 
 There is no district in England without its interest. 
 Fuller quaintly says 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 179 
 
 Some shires, like Joseph, have a better coloured coat than others, 
 and some with Benjamin have a more bountiful messe of meat belonging 
 to tli em yet every county hath a child's portion. 
 
 It is an old complaint against Englishmen that they 
 know little of their own country. One of the characters 
 in an old play is made to say 
 
 I'll see these things ! They're rare and passing curious. 
 
 But thus 'tis ever : What's within our ken, 
 
 Owl-like we blink at, and direct our search 
 
 To furthest Inde in quest of novelties 
 
 Whilst here at home upon our very thresholds 
 
 Ten thousand objects hurtle into view, 
 
 Of interest wonderful. 
 
 More than 250 years ago, when anyone came to the 
 Lords of the Council for a license to travel abroad, such as 
 was then necessary, Lord Burleigh " would examine him of 
 England, and if he found him ignorant would bid him 
 stay at home and know that countiy first " and Peacham 
 says in The Cow/pleat Gentlemen (published 1822) of English 
 travellers abroad 
 
 While they are curious in the observation and search of the most 
 memorable things and monuments of other places they can say nothing 
 of their own, our country of England being no whit inferior to any other 
 in the world for matter of antiquity and varieties of every kind worthy 
 remark and admiration. 
 
 Without denying the pleasures and advantages of foreign 
 travel, without denying that to see certain classes of grander 
 and more sublime scenery or cathedrals and altar pieces 
 on the grandest scale we must go out of England, still many 
 a traveller who is hurried through Swiss defiles and Tyrolean 
 pa--es, the Black Forest and the valleys of the Vosges, would 
 obtain as much enjoyment and see as much that would be 
 new to him and Hud himself in a less beaten track in some 
 such route as the Sussex Downs full of romantic nooks and 
 968, and rich in antiquarian relics; or in the wild districts 
 of the Derbyshire hills and Yorkshire dales, the moorlands 
 and valleys of the Border country, the boulder strewn moors 
 
180 MR, W, LINDSAY ON 
 
 of Devon, and the rocky coasts of Cornwall or Northum- 
 berland. In Cornwall and Devon cromlechs and stone circles 
 abound ; in Dorset, Wilts, and Hants, great camps and earth- 
 works ; in Kent, castles and remains of domestic architecture. 
 Materials may be always found at no great distance from out- 
 doors, and we who live in the south-east corner of England 
 are peculiarly fortunate, but in Kent, Sussex, and I may add 
 Surrey, it is difficult to move for the shortest distance without 
 encountering some memorial of bygone days. " Where is the 
 dust that hath not been alive " ? These districts probably 
 contain a greater number of antiquities of all periods than 
 the counties further west, and we have a charming companion 
 for a holiday ramble in the works of Mr. Louis Jennings, 
 who has made these counties specially his own, as anyone 
 will find if they refer to his Field Paths <nnl Green 
 Lanes (chiefty lying in Surrey and Sussex) and Rambles 
 in the South Doivns, supplemented by Howitt's Visits 
 to Remarkable Places and the handbooks of Mr. Murray. 
 Take for example a journey from Ramsgate along the 
 coast to Chichester. W T e pass by the spot of the great 
 landings on our soil immortalised by Dean Stanley Cresar, 
 St. Augustine, Hengist and Horsa, and the first Saxon con- 
 querers ; Richboro', whose massive Roman walls still stand ; 
 Sandwich, the great haven of our Plantagenet kings ; Dover, 
 with its Roman pharos and its massive Norman castle ; 
 Lymne, once a great Roman port, masses of whose walls 
 still lie on the hillside near Hythe ; Hastings Castle and 
 Battle Abbey, the scene of that momentous struggle of 
 Senlac, so graphically told by Mr. Freeman ; Pevensey, with 
 its Roman walls, 30ft. high, surrounding a mediaeval castle ; 
 Lewes, with its castle and battlefield, where the great Simon 
 de Montfort won for us our national liberties and wrested 
 from Henry III. the great reforms which have become the 
 basis of our constitutional system. Further on we come to 
 the magnificent castle of Arundel, the wonderful Roman villa 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 181 
 
 of Bignor, the cathedral and ancient city of Chichester. If 
 he has a taste for military architecture he will find an inner 
 ami outer circle of castles defending our shores and our 
 capital against the advance of an' invader Dover, Hastings, 
 Pevensey, Lewes, Bramber, Arundel ; the inner line of 
 defence being Canterbury, Rochester, Tunbridge, Reigate, and 
 Guildford. On the west, Farnhain, Berkhampsted, Windsor, 
 and Wallingford. There is hardly any district in England 
 where places and relics directly connected with the great 
 events of English history are so closely packed or so easily 
 accessible. Here we have a series of illustrations running 
 through the whole course of English history such as would 
 give a wonderful life and interest to our studies. One of 
 the greatest advantages to be derived from English travel 
 is the strong light which may be thrown by it on the 
 events of English history, and the reality which it may be 
 made to give to the words and descriptions of chronicler 
 and historian. Nothing impresses the mind w r ith the reality 
 of past events so much as visiting the scene of some great 
 historical incident. Where is the man " whose patriotism 
 would not gain force on the plain of Marathon and whose 
 piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona " ? 
 Dean Stanley says 
 
 Study the monuments of our ancestors, their gravestones, their 
 epitaphs, on the spots where they lie. Study, if possible, the scenes 
 of the events, their aspect, their architecture, their geography, the 
 tradition which has survived the hist >ry, the legend which has survived 
 the tradition, the mountain, the stream, the shapeless stone which 
 has survived even history and tradition and legend. 
 
 It is as a help to the study of history that I would 
 more especially urge upon your notice the advantages of 
 antiquarian tastes. We all of us, in these days of household 
 suffrage and ever extending franchises, have the privilege of 
 taking a practical part in political affairs. If it is right 
 that a man should have political power, it is right he should 
 exercise it worthily and honestly, and with knowledge, not 
 
182 MR. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 in blind ignorance. It matters greatly to all whether we 
 are well or ill-governed, and it is of vital consequence to 
 us that all should have some means of forming sound and 
 true opinions on political 'matters. By a polite fiction it is 
 assumed that one man's opinion is as good as another's, yet 
 with most of us those opinions are left to be formed in a 
 haphazard way, or we entirely surrender our judgment to 
 our favourite newspaper. All the institutions of man, all 
 his problems, his laws, his government, are evolutions. 
 They have all grown gradually, step by step ; to understand 
 them well we must learn how they grew in other words 
 their history. But unfortunately history is, to most people, 
 uninteresting and dull, and I read the other day that a 
 learned professor went so far as to say history ought to be 
 dull. If so I can't help thinking it will fail to be read 
 and cannot become popular. If we wish history to be 
 studied and it ought certainly to be studied we cannot 
 afford to despise any methods, any aids to make it more 
 interesting. One way some think there is no better way 
 is to study the history of a place or a district. The 
 ancient cities of England can boast of long annals of 
 historic interest, and few forms of antiquarian research are 
 more interesting than spelling out all that time has left of 
 its walls and gateways, castles and churches, and other 
 scraps and fragments of antiquity which may have been 
 spared. In France we may find more cities of importance, 
 castles and edifices on a larger scale, and cathedrals of 
 more imposing grandeur. York Minster would present a 
 modest appearance beside the loftier towers and more richly 
 sculptured faQades of such cathedrals as Amiens, Chartres, 
 a.nd Rheims. Windsor even the proud keep of Windsor 
 would look unsubstantial compared with the massive piles 
 of Pierrefonds and Coucy. French cities have for the most part 
 a longer history. In France we may trace the unbroken story 
 of many a local capital, from the time when it was a 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 183 
 
 Gaulish hill fort till it became a modern city. In England 
 very few cities can boast so long a life. The case of Exeter, 
 which has lived on from British times, is almost unique ; 
 and here we have an instructive contrast, a difference 
 which goes to the root of the history of the two countries. 
 It lies in the fact (at least according to Professor Freeman 
 and his school), that the Angle and Saxon were conquerors 
 of another kind from the Goth, Frank, and Burgundian, 
 who overran Gaul, and that the cities of Britain were 
 destroyed and overthrown and lay desolate for years, whereas 
 the cities of Gaul lived on. Exeter almost alone of our 
 cities has lived on through all its stages ; it has ever been 
 the city on. the Exe or Usk, and kept its name and its 
 place through all revolutions, and why ? Because, according 
 to Mr. Freeman, hitherto the Saxon had been a destroyer. 
 As he moved westward, Winchester, Silchester, Cirencester, 
 Bath, and other Roman settlements had fallen and lain 
 waste; but by the time he had reached Exeter he had 
 become civilized and no more destructive than the Frank 
 or the Goth. Thus it is that so few of our cities can claim 
 so early an origin or boast so long a life. Again, another 
 contrast is to be found in the fact that princely edifices 
 and ducal palaces, the grand houses of nobles and rich 
 merchants are less common in our cities than in France. 
 But a comparison of the histories of the two countries shews 
 us that this feature, though disappointing to the tourist, is 
 one with which w- may be well satisfied. It shews us 
 that the English earl or bishop did not aspire to becoming 
 an independent prince, or the city an independent common- 
 wealth, as was frequently the case in Gaul or Italy. The 
 king was near at hand and able to enforce obedience; the 
 central government was stronger and the kingdom more 
 united. Mr. Green says - 
 
 Municipal freedom was wrought by the slow growth of wealth 
 and of popular spirit, and. by the necessities of kings rather than by 
 
184 MR. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 the sturdy revolts that wrested liberty from the French seigneur, or by 
 the century of warfare that ravaged the plains of Italy. 
 
 It shews again that England was much more peaceful and 
 well ordered; that whereas a man in England could live in 
 safety in a peaceful manor house in an unwalled village, 
 none but the master of a strong castle was safe beyond the 
 walls of a fortified town. The wealth of the open country 
 in England results from the absence of causes which have 
 devastated the continent, such as long wars and invading 
 armies, which have swept France clear of antiquarian relics 
 except in the towns. Time and neglect have done far more 
 than intentional violence. 
 
 I have said thus much of English cities in a general 
 way. But history to be made thoroughly interesting requires 
 localising. With the place come the time and the persons, 
 and standing on the spot we can feel the past a reality and 
 not a dream. Annals are dry reading till they are verified 
 by some appeal to our senses, and especially to the feelings 
 associated with localities which are known to us. Many a 
 man who takes but a lukewarm interest in the antiquities 
 of the whole British Empire may be readily induced to take 
 an interest in those of the county, or city, to which he 
 belongs ; and when he finds that the localities with which 
 he is familiar are the sites on which great events took place 
 in bygone times, or in which great men had their residence, 
 their birthplace, or their grave, they will have a new interest 
 in them, a new charm ; they will acquire a dignity and 
 importance in his eyes which they never had before, and the 
 feeling of local attachment which animates him will add zest 
 and interest to his inquiries. If he' lives in or near some old 
 abbey, castle, or city, he will be tempted to investigate who 
 were its founders and builders, what scenes its walls have 
 witnessed ; or if near some great battlefield he would wish to 
 know why it was fought, who were the combatants, and what 
 were the results of the struggle. He will trace out the story 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 185 
 
 to its beginning, but he must beware of one pitfall he must 
 not become too much absorbed in his own little sphere. He 
 must not trace out his local history in the narrow spirit 
 which sees no further than the walls of his own city or 
 neighbourhood ; he must not think it superfluous to know 
 anything beyond his own town or county, but he must extend 
 his view and see in what relation it stands to England, how 
 the local and general history illustrate one another ; thus his 
 inquiries will carry him far afield, and he will traverse in his 
 excursion many a page of national history as well. Take for 
 example the case of a man residing in or near Chichester, a 
 dull and quiet enough place ; let him set about tracing out 
 its history, and he will rind it full of interest. He would 
 find it occupying the site of a Roman station, the capital 
 of the tribe of the Regni, divided (as most cities of Roman 
 origin are) by its main streets bisecting one another, into 
 four parts, after the manner of a Roman camp, and from 
 one of its gates issued one of the great Roman roads, the 
 " Stane Street," running northwards through what was the 
 great forest. of Sussex and Surrey, by Bignor and Pulboro' 
 to Dorking, thence to Croydon and Wallington ; then the 
 coming of the South Saxons after an interval, under their 
 half legendary leader Cissa, who is said to have founded 
 the city and given it his name Cissan-ceaster, Ciss-ceaster, 
 now corrupted into Chichester, and established the South 
 Saxon kingdom. Then he will find curious fact how 
 Knit, London, Hampshire, and Wiltshire had all become 
 Christianized, with their cathedrals and bishoprics founded 
 at Canterbury, Rochester, Winchester, and Salisbury, while 
 Sussex remained heathen ; he will be curious to know why, 
 and lie would learn how Sussex was shut out from the 
 world and fell very much behind the time by reason of 
 the dense, impenetrable forest, which extended from the 
 marches at Romney on the east, to the fiats between 
 Chichester and Portsmouth on the north and west. Then 
 
186 ME. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 he will read of the coming of S. Wilfrith, the apostle of 
 the South Saxons, A.D. 680, and the interesting story of his 
 travels, his shipwreck on the Sussex coast, and so forth. 
 All this would lead him into an inquiry which would carry 
 him a long way beyond the bounds of the county of Sussex, 
 but which is an essential part of the history of Sussex. 
 
 The county of Surrey, though full of associations of a 
 later day, has little to shew of Roman times. In the 
 south of England the long peace established during the 
 Roman sway made it unnecessary to place any important 
 stations in our district, and the Roman legions were 
 quartered in the north (at York, Chester, and in Northum- 
 berland). Villas were no doubt built along the great roads 
 which pierced the dense forests of which the county chiefly 
 consisted (one from the Sussex coast passing by Leith Hill 
 and Dorking northwards, and another from the Kent coast 
 to the first crossing of the Thames at Kingston), but we 
 have no important remains like the great villas at Bignor 
 and in Gloucestershire, or fortresses like those which 
 defended the coasts of Kent and Sussex. Our own corner 
 of the county was probably quite uninhabited; the Stone 
 Street passed far to the east of us, and the great road to 
 Bath to the north of us on the other side of the river 
 crossing Hounslow Heath ; the hill and park were happy 
 hunting grounds and left to the sole enjoyment of the wild 
 bull, the wolf, and the beaver, of which we are still reminded 
 by the Beverley Brook. The Green, the Old Deer Park, 
 and Kew were probably a dismal swamp, and under water 
 with every return of the tide. To the student of local 
 antiquities the interest of Richmond lies in the annals of 
 comparatively recent times, and we have plenty of associa- 
 tions connected with our Edwards, Henrys, Queen Elizabeth, 
 and the Georges, requiring a whole evening to themselves. 
 But we have close at hand one ancient battlefield, whose 
 traditions take us back into that dim past when history 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 187 
 
 had hardly begun, and on which I am tempted to 
 dwell for a few moments. If anyone will take the 
 trouble to walk up to the park and look across towards 
 the sloping ground of Wimbledon Common he will see 
 stretched out before him a strip of land round which 
 historic suggestions richly cluster, which has played its 
 part in our history the site of a great battlefield and 
 an encampment of undoubtedly great antiquity, commonly 
 known as Ccesar's Camp possibly the site of a still 
 earlier British settlement. Between the camp and the 
 windmill, on the hill side, were to be seen, it is said, 
 within the present century a collection of hut circles of 
 prehistoric times, though no remains of such can now be 
 discovered. It is impossible now to fix the period to 
 which the camp may be referred, but it has been ascribed 
 to British, Roman, Saxon, and Danish hands. Built in a 
 circular form on elevated ground, commanding an extensive 
 view witli water near, surrounded as it was with forest, it 
 has most of the characteristics of a British stronghold, and 
 its favourable situation probably led to its being occupied 
 by other nations in succession. Lying on the line of 
 march of an army advancing from the Kent coast to the 
 passage of the Thames it is quite possible, as some assert, 
 that the great Cyesar himself occupied it whilst preparing 
 for his conflict with Cassivelaunus, on the banks of the 
 river, which he crossed either at Kingston or Walton. 
 But whether this be so or not, we know that here was 
 fought a great battle in Saxon times. Let us take up this 
 thread and follow up my suggestion; let us see who were 
 the men that fought, why they fought, and what result it 
 had in English history. 
 
 The p. -rind to which the battle of Wimbledon belongs 
 is on' which till lately has been comparatively unknown, and 
 its interest and importance have still to be fully recognised. 
 The investigations of recent historians have let in a flood of 
 
188 MR. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 light upon it, and Mr. Green has very well pointed out 
 that the later stages of our national development only 
 become intelligible when we have fully grasped this age of 
 national formation, and that these early struggles, which 
 Milton regarded as merely " battles of the kites and crows," 
 were in reality the birth throes of our national life. It is 
 impossible to trace step by step, in the time left to us, the 
 settlement of the Anglo-Saxons in the south-eastern portion 
 of Britain ; let us, however, see what was the position of 
 affairs in the middle of the sixth century, and briefly survey 
 the situation just before the battle of Wimbledon took place 
 in A.D. 568. The East Saxons, having settled down on the 
 coast of Norfolk and Suffolk, had occupied the flat lands 
 stretching from the borders of East Anglia along the north 
 shore of the Thames towards the great merchant city of 
 London " Lunden Byrig." On the south side lay the Jutish 
 kingdoms of East and West Kent, separated by the great 
 forest of Andred from Sussex, the kingdom of the South 
 Saxons, stretching from Romney Marsh to the flats 
 between Chichester and Portsmouth. Our own county of 
 Surrey was probably almost entirely heath and forest, a 
 kind of no man's land, very sparsely inhabited, and these 
 inhabitants were Saxon freebooters and outlaws and all 
 the bad characters of the day. A population of Romanized 
 Britons still held London, but the remainder had retired 
 westwards and northwards. Finally to the south-west of 
 us the West Saxons had established themselves, not without 
 many a hard fight, up the valley from Southampton to 
 Winchester, and were creeping up on to the Hampshire 
 Downs, but were still kept in check from Wiltshire by 
 a fortress at Salisbury, and from Berkshire and the Thames 
 Valley by Silchester. It may be asked how it was that 
 the East Saxons on the north bank of the Thames and 
 the Jutes on the south had remained stationary for about 
 one hundred years and had not advanced up the rich valley 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 189 
 
 of the Thames, which lay so temptingly before them? Because 
 the well fortified city of London, situated in a position 
 with strong natural advantages, barred the water way. The 
 advance by the north bank of the river was not possible 
 because the clay flats of Essex and desolate fens of the 
 river Lea stretched across their path ; there was also the 
 Great Forest spreading over Middlesex towards St. Alban's, 
 so dense that the Romans never attempted to penetrate 
 it with roads, and of which we see the remains in Epping 
 Forest and Waltham Chace. On the south side of London 
 lay a huge swamp, Lambeth and Southwark being inundated 
 by every rise of the tide, and a morass extended as far as 
 the high ground near Dulwich, which it would be impossible 
 for a force to traverse with a strong enemy on the flank. 
 
 Now about the middle of the sixth century, though our 
 records are scanty, there appears to have been a general 
 movement westwards both of the East Saxons on the 
 north, and the men of Kent on the south. The hundred years 
 of more or less settled life and peace, and the trade with 
 the continent which their favourable position gave, had 
 strengthened and consolidated the power of the Teutonic 
 settlers ; they no doubt wanted more room, and like the 
 Americans and Canadians of to-day thought it time to 
 " make tracks " and " go west," while London, round whom 
 the circle of invaders was gathering, and on the other hand 
 cut off from its trade with the continent, had become 
 weakened. What could account for this general advance 
 about this time ? We have no account of the fall and 
 capture of London, but, as Mr. Green points out in his very 
 interesting history, The Making of Enylu-nd, nothing but 
 the fall of the city could remove the hindrance to the 
 Saxon advance, and as we know that before the year 600 
 London had passed into the hands of Seberht, King of the 
 East Saxons, it is probable that it fell about this date (say 
 560), and that its capture opened the way to the Kentishmen 
 
190 ME. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 westwards. However this may be, in 568 a Kentish army 
 had been collected on the western border of Kent, under 
 Ethelbert, King of Kent, then a stripling of sixteen. 
 Hardly had they got across the marshes on the border, 
 skirted the side of m Sydenham Hill, where the Crystal 
 Palace now stands, and entered upon the coveted district of 
 Surrey, through Streatham and Tooting, crossing the Wandle, 
 and climbing up on to the high ground of Putten Heath 
 (now Putney), before they found themselves face to face with 
 a foe. The foe, however, was not on this occasion, as we 
 might perhaps have expected, a British force collected to 
 resist the Kentish advance, but a Saxon army, and for the 
 first time in our history we find Saxon against Saxon (or 
 rather Jute) confronting one another. Now, you will 
 remember we left the West Saxons settled on the Hampshire 
 Downs near Winchester, kept in check by the fortified 
 cities of Salisbury (Sorbiodunum) and Silchester (Calleva). 
 In 552 Cynric, after thirty years of inaction, advanced on 
 Salisbury. In 556 the battle of Barbury Hill gave the 
 West Saxons the Wiltshire Downs, they occupied Newbury 
 and advanced along the Kennet to Reading, and conquered 
 Berkshire (Bearroc, land of box trees). The fall of Calleva 
 enabled them to outflank the west corner of Andred Forest, 
 and opened the lower valley of the Thames to their advance. 
 They crossed Bagshot Heath, then as now a lonely stretch 
 of heather and sand, passed Weybridge and the Mole to 
 Kingston, the site of a Roman station. We have already 
 brought the Kentish army to Wimbledon Common, and 
 thus we have the two forces face to face for the encounter. 
 Mr. Green says 
 
 Right in their path now stretched a broad heath, which extended 
 from the river's brink at Putney (Putten Heath) to the height or 
 "dun," known after as "Wibba's Dun" or Wimbledon. The heath 
 was studded with barrows, which marked it as the scene of earlier 
 conflicts and an older entrenchment of seven acres may have been 
 occupied by the forces of Ethelbert if first on the ground. 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 191 
 
 It is not likely, however, that they set much value upon 
 that, as the Saxons were not skilled either in the defence 
 or attack of fortified places. Sieges came in with the 
 Normans, but before that time warfare consisted of pitched 
 battles in the open field, and was conducted on no scientific 
 principles. The opposing forces having met would probably 
 rush at each other, and lay about them right and left in 
 primitive fashion with their swords and battle axes, at close 
 quarters, till one side or the other took to flight. Possibly 
 those hardy Saxons had something of that contempt for 
 scientific warfare from behind walls and defences, and for 
 shooting your enemy at a distance, which it is said the 
 old Greeks had, considering it a degenerate thing, and not 
 fair fighting, preferring to get at their enemy and hit 
 him on the head with a sword, or run him through with 
 a spear. Mr. Green continues 
 
 A century of peace had left the Jutes of Kent no match 
 for the veterans who were fresh from the long strife 011 the Hants 
 and Wilts Downs. The encounter of A.D. 568 at Wimbledon was 
 memorable as the first fight of Englishmen against Englishmen on 
 British soil, and the day went against the young Kentish king his 
 army was thrown back across the Wandle on its own border, and 
 the disputed district, the Surrey of after days, was not to be theirs, 
 and became from that moment a land of the West Saxons. 
 The localities to which I have referred are chiefly places of 
 well-known historic interest, but even if a man should not 
 be so fortunate as to live in or near any ancient city, 
 fortress, or abbey church, but in some village or country 
 parish associated with no great events, or with no great 
 naiin s in history of the first rank, he need not be dis- 
 h'-artened or deterred, for beneath the prosaic exterior of a 
 quirt parish church may be frequently detected a great 
 deal of English history coiled up, and the annals and 
 iv-istcrs of a humble country parish have much to tell us 
 of the lives and characters of the humble folk of whom 
 they speak. They throw a side light, but a not un- 
 
192 MR. W. LINDSAY ON 
 
 important light, on the ways of thinking prevalent in the 
 times to which they belong, on the direction and force of the 
 undercurrent which made possible those great changes which 
 took place in their day, and on their direct and indirect 
 conscious and unconscious share in the making of history, 
 how local self-government became gradually developed in 
 the offices of justice, constable, and overseer of the poor, 
 ths genealogy of the families of tha district, how the press- 
 gang worked its cruel way to man our ships and fill our 
 regiments, how national disasters were announced by the 
 proclamation of a form of prayer, and national victories by 
 the ringing of the Church bells, and how free was the 
 consumption of beer on the smallest provocation at the 
 parish's expense. These and a thousand other particulars 
 may be gleaned from these annals of a country parish. It 
 is indeed the special province and the delight of the 
 antiquary to wander in these bye-paths and lanes which 
 the historian, in his more stately march, passes by ; it is 
 in the bye-paths, fields, and lanes that the fairest flowers 
 are often found. It is here that his researches and 
 investigations, minute and unimportant though they may 
 appear, supplement the labours of, and are frequently of 
 service to, the historian ; and as the history of the whole is 
 made up of the history of the parts, and the study of local 
 leads up to national history, so he will find that "if he 
 intelligently pursues those paths he will " (as I have seen 
 it somewhere well put) " eventually walk with firm step 
 from the mere parish lane on to the county road, and even 
 traverse the Imperial highway." It does not follow because 
 lives are uneventful that they are to be passed by without 
 comment, or that the lives and deeds of men unknown to 
 fame are without their value. " Thousands of unknown ^ood 
 
 o 
 
 spirits have done their work in life, but have left little or 
 no record of their passage ; that work has, however, been 
 none the less real, none the less national." Their lives have 
 
LOCAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES. 193 
 
 not been spent without tragedy and comedy. Pathos and 
 poetry, romance and interest, are found in the lives of 
 ordinary men and women, and (as George Eliot reminds us) 
 "the growing good of the world is partly dependent on 
 unhistoric acts, and that things are not so ill with you and 
 me as they might have been is half owing to the number 
 of those who have lived faithfully a hidden life and rest in 
 unvisited tombs." 
 
 ?'///, 1S85. 
 
 [NOTE. The above paper was not written for publication, and as it was compiled 
 from note books and other miscellaneous sources, I fear there are several extracts and 
 quotations which are not properly indicated and acknowledged. -W.L.] 
 
Burns' Sympathy with the Lower 
 Creation!' 
 
 By the REV. JOHN MAUGHLEN. 
 
 F the words of a man are any index to his 
 character and I think it will be granted that 
 a true poet sings what he feels it will be 
 easy to show that Burns was a man whose 
 merciful spirit and tender feelings overflow in all his 
 writings. If kindness to animals, sympathy with them in 
 their sufferings, indignation at the inhuman wretches who 
 thoughtlessly inflict pain on them, disclose a similar 
 disposition towards the human species, then Burns more 
 than any man we know was incapable, without a remorse 
 which tore his very heart asunder, of wronging his fellow- 
 creatures in the way with which he has been charged. 
 Although his reputation as a poet has steadily increased 
 since the publication of his first volume of poetry at 
 Kilmarnock, and critics do not hesitate now to call him 
 the greatest song writer the world has ever seen, his 
 character as a man has not had such a favourable judgment 
 passed upon it. The godly folks of his day, who tasted 
 somewhat severely and not altogether undeservedly of his 
 stinging satire, have not died out, and it is no uncommon 
 thing to hear him spoken of as a man who gloried in his 
 own heartlessness and profanity. Some have summarily 
 consigned him to 
 
 Yon cavern, grim and sooty, 
 
 Closed under hatches 
 
IOC) THE REV. JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 where the torment spirit of the place 
 
 Spairges about the brimstone cooty 
 
 To scaud puir wretches. 
 
 Others as unjust, though less inclined to meddle with the 
 poet's fate, have pitied him with pharisaic self-satisfaction, 
 and without being able to discover in him a redeeming 
 feature. Now we are not going to assert that Burns' 
 character was blameless, nor are we inclined to think 
 lightly of the "thoughtless follies" that "laid him low and 
 stained his name." Of his failings Burns was himself 
 deeply conscious and as deeply repentant. Even in his 
 lighter moments, when writing a satirical epistle to some 
 brother poet, his own life springs up before him and he 
 will not defend it 
 
 God knows I'm no the thing I should be, 
 Nor am I even the thing I could be ; 
 But twenty times I rather would be 
 
 An atheist clean, 
 Than under gospel colours hid be, 
 
 Just for a screen. 
 
 There are passages in his life that can never be 
 screened. The delightful passion which first awoke within 
 him as he sympathetically took the thistle-pricked hand of 
 his fair partner on the harvest field in his own, became at 
 once the secret of his power and of his weakness, his fame 
 and his disgrace. Love not only awoke the poetic fire 
 within him, but continued to be the inspiration of the best 
 he ever wrote. The cause of his settled unhappiness lay also 
 in its abuse in himself and others who trusted him. But 
 that Burns was not a coarse man of the world, who could 
 stifle the voices which reproached him for his conduct, by 
 continuing to pursue the course which " hardens a' within 
 and petrifies the feelin'," but on the contrary, a man whose 
 tender conscience caused him acute mental anguish on 
 account of his follies, is sufficiently seen in his letter to 
 Aitken, when the "gloomy night was gathering fast," and 
 
BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 197 
 
 a combination of circumstances suggested emigration to 
 the West Indies as a possible road out of his difficulties 
 and perhaps to hope. He speaks of the " wandering stabs 
 of remorse which never fail to settle on my vitals like 
 vultures, when attention is not called away by the calls of 
 society or the vagaries of the muse. Even in the hour of 
 social mirth my gaiety is the madness of an intoxicated 
 criminal under the hands of the executioner." He could 
 never remember the wrongs he had done to his fellow 
 mortals without shame ; and his moral sense, so much 
 stronger than his will, was a sufficient source of pain, 
 without that inflicted by those who, in the name of 
 religion, took a course which could not fail to drive a man 
 of his temperament straight to ruin 
 
 They take religion in their mauth, 
 
 They talk o' mercy, grace, and truth ; 
 
 For what ? to gie their malice skouth 
 On same puir wight ; 
 
 And hunt him down o'er right and routh 
 
 To ruin straight. 
 
 It must have been an unspeakable pain to Burns, so 
 conscious of his own failings and so stabbed by the 
 continual remembrance of them, even in circles where 
 others forget them, to be worried by the attacks of petty 
 critics, moral and literary, who were incapable of going 
 beneath the surface, or of understanding his many-sided 
 nature. The "address to the unco guid" coming straight 
 from his heart, and displaying, as the Ettrick shepherd 
 says, " the most intimate knowledge of the mysteries of 
 passion in the human soul, is one of the finest sermons 
 ever written on the text, 'Let him that is without sin cast 
 the first stone/ " After showing that the difference 
 
 O 
 
 1> 'tween (>n<> man and another lies not so much in inherent 
 virtue as in lees trying eimnnstances, and the "better art 
 of hiding," lie goes <n to say 
 
 Thru -j;eiitly scan your brother man, 
 Still gentler sister woman ; 
 
198 THE REV. JOHN MAtTCHLEN ON 
 
 Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, 
 To step aside is human. 
 
 One point must still be greatly dark, 
 
 The moving why they do it ! 
 And just as lamely can ye mark 
 
 How far, perhaps, they rue it. 
 
 Who made the heart, 'tis He alone 
 
 Decidedly can try us, 
 He knows each chord its various tone, 
 
 Each spring its various bias. 
 
 Then at the balance let's be mute, 
 
 We never can adjust it ; 
 What's done we partly may compute, 
 
 But know not what's resisted. 
 
 That is all the defence Burns' character needs that is all 
 he asks for himself and his misjudged fellows. Strong- 
 passions and highly developed social tendencies led him 
 into many wild excesses, which we cannot deplore more 
 deeply than he himself did in his calm moments. We will 
 not say with him that "the light which led astray wa s 
 light from heaven," but we will affirm again that at the 
 bottom he was an honest, tender-hearted man. He saw the 
 right and the good, and approved them, but he often lacked 
 strength of will to rule his passions. In such cases his 
 ever-tender conscience piled up the misery of his life which 
 found expression in penitential laments as real as anything 
 in the fifty-first Psalm. Then let us be mute at the 
 balance, or if we say anything, let it be in that spirit of 
 charity and hopefulness which he showed towards him 
 who is considered to be the most abandoned and hopeless 
 of all beings, even the dell. Burns could only speak of 
 him thus 
 
 Now fare ye weel, auld Nickie ben ! 
 Oh, wad ye tak' a thought an' men' 
 Ye aiblins might I dinna ken 
 Still hae a stake : 
 
BURNS* SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 199 
 
 I'm wae to think upo' yon den, 
 Ev'n for your sake ! 
 
 We shall find in the poems now to be noticed a confirmation 
 of this view of the poet's character that is to say, his 
 sympathy with the lower creation is no forced sentiment, 
 bearing no true relation to the soul of the man. It is natural 
 and heartfelt. He wrote more from his own heart and from 
 his own feelings than most poets. His best poems those 
 in which his tenderness to animals is most conspicuous 
 were composed in the field at his work, when his heart was 
 moved by what he saw. His brother Gilbert says when he 
 was inly moved the agitation of his mind and body exceeded 
 anything of the kind he ever saw. His wife often noticed 
 the strange and wild gesticulations of her husband as they 
 walked by the riverside. " I wish you had seen him," she 
 says ; " he was in such ecstacy, the tears were happing clown 
 his cheeks." At other times they were tears of another 
 kind that dimmed his eye. Far in the north of Scotland a 
 boy who acted as guide to Burns and Mr. Nicol was found 
 to possess the famous book of poems that all Scotland was 
 reading. On being asked which poem he liked best he 
 replied, " ' The Cottar's Saturday Night/ although it made 
 me greet when my father had me to read it to my 
 mother." Patting him kindly on the shoulder Burns said, 
 "Well, my callant, I don't wonder' at your grteti/ng at 
 reading the poem; it made me greet more than once when 
 I was writing it at my father's fireside." This was the 
 \\;i\ h<- made his poems; they came from him with a thrill 
 of ecstacy or a pang of sorrow. When we read his 
 addresses to the "wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie," 
 running with "bickering brattle" over the cold, frost- 
 covered earth from the cruel crash of the coulter ; to his " auld 
 niarc Maggie," standing in the stable, " dowie, stiff, and 
 cra/ie," after nine and twenty years of faithful service; to 
 "Poor Mailie," his pet ewe, warsling in the ditch and 
 
200 THE REV. JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 uttering her last groans, so full of humour, to the gaping 
 
 herd-boy ; or his lines on the wounded hare hirpling with 
 
 bleeding bosom down the furrow to seek some soft grassy spot 
 
 for a dying bed, we see into the heart of the poet, and 
 
 feel that one who could not mention a subordinate being, 
 
 however mean, without a pathos in his language which 
 
 awakens the very finest feelings within us who responds 
 
 so feelingly to all their sufferings must have been an 
 
 exceedingly good and kind-hearted man, must have felt 
 
 himself one with creation " groaning and travailing in pain." 
 
 Being the son of a peasant Burns was brought into 
 
 contact with all the animal life of a farm from his 
 
 childhood. From the " new ca'd kye," routing at the stake, 
 
 to the little "inousie" nibbling the straw to make its nest 
 
 in the bare stubble field ; from the owl, lone bird of night, 
 
 venting its sad plaints from some old castle in the 
 
 midnight hour, to the gay lintwhite singing on the spray, 
 
 all were familiar to hirn, yea all were companions to 
 
 him. The true poetic instinct led him to watch them with 
 
 tenderness, through all the seasons " as a part of that 
 
 nature which he pourtrayed with so much truthfulness." 
 
 There was not a bonny bird that sang on mountain shaw 
 
 or green, nor a four-footed beast that had its abode on the 
 
 farms Mount Oliphant, Lochlea, Mossgiel, or Ellisland but 
 
 he knew it, its song, its' habits, its peculiarities, and he gave 
 
 them all a place in his poetry. The routing kye, the silly 
 
 sheep, the bleating lambkins, the coward maukin, the 
 
 sleekit mousie, and the cunning tod ; even the laden bee, 
 
 the stately salmon, the glowering trout, the supple-tailed 
 
 eel, and the greedy ged, are all mentioned and truthfully 
 
 described. The whirring paitrick, the heather-cropping 
 
 grouse, the cootie moorcock, the curlew, the sooty coot, the 
 
 speckled teal, the fisher heron, the clamouring craik, the 
 
 whistling plover, the duck, the drake, the bittern, and the 
 
 wailing hoiilct ; the sober laverock, the robin, the guwd- 
 
BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 201 
 
 spink, the blackbird strong, the lintwhite clear, the mild 
 and mellow mavis, and whatever other creature seemed to 
 him to be drinking in the joy of the seasons, awakened 
 the sympathy of his heart, which poured forth in 
 spontaneous music from his lips. He says 
 
 I never hear the loud solitary whistle of the curlew in a summer 
 noon, or the wild mixing cadence of a troop of grey plovers in an 
 autumnal morning, without feeling an elevation of soul like the 
 enthusiasm of devotion or poetry. 
 
 When Burns began to feel the bitterness and disappoint- 
 ments of his lot when threatening letters from factors 
 threw the whole family into tears when what he held to 
 be the first of human joys here below was cruelly thwarted 
 when these affections were abused in himself and in 
 others (whose chief fault was that they trusted him, not 
 wisely, but too well), and remorse gnawed at his heart 
 when kirk sessions pointed their spiritual artillery against 
 him when bad seasons drove him out of his farm and fires 
 burned him out of his flax works, and left him, as he says, 
 " a true poet without a sixpence " when the unfeeling 
 world, which had lionized him, left him to pine in poverty 
 or to waste his life in drudgery of a common gauger then 
 these beasts of the field and these songsters of the wood 
 became his companions and comforted him by their un- 
 conscious ministry far more truly than his own kind. 
 There was in the wag of his dog Luath's tail, in the 
 lYiskings of Mailie as she met him returning home weary 
 and sad at heart, or in the mellow notes of the mavis at 
 the fall of evening, something more sincere than anything 
 lie could get from the flattering lips of men. These 
 el- atures have an echo for every feeling of his heart. 
 \Ylien he is cheerful they help him to express his joy; 
 when he is sad they respond to his moods, or their innocent. 
 imrtht'ulne.^s draws forth his heart-broken complaints, and 
 gives relief to his feelings. He sympathises with them in 
 thuir sufferings, and while In- espouses their cause against 
 
202 THE REV. JOHN MAtfCHLEN ON 
 
 the inhumanity of men, he makes them the exponent of 
 his own feelings under the treatment which he has received 
 from his fellows. They are the subjects of his most 
 humorous and tender poems, in which he recounts the 
 whole toiling life of a ploughman, or discusses the relation 
 between landlord and tenant, rich and poor. He is so 
 knit together with them in their humble, down-trodden 
 state, that he calls himself their " poor earth-born companion 
 and fellow mortal," and draws comfort from them at the 
 thought of his own impending fate. 
 
 When he indulges in the " sacred lowe o' weel-placed 
 love " it is the songs of the birds that delight his glowing 
 
 heart 
 
 There's no' a bonny bird that sings, 
 
 But minds me o' my Jean ; 
 * * # * 
 
 I hear her voice in ilka bird, 
 Wi' music charms the air. 
 
 As he walks forth in the gloaming by Afton water which 
 winds by the cot where his Mary resides, he becomes their 
 enchanter 
 
 Thou stock dove, whose echo resounds thro' the glen, 
 Thou wild whistling blackbird in yon thorny den, 
 Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear 
 I charge thee disturb not my slumbering fair. 
 
 In return for their ministry of joy to him, he rejoices in 
 everything that makes them happy. In that humorous 
 elegy on Tain Samson, the famous sportsman of Kilmarnock, 
 he finds occasion to congratulate his scaly and feathered 
 friends on the withdrawal of, at least, one deadly rod and 
 
 gun- 
 Now safe the stately saumon sail, 
 And trout bedrapp't wi' crimson tail, 
 And eels weel kenned for souple tail, 
 
 And gods for greed. 
 Since dark in Death's fish-creel we wail 
 
 Tarn Samson dead ! 
 
BURNS* SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 203 
 
 Rejoice ye birring pai tricks a' ; 
 
 Ye cootie moorcocks crousely craw ; 
 
 Ye maukins cock your feed tu' braw, 
 
 Withouten dread ; 
 Your mortal fae is now awa' 
 
 Tain Samson's dead ! 
 
 And so, too, in the "humble petition of the water bruar to 
 the Duke of Athol," in which he pleads that his grace will 
 plant its banks with shady trees, and tells him that many 
 grateful birds will return him tuneful thanks as he wanders 
 on its banks doubly delighted. The interest displayed in 
 this poem, in all that concerns the happiness of the lower 
 creation, could not have been more tenderly expressed if 
 he had been pleading for his own children. But again, the 
 birds that have responded to his joys are also associated with 
 his disappointments, sorrows, and misfortunes. There are no 
 more pathetic utterances to be found anywhere than those 
 two songs which record a passion that has been mellowed 
 by time. The first is the beautiful pastoral, " My Nannie's 
 Awa " 
 
 Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, 
 And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes, 
 While birds warble welcome in ilka green shaw 
 But to me its delightless my Nannie's awa'. 
 
 Thou laverock that springs from the dew o' the lawn, 
 The shepherd to warn o' the grey breaking dawn, 
 And thou mellow mavis that hails the nightfa', 
 Give over for pity my Nannie's awa'. 
 
 The second song is too well known to need mention. The 
 sweet songsters which delighted his heart on the banks o' 
 Doon long ago, now pain his sad bosom by recalling past 
 joys. They are still joyful, but he is not what he once 
 was he is "weary, fu' o' care" 
 
 How can ye chant ye little birds, 
 And I sae weary, fu' o' care. 
 
 # * * * 
 
 You'll break my heart, ye warbling birds*, 
 That wanton in the flowery thorn ; 
 
204 THE KEV JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 Ye mind me of departed joys 
 
 Departed never to return. 
 
 The memory of the past turns their songs into laments 
 In vain for me on sliaw or green 
 The mavis and the lintwhite sing. 
 
 Yet in the hooting owl, shut out from all the feathered 
 tribe, to tell its sorrows to the unheeding gloom, no friend 
 to pity, grief all its thoughts, and solitude its home, he 
 finds a note in harmony with his feeling and cries- 
 Sing on, sad mourner ! I will bless thy strains, 
 And pleased in sorrow, listen to thy song. 
 * * * # * 
 
 I will list more pleased to thee, 
 Than ever lover to the nightingale ; 
 Or drooping wretch oppressed with misery, 
 Lending his ear to some condoling tale. 
 
 Burns' sympathy with the animal creation in their 
 sufferings was most intense. Never is his tenderness so deep 
 as when he thinks of their exposure to inclement weather. 
 Nowhere does his indignation flash forth so fiercely as 
 when he thinks of the pain which men inflict on them. 
 Winter, he tells us himself, more than any other season of 
 the year, had a peculiar charm for him. " This, I believe," 
 he continues, " may be partly owing to my misfortunes 
 giving my mind a melancholy cast ; but there is something 
 even in the 
 
 Mighty tempest, and the hoary waste, 
 
 Abrupt and deep, stretched o'er the buried earth, 
 
 which raises the mind to a serious sublimity favourable to 
 everything great and noble." There was nothing which 
 enraptured him more " than to walk in the sheltered side 
 of a wood, or high plantation, on a cloudy winter day, and 
 hear the storm-wind howling amoncr the trees and ravine 
 
 O O t5 
 
 over the plain. It is my best S3aso:i for devotio.i." Yet 
 on such a night, sitting in his house, swayed now by the 
 ruin that was facing him, now by those exalted thoughts 
 
BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 205 
 
 which the raging tempest awoke within him, we find him 
 
 saying 
 
 List'ning the doors an' wimiocks rattle, 
 
 I thought me o' the ourie cattle, 
 Or silly sheep wha bide the brattle 
 
 O' winter war, 
 And thro' the drift, deep-lairing sprattle, 
 
 Beneath a scar. 
 
 Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing, 
 That, in the merry months o' spring, 
 Delighted me to hear thee sing, 
 
 What comes o' thee ? 
 Whare wilt thou cower thy cluttering wing, 
 
 An' close thine e'e I 
 ( 'iirlyle says 
 
 How touching it is, amid the gloom of personal misery that 
 broods over and around him, that amid the storm he still thinks of 
 the cattle, the silly sheep, and the wee harmless birdies ! Yes, the 
 tenant of the mean lowly hut has the heart to pity all these. This 
 is worth a volume of homilies on mercy, for it is the voice of mercy 
 itself. Burns lives in sympathy. His soul rushes forth into all the 
 realms of being. Nothing that has existence can be indifferent to him. 
 
 The cruel arts of man, however, awaken in him an 
 indignation even deeper than his pity. Witness what he 
 says about the deeds of beekeepers and sportsmen. The 
 bees, after their summer's toil, is sealed up with frugal care 
 in massive waxen pile 
 
 Are doomed by man, that tyrant o'er the weak, 
 The death of devils, smooivd \vi' brimstone reek. 
 
 \ a in 
 
 The thundering guns are heard on every side, 
 The wounded coveys, reeling, scatter wide, 
 The feathered field-mates bound by nature's tie, 
 Sires, mothers, children in one carnage lie. 
 
 And the poet adds in indignation 
 
 What warm poetic heart but inly bleeds, 
 And execrates man's savage ruthless deeds. 
 
 We have a proof that this was no mere sentimental 
 
 effusion, in the incident which led to the composition of 
 
206 THE REV. JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 "Lines on a Wounded Hare" a good example of the 
 poet's attempts in pure English. He must be allowed to 
 tell it himself 
 
 One morning lately, as I was out pretty early in the fields 
 sowing some grass seeds, I heard the burst of a shot from a 
 neighbouring plantation, and presently a poor little wounded hare 
 came hirpling by me. You will guess my indignation at the inhuman 
 fellow who could shoot a hare at this season, when all of them have 
 young ones. Indeed, there is something in the business of destroying 
 for our sport individuals in the animal creation who do not injure us 
 materially which I could never reconcile to my ideas of virtue. 
 The lad who was guilty of this atrocity was the son of a 
 neighbouring fanner, and he says 
 
 Burns cursed me and said he would not mind throwing me into 
 the water, and I'll warrant he could hae done't, tho' I was both 
 young and strong. 
 
 Burns, however, did what was far better. His feelings 
 found vent in those lines which everyone must know 
 
 Inhuman man ! Curse on thy barb'rous art, &c. 
 In the same spirit are the " Lines on scaring some water 
 fowl in Loch Turit." But by far the most pathetic poem 
 of this description is that to which I have more than once 
 referred the address to a mouse on turning up her nest 
 with the plough in the cold November weather. I do not 
 know of anything that has been written to equal it. Its 
 tenderness touches the heart, and even draws the tear, 
 though it is only about a little mouse. Burns was holding 
 the plough, and John Blain, a farm servant, was driving 
 the horses. The little creature, turned out of its cosy nest 
 by the riving plough, was observed running across the field. 
 Blain, w r ho had the plough-cleansing utensil in his hand at 
 the moment, thoughtlessly ran after it to kill it, when 
 Burns checked him but not angrily, as in the case of the 
 hare shooter saying, " Hold, man ! What harm has the 
 poor mouse done you " ? The soul of the poet, which ever 
 responded to the sufferings and sorrows of the oppressed 
 
BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 207 
 
 and the weak, was touched. He spoke no more during the 
 remainder of the day, but seemed thoughtful. I may be 
 allowed to read to you what that incident gave to the 
 world 
 TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST, WITH THE PLOUGH, 
 
 NOVEMBER, 1785. 
 
 Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, 
 O, what a panic's in thy breastie ! 
 Thou need na start awa sae hasty, 
 
 Wi' bickering brattle ! 
 I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, 
 Wi' murd'ring pattle ! 
 
 I'm truly sorry man's dominion 
 Has broken Nature's social union, 
 An' justifies that ill opinion, 
 
 Which makes thee startle, 
 At me, thy poor, earth-born companion, 
 
 An' fellow-mortal ! 
 
 I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve ; 
 What then ? poor beastie, thou maun live ! 
 A daimen-icker in a thrave 
 
 'S a sma' request : 
 I'll get a blessing wi' the lave, 
 
 And never miss't ! 
 
 Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin ! 
 Its silly wa's the win's are strewin' ! 
 An' naething, now, to big a new ane, 
 
 O' foggage green ! 
 An' bleak December's winds ensuin', 
 
 Baith snell an' keen ! 
 
 Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, 
 An' weary winter comin' fast, 
 An' cozie here, beneath the blast, 
 
 Thou thought to dwell, 
 Till crash ! the cruel coulter past, 
 
 Out thro' thy cell. 
 
 That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, 
 Has cost thee mony a weary nibble ! 
 
208 THE REV. JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 Now thou's turned out, for a' tliy trouble, 
 
 But house or hald, 
 To thole the winter's sleety dribble, 
 
 An' cranreuch cauld ! 
 
 But, mousie, thou art no thy lane, 
 In proving foresight may be vain : 
 The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, 
 
 Gang aft a-gley, 
 An' lea'e us naught but grief and pain, 
 
 For promis'd joy. 
 
 Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me ! 
 The present only toucheth thee : 
 But, ocli ! I backward cast my e'e 
 
 On prospects drear ! 
 An' forward, tho' I canna see, 
 
 I guess an' fear ! 
 
 These beautiful lines were composed at the plough, when 
 Blain was wondering at the ploughman's silence ; they were 
 written out at home the same night. Above the but and 
 ben of the farmhouse at Mossgiel was a garret, reached by 
 a trapstair, in which the two ploughmen slept. Here also 
 Burns regularly transcribed the verses which he had composed 
 in the field. Think of him, weary with his day's toil, yet 
 unable to sleep for the thought of this little mouse which 
 he had unwittingly disturbed in the afternoon ! Think of 
 him waking up his drowsy companion, who slept none the 
 worse for having lifted up a murderous hand against an 
 inoffensive creature ! And after reading to him the pathetic 
 lines, asking him what he thought of the mouse now ! 
 John Blain learned a lesson in mercy that night which he 
 would never forget, and everyone who has read the poem 
 has learned to look on the most insignificant creature with 
 somewhat of Burns' sympathy. 
 
 There are three other poems in which Burns uses his 
 knowledge of the brute creation in a new way. There is 
 the same kindliness of nature displayed in them ; but in 
 
BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 200 
 
 addition to that we have a most wonderful combination of 
 humour and fancy which shows Burns at his best. The 
 first of these " The Death and dying words of poor Mailie, 
 the Author's only pet Yowe," is one of the happiest of his 
 early efforts. Everyone who is acquainted with farm life 
 knows that this animal is indispensable to the happiness of 
 the farmhouse, especially where there are children. Out of 
 all the lambs left motherless at their birth in the cold 
 spring weather, there is always one which, being too 
 weakly to find support from a foster mother among her 
 own strong children, is taken to the farmhouse, fed by the 
 hand and petted until it becomes a general household 
 favourite of much intelligence, affection, and it must be 
 added mischief. Such a pet was in Burns' house at 
 
 Lochlea 
 
 Thro' a' the toon she trotted by him, 
 A lang half mile she could descry him, 
 Wi' kindly bleat when she did spy him, 
 
 She ran wi' speed. 
 
 It is the comicality which gives his " Elegy " on this same 
 favourite its merit. Wanting that, it could only have been 
 a worthless nursery poem. But think of the bardie 
 shutting himself up in his parlour with sorrow, or 
 venturing out with crape on his bonnet, or invoking 
 the bards o' bonny Doon to join in lamenting Mailie 
 dead. These and many other touches show the inimitable 
 skill of the writer. This ewe, with her two lambs 
 fi'cding near her, was tethered in a field adjoining the 
 house. As the poet and his brother Gilbert were 
 proceeding with their horses to the plough a boy came 
 to them, with much anxiety in his face, with the 
 information that the ewe had entangled herself in the 
 
 O 
 
 ti'thrr, and was lying in the ditch. Burns was so amused 
 with the boy's comical appearance and attitudes, that his 
 thoughts ran on the subject the whole day, and on 
 coming home he repeated to Gilbert the poem as it now 
 
 p 
 
210 THE KEY. JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 stands. . The picture of poor Mailie as " owre she warsled 
 in the ditch," and of Hughoc, " wi' glowering 'een and 
 lifted hands," is simply perfect- 
 He saw her days were nearly ended, 
 But wae's my heart ! it could na' mend it ; 
 He gaped wide, but naething spak', 
 At length poor Mailie silence brak'. 
 
 She sends a message to her master warning him against 
 "the wicked strings o' hemp and hair," and advising him, 
 if he should ever have as much money again as would buy 
 a sheep, to " ca' them out to park or hill and let them 
 wander at their will." Then she commends her offspring 
 to him, imploring him to be kind to them 
 
 Oh, bid him save their harmless lives, 
 Frae dogs and tods and butchers' knives ; 
 But gie them guid cow milk their fill, 
 Till they be fit to 'fend themsel'. 
 And tent them duly e'en and morn 
 With teats o' hay and rips o' corn. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 And may they never learn the gaets 
 O' other vile waiirestfu' pets, 
 To slink thro' slaps and reave and steal 
 At stalks o' peas or stocks o' kail. 
 So may they like their great forbears 
 For many a year come thro' the shears ; 
 So wives will gie them bits o' bread, 
 And bairns greet for them when they're dead. 
 
 The expiring animal's admonitions touching the education 
 of the "poor toop lamb," her son and heir; and the "yowie, 
 silly thing," her daughter in which the cleverness of the 
 poem lies and upon which I cannot venture any remarks 
 are from the sly humour, commingled with fancy, which 
 will be noticed more fully developed in his later poems yet 
 to be mentioned. However, the closing exordium is 
 amusing enough to those who like myself have frequented 
 the butcher's killing house in a country village, and courted 
 
, BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 211 
 
 his favour for the sake of the organ which is inflated 
 through a straw or the stem of a clay pipe 
 
 Now honest Hughoc clinna fail 
 
 To tell my master a' my tale, 
 
 And bid him burn this cursed tether, 
 
 And for thy pains thou's get my blether. 
 
 This said, poor Mailie turned her head, 
 
 And closed her een amang the dead. 
 
 " The aukl Farmer's new year's salutation to his auld Mare 
 Maggie " is another of those poems in which Burns has 
 described the commonplace experiences of farm life with a 
 vividness and strength which give them an enduring 
 interest to everybody. The homeliness of his subjects reveals 
 the perfect truthfulness of his soul. He does not select the 
 distant and imposing; what lies at his feet, what comes 
 daily under his observation, even though it should only be 
 a wounded hare, a dying ewe, a timorous mouse, shivering 
 cattle, or frolicing dogs, is to him a subject of finest 
 inspiration. Such is his salutation to the auld grey mare. 
 We have seen with what kindly humour he perpetuated 
 the memory of poor Mailie. He does the same for his 
 mare Maggie. His descriptions are so perfect that they bring 
 the living scene before our eyes. We think we see him 
 entering the stable with the rip of corn in his hand, 
 speaking a kindly word, while Maggie responds with a 
 nicker of recognition and delight. As he looks at her 
 " howe back," her legs " stiff and crazy " that once could 
 have carried her " like ony staggie out owre the lay," her 
 " auld hide as white's a daisy," which used to be " dappl't, 
 sleek, and glazy, a bonny grey," his mind flies back over 
 the nine and twenty summers that have passed since his 
 father gave her to him; and as he recounts to himself her 
 faithful services he seems to live the memorable parts of 
 his life over again. Maggie is associated with all his toils 
 and anxieties and joys. When he first went to woo his 
 Jenny, she was trotting with her mother ; and when he 
 
212 THE REV. JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 had won her hand, Maggie was ready to bear her home, 
 and " pranced with muckle glee." At wedding races, 
 coming home from fair or market, she ne'er had a fellow 
 for pith and power, not even among the better breeds 
 
 The sma' droop-rumpled hunter cattle, 
 
 Might aiblins waur't thee for a brattle, 
 
 But sax Scotch miles thou try't their mettle, 
 An' gart them whaizle : 
 
 Nae whip nor spur, but just a wattle 
 O' saugh or hazel. 
 
 With what pride too does he mention her conduct in 
 plough and cart. In setting her face in the plough to 
 some furzy brae the sturdy old mare had the pluck of her 
 master, whose whole life was a kind of unequal struggle. 
 What can be finer than his description of this ? 
 
 Thou never braing't, an' fetch't, an' fliskit, 
 
 But thy auld tail thou wad hae whiskit, 
 
 An' spread abreed thy weel-fill'd brisket, 
 Wi' pith an' pow'r. 
 
 Till spritty knowes wad rair't and riskit, 
 
 An' slypet owre. 
 
 Or see again how he describes her setting her face to a 
 steep hill with a heavy load 
 
 In cart or car thou never reestit ; 
 
 The steyest brae thou wad hae face't it ; 
 
 Thou never lap, an' sten't, an' breastit, 
 Then stood to blaw. 
 
 But just thy step a wee thing hastit, 
 Thou snoov't awa. 
 
 He speaks to Maggie as if she were a human being, 
 and makes himself her true yoke fellow in all the 
 work of the farm. She shares his anxieties and 
 participates in the fruits of his toil. And what 
 will become of Maggie in her crazy age ? What will 
 the master do with the mare, auld, howe-backed, stiff- 
 legged, which, since the day she "pranced wi' muckle 
 pride" has served him twenty -nine summers, besides giving 
 
BURNS* SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 213 
 
 him the four gallant brutes which draw his plough, and 
 others which he has sold ? Let his own words testify 
 once more to his kindness of heart and teach us a lesson 
 in gratitude 
 
 And think iia' my auld trusty servan' 
 That now perhaps thou's less deservin', 
 And thy auld days may end in starvin', 
 
 For my last fou'. 
 
 A heapit stimpart I'll reserve ane 
 
 Laid by for you. 
 
 We've worn to crazy years thegither, 
 We'll toyte about wi' ane anither, 
 Wi' tentie care I'll fit thy tether 
 
 To some hain'd rig : 
 Whare ye may nobly rax your leather 
 
 Wi' sma' fatigue. 
 
 The last poem I shall notice contains the best specimen of 
 that characteristic in which Burns excels all other poets 
 the blending of humour and fancy. Its conception is one 
 of his happiest, its subject has not lost its interest, and its 
 style affords richer enjoyment the oftener it is read 
 
 T\va dogs that werna thraiig at hame 
 Forgatheroil ance upon a tinu. 
 
 Through these two dogs he interprets the lives, thoughts, 
 feelings, and manners of the Scottish peasantry as they had 
 iii'YiT biM'ii interpreted before and never can be again. 
 Tin- poem had its origin, like so many of the others in 
 an act of cruelty, to the lower creation. Someone had 
 wantonly killed his dog Luath, and the poet, who was 
 greatly attached to tin- animal, said (o his brother that he 
 >hoi,ld like to confer such immortality as he could bestow 
 0:1 hi> favourite. This he lias succeeded in doing beyond 
 his expectation. At the very time when the sad event 
 happened, heavier SO1TOW8 were weighing upon the spirit 
 of luirns. liimied out of his ilax-dressing shop in Irving, 
 ami left without a sixpence, he had returned to Lochlea to 
 
214 THE REV JOHN MAUCHLEN ON 
 
 find his father on his death bed. The old man's long 
 struggle with scanty means, barren soil, and bad seasons, 
 combined with the insolent, threatening letters of the factor, 
 which often set the whole family in tears, brought on 
 consumption, of which he died the night after poor Luath. 
 This suggested the form which the poem took. Csesar 
 (the creation of the poet's imagination) becomes the 
 exponent of the lives of lairds; and Luath of the lives of 
 the poor toiling cottars. In the very description he gives 
 of the two dogs so true to life that the lamented author 
 of " Rab and his Friends " never excelled it we cannot fail 
 to see the people whom they represent. Their peculiarities 
 are touched off in the most comical manner. And though 
 it is easy to see on which side the sympathy of Burns lies, 
 he makes Caesar a very likeable dog- 
 The fient a pride, nae pride had he. 
 
 When the dogs have wearied themselves worrying each 
 other in diversion, scouring about the knowes, and howking 
 mice and moudiworts, they sit down and begin moralizing 
 on their several lots. Yet in spite of all their serious 
 talk, their insight into the manners of man, and their long 
 accounts of the toiling yet contented peasants, or the idle, 
 unsatisfied, and sometimes foolish gentry, they do not cease 
 to be dogs ; they are true dogs in all their ways. I cannot 
 go into all they say with so much truthful humour of the 
 virtues and hardships of the poor, or the prosperity of the 
 rich with its accompanying faults and follies ; but an 
 example will suffice to show the intelligent grasp which 
 the brutes have of the things they discuss, or rather the 
 view which the poet took of them. Poor Luath, the 
 " faithfu' tyke " of the cottar, makes the factor referred to 
 sit for his portrait 
 
 There's nionie a creditable stock 
 O' decent, honest, fawsont folk, 
 Are riven out, baith root an' branch, 
 Some rascal's pridefu' greed to quench, 
 
BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWEK CREATION, 21.J 
 
 Wha' tliinks to knit himself the faster 
 In favour wi' some gentle mastar, 
 Wha, aibbins, timing a-parliamentin.' 
 
 Notice the kindly humour 
 
 For Britain's guid his soul iiidentm. ' 
 To which Csesar, the laird's dog, replies 
 
 Haith lad, ye little ken about it ; 
 
 For Britain's guid ! guid faith I doubt it ! 
 
 He at once seeks to open the eyes of the cottar's clog to 
 the real state of the case. He pictures their extravagant 
 pleasures, their gambling, masquerading, and mortgaging, 
 their dissipations in the fashionable continental cities, and 
 exclaims 
 
 For Britain's guid ! for her destruction ! 
 
 Wi' dissipation, feud, and faction. 
 
 Thus enlightened, Luath, with a kindly word for the 
 spendthrift gentry, as if they were more to be pitied than 
 blamed 
 
 Fient heat o' them's ill-hearted fellows 
 can only express his surprise at what he has heard 
 
 Hech man ! dear sirs, is that the gate 
 
 They waste sae mony a braw estate ? 
 
 Are we sae' foughteii and harassed 
 
 For gear to gang that gate at last ? 
 
 Ami so they go through the whole round of the 
 accompaniments of poverty and wealth ; and when the 
 conversation is ended you do not see men rise up and 
 part, but the same dogs which we saw " howking 
 moudiworts " at the beginning of the poem 
 
 I 1 1 they gat and shook their lugs, 
 
 Rejoiced they were na' men, but dogs ; 
 
 Ami i-.-u-li took oil" his several way, 
 
 Resolved to meet some other day. 
 
 Disordered as tlif>- remarks about Burns' sympathy 
 witli tli!- lower creation have been, and abrupt as is thrir 
 (.1M' ? I trust that \\ may be all the better for having had 
 our attention drawn to this feature in his character, and 
 
216 BURNS' SYMPATHY WITH THE LOWER CREATION. 
 
 for having heard something of the expression which he has 
 given to it in his poetry. If besides learning to be 
 merciful to the brute creation, and entering into the 
 enjoyment which Burns had in their companionship, they 
 awaken in us that serious though tf ulness which is exhibited 
 in the lines with which I close, it shall be well for us to 
 have had our hearts drawn out into sympathy with the 
 beasts that perish 
 
 But, mousie, tliou art no thy lane, 
 In proving foresight may be vain : 
 The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, 
 
 Gang aft a-gley, 
 An' lea'e us naught but grief an' pain, 
 
 For promis'd joy. 
 
 Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me ! 
 The present only toucheth thee : 
 But, och ! I backward cast my e'e 
 
 On prospects drear ! 
 An' forward, tho' I canna see, 
 
 I guess an' fear ! 
 
 November 20th, 1882 
 
" The liar Her Novels of George Eliot" 
 
 "Scenes of Clerical Life," "Adam Bede? " The Mill on the Floss," 
 
 and " Romola." 
 
 By MR. CHARLES AITKEN, 
 
 This paper was composed and read several months before the interesting 
 ' Gconje, Eliot, by her husband (Mr. Cross), was published. The writer, however, 
 does not think that any important modification is called for in consequence, as his state- 
 ments and opinions are merely continued by the complete and necessarily authentic 
 iiifiii-iaation which Mr. Cross has placed at the disposal of the public. It is also worthy 
 of note that a large portion of the earlier novels here reviewed were conceived and com- 
 posed by George Eliot during her lengthened residence at Parkshot, Richmond, Surrey. 
 This jiieat authoress entertained a steady and warm affection for Richmond and its environs, 
 with which she was thoroughly acquainted. 
 
 T is, I think, necessary for the purpose of this 
 paper, that a very imperfect sketch of Miss 
 Evans (better known as George Eliot) should 
 be prefixed. Naturally gifted with a mind of 
 exceptional capacity and vigour, she received an education 
 calculated to develope talents which have indelibly left 
 their mark on the literature of the present century at all 
 events, if indeed she may not claim to be permanently 
 placed on our shrives as an English classic of the first 
 rank. Personally I own to an rnllmsia>tic admiration for 
 ii'-arly all her writings, reserving a .special meed of praise 
 for those four earlier novels which form the subject matter 
 of this paper. I hope partially to justify this estimate 
 while bristly tracing tin- nature of the educational training 
 which -hi- received, and which was sufficiently remarkable 
 to call for a few pacing observations. If you examine 
 
218 MR. CHARLES A1TKEN ON 
 
 works of reference which profess to give an accurate 
 account of the lives of contemporary celebrities you will 
 find it stated that Marian Evans was the daughter of a 
 clergyman, and that upon his death she was adopted by a 
 brother cleric. I have recently learned, upon what I believe 
 to be indisputable authority, that this statement is quite 
 incorrect, as well as others to be found in the same 
 quarters in relation to the education which she received. 
 It is a great pity that erorrs like these are not promptly 
 and publicly corrected. The matter is of considerable 
 importance. The lives of distinguished authors possess 
 public interest and value, and misstatements with regard to 
 their parentage and education are certain to mislead those 
 who are striving to make an analytical study of their 
 writings. 
 
 The father of Miss Evans was a well-known land 
 steward, who raised himself to positions of trust in the 
 Midland Counties by the force and honesty of his character 
 attributes which he transmitted to his more gifted daughter. 
 She was educated at a school in Coventry, but the cast of 
 her mind, as evinced in her writings, received its impress 
 after she had left any purely educational establishment. 
 Considered by its results, this education was in its issue 
 decidedly masculine in its depth, range, and general 
 character. As I have already said, naturally gifted with a 
 mind strong, logical, and yet withal sensitive, her training 
 admirably served to develope and bring to fruition this 
 unusual combination of qualities. We shall presently see 
 what special influence had been brought to bear upon this 
 rich natural soil, and we shall thus obtain the clue to the 
 power of concentrated thought, and to the capacity for 
 treating subjects which are usually regarded as the province 
 of men as distinguished from women, which so markedly 
 characterise all George Eliot's writings. This peculiarity in 
 the case of her best known work (Adam Eede) completely 
 
THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 210 
 
 deceived the critics, many of whom refused to believe the 
 sex of the author, even after the dispute had been definitely 
 settled. And yet despite this capacity for treating her 
 subject matter from the male point of view, she by no 
 means lost those qualities of mind by which women are 
 wont to show their superior delicacy and refinement. For 
 while the controversy with regard to the sex of George 
 Eliot was being keenly waged far and wide, Charles 
 Dickens cleverly laid his finger on the well-known scene of 
 Hetty Sorrel before the looking glass, and said " That 
 could only be written by a woman." 
 
 Now what was this school of thought and educational 
 training which moulded the mind of this great authoress ? 
 It was the influence and society of men like Mr. George 
 Lewes, Mr. Herbert Spencer, and Mr. John Stuart Mill. 
 To them undoubtedly she was indebted for much of that 
 unwonted breadth and depth of conception, for that 
 accuracy and conciseness of expression, as well as for her 
 knowledge of German philosophy, and of the ancient and 
 modern European classics in the original. But unfortunately, 
 in addition to all this, she received from .the same source 
 that peculiar creed or negation of all creeds which is called 
 agnosticism. Her earlier novels, and particularly the first 
 of these, were evidently written before these tenets were 
 thoroughly incorporated into her mind, and they are in my 
 opinion consequently much more wholesome and pleasant. 
 Although the leaven had already begun to work, her 
 youthful I'lv.shn-'ss ivjretrd much of the morbid poison 
 proll'ered to hrr, and sh<> was unable to deny that that 
 very uns--! fish ness for the sake of humanity which Mr. 
 Sprnerr cultivated, and which commended it-self to her own 
 mind a> tin- highest of all aspirations, found its most 
 
 lactory exposition in the life of Jesus Christ, .reflected 
 in tin- >ini|lr. Mined, sell -.sacrificing r.\i>tnice led by many 
 Kn--li>h country clergymen with whom >he w.is luought in 
 
220 MR. CHARLES AITKEN 
 
 contact. I have been told that at the very last her mind 
 reverted to much the same position which she at this time 
 held, and that just prior to her death her favourite reading 
 was the well known Imitation of Ckrist, by Thomas 
 a Kempis. But her later works give no evidence of this, 
 save and except that the necessity of unselfishness and 
 self-sacrifice to obtain true sublimity of thought and life is 
 never lost sight of. But beyond this all is a dreary blank. 
 It is ceaseless work, without hope of reward, and without 
 any prospect of a future state which we are called upon to 
 believe is the true creed of humanity. Perhaps it would 
 not be erroneous to assert that she had, despite her 
 philosophical and logical training, attempted to solve the 
 unsolvable, and resented the rebuff she consequently 
 received. She wanted to understand, and perchance explain 
 upon a basis of pure reason, such mysteries as the origin of 
 evil, the object of pain, the immortality of the soul, the 
 ultimate destiny of man, and kindred problems which have 
 always baffled the profoundest thinkers; and enthusiastic as 
 I am in my admiration for George Eliot, I am obliged to 
 confess that her final condition as exhibited in her writings 
 was a most derogatory conclusion for a great mind to reach. 
 It seems as if, like the rest of the agnostic school, she finally 
 resolved to enter upon a condition of intellectual and moral 
 " sulks," and because she could not know everything she 
 was determined to say she knew nothing a mental state 
 which is by no means indicative of real humility, but 
 seems rather the sorry outcome of wounded vanity. 
 
 And now, without further preface, I propose to review 
 rapidly four of the earlier works of Miss Evans, in which, 
 in my opinion, the authoress is seen at her best. These 
 are Scenes of Clerical Life, Admit, Rede, The Mill on tlte 
 Floss, and Romola. Properly speaking I ought to include 
 as belonging to this period of George Eliot's literary 
 history Silas Marner, but the works selected afford <i more 
 
THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 221 
 
 than sufficient field for criticism in the comparatively short 
 time necessarily available. In point of conception Scenes 
 of Clerical Life is undoubtedly the weakest perhaps of any 
 of George Eliot's great works, but it is deeply interesting 
 as being practically the dawn of her literary career. Besides, 
 in addition to the incisive aphorisms and original proverbs, 
 which are part and parcel of the author's habitual style, 
 there are numerous passages which evince more than merely 
 budding talent, as well as a quick and keen recognition of 
 the dramatic incidents common even in the humblest rural 
 life apparent enough at all events to the penetrating eye 
 of genius. And yet, withal, it is made sufficiently clear 
 that those disturbances in the even tenour of the way serve 
 not merely and primarily as foils to commonplace detail, 
 but as leaving behind them hidden and far reaching effects, 
 whereby each little life is made instinct with human 
 passion and struggle, and thereby raised to an ideal level 
 full of deep and great lessons even to those who occupy a 
 loftier atmosphere. I have already said that this first work 
 exhibits the mental position of the authoress, and it also 
 reflects life in the Midland Counties in which her early 
 days had been spent, and with which she was naturally 
 thoroughly conversant. 
 
 Where, as is the case in the second of these tales 
 (" Mr. GilfiTs Love Story "), what may be termed an 
 unfamiliar foreign element is introduced in the person of the 
 impulsive Italian Caterina, the result is not satisfactory; 
 there is a felt incongruity; and it is with a sense of relief 
 that in "Janet's Repentance" we once more find ourselves in 
 the company of homely villagers, even though the story is 
 still more painful than either of its predecessors. The first 
 of these, the " Sad misfortunes of Amos Barton," is, I think, 
 the best of the three ; the conclusion especially being full of 
 sustained power and pathos. The accumulating sorrows of 
 the unhappy man, though partly arising from his own 
 
222 MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 stupidity and silly belief in an adventuress, sustains the 
 interest and sympathy of the reader, and though the melan- 
 choly end is in perfect unison with the natural course of 
 events, there is an uncontrollable feeling of regret that " a 
 happier issue out of all his afflictions " had not been found 
 practicable. The relations, divergences, and feuds between 
 Church and Dissent, a subject which recurs again and again 
 in subsequent novels, are here also lightly but cleverly 
 etched ; and the merits and defects of both parties are 
 treated with a calm analysis and freedom from prejudice 
 eminently creditable, and affords a significant proof of a 
 judicial temperament not usually associated with the female 
 mind. The fortunes of Mr. Barton's wife are even sadder than 
 his own. It is the record of a gentle, loving woman literally 
 worn to death by ever-increasing cares, ceaseless drudgery, 
 and semi-unconscious marital neglect. It is, indeed, a dreary 
 story. Even when the curtain of sorrow is lifted, it is only 
 to descend with a yet blacker gloom. The sorrows of Amos 
 have at last touched the hearts of his unsympathetic 
 parishioners, there seems a prospect of rest after infinite 
 pain, and then a severance is at once rudely effected between 
 the hearts thus happily united, and Amos is driven into 
 the wilderness no longer consoled and cheered by the presence 
 of his hapless wife. A partial connection between this 
 tale and the history of the Rev. Mr. Gilfil is effected by the 
 re-introduction of some of the surbordinate characters, but 
 the scenes are now laid in more aristocratic quarters. The 
 date is 1788, and there are some characteristic touches which 
 correspond with actual history; for example, the incidental 
 mention of the Rev. Mr. Gilfil forgeting to take off his 
 spurs before putting on his surplice, and the comical 
 consequences on his way from the vestry to the reading 
 desk. The rev. gentleman is also stated to have enjoyed 
 a complete immunity from criticism by his congregation, a 
 state of matters which the modern pastor doubtless longs 
 
THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 
 
 to revive, and must regard with pangs of unbounded regret 
 and envy. In the heroine Caterina we have the first 
 inkling of Italian character which evidently had already 
 fascinated George Eliot's mind, and which found its later 
 and perfect development in the pages of Romola. The 
 story of Mr. Gilfil is faulty in construction, but redeemed 
 by fine passages, such as that in which he is trying to 
 soothe Caterina's mind, burdened with the sense of an 
 intended but unexecuted crime. She has made full con- 
 fession, and Mr. Gilfil thus presents her conduct for her own 
 consideration in a fresh and comforting light 
 
 My Tina, we mean to do wicked things, that we never could 
 do, just as we mean to do good or clever things that we never 
 could do. Our thoughts are often worse than we are, just as they 
 are often better than we are. And God sees us as we are 
 altogether, not in separate feelings or actions as our fellow men 
 see us. We are always doing each other injustice, and thinking 
 better or worse of each other than we deserve, because we only 
 hear and see separate words and actions. We don't see each 
 other's whole nature, but God does. 
 
 I think tKese observations are full of deep and 
 pregnant thought and appeal to our highest feelings. In 
 the last story, ; ' Janet's Repentance," we have brought before 
 us, in the opening chapter, portraits of the chief male 
 inhabitants of a typical country town called Milby. It 
 is a summer evening, and the mixed company are 
 enjoying themselves in their wonted fashion at the bar 
 of the " Red Lion." The coarse humour and the hard- 
 featured aspect of life reflected by the speakers is 
 admirably pourtrayed. The dogmatic ignorance displayed 
 by Lawyer Dempster in assertive tones, assisted by 
 considerable powers of rough sarcasm, is always sufficient 
 to browbeat the better informed members of the company 
 and turn the laugh in his favour. The nature of the 
 conversation, tinged with local religious politics, out of 
 compliment to the churchwardens present, is true to the 
 
224 MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 life. It is difficult to understand how a refined female 
 mind, like that of Miss Evans, had sufficient knowledge to 
 depict a conversation like this with such realism. The 
 chief interest centres in the new evangelical curate, Mr. 
 Tryan, and Jan ^t Dempster, the aforesaid lawyer's ill-used 
 wife. I note in passing that the curates' new fangled 
 notions which aroused the hostility of a large portion of 
 his parishioners are such as would now characterise almost 
 every section of the Christian Church in this country a 
 striking proof of how evangelical doctrine in some respects 
 has leavened the whole lump. I extract one sentence from 
 this work which gives a clue to subsequent creations and 
 opinions. It is an ordinary Milby dinner party, and the 
 gentlemen are stated "to fall into no excess, except the 
 perfectly well-bred and virtuous excess of stupidity." 
 Altogether the so-called lords of creation get a rough 
 time of it at the hands of Miss Evans, while grandeur and 
 nobility of character, and ideal self-sacrifice, find their 
 exposition or transcendent realization in the persons of 
 Milly Barton, Janet Dempster, Dinah Morris, Maggie 
 Tulliver, and Romola. The authoress evidently thinks in 
 the words of the hymn " that only man is vile." 
 
 We now enter upon a most imperfect notice of that 
 work of George Eliot which is generally regarded by both 
 the critics and the reading public as undoubtedly the best 
 Ada in Eede. This volume, issued anonymously, at once 
 placed the writer in the foremost rank of nineteenth 
 century novelists. To read it is to admire. The critic is 
 apt to become a mere exponent of its beauties. I can only 
 mention one or two salient features which it is impossible 
 to ignore. The story is so well known that it is needless 
 even to indicate the plot ; but the absorbed reader may 
 perhaps fail to notice the rythmical cadence of the sentences, 
 especially when the ordinary sylvan loveliness of English 
 rural scenes appears to inspire the author with an almost 
 
THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 225 
 
 poetic form of expression. Almost poetic did I say ? Why 
 there is more genuine poetry to be found in this and some 
 of her subsequent prose works than in the great mass of 
 those professedly poetical productions which secure in this 
 age of shams hosts of sickly admirers. I love to dwell 
 on this harmony with nature in one of its most quietly 
 beautiful aspects which is so prominently brought before 
 us in the pages of Adam Bede. From the very com- 
 mencement the sweet aroma of country life pervades and 
 satisfies our senses, whether we haunt the carpenter's shop. 
 where the newly cut shavings scent the air with a clean 
 freshness, or saunter along the hedgerows with the charming 
 Hetty, whose memory, despite, or perhaps in consequence of 
 the weakness of her nature, is especially dear to the male 
 reader. The mere recital of the names of the principal 
 actors in this life's drama is sufficient to demonstrate 
 that Miss Evans has given us from the rich storehouse 
 of her mind, in this one brief volume, at least five 
 characters which ought to live as long as the English 
 tongue lasts. Adam Bede, Dinah Morris, Hetty Sorrel, 
 Mrs. Poys<T, and Mr. Irwine are at once genuine creations 
 and portraits of real life. In later works, Adam Bede 
 degenerates into Felix Holt, a palpably overdrawn picture 
 of the superior working man, Mrs. Poyser merges into 
 Mrs. Tulliver, and thereby loses what the Americans would 
 happily term most of her "grit," and similar parallels 
 might easily be instanced; but in Adam Bede we have the 
 whole of those original conceptions depieted in perfectly 
 fivsh colours, and drawn with a bold unfaltering hand, 
 conscious of its po\ver. I have only space for three brief 
 sentences, replete with reality, simplicity, and force. The 
 scene is the Pos-'i's' fanihouse 
 
 You might have known it was Sunday if you had only waked 
 up in the farmyard. The c->cks and liens .seemed to know it and 
 inadt- only rn><'iiiii<4 subdued noises ; the very bull dog looked less 
 
 Q 
 
226 MR. CHARLES AITKEN OX 
 
 savage, as if he would have been satisfied with a smaller bite than 
 usual ; the sunshine seemed to call all things to rest and not to labour ; 
 it was asleep itself on the moss-grown cowshed ; on the group of 
 white ducks nestling together with their bills tucked under their 
 wings ; on the old black sow stretched languidly on the straw, while 
 her largest young one found an excellent spring bed on his mother's 
 fat ribs ; and on Alick, the farm shepherd, in his new smock frock, 
 taking an uneasy siesta, half sitting, half standing, on the granary steps. 
 But time presses, and I hasten to consider the third 
 volume on our list, The Mill on the Floss. By some this 
 novel is regarded as superior to Adam Bede. A special 
 interest has been attached to it by a current belief that 
 the heroine, Maggie Tulliver, is in reality the expression of 
 Miss Evans' inner self. It may be so ; but I do not approve 
 of thus identifying an authoress or author with her or 
 his creations without their direct permission. At best 
 such a proceeding invests a work with a spurious interest, 
 extraneous to its actual merits, the proper subject matter 
 of the critic. And I cannot admit that The Mill on the 
 Floss is superior or even as good as Adam Bede, though 
 possibly it contains more subtle touches of insight into the 
 heart and mind, especially at the earlier stages of human 
 existence, in which the authoress breaks comparatively 
 fresh ground. I use the word " comparatively " advisedly. 
 For George Eliot already, in a bright little episode, in 
 which Parson Gilfil poked gentle jokes at little Tommy 
 Bond, as well as in the brief treatment of poor Milly 
 Barton's children, had given evidence of an accurate know- 
 ledge of child life, which is more fully developed in 
 The Mill on the Floss and in Silas Marner. Indeed this 
 sympathetic treatment of children is a special beauty of 
 all Miss Evans' works, though she herself never became a 
 mother. It always appears to me that The Mill on the 
 Floss is not written with the easy unconsciousness of Adam 
 Bede. This was to be expected. Miss Evans now stood 
 revealed before the reading public, her nom de plume 
 
THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 227 
 
 practically discarded. And, doubtless, she felt oppressed 
 by the knowledge that she had a reputation to sustain 
 and, if possible, increase. Hence the story assumes a more 
 didactic form than previous efforts, and the "morals" are 
 more clearly indicated and inculcated. The disastrous 
 results of a litigious spirit are worked out remorselessly 
 in the person of Mr. Tulliver. The country lawyer, already 
 held up to scorn from the high moral point of view, in 
 the person of Mr. Dempster, receives again a severe handling 
 in Mr. Wakem ; but I can only account for the tragic end 
 of Tom and Maggie (for nothing in the plot demands their 
 terrible fate) upon the assumption that the authoress felt 
 that she had made her hero prosaically and stupidly 
 impracticable, and her heroine imaginatively and impulsively 
 impracticable, and that the only way to deal with such 
 people was to kill them in their youthful prime in order 
 to prevent as little trouble as possible to the world in 
 general. While thus expressing my opinion roundly on 
 the work, I cannot in common justice fail to point out 
 that in one respect the authoress has made better attempts 
 at humour in The Mill on the Floss than in any of her 
 other productions. The whole chapter relating to the visit 
 at " Garum Firs " is excellent fooling, especially where Mrs. 
 Pullet and Mrs. Tulliver reveal their inmost feelings and 
 homely aspirations. I- may remark en passant that here, as 
 elsewhere, the humour of George Eliot is generally tinged 
 with sat i iv. You laugh at, not with, the sympathies of 
 IHT creations ; in fact it is scarcely too much to say that 
 she labours to excite very frequently either good-humoured 
 or contemptuous pity, which sometimes accompanies the 
 risible emotions, and thereby effects a species of indirect 
 ilattery of the reader's superior intelligence, doubtless very 
 gratifying to his vanity. In the earlier chapters the thoughts 
 and tendencies of Tom and Maggie are described with the 
 accuracy derived only from careful study of child life, 
 
228 MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 and their subsequent characters are in perfect consonance 
 with these indications. Tom's review of his actions 
 throughout life were summed up in " under similar circum- 
 stances I would just do the same again"; while Maggie's 
 introspection always resulted in "a hopeless aspiration that 
 she had done precisely the opposite of that she did do." 
 These antagonistic mental attitudes furnish the key to most 
 characters and dispositions to an extent in my opinion far 
 beyond what is commonly supposed. 
 
 Just one more thought. George Eliot's illustrations 
 derived from familiar objects are in many instances ex- 
 ceedingly good, e.g., when after contrasting the respective 
 dispositions of Tom Tulliver and Philip Wakem she concludes 
 by saying " If boys and men are to be welded together in 
 the glow of transient feeling, they must be made of metal 
 that will mix, else they inevitably fall asunder when the 
 heat dies out." Note the limitation to "boys and men." 
 The author had long ago noticed that this observation 
 would not apply to men and ivomen or even to boys and 
 girls. 
 
 We have now to attempt in conclusion a brief review 
 of Romola. It is possible that to those (if there be any here) 
 who think that criticism should be synonymous with 
 censure, my warm praises of Adam Bede were somewhat 
 extravagant. The observations I have, to offer upon Romola 
 will seem still more unnecessarily eulogistic. I cannot help 
 that, however. Indeed, it is to me a pleasure, as refreshing 
 as it is unwonted, to hymn thus lustily the praises of any 
 modern writer. In one respect, indeed, Romola is inferior 
 to most of George Eliot's writings, inasmuch as the 
 clever satiric epigrams, to which I have previously alluded, 
 are less freely interspersed ; but for the following reasons 
 I am disposed to place Romola upon the highest niche 
 in the temple of literary fame reared by the genius of 
 George Eliot. In the first place, the scene of the story 
 
THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 229 
 
 Florence was untrodden ground, unfamiliar to one 
 whose life had hitherto been mainly spent in rural 
 England. The local colouring which has imparted the 
 vividness of real life to the narratives of Romola and 
 Tito, of Tessa and Mona Brigida, of Baldassare and 
 Savonarola, was the result of patient study on the spot. 
 And those who are well acquainted with this picturesque 
 and interesting city are agreed that nothing can surpass 
 the skill with which the surroundings of the characters 
 are depicted, so as to serve as a bold yet unobtrusive 
 background. Miss Evans never descends to mere word 
 painting to conceal the meagreness of the human portraiture. 
 There is sufficient no more to enable the reader to breathe 
 the atmosphere of old Florence, and feel the throb of the 
 old world life at one of its most stirring periods. And this 
 naturally leads me to say in the second place that the period 
 of the story necessarily involved a most powerful exercise of 
 the imagination, greater far than most of George Eliot's 
 previous or subsequent efforts. The manners, customs, tricks 
 of speech, religious and moral tone of different degrees of 
 society, the intricacies of political life at a time of confusion, 
 transition, and general excitement had to be interwoven with 
 the lives of a small circle to w T hich the authoress, with ex- 
 emplary self-control, confined herself, so as not to impair the 
 due balance between national and public and individual and 
 private fortunes. This too has been accomplished to the 
 satisfaction of the severest critics. And yet withal Romola 
 has never been a very popular work, probably the chief 
 reason being that most English readers prefer a story the 
 sc.'iKjry of which is laid in their own country. The 
 occasional interjection of foreign exclamations, possibly un- 
 translatable without greatly impairing the original force, is 
 as a rule resented. And there are other reasons which 
 hrlpi'd them to comprehend this lack of popularity. One of 
 the principal characters Tito is a most unpleasant study, 
 
230 MR. CHARLES AITKEN ON 
 
 redeemed though he be from any lack of interest in his 
 delineation by the subtle analysis of his moral and 
 intellectual tendencies. Nowhere else, so far as I am aware, 
 have the ruinous consequences of shirking unpleasant duties 
 been traced to their legitimate issue with such terrible 
 logical force. The gay, debonair, pleasure-loving Tito 
 works out the favourite theory of the authoress " that we 
 prepare ourselves for sudden deeds, by the reiterated choice 
 of good or evil, that gradually determines characters." 
 Again and again Tito " chooses the evil rather than the 
 good" in an ascending scale of vice, mean in its inception, 
 meaner still in its execution ; and his terrible fate is perused 
 without eliciting a spark of sympathy from the most tender- 
 hearted reader. Again, to the male mind, Romola seems 
 at times needlessly irritating. She is, indeed, essentially a 
 woman s heroine. A woman who prefers a library and a 
 few old statues, suffused with the memory of her defunct 
 father, to the really not very unreasonable aspirations of a 
 living husband, ought never to have entered upon that 
 matrimonial estate elsewhere described in this same work 
 as being for a woman " the deepest secret of human 
 blessedness." It may cut to the quick modern enthusiasts 
 for the " higher education," but it is a truism that, with 
 very rare exceptions, an extremely intellectual woman does 
 not make a very good or very happy wife. If she could 
 have told another tale George Eliot would have done so. 
 Her own marriage was probably a mere intellectual 
 arrangement in mature years. In Romola, in perfect accord 
 with real life, the baby-faced Tessa, whose mind was simply 
 a blank trustfulness, managed Tito with unconscious ability, 
 while the high-souled Romola acted as a goad to impel 
 him to ruin. Baldassare is a powerful creation, but his 
 intervention at critical points is sometimes highly im- 
 probable. Savonarola is on the other hand portrayed w T ith 
 intense sympathy and pathos, and his influence over Romola 
 
THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 231 
 
 is in perfect consonance with what usually occurs when a 
 romantic girl comes in contact with a religious enthusiast. 
 The utter forgiveness of Romola to the usurper of her 
 husband's affections is really too beautiful in its conception 
 and delineation to elicit even the mild censure that it 
 borders on the transcendental. As a whole, I consider 
 Romola the culminating point of George Eliot's greatness. 
 The passage is too long to quote now, but especially 
 beautiful is the dramatic transition from the turmoil and 
 bloodshed of distracted Florence to the peaceful waking of 
 Romola in her fisherman's boat, which has drifted from the 
 turbulent city to the blue waters of the Mediterranean, calm 
 and bright with morning light. 
 
 In conclusion, I contend that the qualities of mind 
 exhibited by Miss Evans in those works thus cursorily 
 reviewed are altogether exceptional in female writers, and 
 that but few male authors can be placed on a par with 
 her. Her combination of merits is unique. The wisdom of 
 the serpent in worldly matters does not prevent her 
 evincing the most intimate knowledge of the highest forms 
 of religious enthusiasm, and it is difficult to say whether 
 her male or her female characters exhibit best her capacity 
 I'm- penetrating the hidden motives of the human heart. 
 The main theory of life which she emphasises is that 
 which naturally occured to a philosophical and logical mind. 
 But I am not altogether sure if it is correct. Retributive 
 justice, the consequences of folly, or wisdom, are not always 
 so apparent or so remorseless in their inevitable outcome as 
 Mi>s Evans would teach us to believe; nor do individuals 
 always perpetrate sudden deeds which decide their destiny 
 in consequence of reiterated choices which lead to those 
 fateful issues. Not unfrequently it is rebellions against our 
 piwious habits and training, springing from hasty impulses, 
 which serve to alter the whole current of our lives. Were 
 we all to act in logical sequences, as Miss Evans appears to 
 
232 THE EARLIER NOVELS OF GEORGE ELIOT. 
 
 think we do, the great difficulty of wise men, what will 
 the fools do ? would be solved. But alas, every man 
 contains many men, every woman many women, and the 
 merest caprice frequently decides what man or what woman 
 they will choose for the nonce to represent. " All the 
 world's a stage and all the men and women merely players." 
 A permanent moan of sadness dominates the whole aspect 
 of human affairs as it appeared to George Eliot. In her 
 later life the minor strains became harsh discords. Her 
 belief in a future state entirely vanished, and existence 
 became a dreary drudgery of duty never performed to her 
 entire satisfaction. Into this wilderness the limitation of 
 our subject fortunately prevents us entering. We prefer to 
 think of this remarkable woman chiefly in connection with 
 that instinctive and fervid love of English rural life and 
 character which she so admirably portrayed throughout 
 her various works ; or perhaps still more, as she penned for 
 the lasting enjoyment of her countrymen beneath a sunny 
 southern sky the great story of Romola, the record of a 
 woman made all but perfect through suffering, without 
 which it has been decreed that no flesh shall attain the 
 highest altitudes of mental and moral sublimity. 
 
 November Jrd, 1884. 
 
The Lunacy Laws'' 
 
 By MR. THOMAS SKEWES-COX 
 
 HE subject of the paper I have the honour 
 to road to you this evening is one not only 
 of great interest, but is one of paramount 
 importance to all here assembled, as it deals 
 with the liberty of the subject. "Liberty," as you know, 
 is the watchword of every Englishman, and what men and 
 women of this country have jealously guarded since the 
 signing of the Magna Charta. The subject is too large 
 to fully discuss in one paper, and I shall therefore chiefly 
 confine my remarks to one division of it. Under the 
 present Lunacy Laws the insane are divided into three 
 classes, namely: 1, criminal lunatics; 2, pauper lunatics; 
 3, private lunatics. Although there is much to be said as 
 to the adminstration of these laws in reference to the two 
 first divisions, it is to the last class those known as 
 private patients, in connection with private asylums and 
 licensed houses that I purpose mainly directing your 
 attention this evening. 
 
 The objects to be attained by the passing of Lunacy 
 Laws are threefold. 1. That it should not be possible to 
 incarcerate sane persons in asylums as insane ; that no one 
 should be liable to be treated as a lunatic without the 
 most searching enquiry, conducted in public and by a 
 competent judicial officer, so as to preclude the possibility 
 of fraud, accident, or mistake. 2. That no person should be 
 detained after he or she has become sane. 3. Considerate 
 
234 MR. THOMAS SKEWES-COX ON 
 
 and gentle treatment for those most miserable of our fellow 
 creatures the inmates of lunatic asylums. 
 
 Are these objects attained under the administration of 
 the present Lunacy Laws ? I contend they are not. Cases 
 come almost daily before the public shewing these objects 
 have apparently in many instances not even been in view, 
 much less attained, and it is to my mind most essential 
 that sufficient public interest should be awakened, in order 
 that the laws may be amended without further delay. 
 Under the Lunacy Laws dealing with private patients, any 
 registered medical practitioner, in actual practice, is held 
 competent to give a certificate of lunacy. Any person 
 whatever who can obtain two such certificates against 
 
 O 
 
 another may order in writing that individual's incarceration 
 in any proprietory asylum or place of detention for 
 lunatics that he pleases. No claims of relationship or 
 affection give a right of access to a person alleged lunatic 
 under certificates. As a matter of fact, no alleged lunatic 
 can, save surreptitiously, send a letter to any person not 
 approved of by the incarcerator, and no penalty is attached 
 to the detention of a patient, indefinitely, after recovery. 
 The power of prosecuting for breaches of Lunacy Law is 
 vested exclusively in the Lunacy Commissioners and the 
 Attorney General; but until recently they have seldom 
 prosecuted for such offences. Happily, however, they appear 
 to be rousing themselves to their important functions and 
 powers on this head, for I observed a short time since that 
 in one case they took proceedings against a medical man 
 for contraventions of the Act for the regulation of the care 
 and treatment of lunatics by unlawfully receiving two or 
 more lunatics into his house without procuring the 
 necessary license. The proceedings were instituted under the 
 Act 8 and 9 Vic., cap. 100, which expressly enacts that it 
 is a misdemeanour for any person to receive two or more 
 inmates in a house not duly licensed for the reception of 
 
THE LUNACY LAWS. 
 
 235 
 
 lunatics. The prosecuting counsel stated that the facts of 
 the case were that the defendant had received into his 
 house a lady who had been duly certified to be a lunatic. 
 After she had been received into the defendant's house he 
 received another patient who was not certified to be a 
 lunatic. The matter, however, became known to the 
 Commissioners, and an order was obtained from the Lord 
 Chancellor authorizing a doctor to visit the house in 
 order to institute inquiries as to the sanity of the second 
 patient confined there. He attended and saw the lady 
 referred to, and found two other ladies who were stated 
 to be lodging there. In a room upstairs he found a 
 gentleman in bed, who was, according to the visiting 
 doctor's report, evidently of unsound mind, and it was 
 proposed to found the prosecution on these two cases, in 
 order that it might be known what the law on the 
 subject was. I think, however, the Commissioners need 
 be under no apprehension as to the state of the law 
 with regard to the confinement and detention of patients 
 'without the so-called certificate. Although the law declares 
 all false statements in medical reports in lunacy cases to 
 constitute misdemeanours, yet all such reports are held 
 by the Commissioners to be confidential communications, 
 and unless an action at law compels their production as 
 evidence, neither during confinement nor after release can a 
 patient learn whether the reports sent in concerning him 
 are true or false. 
 
 I do not for one moment intend, during the short time 
 now at my disposal, to harrow the feelings of the members 
 of the Athemuum with a recital of the acts of cruelty 
 affirmed to be practised at times upon patients alleged to 
 be insane. It is enough for me to point out the facilities 
 given for depriving a person of his or her liberty; and 
 then, if possible, to endeavour to suggest a remedy by 
 which the motives and actions of interested would-be 
 
236 MR. THOMAS SKEWES-COX ON 
 
 inearcerators may be frustrated. Any person who may 
 desire to incarcerate another has simply to get certificates 
 from two medical men, sign the order or even get a 
 servant to sign it and forthwith the unfortunate victim is 
 hurried off to a madhouse, with no means of communi- 
 cating with friends, and no one, however near or dear, can 
 call at the madhouse and insist upon seeing the victim, 
 except by the permission of the interested incarcerator. 
 Neither the patient nor anyone else on his behalf, except 
 the signer of the order, can as a matter of course see the 
 order or certificates, or even know the general grounds of 
 his incarceration till after the patient's release, when he or 
 she is entitled to a copy of both order and certificates. It 
 may be asked " Why should anyone desire to shut up a 
 friend or relative unless there be a necessity for so doing " ? 
 But it is no use blinding our eyes to the fact that there 
 are causes or incentives such as in the cases of greed or 
 desire to acquire pecuniary or other benefits that may 
 follow the removal of a relative ; a wish to prevent an 
 objectionable marriage, or children being born of such a 
 marriage ; where parish authorities desire to get rid of a 
 troublesome inhabitant, as in the case of Mrs. Girling, of 
 Shaker celebrity; to prevent threatened proceedings in the 
 Divorce Court; or where a person is spending money on 
 some particular object in opposition to the wishes of his or 
 her relatives. Under the present laws too much is done in 
 secret ; inquiries, orders, medical certificates, reports, all are 
 privileged, and the Commissioners can release or retain 
 any case coming before them, and need give no reason for 
 so doing. 
 
 To shew the comparative ease with which anyone can 
 be deprived by another of liberty, with a minimum risk of 
 an action at law, I will briefly run over the usual method 
 of procedure. For some reason A wishes to shut up B in 
 an asylum. He makes out the order, gets two medical 
 
THE LUX AC Y LAWS. 237 
 
 certificates, and the deed is done. B, possibly a nervous, 
 hysterical woman, is forthwith captured and placed under 
 the control of the proprietor of the asylum ; but with what 
 result to B ? The Lewes case was one in which the 
 procedure under the statute 16 and 17 Vic., cap. 97, 
 providing for the arrest and detention of pauper lunatics, 
 was put in motion last November, for the purpose of 
 incarcerating a gentleman of independent means. What 
 happened was stated to be this : The gentleman in question 
 was in the Fitzroy Library, at Lewes, and sat in the 
 private room, to which there was a glass door. Shortly after 
 a medical man came in and spoke to him, but in no way 
 examined him, and remained only a few minutes. The two 
 justices, whose certificate was also necessary under this 
 statute, saw him through the glass door of the library, but 
 had no interview with him, and this constituted the only 
 examination that took place, but the certificates given were 
 sufficient to obtain the removal of the poor gentleman to 
 the County Lunatic Asylum as a pauper lunatic. He was 
 subsequently transferred to St. Luke's Asylum, where he 
 was examined and at once discharged. Upon hearing 
 this case, Mr. Justice Grove remarked that it seemed 
 almost incredible that two gentlemen should say that 
 they had examined a man as a lunatic when they had only 
 seen him through a glass door; but Baron Huddlestone 
 added that " his learned brother spoke with the innocence 
 of inexperience, as he had found from experience the 
 greatest carelessness in signing documents of this kind." 
 
 Have any of you ever visited an asylum ? Can you 
 realize what it is to be taken by force and shut up with 
 mad people ? What effect do you suppose this sudden 
 capture and imprisonment with lunatics has on a nervous, 
 sensitive person? I will, in reply, quote from the Blue 
 Book what Doctor Mortimer Granville said before the 
 Select Committee a few years since. Doctor Granville 
 
238 MR. THOMAS SKEWES-COX ON 
 
 is one who has made mental diseases a lifelong study, 
 and is one of the great authorities of the day on these 
 subjects. 
 
 Question 8,857. You mean that a sane person in an asylum, 
 subjected to the treatment which is ordered for the insane, would 
 suffer very much from it? Answer. Very seriously. 
 
 Question 8,858. In what particular points? Answer. I think first 
 of all the association, in large dormitories and in large day rooms, 
 with persons who are in a state of perpetual excitement, not only 
 increases the excitement of the insane, but would be almost sure to 
 upset the mind of a sane person thrown into the midst of such a 
 company. 
 
 Question 8,859. Taking an excitable or eccentric person whose 
 mind was not of the strongest, you think that that would be sufficient 
 to upset it altogether ? Answer. In a very short time, a very few 
 hours by that I mean 24 or 36 hours, and so on. 
 
 There is one lady who has certainly done the State 
 some service in this matter, although the frequency of 
 her presence in our law courts is no doubt somewhat 
 annoying to other suitors who have claims upon the 
 attention of our judges. Mrs. Weldon has convinced 
 everybody, judges, jury, and the general public alike, that 
 a reform of our Lunacy Laws is urgently required. The 
 case Weldon v. Winslow brought prominently before the 
 public the question of the certificates to which I have 
 referred. Baron Huddlestone said 
 
 I must express my astonishment that such a state of things 
 can exist ; that an order may be made by anybody on the statement 
 of anybody, and that two gentlemen, if they have only obtained a 
 diploma, provided they examine a patient separately and are not 
 related to a keeper of a lunatic asylum, can commit any person to a 
 lunatic asylum. It is somewhat startling it is positively shocking 
 that a pauper, or, as Mrs. Weldon puts it, a crossing-sweeper may 
 sign an order and another crossing-sweeper should make a statement, 
 and then two medical men, who would for a small sum of money 
 grant their certificate, may do so, and the person may be lodged 
 in a private asylum, and that this order, and this statement, and these 
 certificates are a perfect answer to any action. 
 
THE LUNACY LAWS. 239 
 
 Mr. Justice Manisty on appeal in this said : 
 
 This was one of the most important cases that had come before 
 them for many years, and I think that it involves considerations such 
 as had not perhaps been considered as involved either during the trial 
 or during the argument in that court. It was a case that involved 
 the liberty of the subject under most extraordinary circumstances, 
 and no doubt as regarded the individual who was about to be 
 consigned to a lunatic asylum it was a most momentous question. 
 It was not a question of mere unsound mind, but a question 
 of such an unsound mind that the person ought to be confined 
 in a lunatic asylum, for I think there is considerable difference 
 between a person who might be said to be of unsound mind 
 in a certain sense and a person who should be confined in a lunatic 
 asylum. 
 
 Mr. Miller, Q.C., in an able paper read before the 
 meeting of the Social Science Association, pointed out 
 that the certificate was simply the testimony, as experts, 
 of two medical men, unsworn, not subject to cross- 
 examination, not necessarily possessed of any special 
 knowledge of the subject, neither of whom need ever 
 have seen and in a fraudulent case they never would 
 have seen the victim before in their lives. What would 
 be said of our criminal law if it warranted the arrest 
 arid detention, without trial, of an alleged thief upon the 
 certificate of two lawyers who might even be paid con- 
 veyancers, that they had conversed with him and that 
 they considered his admissions evidence of his guilt ? Yet 
 the two cases are analogous. I complain of the law, but 
 do not for one moment suppose I am complaining of the 
 20,000 medical practitioners now on the Register for the 
 state of that law. The medical profession is admitted on 
 all hands to be a noble and honourable profession, and it 
 would indeed be alike unjust and wicked to in any way 
 insinuate that the majority of its members should be made to 
 Buffer for the sins of the few black sheep who aiv amongst 
 them. 
 
 Dr. Balfour, the keeper of a private lunatic asylum, in 
 
240 MR. THOMAS SKEWES-COX ON 
 
 a paper which appeared in the British Medical Journal, 
 made the following admission : 
 
 The Lunacy Law, were it not for the honesty of the medical 
 profession, could be so manipulated as to render insecure the liberty 
 of any one of Her Majesty's subjects. It is perfectly possible for any 
 person to be falsely sent as insane to an asylum, to be unjustly 
 treated while there, and to be detained, even when properly confined, 
 longer than necessary, if the Lunacy Law, and the Lunacy Law 
 alone, were the protecting agency. 
 
 I hold with others, that it is very unsatisfactory, to 
 say the least, that we should, one and all of us, owe the 
 enjoyment of our personal liberty, not to the guardianship 
 of the law under which we live, but to the forbearance 
 and highinindedness of any body of men, however highly 
 we may esteem them and however worthy they may be of 
 our trust and confidence. That such an abuse is legally 
 possible is a sufficient ground for the amendment of the 
 law, even if the many cases of actual abuse had never 
 been substantiated. 
 
 Lord Coleridge, in a debate in the House of Lords last 
 year, stated that the experience of thirty years had shewn 
 that in the present lunacy system there was a good deal 
 to be amended, and that, though excellent on paper, it 
 often broke down in practice. The Marquis of Salisbury in 
 the same debate said he felt the Lunac}^ Laws would 
 hardly survive the blow they had received from Lord 
 Coleridge, and that it seemed to him that in various 
 cases, in this connection, the law of England was abso- 
 lutely no security for the liberty of the subject. His 
 lordship added that " the defect in the administration of 
 these laws was the utter absence of publicity." 
 
 It is always easier to complain of grievances than it 
 is to suggest remedies for their removal. I learn, however, 
 that the Government propose to bring in a Bill with a 
 view to the amendment of the Lunacy Laws, but I am 
 not aware of the measures they intend to submit for the 
 
THE LUNACY LAWS. 24? 1 
 
 consideration of Parliament, and I do not think I can do 
 better than state broadly the principles which I support in 
 the matter, and which were embodied in a Bill prepared 
 for introduction to Parliament a few years since, but 
 unfortunately the exigencies of each session have prevented 
 its being brought forward : viz., that the first rule essential 
 to a good lunacy law for all cases (a rule admitting of no 
 exception, even by the consent of the alleged lunatic ; for 
 if he be a lunatic, he is incapable of giving a valid consent, 
 and if not, the enquiry ought not to take place at all), is 
 that no inquiry into the sanity of an alleged lunatic, 
 whether by the Master in Lunacy or otherwise, should be 
 held in private. In order to authorize the detention of 
 anyone as a lunatic, such enquiry ought to be public, to 
 proceed exclusively upon some sworn evidence, given by 
 witnesses produced for cross-examination, and conducted by 
 a competent judicial officer, assisted either by a jury, or by 
 sworn medical assessors ; except where the enquiry has 
 been ordered by the Lunacy Commissioners its costs should 
 be borne, in the first instance, by the person instituting 
 the same, but he should be recouped out of the lunatic's 
 property (if any), whenever the case was satisfactorily 
 established. ' Provision must, of course, be made for cases 
 where lunacy takes the form of violence, dangerous either 
 to the lunatic or to others ; and it would be impossible, for 
 instance, to suffer a man known to be liable to fits of 
 homicidal mania to remain at large until he had actually 
 killed someone, pending such an enquiry as above 
 mentioned. 
 
 The second rule should be that no lunatic should be 
 liable to be forcibly detained in an asylum, or other place 
 whatever, until his lunacy has been established by enquiry, 
 except under a warrant from a magistrate, which warrant 
 should only be grantable upon sworn depositions showing 
 that the deponent had reason to fear, and did actually fear, 
 
 R 
 
242 THE LUNACY LAWS. 
 
 that the lunatic, if left at large, would be dangerous either 
 to himself or some other person. Such warrant should 
 only be valid for seven days from its date, unless before 
 the expiration of that time proceedings for an inquisition 
 had been duly commenced. It should be obligatory on the 
 person obtaining such a warrant to take such proceedings 
 within the said week ; and his failure to do so or to duly 
 prosecute them, when commenced, should be conclusive 
 evidence against him in any action for false imprisonment 
 which the alleged lunatic might be advised to bring ; 
 proper regulations for the frequent and unexpected exami- 
 nation of lunatics by independent, qualified, and responsible 
 officers would of course follow. 
 
 These provisions, if thoroughly carried out, would, it is 
 submitted, be sufficient to secure what certainly cannot be 
 said of the law as it stands : viz., at least as high a degree 
 of probability that no sane man would be kept under 
 detention as a lunatic as there now is that no innocent 
 man is condemned to penal servitude as a criminal. 
 
 March 5th, 1885. 
 
JYiomas Carlyle : The Man and 
 the Writer" 
 
 By the Rev. ASTLEY COOPER. 
 
 N the Thames Embankment at Chelsea stands 
 a statue of one whose name has been upon 
 the lips of men more or less for the last fifty 
 years. It was placed there by those who 
 regarded him in his lifetime as a prophet, and more than a 
 prophet. It occupies a position near to the spot where the 
 living man abode and worked during those long years, and 
 not far from where Sir Thomas More once resided, Erasmus 
 visited, and Nell Gwynne had her home. Within a stone's 
 throw of it is the famed Don Saltero, where it is said the 
 gentle Addison was glad, on occasion and often, to resort in 
 order to free himself for a time from the ungentle salutations 
 of his wife's tongue, the Countess of Warwick. This same 
 statue is worth a passing visit. I have seen it more than 
 once. It is suggestive, and helps you to realise the externals 
 of the man in whose honour it is raised. He is seated : at his 
 feet are several volumes of books, suggestive of the student. 
 The head is long, and well covered with hair. The face is 
 powerful, but not cheerful to behold ; but rather in expression 
 grim, betraying inward discontent and unrest, and with 
 even angry and stern possibilities behind. Anybody might 
 discern all this without knowing the history of the original. 
 The forehead is broad and knotty, not high, and the brow 
 and eyes give signs of large powers of observation and 
 scrutiny. A powerful man you say, both physically and 
 
THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 mentally : but beyond that the effigy does little or nothing 
 to draw you towards the man it represents. There are 
 statues and portraits which act upon you like magnets 
 drawing the heart out of you. They take you captive, and 
 you yield most willingly, nay, there is no will in the matter, 
 you have to do it, you yield involuntarily your affections to 
 the original. Not so with that of Thomas Carlyle. He 
 may have much moral beauty within, but his face gives no 
 sign. Let us see. 
 
 I have said that this statue stands not far from the 
 far-famed home in Cheyne Row. Who has not heard of 
 that home ? Very few I should think, for indeed no house 
 and its ways have been more talked about in these later 
 years than this wisely and unwisely, kindly and unkindly. 
 They say a man is best known in his home; that there 
 the true Self manifests itself; that there he throws off all 
 disguises and small social hypocrisies, and reveals the true 
 Ego. It is so, no doubt, and we will try Thomas Carlyle 
 first by this test. During those fifty years of residence, the 
 steps of that house of small pretensions were well worn by 
 the feet of some of the most celebrated literary, scientific, 
 and artistic men of the period, together with a crowd of 
 lesser admiring pilgrims. Leigh Hunt was always hopping 
 in and out, in season and out. with his bright ways, wit, 
 and fun, and with his talent for borrowing all sorts of 
 things, from teacups up to tea to put in them ; and with 
 statelier steps came ranging over years the two Sterlings, 
 father and son, Maclise, Brewster, Jeffrey, Emerson, Tennyson, 
 Kingsley, Dickens, Thackeray, Margaret Fuller, Edward 
 Irving, Froude, Chalmers, John Stuart Mill, John Foster, 
 and others. A goodly band, certainly fit company for 
 any man, and they were received cordially, and with frugal 
 hospitality, by Carlyle and his wife ; and I presume with 
 company manners. But if we only study him in company 
 we shan't find the key to what we want. We want to 
 
THOMAS CARLYLE: THE MAN AND THE WHITER. 245 
 
 know the man first, and not the talker, and that in relation 
 to his wife. Surely a curious little household that in 
 private. The master, grim, dyspeptic, irritable, driven 
 frantic occasionally by cooks and their bad dishes, and by 
 the crowing of cocks and the barking of dogs a man, 
 moreover, fine drawn and tetchy to the verge of craziness. 
 Madam, too, a curiosity in her way with a mind bordering 
 on that of genius ; full of sensibility ; not over strong 
 physically given to headaches, with a temper quick, and 
 a tongue sharp. The one absorbed in his studies, and 
 the other taken up largely with the petty cares of a small 
 household with a light purse. Two clever minds; two 
 bad tempers ; two sharp tongues ; two possessors of sarcasm ; 
 two egotists ; and both together under one roof, and what 
 do you expect ? If you are sensible, just what happened 
 at times, and what has happened elsewhere lots of times 
 under the same conditions ; and which a scoffing and 
 uncharitable world had better not have been told about ; 
 and for which telling, in its cruel nakedness, I can hardly 
 forgive Mr. Froude. And the good woman complains and 
 shows symptoms of jealousy and sense of neglect at times, 
 and you shake your fist at the awful Thomas, and cry, 
 " Hypocrite with all your fine preaching." But is she 
 the first or last woman who has complained of neglect 
 without much cause ; or shown signs of jealousy without 
 much foundation ? I trow not. If a woman marries 
 a man of genius she must take him with all his 
 conditions. He must think and study and write long 
 hours alone ; and she must go her way without him. 
 He will be admired, and ladies will show their admiration 
 by pretty notes, gifts of slippers and smoking caps, 
 by calls and invitations. It i.s very provoking, all this; 
 but these are the social conditions under which a great 
 man of letters lives, and the wedded woman should sensibly 
 accept them. That that home in Cheyne Row was without 
 
246 THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 the truest love on both sides I will never believe. That 
 Carlyle meant to be neglectful, of studied purpose, towards 
 his Jennie is to me incredible ; but that he occasionally 
 forgot her in his self-absorption is likely enough. That 
 sometimes, in creating his Cromwells, Burns, and Fredericks, 
 he forgot her for a time is within the region of possibility. 
 That he took his heart away from her entirely, and gave 
 it up to a Lady Ashburton, may have been the fancy the 
 torturing fancy of a jealous woman, but simply without 
 foundation in fact, is patent to my mind. On both sides 
 their letters are full of affection, endearing terms, anc 1 
 love-like anxieties. They were mutually proud of each 
 other ; and even if the husband had his small flirtations, 
 and passing admirations, had she not her's ? Truly she 
 would not have been a woman if she had not; and it 
 strikes me, in reading those letters of her's, that the 
 admiration in which Lord Jeffreys held her was by no 
 means distasteful to her feminine nature, and that for 
 John Sterling she had a regard more than common, and 
 that if her Thomas had detected, he, too, might have 
 imagined a cause for jealousy. Heaven gave abundance of 
 talent to that house, and no small measure of heart, but with- 
 held one bit of cement, one magnet, one centralising power. 
 What say you if there had been a child or two there ? 
 No doubt it, or they, would have been intellectual prodigies 
 springing from that strange couple running much more to 
 brains than to breeches rickety on the legs, but powerful 
 in the upper stories, making them the parents in the 
 present think of others than their own dyspeptic, head- 
 throbbing selves, and in the future carrying on the 
 intellectual succession in double force. But more than 
 that ; for the time being such human blessings would 
 have changed the complexion of that home, and made 
 impossible many a domestic storm, and torturing, haunting 
 self-consciousness, and bit of worthless, foolish, groundless 
 
THOMAS CARLYLE : THE MAN AND THE WRITER. 247 
 
 jealousy, and sense of neglect. Ah me ! Whenever did 
 the drum domestic beat an uniform tattoo in a perpetual 
 strain agreeable to ears on both sides of the house, either 
 in Cheyne Row or elsewhere ? Why, then, such a clatter 
 over the sensational letters of an imaginative, talkative 
 woman and childless wife, and the doting reminiscences of 
 a man and a widower lingering in loneliness beyond far 
 the three score years and ten ? 
 
 In spite of all this Carlyle and his wife were hospitable 
 in their way; and when in the humour, and surrounded by 
 those for whom he had a regard, his conversation, or rather 
 monologue, must have been rich and racy to the highest 
 degree. Having worked and walked by day, evening was 
 the time when he entertained and talked. Tea over, his 
 pipe lighted, and he, partly reclining on the floor so that 
 the fumes of his tobacco might go up the chimney, he would 
 pour forth copiously upon all things in heaven and earth, 
 and under the earth. In the books which treat of him 
 many fragments of these conversations have been preserved. 
 Here is a characteristic bit as a specimen of his evening 
 talks : 
 
 The public, he said, had become a gigantic jackass ; literature 
 a glittering lie ; science was groping aimlessly amidst the dry, dead 
 clatter of the machinery by which it means the universe ; art wielding 
 a feeble, watery pencil ; history stumbling over dry bones in a valley no 
 longer of vision ; philosophy lisping and battling exploded absurdities 
 mixed with new nonsense about the Infinite, the Absolute, and the 
 Eternal ; our religion a great truth groaning its last ; truth, justice, 
 God turned big, starting empty words like the address on the sign 
 remaining after the house was abandoned, or like the envelope after 
 the letter had been extracted, drifting down the wind. And what 
 men have we to meet the crisis ? Sir Walter Scott, a toothless 
 retailer of old wives' fables ; Brougham, an eternal grinder of 
 commonplace and pretentious noise, like a man playing on a hurdy- 
 gurdy ; Colderidge, talking in a maudlin sleep an infinite deal of 
 nothing ; Wordsworth, stooping to extract catsup from mushrooms 
 which were little better than toadstools ; John Wilson, taken to 
 
248 THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 preside at Nootes, and painting haggises in flood ; the bishops and 
 clergy of all denominations combined to keep men in a state of 
 pupilage, that they may be kept in port wine and roast beef ; 
 politicans full of cant, insincerity, and falsehood Peel, a plausible 
 fox ; John Wilson Croker, an unhanged hound ; Lord John Russell, 
 a turnspit of good pedigree ; Lord Melbourne, a monkey ; these be 
 thy gods, O Israel ! Others occupied in undertakings as absurd as 
 to suck the moon out of the sky ; this windbag yelping for liberty 
 to the negro, and that other for the improvement of prisons ; all 
 sham and imposture together a giant lie which may soon go down 
 in hell-fire. 
 
 This is a specimen of his talk, taken, as you will see 
 by the references, from a very early period in his career. 
 Clever and amusing, but about as true and discriminating 
 as that famous remark of David when he said in his haste 
 " all men are liars." 
 
 It is now time to turn from this somewhat private 
 aspect of the man to his public career as a Teacher. As a 
 Politician I think I may dismiss him in a few sentences, for 
 in the higher and more serious sense I cannot regard him as 
 any such thing. It is true that he passed through the 
 whole gamut of political profession and belief from 
 Democracy and Radicalism up to stolid, inflexible, and 
 uncompromising Toryism. He was too contemptuous of men 
 and things, writing, moreover, in a language not understood 
 of the people to be an influencing power in this direction. 
 To him Sir Robert Peel was Sir Jabez Windbag; Cobden, 
 an inspired bagman who believed in a calico millennium ; 
 Mr. Disraeli, a person called Dizzy ; Mr. Gladstone, a poor 
 creature given to Ritualism. Political economy was " the 
 dismal science." The House of Commons was to him a 
 mere talking shop ; and with newspapers and reported 
 debates he would have no conference. I am not denying 
 that in his Latter Day Pamphlets, Past and Present, and 
 Chartism there may not be found some good suggestions 
 and sound grains of political wisdom, but that last 
 production of his, called Shooting Niagara, was received 
 
THOMAS CARLYLE: THE MAN AND THE WRITER. 249 
 
 with roars of laughter all round, and the author thought to 
 be ripe for Bedlam. No one of any standing quotes him as 
 a political authority ; and no one in his senses would 
 recommend a political aspirant to study him as you would 
 John Stuart Mill. The fact is he was too imaginative, 
 too impatient of contradiction, and too fond of standing 
 alone in singular garb and awful speech to make a figure 
 as a sound and reliable politician (if there is any such 
 thing). He would have been singularly and absurdly 
 out of place in the House of Commons ; a riddle to any 
 constituency, and a most awkward customer in any Cabinet ' 
 foolhardy enough to give him a place. 
 
 His fame rests rather in Literature, especially in the 
 departments of Biography and History. He did more in his 
 day than any man within my knowledge, for good and evil, 
 to popularise and make known to the English people the 
 treasures of German thought and philosophy. In his early 
 years he wrought hard in this large field, and his first laurels 
 were won in it. A laborious and thorny field truly, but 
 the young Scot made it his own. This was at once his 
 crown and his thorn : his crown, for he did it all by the 
 sweat of his brow : his thorn, for he became saturated 
 with its subtle thought and crabbed phraseology, and it 
 cursed his style for all after time with a bitter curse. 
 To thousands of educated people Carlyle's style is an 
 unmitigated abomination ; they would sooner take a turn on 
 the treadmill than read his books. It was so recognised 
 almost from the first. When he was writing in the Edinburgh 
 Review, through the friendship of Jeffrey, who was then 
 editor, Macaulay wrote of one of his articles: "As to 
 Carlyle he might as well write in Irving's unknown 
 tongues at once;" and of Brougham it is said that he was 
 so disgusted with an article called " Characteristics " that he 
 declared he would write no more in the Edinburgh if "that 
 man's" articles were suffered to appear there. That his 
 
250 THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 singular and characteristic style, known for all after time as 
 Carlyleism, was not natural to him, is evident by a comparison 
 of his very first with his after writings. It was acquired and 
 an affectation. He said of his friend Irving that he affected 
 the manner of John Milton and the Puritans in his writing 
 and speech, and smilingly admitted that he too was not 
 guiltless of affectation. I think his mannerism a serious 
 drawback to his popularity and general acceptance, greatly 
 reducing the numbers of his readers, and obscuring his 
 thoughts. But at the same time I confess to a certain 
 charm connected with his composition when you have got 
 over the initial difficulties, and I can imagine a strong 
 admirer finding all other writing poor in comparison. But 
 to a multitude of readers such phraseology and queer 
 construction requires patience and a special education before 
 appreciation comes. Happily few are his imitators, or woe 
 betide, ere long, the purity, native beauty, and strength 
 of the English language. Many of his words are entirely 
 of his own coinage, and they are thrown about in defiance 
 of all accepted rules of grammar. The common people can 
 have nothing to do with such books so written ; and it is 
 cruel to ask a working man, after a hard day's work, to 
 refresh himself at such polluted wells of English. But the 
 thought is sometimes fine ; a character is completed in a 
 paragraph ; the humour is occasionally exquisite ; and you 
 have flashes of eloquence of unequalled power. I suppose the 
 works by which he will be longest and best known are his 
 Cromwell, his French Revolution, and his Frederick. But 
 are they history in the strictest sense of the word ? 
 Cromwell may be after the dry-as-dust fashion. The 
 French Revolution is a grand poem in prose form, and 
 Frederick partakes, in my judgment, of the character of an 
 historical romance or fiction. Carlyle had all the industry 
 which goes to the making of a great historian, but he was 
 too passionate, too capricious, too exaggerative, and too 
 
THOMAS CARLYLE : THE MAN AND THE WRITER. 251 
 
 prejudiced to give us reliable judgments of men and things. 
 I should like in confirmation of my opinion thus expressed 
 to criticise in detail the three historical works just named, 
 but this is manifestly impossible in a short paper of this 
 kind; still I will venture upon one illustration of what I 
 mean from Frederick the Great. Carlyle sums up the 
 character of King Frederick William thus: 
 
 A wild man, wholly in earnest ; veritable as the old rocks, 
 and with a terrible volcanic fire in him, too. There is a divine 
 idea of fact put into him, the genus Sham never hatefuller to any 
 man ... A just man, too ; would not wrong any man . 
 A just man I say, and a valiant and veracious . . . He was a 
 very arbitrary king. But then a good deal of his arbitrium, or 
 sovereign will, was that of the Eternal Heaven as well, and did 
 exceedingly behove to be done if the earth would prosper ... I 
 find, except Samuel Johnson, no man of equal veracity with 
 Frederick William in that epoch . . . Full of sensitiveness, rough 
 as he was, and shaggy of skin ... I confess his value to me, in 
 these sad times, is rare and great. 
 
 Now what are the facts about this "just man" "full of 
 sensitiveness," " with the will of the Eternal Heaven in 
 him " ? To inflict pain was the chief pleasure of his life. 
 His bamboo cane was laid upon everybody within his 
 reach. People fled before him in the streets and bolted 
 their doors. One day a person in the street ran away and 
 he sent after him. The man being questioned said he ran 
 away for fear. "You should love, love, love me, you 
 villain, not fear," said the king, with a blow at each word. 
 He thrashed the judges in his criminal court one by one 
 for condemning a soldier for burglary, and knocked some of 
 their teeth out ; he struck an officer in the face who drew 
 a pistol and blew his brains out before him. When sick, 
 he lamented his incapacity to thrash everybody he had a 
 iaiu-y for thrashing, and the bulletins of his convalescence 
 contained the passage : " His Majesty is better, and has 
 thrashed a page to-day." He had a passion for building, 
 and sentenced men to build houses whether they could 
 
252 THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 afford it or not, and many bankruptcies were the 
 consequence. Academics and professors were treated with 
 insult. He made one of his court fools argue before the 
 Universitjr of Frankfurt on the theme : " Learned men are 
 charlatans and blockheads." Leibnitz, the friend of his 
 mother, he said, "was a fool of a fellow, not fit for a 
 sentinel." To the Academy of Science he gave for 
 discussion the reason " why champagne effervesces," which 
 discussion they wittily avoided by asking for fifty bottles 
 for the necessary experiments. He kept a learned man, 
 Gundling, at his court as a fool, tortured and nearly killed 
 him with barbarous practical jokes, and buried him in a 
 wine cask in spite of the protestations of the clergy. 
 Wolfe, the philosopher, was forbidden to remain in the 
 country on pain of the halter, because he had .been told his 
 philosophy on the doctrine of " necessity " would lead his 
 grenadiers to mutiny. All this, I think, is pretty well for a 
 heaven-born king " a just man, full of sensibility and of 
 remarkable veracity." I have gleaned these facts from a 
 reliable source (see Edinburgh Review, No. 224, 1859), and 
 put them side by side with Carlyle's portrait of his hero in 
 order to show that where his prejudices, predilections, and 
 passions were concerned, he is not to be depended upon as 
 a credible historian. Cromwell he allows to tell mostly his 
 own story by his letters, with footnotes which are 
 thoroughly Carlylean fingerposts. I admire the pluck of a 
 reader who goes through honestly, word by word, the 
 French Revolution, but think a second thorough reading 
 requires more courage than is ordinarily given to mortals. 
 Yet in all these works there are great beauties of thought, 
 rare insights into character, a marvellous massing and 
 sorting of materials, and unmistakable signs of genius in 
 the author. 
 
 I now turn for a moment or two to consider a matter 
 of great importance in connection with Carlyle as a teacher, 
 
THOMAS CARLYLE : THE MAN AND THE WRITER. 253 
 
 but as difficult and delicate as it is important. It is a 
 delicate matter to speak of any man's religious views and 
 beliefs, but you cannot estimate either character or 
 influence without it. That they were peculiar and original 
 is certain, but how to disentangle them from their chaotic 
 condition is a task of no great ease. To expect such a 
 man to walk in the flowery meads of orthodoxy would be 
 to expect the impossible. He, who was always eccentric and 
 original in every department of thought and speculation, 
 was likely to be emphatically eccentric and original here. 
 He who had a literary code, a political creed, a special 
 language, a grammar, a style all and peculiarly his own, was 
 not likely to be bound by the Westminster Confession, the 
 Shorter Catechism, the Thirty-nine Articles, or the Apostles' 
 Creed in matters religious. A restless, unsatisfied, pondering 
 mind like his, when once adrift from the old moorings on 
 subjects spiritual and eternal seldom comes to anchor again, 
 and if this is accomplished is liable, ever and anon, to shift 
 and drag. Galvanism, in which I presume he was early 
 trained in his Scotch home, is of all creeds the most 
 calculated to produce in such a man deep questionings and 
 profound hunger of soul. A dry, narrow, and inflexible 
 creed like that would rattle like a kernel in the shell of 
 that capacious mind and heart; and yet, strange to say, to 
 the very last it seemed to hang about him like a loose, 
 impeding garment, partly, I think, through the undying 
 influence of the memory of a singularly good and pious 
 mother. He was at pains during many years in his letters 
 home to assure his mother, who was more than anxious 
 on the point, that his opinions, although in a different garb, 
 were at bottom analogous with her own. But that a 
 change came over him in early life in relation to Christianity 
 is evident from a pathetic passage in his reminiscences of 
 Edward Irving. He had been to Glasgow on a visit to his 
 friend Irving, who was then helping Dr. Chalmers, and 
 
254 THE KEV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 when the time came for his return to Annandale, he 
 describes how Irving accompanied him fifteen miles on the 
 road, and how they sat among the " peat hags " of 
 Drumclog Moss, " under the silent skies, with a world all 
 silent around them." As they sat and talked, their own 
 voices were " the one sound." Ailsa Craig towered " white 
 and visible " away in the distance. Their talk had grown 
 ever friendlier and more interesting. At length the declining 
 sun said plainly, " You must part." He says 
 
 They sauntered slowly into the highway. Masons were building 
 at a cottage near by, or were packing up on ceasing for the day. We 
 leant our backs on a dry stone fence, and looking into the western 
 radiance continued yet awhile, loth both of us to go. It was just 
 here as the sun was sinking, Irving actually drew from me by degrees, 
 in the softest manner, the confession that I did not think as he on 
 the Christian religion, and that it was in vain for me to expect I 
 ever could or should. This, if this was so, he had pre-engaged to 
 take well from me, like an elder brother, if I would be frank with 
 him, and right royally he did so, and to the end of his life we 
 needed no concealments on that head, which was really a step gained. 
 
 You must pardon me if in attempting to formulate 
 Carlyle's religious belief out of the mass of his vague 
 utterances on the subject I throw the grave responsibility 
 off my own shoulders on to that of others, not in cowardice, 
 but because I think they are in a position to do it better. 
 Professor David Masson, who claims the privilege of a long 
 intimacy with him, says on pp. 80-1-2, of his lectures on 
 the personality and writings of the subject of this paper 
 
 Carlyle went through the world as a fixed Theist God, the 
 Almighty, the maker of all. Through all the eighty-five years of 
 Carlyle's life, all the seventy of his speech and writing, this was the 
 constant phrase to his fellow mortals. "There is a God, there is a 
 God, there is a God " not even did the Koran of Mahomet fulminate 
 this message more incessantly in the ears, or turn it more glowingly 
 into the hearts, of the previously atheistic Arabs whom the inspired 
 camel-drivers sought to raise, than did the series of Carlyle's writings 
 fulminate it, and try to make it blaze in a region and generation 
 where, as he imagined, despite all the contrary appearances of organised 
 
THOMAS CARLYLE : THE MAN AND THE WRITER. 255 
 
 churches and myriads of clergy and of pulpits, the canker of atheism 
 was all but universal. When he avoided the single name "God" or 
 the "Almighty," and had recourse to those phrases "the Immensities," 
 "the Eternities," "the Silences," "the Infinite Unnameable "which 
 we now think of smilingly, as peculiar forms of the Carlylean 
 rhetoric, it was, as he himself tells us, because "the old Numen 
 had become as if obsolete to the huge idly impious million of writing, 
 preaching, and talking people," and he would employ any synonyms or 
 verbal shifts by which he could hope to bring back the essential 
 notion. In his latter years, and always in his pious self-communings, 
 he seems to have preferred the simple old name he had learnt from 
 his father and mother, with its heart-thrilling and heart- softening 
 associations. But on this subject we have his own words in June, 
 1808, thus : " No prayer, I find, can be more appropriate still to 
 express one's feelings, ideas, and wishes in the highest direction than 
 the universal one of Pope : 
 
 1 Father of all, in every age, 
 
 In every clime, adored 
 By saint, by savage, and by sage, 
 
 Jehovah, God, or Lord ! ' 
 
 * Thou great First Cause, least understood, 
 
 Who all my sense confined 
 To know but this that Thou art good, 
 
 And that myself am blind.' 
 
 Not a word of that requires change for me at this time, if words are 
 to be used at all." 
 
 Principal Tulloch in his St. Giles' Lectures for 1885 
 summarises Carlyle's creed admirably. He says : 
 
 Upon the whole we may venture to sum up the relations of 
 Carlyle's teaching to Christianity as follows ; it was negative in the 
 following points : (1) In denial of miracles. (2) In the denial of 
 the Divine Personality ; and (3) in his disposition to exalt strength, 
 to set forth the mighty in intellect and character rather than the 
 "poor in spirit," as the Divine ideal. On the other hand his 
 teaching had an affinity with Christianity (1) In his continued 
 assertion of a Divine Power behind all matter ; (2) his representation 
 of man as the offspring of such a Divine Power or Being ; (3) his 
 earnestness in behalf of a moral law or an eternal distinction between 
 right and wrong ; and (4) his belief, vague though it be, in immortality. 
 When his wife died so suddenly in his absence, his heart seemed 
 
256 THE REV. ASTLEY COOPER ON 
 
 breaking at the thought that he could never see her again. Yet 
 then and afterwards, when he grew calm and was in full possession 
 of himself, he spoke always of a life to come, and the meeting of 
 friends in it, as a thing not impossible. 
 
 So much for Professor Masson and Principal Tulloch. 
 They may be right or wrong, or partly right and partly 
 wrong. I will not presume to dogmatise upon so difficult 
 a matter. Some of you, no doubt, presently, in your 
 superior wisdom, will put it all into a nutshell and settle 
 the doubt for ever. Invaluable and priceless benefactors in 
 the regions of divinity and philosophy, I bow before you 
 and reverently uncover, and stand aghast at your talent 
 and courage ; but for myself I will only say that though I 
 am much with the doubting Thomas in his revolt against 
 Puseyism, Ritualism, and many of the other isms, yet I 
 deprecate and mourn over his destructive attitude towards 
 the great verities of which these things are the unworthy 
 expression, and at times, in their extreme development, the 
 miserable caricatures. In all ages Christianity has received 
 foul and cruel work at the hands of its professors ; but still 
 it has held its ground, unchanged and unchangeable, 
 in all fundamental and eternal essentials the star of 
 guidance to the human family in time, and the hope of 
 better things in the something inexpressible yet to come. 
 But that Carlyle should have assumed such a position 
 towards it is a matter of deeper regret than I can express, 
 for by it not merely did he throw away from himself a rare 
 vitality and guide which would have been of great value to 
 such an idiosyncracy ; but by his example and teaching he 
 has injured hundreds of feebler minds and souls than his 
 own, and given the patent of his authority to an injurious 
 mysticism eagerly snatched at by minds, in the score, which 
 require rather sweetness and light, in preference to sourness 
 and darkness. 
 
 A final word. You will hardly call my paper a eulogy 
 upon the man and the author under review; yet there are 
 
THOMAS CARLYLE: TIIK MAX AND TH K WKITKU. !>.~>7 
 
 certain mural qualities connected with liiin ami Ins work 
 for which I have almost an unqualified admiration. T love 
 for instance, with a fervent love his independence and 
 pride of character. When one remembers how frequently 
 the literary calling lias been dragged through the dust and 
 mire, through the meannesses and vices of those who knew 
 and have taught better things, one cannot but feel a 
 reverence for the sturdy Scot who, through years of 
 comparative poverty, disdained to sell his pen to the 
 hiring crew for venal purposes, and stuck to his oatmeal 
 and salt, scorning to beg, borrow, or to steal. In poverty, 
 and simplicity he began his career ; he sought no favour 
 he only asked to be taken for what he was, thus practically 
 illustrating his own hatred of shams; he was neither 
 flunk v, sycophant, or tool, and at the end of his life no 
 man could challenge, in truth and reason, his integrity of 
 character. I like, too, his home piety. Very beautiful to 
 me is his veneration for his mason, peasant father, and his 
 love for his unlettered mother. His interest and pride in 
 his brothers' careers are honourably significant. In an age 
 when the rising stock talks about " Pater : ' and "Mater," 
 the " Governor " and " Ma," with flippant familiarity, and 
 almost with condescending patronage, such an example in a 
 man of genius is surely priceless. In sight of this genuine 
 bit of practical piety of the old kind, I can forgive him much 
 of speculative theology 1 1 1 icoi igci i ial to my own predilections, 
 fr what i,> the value of the ologies without the virtues? 
 He preached, too. the divinity and dignity of labour, and he 
 himself was a living illustration of his own daily theme. 
 Me has left us, as a legacy, thirty-four volumes octavo full 
 of mattei- ->o solid that lew digestions are equal to it even 
 in small doses, but representing an amount of research, 
 thinking, and writing, wonderful to contemplate. No idler, 
 no dreamer was he. He preached the holiness of work and 
 he practised what he preached. 1 am not prepared to say 
 
258 THOMAS CARLYLE : THE MAN AND THE WRITER. 
 
 whether or no Carlyle will be read much in the future. It 
 is always dangerous to prophesy before you know ; but if 
 I were pressed for an opinion I should say I think not. 
 Still, whether these thirty-four volumes octavo are read 
 much or not he has already infused much of what was 
 special to himself into the mental life blood of the nations, 
 and it will go on reproducing itself. The great light has 
 touched and illumined lesser ones, and they will popularise 
 and diffuse the best of his teaching. Let us remember in 
 our day if we had not had a Thomas Carlyle we should 
 .riot have had, such as we know them, an Alfred Tennyson, 
 a Charles Kingsley, a Frederick William Robertson, 
 a Raskin, and many others. Thought is like sound, 
 which, when once projected into space never dies, but 
 echoes and re-echoes for evermore. The prophet and the 
 teacher die and are forgotten, but their words and thoughts 
 never ; in some form or other they live on, and this is 
 their true immortality. 
 
 February 1st, 1886. 
 
The Tenure and Transfer of Land 
 
 in England" 
 
 By Mr. EDWARD HAWES, M.A. 
 
 WILL ln^in my paper with a brief historical 
 account of our land tenures, on which a good 
 il'-al of light has been thrown by recent 
 antiquarian research. From the earliest English, 
 or as they are often called, Anglo-Saxon times, of which 
 records exist, the lands of the Church have been continuously 
 held on an unchanged free tenure, the historical name for 
 which is " Frankalmoigne." In the same early times, the 
 1V( -en i'n of our cities and boroughs held their houses in a 
 species of free ownership, called " Burgage " tenure, and in 
 various parts of England small landowners held their land 
 in what was termed " free socage," from which two classes 
 many of our modern freeholds are descended. But the 
 count rv was for the most part parcelled out into estates 
 of about the size of our parishes, which were termed "hams," 
 as in Twickenham and Petersham, and " tuns." as in 
 Teddington and Shepperton. Each had a village for its 
 nucleus, with arable land m-ar it. and commons of pasture 
 ami wood further atield. These estates were owned lv 
 "thanes" and "men," or as we should say, nobl-s ami gentry 
 (who had to pay dues to the king and accompany him on 
 his military expeditions), and were cultivated by peasant 
 occupiers, termed rhurN. boers, and cotters, each of whom 
 had his house in the village, and his acres of arable land 
 and rights of wood and pasture on the estate. All held 
 
260 MR. KWVARD HAWES <>X 
 
 nominally at the will of the landlord, but all equally held 
 by custom fixity of tenure so long as they performed for 
 him their customary services of tillage and other farm 
 work. Some were free to transfer their holdings on 
 payment of a customary fine and go where they pleased, 
 but others were subject to fixity of tenure to an unpleasant 
 degree, for they were not free to leave if they wished it, 
 being in fact serfs appurtenant to their land. The villagers 
 were not taxed directly to the Crown, but to the landlord, 
 having, besides their customary services, to make him 
 payments corresponding with the duties or pay on 
 successions and transfers, though often heavier in proportion. 
 The custom of inheritance was in most cases that of 
 Primogeniture, or the succession of the eldest son to the 
 whole, in some that of Borough English, or the succession of 
 the youngest son, and in some (particularly in Kent) that of 
 Gavelkind, or the succession of all the sons in equal shares. 
 All these modes of inheritance still exist among us and 
 operate in cases of intestacy. When there was no son, 
 daughters usually inherited in equal shares, but that all 
 children, sons and daughters, should share alike was, so 
 far as I have been able to ascertain, unthought of. 
 
 The changes made on the Norman Conquest were not 
 so great as is often supposed. The Conquerer dispossessed 
 the nobles and gentry, who as a body had opposed him, 
 and rewarded his followers with their estates, thenceforth 
 termed " manors," upon terms of their rendering him 
 military services a tenure differing somewhat, but perhaps 
 not very widely, from the older tenures of the Saxon gentry. 
 But the great mass of present occupiers remained undisturbed, 
 holding their land under Norman lords as new masters in 
 place of the English gentry, under whom they had previously 
 held. The incidents of the Norman military tenures were 
 by degrees commuted into money payments or allowed to 
 become obsolete, and by an Act of Parliament passed 
 
THE TENURE AND TRANSFER OF LAND. 
 
 in the time of the Commonwealth, and renewed after 
 the Restoration, all lands held under them were converted 
 into lands of "free and common socage " that is into 
 ordinary freeholds, and all Norman feudalism was thus 
 abolished. 
 
 Serfdom is long since extinct among us, but the old 
 customary tenures, now known as copyholds, survive. The 
 copyholder (who is so called from holding his land by virtue 
 of a copy of the " Court Roll," or book in which the 
 tenancies on the manor are entered) still holds nominally, at 
 the will of the lord, and according to the custom of the 
 manor, "at the rents and services (the latter of which are 
 in fact long since abolished) heretofore due and of right 
 accustomed;" still when a copyholder wishes to transfer 
 his land he has nominally to surrender it to the lord, and 
 the new tenant must pay a tine for being admitted; and 
 still when a copyholder dies, his land nominally reverts to 
 the lord of the manor, and his heir or devisee has to pay 
 a Hue for his succession ; and what, where the fine is small 
 and fixed, is often felt as a greater hardship, the copyholder 
 lias to pay the fees of the steward of the manor, usually 
 the lord's lawyer, on every surrender and admittance. The 
 old customs of inheritance prevail, and other customs of 
 antiquarian interest, but of present inconvenience. Perhaps 
 the most troublesome of these is that of the lord's right to 
 claim " heriots," which exists on a good many manors, in 
 which the land is thence termed " heriotable." This means 
 that when a copyholder dies the lord of the manor is 
 entitled to seize the best animal he can find on the land. 
 It is said to date from very remote times, when the 
 landlord gave his follower an outfit of seed and implements, 
 and one or more oxen for ploughing, and reserved to 
 himself the right of retaking them from the heir on his 
 tenant's death. In a case which came under my notice 
 here in Richmond, which is a manor belonging to the 
 
262 MR, EDWARD HAWES ON 
 
 Crown, a copyholder died who had a pair of good horses 
 in his stable. The representative of the Crown seized one 
 of them as a heriot, and a sum of money which, I think, 
 was a hundred guineas, had to be paid to redeem it. 
 Copyholds being as I have shown, a kind of perpetually 
 renewable lease, subject to troublesome incidents, perhaps 
 just in their inception, but not now in accord with the 
 spirit of the age, compulsory powers have in the present 
 reign been given to copyholders, (except those holding under 
 the Crown), to enfranchise their copyholds, or turn them 
 into freeholds, subject to the payment of compensation, for 
 which an effective machinery as inexpensive as circum- 
 stances will permit has been provided ; and copyholds are 
 now in a rapid course of extinction. 
 
 Now the Crown means at the present day, as regards 
 lands, simply a public department the Office of Woods, 
 Forests, and Land Revenues advised ultimately in legal 
 matters by the Attorney General, who, whatever his politics 
 may be, considers it his duty to reserve ancient rights 
 and privileges on all possible occasions. The Crown, as 
 a concession to public opinion, professes in theory its 
 willingness to enfranchise, but requires at the outset 
 the payment of a fee for its surveyor, who fixes a high 
 price, which the tenant may take or leave, as he has no 
 appeal against it. This is a defect which ought to be 
 remedied, and there is a minor detail on which the mode 
 of enfranchisement might be improved. If the lord of a 
 manor compels a tenant to enfranchise, the tenant may 
 require the compensation to be in the form of a yearly rent- 
 charge, but if the tenant compels the lord to enfranchise he 
 has not this privilege. I think it should be extended to 
 him, and that it would enable some tenants to enfranchise 
 who cannot now afford to do so. With these exceptions 
 every copyholder has the power, on fair terms, to free his 
 land from those over him. 
 
THE TEXt'RE AXD TRANSFER OF LAND. 2G3 
 
 Freeholds and copyholds are termed lands of inheritance, 
 and an- subject, in cases of intestacy, to the old customs of 
 inheritance which I have mentioned, of which primogeniture 
 is the most widely prevalent. The reasons, good or 
 expedient in their day, for these customs no longer exist 
 among us, and the prevalent desire among parents is to 
 leave their property fairly and equally amongst their 
 children, an object which the law provides for in every 
 other description of property, including leaseholds, which 
 are technically " personal estate." There are few people 
 who leave freehold or copyhold property without its 
 destination after their deaths l>eing provided for, so that 
 the sufferers from these customs are not many; but the 
 law ought in principle to indicate the fair and proper 
 division, and it is wrong for there to be even a few 
 occasional cases of hardship and injustice from its operation; 
 so that not only primogeniture, but gavelkind and borough 
 English, ought now to make way for the assimilation of 
 the law of descent of all landed property to that of 
 personalty. 
 
 Lands of inheritance are held either in fee simple 
 which means full ownership, in tail, or for life, and 
 frequently owned at the same time, by one pel-son for life, 
 and by another in remainder in fee or in tail. The law of 
 entail, properly so called, is that by which an owner of 
 land in fee simple, whom I will term the original settlor, 
 may by deed or will direct that it shall descend so a> to 
 pass to another person and his personal descendants only, 
 reverting to the heirs of the original settlor or some other 
 pei-sons whom he may appoint, if the descendants of the 
 person to whom he so gives the land die out. Immediately, 
 however, that any person becomes entitled to the possession 
 or rents of land for an estate tail he may forthwith, and 
 at tririin- expense, -bar" it, or turn it into fee simple. 
 This tight though formerly the process was expensive -has 
 
MR, EDWARD HAWES OK 
 
 existed ever since Henry VII. 's time, and as a rule everyone 
 exercises it directly he gets the chance, so that the abolition 
 of the law of entail by itself would be of very little use, 
 but it is at the door of estate for life that the true blame 
 is to be laid for the difficulties which have arisen from 
 settlements of landed property. The aim of the English 
 landed gentry has been to amass large landed estates, which 
 have conferred on them great political power, and to 
 prevent any spendthrift who might come into the family 
 estates from dissipating them. This has been effected 
 during the past centuries by settlements, at the present 
 time colloquially, but somewhat inaccurately, termed entails, 
 as they are a combination of life estate and entail, in 
 which the life estate is the more essential feature, and 
 under which the head of the family for the time being, 
 when he comes into the property, is tenant for life only, 
 with remainder to his eldest son as tenant in tail ; and as 
 soon as the son attains twenty-one, and before he succeeds 
 to the possession, his father, by parental influence^ coupled 
 with the force of custom and an immediate annuity out of 
 the rents, induces him to re-settle the property, so that w r hen 
 he succeeds to it he is only tenant for life ; and so on from 
 generation to generation. 
 
 A tenant for life until of late years, unless specially 
 empowered by the settlement, had not power even to 
 grant a lease beyond his own life, much less to sell 
 the property or charge money on the estate for any 
 improvements ; but during the present reign statutory 
 powers have been given him to raise money for drainage, 
 erecting farm buildings and cottages, and effecting other 
 improvements ; and by the Settled Land Act of 1882 he 
 may freely grant leases of all ordinary descriptions, and 
 may without restriction sell or exchange any part of the 
 land, except the family mansion (if there be one), with its 
 heirlooms and pleasure grounds, and these he may sell, 
 
THE TENURE AND TRANSFER OF LAND. 205 
 
 with the consent of the trustees of the settlement, and if 
 they refuse he may appeal to the Court against their 
 decision. The purchase money may he re-invested in land, 
 or invested in the funds of Railway Preference Stocks, and 
 the tenant for life will have the dividends instead of his 
 rents, but he is not free to take the capital or apply any 
 part of it unrestrictedly as he likes. Improvements may 
 be effected in these provisions as time goes on, but tenants 
 for life have now in substance as much liberty as is 
 compatible with the existence of estates for life. The 
 enactments I have referred to only mitigate the evils 
 attendant on them, and I believe that though there are some 
 difficulties and drawbacks, it would be beneficial, both as 
 a question of political economy to the country generally, 
 and also in particular to landowners themselves, not only 
 for the law of entail, but for the power of creating estates 
 for life in land for the future, to be abolished, and for 
 it to be provided, as regards existing life estates, that on 
 any sale by a tenant for life, he may elect either to have 
 the income of the investments obtained with the purchase 
 money as at present, or to have the capital apportioned 
 between him and the remainderman, and take the proportion 
 of it which represents the value of his life estate for his 
 own use. In explanation of the views I have expressed as 
 to life estates and what 1 am about to say as to leaseholds, I 
 may mention here that whilst regarding such schemes as that 
 for so-called " nationalization " of the land, and making 
 the State or municipalities sole landlords, as revolutionary 
 and destructive of all inducements for improvement of 
 property, I believe widely-diffused individual ownership 
 (-.specially of residential property of such a kind that each 
 owner while he lives has full and complete power of 
 disposal, and the power to leave his property at his death 
 in like free ownership to whom he will to be in the highest 
 degree conducive to the welfare of society and the State, 
 
2 60 MR. EDWARD HA WES ON 
 
 and that it is right to encourage such ownership so far as 
 it can be done without injustice or hardship to others. 
 
 We now come to leaseholds, which have been sometimes 
 divided into leaseholds for lives and for years. The former 
 are dying out, and I do not propose to consider them. 
 There remain leaseholds for years, which may be divided 
 into (1) farm leases, usually for short terms or from year 
 to year ; (2) what are commonly called occupation leases, 
 namely, those by which people take houses or lands for 
 periods not exceeding twenty-one years for occupation, 
 paying the full annual value by way of rent ; (3) leases for 
 long terms of years, granted in consideration of the outlay 
 made by the lessees in building or effecting substantial 
 repairs, which for convenience I will class together as 
 building leases ; and (4<) mining and miscellaneous leases, 
 not materially concerning the general public. As regards 
 farm leases I may remark that there is at present in 
 England no great demand on the part of farmers for fixity 
 of tenure, though landlords would be very glad if their 
 tenants showed a little more fixity, and remained, even at 
 very moderate rents, instead of going away and leaving 
 their farms vacant. Parliament has stepped in of late years 
 by the Agricultural Holdings Acts and the Ground Game 
 Act, with the intention of bettering the tenant's position 
 bv making a longer notice to quit necessary than before 
 which I have found tenants do not at all like when they 
 wish to quit at short notice and find it is reciprocal by 
 providing that landlords shall compensate them on leaving for 
 improvements and unexhausted manures, and by conferring 
 on them an inalienable right to kill hares and rabbits. But 
 there is one part of their tenure on which it is very difficult 
 to give them freedom. They are usually bound down 
 stringently as to the mode in which they shall cultivate 
 the land they hold, and it is often said that to make 
 farming pay they should be free to do as they like. The 
 
THE TENURE AND TRANSFER OF LAND. 267 
 
 result, however, if they are left free, is frequently that they 
 work all the goodness out of the land in a few years, and 
 then leave it so exhausted that no fresh tenant will take 
 it, except free of rent for the first year or two. Passing 
 over occupation leases, we now come to building leases, and 
 as during the last and present years bills having for their 
 object the enfranchisement of leaseholds held under leases 
 of this kind have been laid before Parliament, I will enter 
 a little more fully upon this subject. By " Leasehold 
 Enfranchisement " is understood conferring on lessees com- 
 pulsory powers to acquire the freeholds from their landlords. 
 It has not yet been adopted as a part of the political 
 programme of the leaders of either party, but has met 
 will i some support on both sides of the House, and when 
 better understood by fuller discussion in Parliament, may 
 possibly ripen within a few years for legislation. Mr. 
 Broadhurst, the working man's member, brought in bills on 
 the subject in the last two sessions, and Lord Randolph 
 ( Ihurchill brought in last session a bill having the like 
 object. By Mr. Broadhurst's bill of last session it was 
 proposed to give this power to any person having an 
 anexpired term of twenty years or upwards in any house, 
 or cottage and garden not exceeding three acres in extent, 
 and that leaseholders of places of worship should have the 
 same right. I think twenty years is too short, and that 
 the minimum should be not less than twenty-one, so as to 
 exclude ordinary occupation leases. Mr. Broadhurst advocates 
 the measure- particularly on the special ground that the 
 acquisition of the freehold interest by the leaseholders, and 
 cmi^equi'iit more full responsibility for their property, would 
 conduce greatly to the improvement of the dwellings of the 
 poor, an opinion in which he was suppurted by a majority of 
 ten out of seventeen members of the Royal Commission on 
 the Housing of the Working (Masses; but the measure is 
 needed for the middle, as well as the working classes. London 
 
268 MR. EDWARD HAWES ON 
 
 and growing towns in the southern part of England are 
 almost the sole home of the building lease system. Land- 
 owners are obviously monopolists, as no one can manufacture 
 land, and in and around London are many owners of 
 extensive tracts. A man must own or hire a house to live 
 in within reach of his business, and if he has the means 
 he may wish to buy ground and build a suitable house 
 upon it. But when he goes to the landowner (who, of 
 course, makes for himself the best bargain that the law 
 and circumstances permit him to do), he is met with the 
 reply " I don't sell ; my terms are that you take a lease 
 for a term of years, build a house on it with your money, 
 on a plan to be approved by my surveyor, pay me ten 
 times as much rent as I have ever had for the ground 
 hitherto, make no alteration in the house you build without 
 my leave, and paint and repair it at specified times, or 
 forfeit it to me ; and that your successors shall deliver up 
 the house to mine in perfect repair, or pay them damages 
 for not doing so, even though my successors may intend to 
 spend nothing on it, but to pull it down the day the lease 
 expires." This is no overdrawn picture, but these are the 
 almost universal terms of building leases and the e very-day 
 practice of London and Richmond landowners put into plain 
 language. The man who wants a house does not like it, 
 but in most cases, unless he contents himself with an 
 occupation lease, he must buy or build a leasehold house, 
 or go without one, and the more he adds to or improves 
 his house, with his own money, the heavier is the landlord's 
 demand for dilapidations at the end of the term. Now in 
 the case of building leases the interest of the ground 
 landlord is not one of personal occupation and comfort, but 
 of investment only, and I think it would be to the 
 advantage of the community generally, and that there would 
 be no hardship or injustice, for the State to say to him 
 " I do not interfere with the highest rent you could get for 
 
THK TKNTKK AND TR ANSFKU <>F LAND. 
 
 the land when you leased it, but if your tenant continues 
 to pay you the rent in perpetuity, or pays you its 
 capitalised value, and pays you in addition the value of 
 your reversion to the house, or an additional rent equivalent 
 to it, I will not allow you to turn that man out and take 
 the benefit of his outlay." And this, with reciprocal powers 
 to enable the landlord to compel the tenant to enfranchise, 
 is what I think a well-considered scheme for leasehold 
 enfranchisement should propose. 
 
 It now remains for me to make a few observations on 
 tin- subject of land transfer, which has been attracting so 
 much attention of late. In cases of complete unencumbered 
 ownership the transfer of land has never been a matter of 
 much difficulty or expense in England, though the form of 
 transfer or purchase deed by degrees became somewhat 
 lengthy, owing to precautionary clauses termed covenants 
 for title, and covenants for productions of deeds, both of 
 which, in their best forms, are by recent statute law now 
 implied by the use of brief technical forms of expression ; 
 but the chief cause of delay and expense has been the 
 necessity to the buyer of ascertaining, and to the seller of 
 proving, that the latter has a good right or title to the 
 property. This necessitates an investigation to ascertain 
 that there is no other person having a better right or a 
 dangerous claim, and that there are no unsatisfied money 
 charges on the property. This investigation is in most 
 cases no very arduous matter, but until lately it was paid 
 for according to the amount of work done in detail, 
 which is often as much on a sale for 500 as for 
 5,000. However, about three years ago the judges, under 
 Parliamentary authority, fixed a scale of remuneration for 
 solicitors tor investigating or deducing title, and preparing 
 or perusing the purchase deed, by which buyers or sellers 
 of land, for 1,000 or less, pay their lawyers one and a-half 
 per cent, with a minimum of 3, and smaller proportionate 
 
270 MR. EDWARD HAWES ON 
 
 . .j 
 
 amounts if the purchase money is greater. This, with the 
 stamp duty of ten shillings per cent., and fees to counsel, if any 
 are paid (which is the exception on small purchases), and 
 other payments, if any, make the average expense to buyers 
 of less than 1,000 value, something under two and a-half 
 per cent., and to sellers something under two per cent. In 
 Middlesex and Yorkshire there are registries for deeds, 
 instituted in the reign of Queen Anne, with the good 
 intention of giving greater security to purchasers, but, 
 speaking of experience of that in Middlesex, I can say that 
 it is of no use to anybody, puts a large income into the 
 hands of a sinecurist, the nominal registrar, and adds on 
 the average a couple of pounds to the expense of every 
 transaction, except in the case of occupation leases, which 
 it does not affect. The cost of transfer, regulated as I have 
 mentioned, is considerably lower than in most countries of 
 Europe, including France, Holland, Belgium, and Italy, and 
 it has its advantages in privacy and often in expedition, as 
 a lawyer employed and paid by a private individual will 
 act much more expeditiously than any official can be 
 persuaded to do; but we have also a Land Transfer Act, passed 
 in 1875, which is theoretically very perfect. Under this, 
 one or more persons may, if desired and upon proof of 
 their title, be registered in the land registry as proprietors 
 for the purpose of transfer, when an. intended purchaser, 
 instead of investigating title, has simply to inspect the 
 register and ascertain that they are so free of charges 
 (which also appear on the register, if any exist), and take 
 a transfer on a penny form, which when signed has to be 
 stamped, verified by a declaration, and lodged with the 
 registrar, who in due course, and on payment of a moderate 
 ad valorem fee, puts the buyer's name on the register. 
 Other interests in land so registered may be protected by 
 what are called " cautions," which should not put a 
 purchaser to expense, but will delay him until they are 
 
THE TENURE AND TRANSFER OF LAND. '27 1 
 
 removed, and for aught I can see are likely to cause a.s 
 much delay as similar interests cause under the present 
 systems. Lawyers advise what they think best for their 
 clients, but on any individual transaction and they come 
 one by one the first step of putting a title on the register 
 is a pure and simple addition (and usually a considerable 
 one) to the expense of purchase, and is not worth while 
 unless the property is about to be cut up and resold in a 
 number of lots and, although the process would be a 
 profitable one for the purchaser's lawyer, he tells his client 
 that it will be of no present advantage, that he can hold 
 his purchase just as safely without it as with it, and can 
 put it on the register just as well, and with no greater 
 expense, at any future time if he sees any object in it, as 
 he can on the occasion of his purchase. 
 
 Some have proposed to make it compulsory on every 
 landowner to register his title within a limited period of 
 years, but one result of this, if practicable, would be to put 
 a very large sum of money into the pockets of the lawyers 
 of the country, who must be employed to do the work ; and 
 besides, what is to be done to those who decline to register ? 
 Is their land to be taken away from them, or are they 
 to be treated like, anti-vaccinationists, whose treatment 
 does not appear to be particularly successful ? No 
 the true difficulty lies, 1 believe, in the complication 
 of interests caused by life estates and long leaseholds, 
 ami if the interests in land were simplified its transfer 
 would become simple, ivgister or no register; and to use 
 the words of the Select Committee on Land Titles of 
 1^7' > "To legislate for the registration of titles, without 
 as a preliminary st-p simplifying the titles to be registered, 
 is to begin at the wrong end.'' It seems probable, 
 however, that an earnest attempt will shortly be made to 
 deal with the subject of transfer by enacting that in all 
 future dealings with land the transfers shall be 
 
272 THE TENURE AND TRANSFER OF LAND. 
 
 and that such registrations shall, in a few years, confer an 
 
 O / 
 
 absolute simple title. The plan has my good wishes, but I 
 do not expect great things from it, or believe that the 
 existing system of transfer deters anyone who wishes to 
 buy land which is offered for sale from doing so, and I 
 may add that had we the most perfect system of land laws 
 existing or attainable, I am not one of those who think 
 they would create a prosperous class of peasant proprietors, 
 or suffice, or even materially tend, to bring prosperity to 
 our agriculture. 
 
 December 7//<, 1S85. 
 
 
Charles Kings ley. 
 
 By Mr. PHILIP EDWARD PILDITCH. 
 
 T is without doubt a fact that the truest and most 
 faithful biographies or biographical sketches are 
 those in which is displayed a generous and 
 appreciative sympathy for the character and 
 objects of the man whose life is considered. Such an axiom 
 i^ most time of the man I am to speak of to-night. His 
 character, his achievements, his modes of thought, and the 
 peculiar nature, not only of the personal influence he 
 exercised while living, but also of that still exercised from 
 the pages of his works ; and the records of his noble and 
 well-spent life, are unique and singular to the man, and 
 demand peculiar and sympathetic treatment. His striking 
 individuality pervaded to so marked a degree everything he 
 wrote that it is practically impossible to disassociate the 
 man's private character and life from his public utterances 
 without losing much that is characteristic and valuable in 
 the latter. That which the man taught he practised ; the 
 touching memoirs of his wife, telling a tale of unbroken 
 Miid consistent self-denial and unselfishness in the home 
 circle, and the loving testimony of every personal friend 
 even the ungrudging evidence of the few enemies created 
 by liis strenuous, and it may be somewhat over-impulsive, 
 pursuit of truth and justice enable us to realise a picture 
 of a singularly blameless and spotless life, lived {it a 
 very liiu'h level, and in spite of a nervous and excitable 
 temperament in which most men would have found an 
 excuse for chronic peevishness and self-indulgence. 
 
 T 
 
274 Mil. PHILIP EDWARD PILD1TCH ON 
 
 The varied and, at first sight, almost inconsistent 
 character of the spheres of action in which his activities 
 found vent, render it difficult to accurately estimate Kingsley's 
 position among the worthies of his time, or to truly gauge 
 the measure and nature of his influence upon contemporary 
 life and thought. Neither has he passed from our midst long 
 enough to enable us to do this calmly and dispassionately* 
 and therefore accurately. It is comparatively easj^ to sum 
 up the value of a man's life and settle his claims to rank 
 among the great of an epoch when his work has lain in 
 some single direction, thus affording a somewhat concrete 
 basis for our conclusions, but when one man has united in 
 his single person the novelist, the ardent social reformer, 
 the poet, the parish priest, and the cathedral dignitary, 
 such a task becomes well-nigh impossible, and makes me 
 despair of giving anything like a coherent and worthy 
 account of it. And by nothing less than an all-round view 
 of him not only as the author of Hypatia and Westward 
 Ho ! but as he preaches to a few dozen rustics in his 
 village church, teaches the flower of cultivated young 
 England in the Lecture Hall of Cambridge, or is found 
 sympathising with the suffering and controlling the reckless 
 among some gathering of starving London workmen can 
 we gain a true impression of the man, or appreciate the 
 lessons contained in his works, and extract from them their 
 full meaning. 
 
 Such a picture, however, it is not my province to draw 
 to-night ; the task I have set myself is a much humbler 
 one it is to present to you, as well as I am able, a few 
 crude outlines of the teachings embodied in his life and 
 works, in the hope that, even though by accident only, the 
 spirit which underlay them may be in some measure displayed. 
 From the time that Kingsley became rector of the small 
 country parish of Eversley in Hampshire, the events of his 
 life are public property. It is a striking picture; that of 
 
CHARLES KINGSLEY. 27 o 
 
 the village parson wielding from his secluded home among 
 the Hampshire ploughboys and poachers, an intluence 
 over the cultured youth of England, and, stranger still, 
 over the excited London masses, which few politicians or 
 statesmen have exceeded. I know of no other explanation 
 for it than the transparency of the said parson's sincerity 
 and fervid zeal for the best interests of the classes I 
 have named. On a small income, with no brilliant 
 connections, no hereditary or political position, his power 
 of influencing the minds and actions of multitudes of men 
 was immense. 
 
 His efforts to improve the condition, physical as well 
 as moral and spiritual, of the rustics of his parish, are now 
 almost as \vcll known as his works, or his part in the once 
 famous Christian Socialist movement, designed by its 
 founders a few broad-thinking clergymen and University 
 men to give the disorganised mass of working men, who 
 for want of a better creed had drifted into Socialism, and 
 often something a great deal worse some leadership 
 l>eyond that of the unprincipled demagogue and revolutionist, 
 with the object of restraining them from ruinous excesses, 
 and Directing their minds to that reform in individual 
 character which is essential if there is to be any true 
 improvement in social conditions. The intensity of his 
 sympathy for Buffering and helplessness was so strong, and 
 so emphatically expressed both in and out of season, that 
 the oft told story is again repeated; his meaning and 
 object- were misunderstood, and for some of his "Parson 
 Lot" letters, contributed to a workman's paper, he was 
 aeverty denounced by tin- T'imi:*, and similar lenders or 
 followers of public opinion; and even a portion of the 
 religious Press joined iii the hue and cry against the 
 Socialist Parson," as they termed him. Socialist in the 
 invidious sense of the word Kingsley never was. Here is 
 a sample of his Socialism 
 
Mil. PHILIP EDWARD PILDITCH ON 
 
 We teach the workmen to become Christians by teaching them 
 gradually that true Socialism, true liberty and brotherhood, and true 
 equality (not the carnal dead level equality of the Communist, but the 
 spiritual equality of the Church idea, which gives every man an equal 
 chance of developing and using God's gifts, and rewards every man 
 according to his work without respect to persons) is only to be found 
 in loyalty and obedience to Christ. 
 
 It seems probable to me that had such a " Socialistic " 
 spirit been more common, and Kingsley's teachings more 
 generally and practically followed by those for whom they 
 were intended, rich as well as poor for he had a message 
 for the patrician as well as the plebeian London would 
 not now be closing her shops and crouching behind her 
 police in cowardly and terrified fear of an outbreak of the 
 wretched and lawless among her population. The true 
 earnestness and sincerity of his sympathy for those whom 
 the workings of our social systems have compelled to 
 hopeless toil and poverty, is best expressed by Alton Locke, 
 and Yeast. Alton Lo-ke created an immense sensation at 
 the time. The capitalists and employers of cheap labour 
 lost no opportunity of abusing the book and its author ; 
 many even sensible persons who had temporarily lost 
 their heads for fear lest a French revolution was about to 
 inaugurate itself, followed in the same track. But it had 
 its effect; it did the work its author intended it to do. 
 It helped in time to lessen the unreasoning distrust of the 
 lower orders which was becoming habitual amongst many 
 of the respectable classes, and to bring into closer contact 
 the various castes of which society is constituted. For as he 
 reminds us 
 
 Fraternity and equality are not mere political doctrines, but 
 blessed, God-ordained facts ; and the party walls of rank, and fashion, 
 and money, are but a paper prison of our own making, which we 
 might break through any moment by a single hearty and kindly 
 feeling. 
 
 His sympathy with the working classes never wavered, 
 although his connection with the more extreme workman's 
 
CHARLES KIXGSLEY. 277 
 
 organisations was nut maintained, for when in after years 
 lie became Canon of Chester, and afterwards one of the 
 Queen's Chaplains, and Canon of Westminster, he used the 
 influence which his position then gave him to plead 
 manfully, and with burning enthusiasm, although with 
 diminished physical force, from his pulpits in the Abbey 
 and in the Chapel Royal, for a deeper bond of sympathy 
 between the well-to-do classes and the myriads of dumb 
 toilers for whom they might, if they would, do so much. 
 
 But it is as a writer that we most intimately know 
 Kingsley, and have most occasion to thank him. But 
 few, even of his admirers as a novelist, are probably aware 
 of the wide range of subjects on which he wrote physical 
 science, history, sanitary science, theology, natural history 
 in all these branches of literature he produced numerous 
 articles and lectures, besides lyrical and dramatic poetry, 
 the perusal of which will well repay those who have only 
 read his novels, for they will find in them the same 
 qualities which constitute the charm of his larger works. 
 
 His literary style is plainly indicative of the nature 
 and temperament of the man. Straightforward, impulsive, 
 clear, persuasive, swelling frequently into a torrent of 
 burning eloquent- which few English writers have excelled, 
 falling again into a limpid stream of pure simple Saxon, 
 broken at intervals, but never obscured, by terse epigrams 
 and antitheses; Kingsley 's style is as natural and ingenuous 
 as, to make a comparison which will be easily appreciated, 
 Carlyle's is unnatural and involved. If there be a fault it 
 is perhaps that it is sometimes too brilliant, slightly over- 
 charged with metaphor and hyperbole. Who can but forgive 
 this, knowing that it is then utterly natural and unaffected 
 a perfect reflex of the man's state of mind at the moment, 
 and not the product of a forced and artificial excitement? 
 But Kingsley is f-ir from being a mere "fine writer." In 
 his highest and most eloquent flights his logical faculty 
 
278 MR. PHILIP EDWARD PILDITCH ON 
 
 never fails him. I will not pretend that Kingsley's was in 
 a high degree a mathematical or logical mind ; it was not 
 He was a poet expressing himself in prose, and the reader 
 is carried on in spite of himself, convinced, persuaded, 
 stimulated and nerved to better things, more perhaps than 
 by any other author of modern times. His style possesses 
 much of the picturesque dignity and easy flow which 
 make Ruskin the most magnificent writer of the age the 
 Burke of modern literature. It is not so carefully polished, 
 nor do his writings attain so uniformly high a standard of 
 mere literary excellence, but in the qualities of sympathetic 
 and intuitive insight, the vision gained rather by the heart 
 than by the eye or "the mind, he is immeasurably Ruskin's 
 superior. It is difficult to understand the recent savage 
 critique made by Ruskin in a daily paper upon Kingsley's 
 writings, except perhaps on the hypothesis that the greatest 
 living writer on the artistic will not allow himself to 
 
 o 
 
 appreciate the works of one so careless of the ordinary 
 conventional canons of art in his works. 
 
 There is another English writer to whose style 
 Kingsley's bears a resemblance I mean Dickens. Confining 
 one's comparision to style alone, they are more nearly alike 
 than is obvious on the surface, for it is a difference in the 
 essential motives of the two writers which renders their 
 styles more apparently dissimilar than they really are. 
 Dickens moves us alternately to pity or to laughter ; to 
 make his reader smile or weep seems to be his first object 
 and the means by which he does so purely secondary. 
 Kingsley, although far from being void of either pathos or 
 humour, aims first to elevate our minds to pure aspiration 
 and noble deed, without overmuch care for the vehicle by 
 means of which his teachings are conveyed ; but allowing 
 for these causes of apparent difference their styles seem 
 to be as much alike as is possible in the case of two men 
 of such strongly marked individualities as Kingsley and 
 
CHARLES KINGSLEY. 279 
 
 Dickens. Another quality is also common to them, viz., the 
 frequent homely simplicity and incisiveness of their illus- 
 trations. This was very apparent in Kingsley's sermons 
 from the tirst, for the bishop who examined his trial sermons 
 before ordination could only suggest that they were " too 
 colloquial." This quality of directness and plainness of 
 diction formed one of the greatest charms of his religious 
 works and render his volumes of sermons as readable now 
 as when they were published, thirty or forty years ago. 
 The man seems to have been utterly sincere and without 
 affectation ; he himself said everything spoke to him so 
 plainly of the Creator that " he saw no inconsistency in 
 making his sermons whilst cutting wood, or in talking to 
 one man about the points of a horse, and the next moment 
 to another about tin? mercy of God to sinners." 
 
 It must be admitted that as a novelist Kingsley was 
 in no sense an artist. He was always too full of his main 
 object the ethical or moral principle he wished to enforce, to 
 sp.-nd much time upon the scientific structure or plots of his 
 works. He never gave himself up to his novels as such, 
 and probably had not the patience to alter, amend, and 
 polish them for their own sakes or for the sake of abstract 
 excellence. It was enough for him if he taught the lesson 
 01- enforced the truth he had in view, and for this reason 
 it may bo that his works, adapted as they are to the needs 
 of the generation for which they are written, will not live 
 so long as others of much less intrinsic worth. But 
 though diamonds, it is true, are sometimes hastily cut, they 
 sparkle with the lustre of true brilliants, and probably as 
 brightly as if they have been more carefully set. 
 
 If there is a blemish in his works it is to be found in 
 his tendency to drop the thread of his tale and glide into 
 direct and didactic ethical teaching. It must be admitted 
 that it would have h-vn better otherwise, but the preacher 
 eoiild not forget the main business of his life, in spite of 
 
280 MR. PHILIP EDWARD PILDITCH ON 
 
 novels, or poems, or lectures. We are not partial to the 
 man who points out our failings, and urges to better 
 things, as the discussion on Carlyle showed the other day, 
 nor is the favourite of the age he who seeks to teach 
 rather than amuse, and therefore Kingsley's works are not 
 popular among the fashionably-cultured classes of the 
 community, or the mere pleasure seekers. One taste is 
 enough for the frivolous idler who, attracted by their style, 
 dips into his works, for he finds the jam is only a surface 
 covering and that the unwelcome pill has often to be 
 gulped down with it, and Kingsley is put aside for ever, 
 as a parson, who ought to have stuck to his pulpit. 
 
 Detailed criticism of his books is quite out of place in 
 a short paper like this, but I cannot help making reference 
 to Westward Ho ! as a sample of them and of the 
 characteristic spirit of the man. The superficial reader 
 may consider it a mere romance, but it is far more 
 than it seems. One cannot rise from its perusal without 
 recognising in it the same teaching that runs throughout 
 Carlyle " That which is right do it with all thy might." 
 Sartor Resartus, it is true, is the work of the prophet, 
 the warner; Westward Ho! is a poem, a translation of the 
 rude, rough message of the seer into the brighter and 
 more hopeful vernacular of the poet. It is a splendid 
 epic, having for its heroes the Elizabethan worthies ; those 
 men of his beloved Devon who carried the nag of England 
 into all the seas and planted it on every land, no matter to 
 whom belonging, and in many a suggestive passage teaching 
 us how much there was in the chivalrous and adventurous 
 spirit of our ancestors of that age which might with 
 advantage be grafted upon and incorporated with our 
 nineteenth century civilisation. 
 
 Some say the age of chivalry is past, that the spirit of romance 
 is dead. The age of chivalry is never past so long as there is a wrong 
 left unredressed on earth, or a man or a woman left to say "I will 
 redress that wrong, or spend my life in the attempt." 
 
281 
 
 Did our literature possess more such romances we should 
 want fewer sermons, and the imaginations of our youth 
 would indeed be fed with right royal food. 
 
 It takes a strong man to be broadly tolerant. Few 
 have nerve enough to be so. The world assumes connivance 
 when a man sympathises with the erring and the evildoer, 
 and there are not many who can stand the world's frown. 
 Only the one whose life is very far above suspicion, whose 
 character is supremely spotless, and who beyond all possesses 
 the courage of a Ljonidas, can afford to do so. In Two 
 Years Ago Kingsley exhibited this quality to a marked 
 degree. In it he shows his intense sympathy for the hard, 
 rough, and often erring and self-willed men of the world, 
 the Esaus, as he called them, of modern society, in the 
 person of Tom Thurnall. His wife tells us how many an 
 officer from the neighbouring military camp at Aldershot 
 rode over to the little church to see the strange parson 
 who could see down to the bottom of his wild heart so 
 clearly, and understand so well the peculiar temptations 
 and pitfalls to which his mode of life exposed him. Against 
 this work, as in the case of. many of his others, there was 
 an outcry. The severely orthodox world could not under- 
 stand a clergyman daring to express sympathy with a 
 man of Tom Thurnall's type forgetful, as Kingsley never 
 was, that a clergyman should be a man first and a priest 
 afterwards. He tells us himself that he felt his life's work 
 was rightly among such, the men of strong passions and 
 "jvat, though often misused, vitality. This tendency gave 
 him the sneering title of " The prophet of muscular 
 ( 'hristianity," a title he himself deprecated, but which his 
 disciples an- <[iiite ready to accept for him and to glory in. 
 In Dean Stanley's discriminating words 
 
 We pri/e him as one of those phenomena that break through the 
 common-place level like mountain crags, and countersect and unite the 
 ordinary divisions <>f mankind, or, like volcanoes, burst forth at times 
 
282 ME. PHILIP EDWARD PILDITCH ON 
 
 and reveal to us something of the central fires within and underneath 
 the crust of custom, fashion, and tradition. 
 
 I bought a photograph of him in the Strand the other 
 clay, and the shop assistant told me that Kingsley used 
 often to come in to buy a photo or a print smoking a 
 briarwood pipe. We can well understand how this would 
 shock many good persons, but to Kingsley it mattered little 
 whether he smoked a pipe in the solitude of his rectory 
 lawn or in the streets of London. The essentials were so 
 real, so living to him, that the mere conventionalities had 
 but slight place in his thoughts. 
 
 His finest and most scientifically planned and finished 
 work is Hypatia, which is really an epical and religious 
 drama. Its second title, New Friends with Old FIIMK, 
 emphasises this ; religious doubt, ethical problems, which, 
 examined in their essentials, we find to be synonomous with 
 those which agitate the minds of thinking men in our 
 nineteenth century, he shows us seething in the bosoms of 
 men in togas and Grecian robes, who lived when the 
 Roman Empire was convulsed with the struggles of death. 
 The Chevalier De Biinsen said of his work 
 
 It proves on the largest scale that Kingsley could discover in 
 the picture of the historical past the truly human, the deep, the per- 
 manent, and that he knew how to represent it. How with all this he 
 could hit the fresh tone of popular life, and draw humorous characters 
 and complications with Shakesperian energy, is shown by all his works. 
 " The Roman and the Teuton," a series of lectures delivered 
 at Cambridge, dealing with the death of the Roman 
 Empire, and the birth of the Teutonic nationalities affords 
 further proof in the same direction. Theodoric the Visigoth, 
 Justinian the Emperor, and Severinus the Saint become 
 persons of living interest to us. as the pages of Hypatia 
 have made Orestes and Hypatia, Raphael the Israelite, 
 and Pelagia the Greek. 
 
 Let me give you a short extract from the third lecture, 
 entitled the "Human Deluge," which will give a sample of 
 
CHARLES KIXGSLEY. 283 
 
 his literary .style, and illustrate his power of illuminating 
 the driest historical facts 
 
 I wish to give you some notion of the history of Italy for 
 nearly one hundred years say from 400 to 500. But it is very 
 difficult. Mow can a man draw a picture of that which has no 
 shape ; or tell the order of absolute disorder ? It is all a horrible 
 " fourmillenient des nations," like the working of an ant heap ; like the 
 insects devouring each other in a drop of water. Teuton tribes, 
 Sclavonic tribes, Tartar tribes, Roman generals, empresses, bishops, 
 courtiers, adventurers, appear for the moment out of the croud, 
 dim phantoms nothing more, most of them with a name appended 
 and then vanish, proving their humanity only by leaving behind them 
 one more stain of blood. And what became of the masses all the 
 while ? Of the men, slaves the greater part of them, if not all, who 
 tilled the soil, and ground the com for man must have eaten then 
 as now '. We have no hint ; one trusts that God had mercy on 
 them, if not in this world still in the world to come ; man at least 
 had none. Taking one's stand at Rome, and looking toward the 
 North, what does one see for nearly one hundred years I Wave 
 after wave rising out of the North, the land of night, and wonder, 
 and the terrible unknown ; visible only as the light of Roman 
 civilization strike their crests, and they dash against the Alps, and 
 roll over through the mountain passes into the fertile plains below. 
 Then at last they are seen but too well ; and you discover that the 
 waves are living men, women, and children, horses, dogs, and cattle, 
 all rushing headlong with that great whirlpool of Italy ; and yet the 
 gulf is never full. 
 
 His porm> are not many, but most of them show signs 
 of considerable poetic genius; the "Three Fishers," which 
 we all read at school, ''The Outlaw," and " Adromeda," 
 writti-n in Longfellow's metre, among them, and the grand 
 "Ode to the North-East Wind," the wind that eventually 
 
 killed him 
 
 Welcome, wild north-easter ! 
 
 Shame it is to see 
 Odes to every zephyr ; 
 
 Ne'er a verso to thee. 
 
 * * * 
 
 What's the soft south-wester .' 
 'Tis the ladies' breeze, 
 
284 MR. PHILIP EDWARD PILDITCH ON 
 
 Bringing home their true loves 
 Out of all the seas. 
 
 But the black north-easter, 
 
 Through the snowstorm hurled, 
 Drives our English hearts of oak 
 
 Seaward round the world. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Come, as came our fathers, 
 
 Heralded by thee ; 
 Conquering from the eastward 
 
 Lords by land and sea. 
 
 Come, and strong within us 
 
 Stir the Viking's blood : 
 Bracing nerve and sinew ; 
 
 Blow, thou wind of God. 
 
 For deep pathos there is little in the English language 
 that can beat " The Sands of Dee " ; and some of his rustic 
 pieces dealing with the impoverished and vice-breeding 
 conditions of life of the peasantry are intensely passionate, 
 with gleams of a grim and almost Carlylean irony which 
 must have made them far from pleasant reading to many a 
 selfish and careless squire of the generation that lias just 
 passed away. For true fun and good humour, with 
 that dash of quaint pathos which sets the humour in 
 high relief, there are few happier pieces than the " Last 
 Buccaneer "- 
 
 Oh, England is a pleasant place for them that's rich and high, 
 But England is a cruel place for such poor folks as I ; 
 And such a port for mariners I ne'er shall see again, 
 As the pleasant Isle of Aves, beside the Spanish main. 
 
 There were forty craft in Aves that were both swift and stout, 
 All furnished well with small arms, and cannons round about, 
 And a thousand men in Aves made laAvs so fair and free 
 To choose their valiant captains, and obey loyally. 
 
 Thence we sailed against the Spaniard, with his hoard of plate and gold, 
 Which he wrung with cruel tortures from Indian folk of old ; 
 Likewise the merchant captains, with hearts as hard as stone, 
 Who flog men, and keelhaul them, and starve them to the bone. 
 
' IIARLES KTNGSLEY. 285 
 
 Oil ! the palms grew high on Aves, and fruits that shone like gold, 
 And the colibras and parrots, they were gorgeous to behold, 
 And the negro maids to Aves, from bondage fast did flee 
 To welcome gallant sailors a sweeping in from sea. 
 
 Oh, sweet it was in Aves to hear the windward breeze, 
 A swing, with good tobacco, in a net between the trees, 
 With a negro lass to fan you, while you listened to the roar 
 Of the breakers, 011 the reef outside, that never touched the shore. 
 
 But Scripture saith an ending to all fine things must be, 
 So the King's ships sailed on Aves, and quite put down were we, 
 All day we fought like bull-dogs, but they burst the booms at night, 
 And I fled in a piragua, sore wounded from the fight. 
 
 Nine days I floated starving, and a negro lass beside, 
 
 Till for all I tried to cheer her the poor young thing she died ; 
 
 But as T lay a gasping a Bristol sail came by, 
 
 And brought me home to England, here to beg until I die. 
 
 And now I'm old and going I'm sure I can't tell where, 
 
 One comfort is this world's so hard I can't be worse off there ; 
 
 Tf I might but be a sea dove, I'd fly across the main, 
 
 To the pleasant Isle of Aves, to look at it once again. 
 
 I take a very high view indeed of the value of Kingsley's 
 work as a religious teacher, which phase of his life, 
 however, the laws of this institution will not allow me to 
 dwell upon; yet some reference must, I feel, be made to 
 it. His great work in this direction lay in his ready 
 perception and exposition of the fact that the truths of 
 Christianity are not really antagonistic to the great modern 
 discoveries of scientists. He was one of the very few 
 Church of England clergymen who have made a profound 
 study of the physical sciences. He was an intensely 
 earnest student of natural history, geology, botany, and 
 kindred subjects, and could spend with pleasure and 
 profit whole weeks hunting out the treasures of a strip of 
 sandy short', or investigating the flora and fauna of some 
 apparently commonplace, uninteresting village. It is only 
 a few weeks since that the Primate told in public an 
 anecdote which well illustrates his love of natural science. 
 
280 ME. PHILIP EDWARD PILDITCH ON 
 
 He said he was going with Kingsley to a dinner party 
 one summer evening, when they happened to pass 
 a dirty looking pond, and some discussion having taken 
 place upon its supposed inhabitants, Kingsley, stripping off 
 his coat and plunging his arm up to the elbow in the 
 muddy water with the observation, "In the name of science 
 come out," solved the doubt in a practical manner, by 
 bringing forth a handful of the animalcuUe he was looking 
 for. It was this intelligent interest in and knowledge of 
 the physical life of the world which led him to discard 
 what he termed "the old monastic theory, that this earth 
 is the devil's planet, fallen, accursed, goblin haunted, 
 needino- to be exorcised at every turn bsfore it is useful 
 
 o / 
 
 or even safe to man," a theory which his deeply reverent 
 nature revolted against. To him a knowledge of all 
 branches of sciences was quite compatible with an all- 
 pervading belief in the God of the Christian, and in this 
 respect his works, and particularly his published volumes of 
 sermons, have formed a ledge of strength and security on 
 which many a weak and doubting soul has found what it 
 needed. But I am trespassing too far on the forbidden 
 ground and must retrace my steps. 
 
 But my time is gone, and I must not any longer tax 
 your patience. Kingsley was doubtless mistaken in his 
 views on some subjects, his volcanic temperament rendered 
 it impossible that it should be otherwise, but none saw his 
 failings more clearly than he did himself, or were more 
 ready to admit and deplore them, for he had a full share 
 of the modesty of true genius. But I claim for him that 
 he laid down for himself a high and noble standard of 
 life, and lived up to it, and by his works helped 
 myriads of others to approximate nearer a high ideal ; 
 that every individual mind he has touched, and every 
 home circle in which his books are known has been 
 elevated and purified, and invigorated by the contact; 
 
CHAHLKS KINGSLEY. 287 
 
 that lie has strengthened the weak and helpless with a 
 brighter and nobler hope, and softened the heart of many 
 a hard and reckless one by pleadings of infinite tenderness 
 and sympathy; opened a path for the wandering outcast 
 back to hope and self-respect, and inspired many an 
 idler to rise from his indolence and struggle again. His 
 song, enforced with impetuous and never resting intensity, 
 is ever 
 
 Do noble things, not dream them, all day long, 
 And so make life, death, and that vast for ever, 
 
 One grand, sweet song. 
 
 I am hopeful that one good, if only one, may result 
 from this dim and feeble sketch of a noble life, for 
 
 \\\- cannot look, however imperfectly, upon a great man without 
 gaining something by him. He is a living light fountain, which it is 
 good and pleasant to be near. The light which enlightens the darkness 
 of the world, and this not as a kindled lamp only, but rather as a 
 natural luminary shining by the gift of heaven ; a flowing light fountain 
 of native original insight ; of manhood and heroic nobleness in whose 
 radiance all souls feel that it is well with them. 
 And surely such a man was Charles Kingsley. 
 
 1886. 
 
Notes on Libraries and Books" 
 
 By Mr, FRANK PACT, Librarian, Richmond Free 
 Public Library. 
 
 a Richmond audience the subject of Libraries 
 may well prove one of general interest. The 
 inhabitants of this town set an excellent 
 example in adopting the Public Libraries Acts, 
 an example which has been quickly followed by some of 
 the neighbouring parishes. The good effects of the movement 
 in the district are apparent, therefore it is not my intention 
 to make any special mention of local library matters, with 
 which you are well acquainted, but to treat the question as 
 far as possible from an all-round point of view. At the 
 outset I would ask your kind indulgence, for what I must 
 term my temerity in ottering opinions in a field which 
 should be traversed by someone more competent than 
 myself. 
 
 Until a few years ago the first publication of which we 
 had any knowledge was the Decalogue, or Ten Command- 
 ments, written on stone, and read by Moses to the Children 
 of Israel from Mount Sinai ; but recent researches have 
 brought to light the remains of ancient libraries which 
 existed as i'ar l.aek as 2,000 years ];.<'. Probably the first 
 mat ''rials used for the spread of literature were stone and 
 clay, and these t\v> substane.-s wre made available for that 
 purpose during the course of many ages. In 1850 Sir Austin 
 Layard discovered amongst the remains of the Palace at 
 Nineveh that the floors of many of the chambers were 
 covered with tablets of clay, inscribed with various cuneiform 
 
 v 
 
290 MR, FRANK PACT ON 
 
 characters. These tablets formed the library of the Assyrian 
 monarch Assur-bani-pal, who flourished 067-625 B.C., and 
 which consisted of about ten thousand volumes or tablets 
 A much earlier library, that of Sargon, King of Assyria 
 (circa 2,000 B.C.), situated at Agane, was composed of these 
 clay tablets or books, each one being numbered, so that just 
 as at the present time, the student had only to note a 
 number from the catalogue for these libraries had catalogues 
 and give it to the librarian, who then handed him 
 the required book. My authority for these particulars is 
 Professor Sayce, who has written largely on the ancient 
 history of Assyria. 
 
 Succeedino- stone, we find the material used by scribes 
 
 O J 
 
 and litterateurs was papyrus paper, made from the reed of 
 that plant, and which continued in use until the discovery 
 of parchment (190 B.C.). The Ptolemies, during their reign 
 over Egypt, prohibited the exportation of papyrus from that 
 country, in the fear that the kings of Pergamus should 
 form a library equal to that of Alexandria, which was the 
 most famous one of ancient times, containing upwards of 
 400,000 MSS. This most remarkable collection was burned 
 at the taking of the city by Cresar (47 B.C.). A second 
 library was formed, consisting of 700,000 volumes, and this 
 also was totally destroyed at the conquest of the city by 
 the Saracens, who heated the water in their baths for six 
 months by burning books instead of wood, at the command 
 of the Caliph Omar, A.D. 642. 
 
 From the date of the invention of papyrus paper first 
 begins the real history of books. Large collections of 
 writings were made in the countries of Egypt, Greece, 
 Pergamus, and in the cities of Rome, Constantinople, and 
 others. The kings of Pergamus vied with the Egyptian 
 rulers in encouraging literary tastes among their subjects, 
 and in spite of the obstacles thrown in their way by the 
 attempt to withhold proper materials, the library of the 
 
LIBRARIES AND BOOKS. 291 
 
 Attali was formed, consisting of 200,000 volumes. Books 
 with leaves of vellum wore invented by Attains, king of 
 Pergamus, about 198 B.C., previous to which time they 
 were in volumes or rolls. The credit of founding the first 
 library for public use is accorded by Pliny and Ovid to 
 the Roman consul, Asinius Pollio, who died A.D. 4. The 
 cost he defrayed from the spoils of his Illyrian campaign. 
 His example was followed by many of the Roman emperors. 
 The Romans, from the time of the last century of the 
 Republic, carefully cultivated studious and reading habits 
 among the people, thus atoning for their previous neglect 
 whilst engrossed in warfare and conquest. The excavations 
 at Herculaneum and Pompeii led to the discovery of a 
 library containing 1,756 MSS., methodically arranged in 
 w<-ll -constructed presses. 
 
 Passing over successive periods to mediaeval times, the 
 cause of literature and the charge of books are found to 
 have laid almost entirely in the hands of the monastic 
 clergy. Knowledge for its own sake gave way to religious 
 teaching, and opposition to pagan literature long continued 
 to be the main object of monastic writings. To the monks 
 we arc indebted for a great number of the beautiful 
 manuscripts which are now treasured up in the various 
 public and private collections of this and continental 
 countries, as much of their leisure time was employed in 
 illuminating these manuscripts, there being no popular 
 requirement for them, and not only were the Bibles and 
 missals profusely illustrated, but even the historical records 
 and law books were gorgeous in colouring. So valuable 
 and rare were these publications that two or three formed 
 a posseiun to the rich and cultured man, equivalent in 
 value to the large collections of books, pictures, and works 
 of art, now to be seen at many of the seats of the wealthy 
 aristocracy. It was at this time that the early book 
 pedlars or hawkers flourished; they were called Stationarii, 
 
292 MR. FRANK PACT ON 
 
 probably because they stationed themselves at booths or 
 stalls in the different fairs, and sometimes in the porches 
 of churches. It is not generally known that in the 
 middle ages the only markets for the sale of books were 
 the early fairs of this country and on the continent. The 
 fair at Sturb ridge, near Cambridge, was one of the most 
 important, the principal purchasers of books being the 
 professors and students of the University. The professors 
 both of Oxford and Cambridge attended also most of the 
 continental book fairs, notably the celebrated one at 
 Frankfort, where the first booksellers in Germany are said 
 to have commenced their business. 
 
 Books in the middle ages were scarce objects of beauty 
 entirely inaccessible to any but a select few, consequently 
 the inventions of paper in the fourteenth (1319) and 
 printing in the fifteenth (c. 1440) centuries may fairly be 
 looked on as those conferring the greatest benefit upon 
 mankind. When considering the near approach made to 
 printing by stamping characters on baked bricks, and the 
 different processes of engraving on seals, coins, &c., practised 
 by the ancients, it may be wondered why the invention 
 did not come to light long before this time, but of course 
 without suitable and cheap paper it was not possible, and 
 neither did the ancients possess proper ink ; that used by 
 them, owing to the lack of oiliness in its composition, 
 would have produced on the vellum nothing but a mass of 
 unequal blotches. Nor was the world so ready for its 
 reception after the fifth and sixth centuries as in the 
 classic periods, for during the barbarian ages the traces of 
 literature and civilization were nearly all destroyed. We 
 know how eagerly the travelling minstrels were, in time of 
 peace, welcomed at the baronial castles, where the lord and 
 his retainers, when not engaged in warfare, or pursuing 
 the different sports and pastimes of the age, had absolutely 
 no means of profitably occupying the many leisure hours 
 
LIBRARIES AND HOOKS. 
 
 falling upon their hands. All ceased their reckless feastings 
 and carousals to gather round tin- bard, who was then the 
 only means by which information of the surrounding world 
 could be obtained, and who entertained his hearers with 
 soul-stirring tales of love and war. He was the living 
 biographer and historian of his day. The minstrels 
 iloiulshed for about a century and a half. 
 
 In the sixteenth century comes a startling change, 
 ignorance and barbarism rapidly being put to rout. 
 ( Vrtainly the Elizabethan period must be regarded as the 
 most brilliant time of literary activity in the annals of our 
 country, producing as it did most of the great philosophers, 
 poets. and dramatists. It is but necessary to mention the 
 names of Shakespeare, Spenser, Milton, Ben Jonson, Ascham, 
 Bacon, Raleigh, and Sidney, standing prominently out from 
 amongst a host of contemporaries. In 1526 and 1534 
 were published editions of Tyndale's translation of the 
 Scriptures. And what were its effects, apart from the 
 influence of its teaching, which is incontrovertible ? By 
 penetrating into the hands of all classes of the English 
 people, it fixed the English tongue, and has done everything 
 to ensure the permanence and position of our language at 
 the present time. I think we may believe that it gave 
 the impulse for reading to the English people, and reading 
 has ever been one of their leading characteristics. We 
 share with the German nation this love of reading, and 
 together with them far outstrip all other peoples in the 
 pursuit of knowledge. Many of you will have read an 
 amusing little book by a French writer, M. Max O'Rell, 
 entitled John Ball "//'/ l>'i* I*l<i,x/. I may here quote 
 from it a line or two upon this subject of the English 
 taste for reading. The author says 
 
 Everybody in England can read and does read. The most 
 insignificant village cobbler has a little library, or at least a few 
 books on the table of his modest parlour. We must, of course, 
 except the lower classes of London, but they are (juite a distinct 
 
294 MR. FRANK PACY ON 
 
 population, such as you will find in no other country. In France 
 the labourer's wife has her old missal, but it is in Latin ; of what 
 use is it to her ? In this country these worthy people all have 
 their Bible, written in a language both simple and lofty ; all have 
 read it, and will read it again. 
 
 We should indeed be grateful for the facilities for 
 reading enjoyed by the poorest man amongst us; not only 
 can books be bought cheaply, but should we be unable to 
 purchase even cheap books, thanks to the development of 
 the library movement, they can, in very many cases, be 
 consulted for nothing. Books are provided in our hospitals, 
 sometimes in the workhouses, and even the prisons have 
 their libraries. A library established for the free and 
 unrestricted use of all classes of the community, also takes 
 the place of a private one for each individual, and there 
 are few who, even if they cared to do so, could gather 
 together several thousands of useful and entertaining books. 
 
 It is hardly necessary for me to dwell long upon the 
 desirability of, and advantages accruing from the establish- 
 ment of public libraries. Anyone regularly frequenting 
 one of these institutions may see day by day the great 
 educating influence they exert, and what can possibly be of 
 greater importance to the country than its educational 
 progress ? We now have schools as free perhaps as it is 
 possible to make them, and it is a duty, nay, it is a 
 necessity, that our adult population should be provided 
 with an advanced course of this free education. There is 
 every reason to hope that in the course of a few years this 
 will be effectually done by means of free libraries, which 
 have been aptly termed the " people's colleges." I trust the 
 time is not a great way off when we may expect that every 
 community, however small, will have situated in its midst 
 a public library suitable to its wants. The large towns, 
 with limited funds for library purposes, find that every 
 available pound is swallowed up by present working 
 expenses; but with increased incomes the town authorities 
 
LIBRARIES AND BOOKS. 295 
 
 would doubtless be always ready to extend the good work 
 to surrounding suburbs or adjoining townships. If the 
 smaller parishes would agree to contribute their mite in 
 the shape of the legal penny rate, branch libraries could 
 be maintained, and books, periodicals, &c., circulated thereto 
 at a far smaller cost, and the whole thing worked on a 
 much better scale than could be accomplished by forming 
 in each small place a miserable little library, doomed to be 
 always struggling in the effort to keep up an impoverished 
 and feeble existence, and to a large extent dependent for 
 ways and means upon precarious charity. 
 
 It is encouraging to look back upon the work done 
 during the past few years (there are now about 130 free 
 libraries in the United Kingdom), but at the same time 
 there is a counterbalancing disappointment when we notice 
 the laggards among our large and crowded cities ; notable 
 instances being Edinburgh and Hull, but the post of 
 dishonour is taken by the first capital of the world. 
 In Edinburgh, when efforts have been made to obtain the 
 adoption of the Acts, it has been argued that there are 
 already a large number of excellent libraries in the city, 
 therefore that there is no need of free libraries. The 
 rxistt-m-c of good libraries must of course be admitted, 
 but it is a selfish argument. Because the members of 
 professions, and the well-to-do middle classes are sufficiently 
 provided with literature which they can easily afford to 
 pay for, it should be considered an additional incentive to 
 them to accord the same advantages to their less fortunate 
 bivtlnvn. whose pecuniary position does not enable them to 
 s | >are the necessary amount entitling them to share these 
 privileges. 
 
 I previously (juoted a French writer's opinion of the 
 lower classes of London; it is not a favourable one, and 
 undoubtedly there is great truth in his remarks. But to 
 whom should tin* blame be attributed *. The working 
 
296 MR. FRANK PACY ON 
 
 classes of London seem badly off indeed, when their 
 condition is compared with those of the provinces. What 
 wonder that they do not read when no free opportunity of 
 doing so is given them. Incalculable good might be done 
 with even a half-penny in the pound levied on the rates 
 for the purpose of maintaining free libraries in the large 
 parishes of the metropolis. Once establish a good public 
 library in a proper quarter of the east end of London, and 
 the demand for others would become so strong that in a very 
 short time we should find not two or three as at present 
 (and two of these entirely supported by private munificence), 
 but perhaps a dozen handsome and useful institutions 
 educating the masses in thousands. By parochial authorities 
 and the ratepayers not of London only, but of the country 
 generally, a public library ought to be considered an 
 excellent municipal investment. Surely everything that 
 can relieve the monotony, and oftentimes enforced idleness, 
 and encourage a more refined taste among the inhabitants, 
 is a desirable thing to be aimed at. There are hundreds 
 of persons who regularly make use of these institutions 
 whose time would otherwise be unprofitably and in some 
 cases dangerously employed, and certainly the men and 
 youth of any town, failing reasonable occupation and 
 amusement, are tempted to dispose of their wages, always 
 hardly earned, in a foolish and wasteful manner. 
 
 It is my desire to say a few words upon one or 
 two special subjects in connection with the working of a 
 public library. Assuming that it is firmly established and 
 the doors daily opened to all comers; this is not all. 
 Every effort should be put forth to make its usefulness 
 apparent and to increase its popularity. I am frequently 
 surprised at the lack of knowledge shown by many visitors 
 respecting the maintenance and uses of free libraries. 
 Often they cannot realise that there can possibly be any 
 means by which they are helped to information without 
 
LIBRARIES AND BOOKS. 297 
 
 having to put the hand into the pocket, and, even in 
 Richmond, time after time we are asked by some grateful 
 individual, "What have I to pay?" 
 
 Whatever may be the industries of a certain neigh- 
 bourhood, in the libraries of the district should be formed 
 collections, as complete as possible, of the works bearing 
 upon these local industries. The workman can then add 
 both to his practical and theoretical knowledge, and thereby 
 rise to eminence in his trade. My work in a large 
 library, situated in the midst of the Lancashire coalfield 
 and cotton district, brought me into intimate relations 
 with the miners and operatives. Evening after evening 
 might be seen colliers and workers in iron all diligently 
 pursuing their studies in the intervals of attending classes 
 at the Mining and Mechanical School. By these means 
 they gain certificates which qualify them for managerships 
 and various subordinate engineering posts, besides which, 
 not content with the professional knowledge required for 
 examination tests, they are anxious to obtain every 
 information respecting the geological formation of the 
 different strata in which their work lies. These working 
 miners and cotton operatives have their clubs and 
 gatherings, where they read and. discuss intelligently 
 political, scientific, and religious theories. I venture to 
 say that the Free Library in the town I speak of has 
 been the means of helping numbers of men to become 
 perfect masters of their work, thus, in many cases, 
 improving to a gratifying extent their position in the 
 world. Often have they, in their rough northern dialect, 
 expressed to me the gratitude they felt to the two generous 
 donors who had given them a splendid library at the 
 cost of 80,000. Whilst speaking of Lancashire readers, 
 it will perhaps not be inopportune to mention one little 
 incident which has occurred to me. A working man, 
 having obtained a copy of the Ethics of Aristotle in the 
 
298 MR. PRANK PACY ON 
 
 Greek, was observed by one of the librarians to be intently 
 gazing at the pages while holding the book upside down, 
 and on his remarking to this ardent student that, not being 
 acquainted with the language, it would be better for him 
 to exchange the volume for an English version, he at once 
 met with the response that unless he (the reader) made an 
 attempt he probably never would be able to decipher the 
 original text. 
 
 Another point which I particularly wish to note is the 
 desirability of forming local collections of books. By local 
 collections I mean books bearing in any way upon the 
 topographical, biographical, and literary history of the town 
 and county. This must be a somewhat difficult matter 
 where the funds are very limited. Take only one instance. 
 It would be impossible for us at Richmond to provide out 
 of one year's income for the purchase of a single work, a 
 sum of fifty guineas, yet this is the value of a fine copy 
 of Manning and Bray's Antiquities of Surrey, a work 
 which I hope will eventually enrich our shelves. Much help 
 can be, and is accorded by means of donations, and I would 
 take this opportunity of expressing our gratitude to those 
 who have already assisted the Library Committee in this 
 matter. The district which surrounds us, through its old 
 and varied associations, offers a grand field for historical 
 and antiquarian research, and I should be glad to see the 
 Public Library prove of practical use to everyone engaged 
 in pursuit of this special knowledge. Anything having a 
 local interest, however small and seemingly insignificant or 
 worthless, may in future years be of the greatest value as 
 throwing some light on the history of the district in our 
 own times. Old prints, newspaper cuttings, letters, &c., 
 relating to local celebrities, can all be made useful if 
 carefully preserved and brought into some form of order, 
 chronologically or otherwise. I contend that the public 
 library is the most proper and safest receptacle for any 
 
LIBRARIES AND BOOKS. 299 
 
 special collections to be lodged. I say the safest advisedly, 
 for it might be thought that libraries bequeathed to churches 
 and public schools would be carefully and jealously guarded 
 and added to. Here I may quote an extract from a 
 paper read to the Library Association by Mr. R. C. Christie, 
 chancellor of the Diocese of Manchester, on the "Old 
 Church and School Libraries of Lancashire." He says 
 
 There can be no doubt that during the sixteenth and seventeenth, 
 and part of the eighteenth centuries, large numbers of books were 
 given to the churches and schools, not only in this, but in other 
 counties, which, either by the carelessness, or, I fear must be added, 
 in some cases the dishonesty of their custodians, have now absolutely 
 disappeared. 
 
 Now the contents of the public libraries are not likely 
 to suffer in this respect. The present state of many of 
 the cathedral, church, and school libraries is evidence of 
 the lax manner in which they have been cared for (save 
 the mark !). Numbers of the books have been " borrowed " 
 from their shelves, and we know the fate of the majority 
 of borrowed books. Tales have been whispered about rare 
 tomes occasionally turning up at the houses of resident 
 canons, and sometimes being rescued at the last minute 
 from the effects of a defunct dean. Of course no dean or 
 canon could be blamed for having the loan of a book, but 
 surely the duties of even an honorary librarian might 
 reasonably include that of seeing that it was returned when 
 done with. 
 
 One of the greatest elements contributing to the future 
 success and undiminished popularity of the town library is 
 the careful fostering of juvenile reading. We must try to 
 inculcate a taste in children which will be the means of 
 affording their minds healthy recreation and knowledge. A 
 tail- number of books suitable for children's use should be 
 placed upon the library shelves. Tales and lighter reading 
 are most likely to be first wanted by the young reader, 
 and by all means let him have these, taking care that they 
 
300 MR, FRANK PACY OK 
 
 are judiciously selected from the works of the best writers, 
 and above all absolutely rejecting everything of an objection- 
 able character. The " penny dreadful " class of literature 
 circulates to a deplorable extent among boys, more especially 
 those dwelling in towns. Pernicious writings, in which the 
 criminal is held up to approbation as a hero whose deeds 
 are worthy of imitation, prove a fruitful source of juvenile 
 crime. The issue of such publications should be treated as 
 a punishable offence by our laws. In the columns of the 
 Daily Telegraph I recently saw a proposal that penny 
 editions of Robinson Crusoe, Masterman Heady, or the 
 Wild Sports of the West, and the lives of such men as 
 Gordon, Nelson, Wellington, and all our naval and military 
 heroes, should take the place of the mischievous gutter 
 literature which now diffuses its poison unseen among the 
 youth of England ; and an excellent paper by Mr. G. 
 Salmon, entitled " What Boys Read," appeared in the 
 February number of the Fortnightly Review, in which the 
 writer gives a catalogue of bright aud healthy literature 
 suitable for the reading of the young. It has been suggested 
 that the schoolmaster and librarian should co-operate with 
 a view to proper supervision over the home reading of the 
 children with whom they have to deal. This does not 
 mean a removal of the parents' responsibility : unfortunately 
 many parents do not exercise a sufficient control over the 
 books placed in their children's hands. It is not easy to 
 work out any thoroughly good plan for providing accom- 
 modation for children in a small library, where their 
 presence is often, and not unreasonably, objected to by the 
 older readers. In Manchester the difficulty has been 
 overcome in a practical manner by the opening on every 
 evening of entirely separate reading rooms for boys, and 
 from the last annual report of the libraries it appears that 
 no less than 315,559 volumes have been used by boys alone. 
 Truly in this case the supply has brought forth the demand. 
 
LIBRARIES AND BOOKS. 301 
 
 I need say but a few words upon the reading of 
 adults. The subject has been well ventilated by the recent 
 discussion on " The Best Hundred Books." It is, I think, 
 impossible to select from the writings of all ages, one 
 hundred books which would be of equal interest to two 
 persons taken haphazard from the multitude of reading 
 men and women. I was amused, but not surprised, to see 
 that Mr. Ruskin " blottesquely " erased about sixty per 
 cent, from the list compiled by Sir John Lubbock. Each 
 man must have some special taste and individuality of 
 mind which would not allow him to accept completely the 
 opinion of another, however well qualified to speak in the 
 matter. As Professor Max Miiller tells us 
 
 The best books are not the best books for everybody. 
 Take the most famous writers, those whose names you would find on 
 every list of the " Best Books," and you will see that what is called 
 .ijold by one critic is called rubbish by another. 
 
 Tin 1 lists of books published in the Pall Mall Gazette seem 
 to have been compiled more as a guide to well-educated 
 young men, such as those leaving the public schools and 
 universities. I think there would, be a greater possibility 
 of rendering useful assistance if some eminent literary men 
 would make more elementary lists, suitable to the wants of 
 would-be readers who are not so well grounded as to be 
 able to understand and appreciate Eastern poetry, and who 
 had better read modern European history before taking up 
 the writings of Herodotus, Xenophon, Tacitus, and other 
 classic historians. 
 
 In supplying a library with books and papers a liberal 
 Catholicism must be exercised. All classes, both of general 
 and special readers, should be catered for, otherwise the 
 library will rapidly decay. Books of a lighter and 
 entertaining character ought not to be omitted, for we must 
 remember that a large proportion of those making use of 
 a newly-formed public library are only just entering upon 
 
302 MR. FRANK PACY ON 
 
 a definite course of reading, and by first interesting and 
 amusing, we help them to a fondness for literature which 
 ultimately leads them to Avorks of a higher kind requiring 
 a greater amount of thought and study. 
 
 The attention of library authorities has lately been 
 directed to the advisability of making efforts to obtain free 
 grants of Government publications as issued, including 
 papers presented to Parliament, and the publications of the 
 different departments such as the Admirality, the Ordnance 
 and Geological Surveys, the Master of the Rolls, and others, 
 all of which contain a large amount of valuable scientific 
 and historical information. In August last a deputation 
 from the Library Association waited upon the First Lord 
 of the Treasury and explained at length the views of the 
 members. The result has been that the Treasury find 
 objections to the course suggested which they look upon as 
 insurmountable, but they have agreed to allow five 
 libraries 25 per cent, off published prices on all publications 
 issued from Her Majesty's Stationery Office. The libraries 
 will not be much benefited b}^ this concession, because 
 nearly all Government documents have previously been 
 obtained from the trade agents subject to this same 
 reduction. During the year ending March, 1885, 359,000 
 was spent by Government in printing the various publications. 
 The amount received from their sale was 34,810, while 
 the vast numbers of surplus copies were sold as waste 
 paper, and realised 11,511. This is not as it should be; 
 the public who pay these bills for printing have some 
 right to the use of the matter printed, and it would only 
 be an act of justice that the free libraries should receive 
 gratuitous copies, which simply means a few hundreds loss 
 to the Treasury, in having a less quantity of valuable 
 information sold as waste paper to the different tradesmen, 
 by whom it is used for wrapping up their goods, chiefly 
 edibles. I do not know whether the literary fragments 
 
LIBRARIES AND BOOKS. 303 
 
 placed round the groceries or the fish are much appreciated 
 l.y tin.- domestics in the servants' halls. It would be 
 ungrateful not to mention that Richmond, as well as other 
 towns, did receive last year 165 volumes of the Rolls 
 Publications from the surplus copies in the hands of the 
 Controller of the Stationery Office. This being a valuable 
 grant lias made us anxious to procure others. 
 
 I am afraid that many critical minds will look upon 
 the title of this paper as somewhat deceptive, in that I 
 have but lightly touched upon books as distinct from their 
 homes the libraries. There has not been time to dwell 
 upon bibliographical facts or curiosities, or to supply any 
 particulars respecting Book Lore and Bibliomania. In a short 
 paper on books it would only be possible to treat of those 
 of one particular period or some special class. I have 
 chosen rather to give prominence to two or three practical 
 points in connection with libraries, but it may be best to 
 close with a few figures on the extent of the literature of 
 the world. In this country something like five or six 
 thousand works are annually issued from the press, 
 exclusive of the large quantity of periodical literature. 
 About the same number are published in France, and 
 considerably more in Germany. It has been estimated, but 
 it can be nothing more than an estimate, that since the 
 commencement of printing about twelve million distinct works 
 have been given to the world. At no time more than 
 the present does the passage from the Book of Ecclesiastes 
 apply "Of making many books there is no end." Our 
 great National Library at the British Museum, founded 1753, 
 contains upwards of 1,500,000 volumes and 50,000 MSS. ; 
 while the Bibliotheque Nationale, at Paris, founded 1595, 
 has i.:>tK).00<) printed volumes and 80,000 MSS. In 1875 
 there were in Berlin seventy-two libraries, with over a 
 million and a quarter of printed volumes. From a report 
 published in 1876 it appears that there were then in the 
 
304 LIBRARIES AND BOOKS. 
 
 United States of America 3,842 public libraries, with upwards 
 of 12,500,000 volumes. By collecting together the distinct 
 editions of works by or relating to any well-known author, 
 large special libraries are formed, as for example the 
 Shakespeare Memorial Libraries at Birmingham and 
 Stratford-upon-Avon, which contain not only English, but 
 everything that can be gathered together of Foreign 
 Shakespeariana. The Bible has been published in no less than 
 10,000 separate editions. Mrs. Beecher Stowe's tale, Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin, a book which stirred the hearts of nations 
 to their greatest depths, and was ultimately the means of 
 giving universal liberty to man, has been printed in 
 upwards of forty editions, besides which it has been 
 translated into every European language and numerous 
 Oriental ones. 
 
 We cannot estimate the great and good influence of 
 books ; they serve alike in the interests of truth, humanity, 
 and religion, by producing reflection and inducing investiga- 
 tion. In the words of Milton- 
 Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a progeny 
 of life in them as active as that soul whose progeny they are nay, 
 they do preserve as in a vial, the purest efficacy of that living intellect 
 which bred them. 
 Oarlyle said 
 
 Of the things which man can do or make here below, by far the 
 most momentous, wonderful, and worth} 7 are the things we call books. 
 To conclude with two lines of Sir John Denham, the 
 Royalist poet 
 
 Books should to one of these four ends conduce, 
 For wisdom, piety, delight, or use. 
 
 April 5th, 188G. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
Mrs. Kendalls Recital : A Brilliant 
 Afternoon. 
 
 From the Richmond and Twickenham Times of April 25th, 1885. 
 
 ELDOM lias a Richmond audience enjoyed so rich a 
 treat as that which was presented to the members 
 of the Athenaeum and their friends on Saturday 
 afternoon. That their expectations had reached a 
 high point was evident from the fact that a quarter of an hour 
 before the time for commencing the College Hall was nearly full, 
 and by three o'clock the capacity of the hall was taxed to its utmost. 
 Extra seats were brought in, the platform itself was crowded, even 
 standing room was eagerly occupied, and then some who had 
 disregarded the injunction to "come early" had to turn away 
 disappointed, the hall being so full that they could not get inside 
 the door. And if expectations ran high they were more than justified. 
 From first to last, whether reading or reciting, Mrs. Kendal was 
 listened to with that close absorbed attention which shows how keen 
 is the enjoyment, and how great is the anxiety that not a word, a 
 gesture, or a look should be lost. Commencing rather quietly, with 
 some of the earlier scenes from As yon Like It, Mrs. Kendal soon 
 rose to her task, and voice, eyes, face, and hands were all employed 
 in giving expression and life to thoughts which Shakespeare could 
 only indicate by his words. The naivete' of Rosalind in the earlier 
 scenes, and her archness when with Orlando in the forest, were 
 admirably pourtrayed ; indeed throughout this character was 
 represented in a manner which must have made a lasting impression 
 on all present. Even the other characters, with which Mrs. Kendal 
 must necessarily have been less familiar, received a treatment which 
 none but those endowed with genius could bestow. There was 
 scarcely any applause during the reading, for all were anxious that 
 not a word should be lost, but at its close the applause was hearty 
 and unanimous. The other selection given by Mrs. Kendal was one 
 of those wonderful pictures of life for which we are indebted to 
 
 
KEXDAL'S RECITAL. 
 
 1 
 
 Mr. G. R. Sims. "Ostler Joe" is a touching story of a wife's sin 
 ;iii<l the loving faithfulness of the humble ostler husband even unto 
 death. Mrs. Kendal seemed to realise every word of the sad story, 
 f..r tears were falling down her face as she uttered the humble prayer 
 sobbed cut by the ostler when he found that his wife had deserted 
 him, and her emotion dominated nearly the whole audience, for there 
 
 ^carcely a diy eye in the hall. It was certainly a triumph of art, 
 and at the close of the recitation the applause was even more hearty 
 than before. 
 
 Mr. Edward King, (who presided) said he had now the 
 honour and he might say the luxury of asking them to tender to 
 .Mi-. Kendal their grateful thanks for the most interesting afternoon 
 she had given them. To some of them, he thought, it had not only 
 been a present pleasure, but they had been living a kind of double 
 life. They had been thinking of Mrs. Kendal there and also thinking 
 of Mrs. Kendal elsewhere. It was not often that audience and actress 
 had the pleasure of meeting face to face as they had done that 
 afternoon, and for the audience to have the opportunity to show 
 their <ler; -f gratitude to one who had done so much to 
 
 ennoble her art, and to give pleasure to those who had watched 
 her splendid performances (applause). With a good many of them 
 their memories of Mrs. Kendal were associated with the Haymarket 
 Theatre, and no doubt they had been thinking of the pleasure she 
 had given them in the past, in representing those great characters 
 which Shakespeare had created, and which she had adorned in 
 rei>reseiitin'_r. They found in her an epitome of Shakespeare's heroines 
 uiona, Ophelia, and Rosalind --rolled into one. They were not 
 only indebted to her most deeply for what she had done for them 
 then, hut for what she had done for them in the past, and he felt 
 it a great luxury to be able to thank her for the choice pleasure 
 she had given him in years gone by. The elder Disraeli said that 
 Madlle. (Mail-on, tin- great French actress, held that an actress 
 should not only be noble and heroic on the stage, but that in 
 common life the truly sublime actress should be noble, heroic, and 
 womanly off th- stage. They had an example of that in Madlle. 
 (Mail-on, and he thought they \\onld agree that they had another and 
 a living example not very far off that day (applause). Because he 
 thought they agreed with him in that he had very much pleasure in 
 asking them to a. -cord to Mrs. Kendal their most grateful thanks 
 for the exceedingly interesting afternoon she had given them 
 (applause). 
 
308 MRS. KEXDAL'S RECITAL. 
 
 The Rev. Astley Cooper said that was not the first time that, 
 at the request of Mr. King, he had acted the part of his lieutenant 
 there, but never under circumstances of so pleasurable a nature and 
 so magnificent a character as that afternoon. It almost seemed 
 necessary to apologise for praising Mrs. Keiidal in Mrs. Kendal's 
 presence ; it was something like painting the lily ; but Mrs. Keiidal 
 would excuse them when they proposed that vote of thanks simply 
 as an obvious duty. It must have been at much personal trouble 
 and inconvenience that Mrs. Kendal had come there. Her time was 
 overloaded with many engagements, but she had come to that 
 comparatively insignificant hall, and given them a rich and magnificent 
 treat (applause). For many years he had taken an interest in the art 
 of public reading, though he feared with small personal success. It 
 was a most difficult art to acquire, but he thought they must all agree, 
 from the specimens they had had that afternoon, that to nature 
 Mrs. Kendal had added a very keen and assiduous study, and had 
 arrived almost at perfection. She had said that reading from a book 
 was dreary work, but he could assure her that that audience had not 
 found it dreary work at all (hear, hear). Nature had given her a 
 splendid voice and a wonderful play of features, and those who had 
 eyes as well as ears, and had used them, had come to the conclusion 
 that she had rendered that part of Shakespeare's works in a most 
 magnificent manner (applause). Sometimes he hoped the stage went 
 to the pulpit for instruction, and he thought oftentimes the pulpit 
 might reciprocate that, and go to the stage for instruction. He was 
 not ashamed to say, as he had said there before, that sometimes he 
 was to be seen at the theatre, and he might add that he never came 
 away from the theatre without feeling his perception sharpened and 
 his moral sense cultivated. He wished the stage would recognise the 
 pulpit more, and the pulpit the stage, so that they might go hand in 
 hand in improving the morals of the people, and elevating their 
 taste. He had said that it might seem to demand an apology to 
 praise Mrs. Kendal in her presence, but there was another observation 
 which he must make. He had said thus much of her reading, but 
 he thought the palm must be given to her recitation (hear, hear). In 
 matter and manner combined it was most wonderful and touching. 
 While it was being delivered there was scarcely an eye dry. He 
 wished they of the pulpit could draw tears from the eyes of their 
 hearers (laughter), but he was afraid the pulpit was often too dry to 
 make the pew moist (laughter). They of the clergy who were present 
 were greatly obliged to Mrs. Kendal. He begged in the name of the 
 
KKXDAL'S RECITAL. 309 
 
 1 
 
 audience t<> second the vote of tlianks proposed by Mr. King. He 
 would like to add tliat they were deeply indebted t<. Mr. King for 
 the pleasure they had enjoyed that afternoon, for hu lisul taken a 
 wonderful deal of trouble in bringing Mrs. Kendal there. They had 
 been longing to get Mrs. Kendal there. but at last the crowning day 
 had eonie. There \\as ;i great audience, and there ought to be a 
 hearty vote . ,f thanks (applause). 
 
 Mr. Samuel Prandraiu said he hoped tliat they would excu.se 
 his raising his weak voice to join in a tribute of praise to his old and 
 dear friend Mrs. Kendal. and to congratulate that audience on having 
 listened to her perfect elocution (applause). 
 
 The Chairman, in putting the vote of thanks, said he did not 
 wish ir to be tin night that there was any trouble in getting Mi's. 
 Kendal to consent to give them the recital. With her usual generosity 
 and kindness of heart, rhc moment he asked her if she would gratify 
 them in that way she cheerfully gave her consent. The only trouble had 
 been that unfortunately Mrs. Kendal had some morning performances, 
 and was therefore unable to come on the date originally fixed. 
 
 Tin- vote \\as passed amid hearty applause, and upon 
 Mr-. Kendal rising to respond, the whole audience rose and remained 
 standing \\hile she was speaking. She said she did not often get up 
 to make a speech. Sometimes she did, and her last speech she 
 would never forget, for in consequence of that she had to consider 
 herself the most abused woman in England. In making her one 
 speech at the- Social Science Congress she made more enemies than 
 friends (laughter). She hoped the speech she was then making would 
 not have that effect. She \\ as very pleased to come to the Athemeum, 
 and if her recitation had given them any pleasure it was not more 
 than the pleasure it had given her. Sin- was glad to hear the 
 llev. \>tn\ Cooper speak s.. well of her profession. What he had 
 said brought to her mind the story they had piobably all heard of the 
 bishop and the u'icat a. -tor. (Jarriek. The bishop had asked (Jan-irk 
 ho\\ it was that ach.rs seemed to make a greater impression on their 
 audiences than preachers, ami the great actor replied "My dear and 
 ud friend, it is because you make one little mistake : vou 
 
 ; i a fact as though it were a fiction : \\ e act a fiction as though 
 it \\e (laughter and applause). She feared that was a 
 
 somewhat Miller. She thanked them very much for their 
 
 din-ly kind re.-ej.tion. 
 
 Mrs. Kendal \\a> accompanied by Mr. Kendal. who occupied a 
 seat on the platform next to the chairman. 
 
310 MRS. KENDAL'S RECITAL. 
 
 At the ordinary meeting of the Athenaeum, on the following 
 Monday, the Chairman (Mr. King) proposed the subjoined resolution : 
 
 This meeting of members of the Richmond Athenanim desires to express its 
 hearty thanks to Mrs. Kendal for her generous kindness on the occasion of her visit on 
 Saturday, April 18th. That the Honorary Secretary be requested to convey a copy <>f 
 this resolution to Mrs. Kendal. 
 
 The Rev. G. S. Ingram seconded the motion with very great 
 pleasure, adding that in a brief conversation which he had with Mrs. 
 Kendal he expressed the hope that that would not be the last time 
 that she would favour the Athenaeum with a reading, and her reply, 
 veiy promptly given, was that she also hoped it would not be 
 the last time. 
 
 The motion was carried unanimously. 
 
 Dr. Johnson, referring to the crowding that occurred on 
 Saturday, said it was better to have an overflow like that, which 
 showed great enthusiasm, than to have even six seats vacant. He 
 hoped they would recognise that the council did all they could to 
 find seats for those who were present (hear hear). 
 
A thenceum Council Dinner. 
 
 the 
 
 and Ti'-;<-!;,,,l,,iin T'.nux of JllllC-Otll, 1885. 
 
 HK Richmond Athena-urn council dinner took place at 
 the- Star and Garter Hotel, on Saturday last, and was 
 in every way successful. The company numbered about 
 120, including the following : Professor A. H. Church, 
 M.A., president of the Athemeum, in the chair, Mr. Charles Aitken, 
 Rev. Astley Cooper, Rev. G. S. Ingrain, Mr. Edward King, and Mr. 
 c, . K. Whiteley, J.P., Vice-Presidents, occupying the vice-chairs; 
 Professor Heniy Morley, Professor of English Literature at University 
 ('liege, London; Professor Judd ; Mr. Phil Morris, A.R.A. ; Mr. 
 Thiselton Dyer, Assistant Director of Kew Garden* ; Mr. Maurice B. 
 Adams, Mrs. Charles Aitken, Mr. and Mra. Andrew, Mr. Arthur (. 
 Atkinson. Mi. Atkinson, Mr. Barron, Mr. and Mrs. W. A. F. 
 Batemaii. Miss Bat-man. Mr. Bickerton, Mr. Percy Bull, Mr. and 
 Mrs. J. Cartledge, Mr. Herbert Chapman, Mrs. Church, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Clarke (Norbiton), Mr. J. Clissold (Stroud), Mr. and Mrs. J. 
 Cockburn, Miss Cockburn, Mrs. W. Cockbum, Mr. J. A. Coo}>er, 
 Eter, C. F. Coutts, Mr. T. Skewes-Cox, Mr. and Mrs. Crafter, Mr. 
 and Mrs. H. Dines, Mr. and Mrs. Dollinan (Bedford Park), Rev. and 
 Mi>. L. M. D'Orsey, Mr. J. Sandford Dyason, Mr. J. Edgar, Miss 
 Edgar. .Mr. ami Mrs. C. B. Edgar, Mr. Henry G. Gibson, Mr. 
 and Mrs. < '. V. <;,,dby, Mr. Alfred Gosling, Miss Gosling, Mrs. F. 
 I. <;.. sling, Mr. and Mrs. Haite (Bedford Park), Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hammond, Miss Harker, Rev. Stewart Headlam, Mr. J. W. Heath, 
 Mr. and Mrs. W. H. H-ndrrs-m, Mr. and Mrs. J. B. Hilclitch, 
 Miss Hillier (Stroud), Mr. W. J. Hiscoke, Mr. and Mrs. George 
 I iim am, Mrs. Archibald Ingram, Dr. S. Johnson (Hon. Secretaiy), 
 Mr>. .Judd. Miss Kelliam. Col-niel H. J. King, Mrs. Edward King, 
 Ti-mpleton Kinu' and Mrs. King. Mr. and Mrs. Lancer, Dr. 
 Roberts Law, Mr. and Mrs. Lay ton (Brentford), Mr. Matthews 
 (Hon. >v to the Turnliam (Jreen Literary and Srimtitic 
 
 M M-itthcws. Mi's Minet, Mr. Munro, Mr. Pacy, 
 
 Mr. Pilditch, Mr. H. llassam, Mr. Trelawncy Saunders, Colonel 
 
312 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 Sparks, Mr. Steward, Mr. and Mrs. R. Taylor, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Tempany, Mr. Frank Tonge, Mrs. Twells, Miss Vickeray, Dr. 
 and Mrs. Martindale Ward, Mr. Edmund Warne, Mrs. G. F. 
 Whiteley, Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Williams (Brentford), Mr. Yates, &c. 
 No pains were spared to make the surroundings of the 
 entertainment as pleasant as possible. The coffee room was fitted 
 up with plants, &c., as a reception room, and here the short 
 interval before dinner was agreeably passed in conversation. The 
 dinner was served in the pavilion, where the tables were well 
 arranged and artistically decorated. The dinner itself was excellent, 
 and Mr. Evans, the Managing Director, may be congratulated 
 upon giving great satisfaction to those who were present. Grace 
 was sung by Messrs. Munro, Chapman, Bull, and Steward, who 
 kindly gave the following part songs, &c., during the evening : 
 
 Madrigal " This pleasant month of May " (Beale). 
 
 Part Song " Lovely Night " (Chwatal). 
 
 Part Song " The Two Roses " (Werner). 
 
 Part Song " Shall I, wasting in despair ?" (Hatton). 
 
 Dessert having been served, 
 
 The Chairman said that before proposing to them the first 
 toast of the evening, he must read a telegram which had just been 
 received from Sir J. Whittaker Ellis, M.P., who had promised not 
 only to be present, but to take part in their proceedings. He said 
 in his telegram, "I sincerely regret that I cannot possibly reach 
 Richmond to-day in time for the dinner. Pray assure all my 
 friends of my great disappointment." Passing on to propose the 
 toast of "The Queen," the Chairman said they would, he was sure, 
 express their sense of the affection and devotion to her people 
 which the Queen ever showed by duly honouring the first toast of 
 the evening. Wise in counsel, patriotic in feeling, one in whom 
 condescension and kindness had become a habit of mind, the Queen 
 commanded the loyalty and love of the nation (applause). We had 
 been allowed an insight into her mode of home life ; we had 
 been permitted to share her three great sorrowful bereavements, 
 and also to rejoice in her many joys. They would unite with him 
 in wishing the Queen long life, and a long continued and solidly 
 happy and prosperous reign over a united and happy people (cheers). 
 The Chairman next proposed ' l The Prince and Princess of 
 Wales and the rest of the Royal Family." He said that every 
 year, eveiy month, and he might almost say every day, showed how 
 the Prince of Wales, and he might add the Princess of Wales, and 
 many other members of the Royal House, interested themselves 
 
SPWIIKS AT TIIK COUNCIL DINNKIJ. ol o 
 
 practically as well as ofhcially in the good of our people. Their 
 high oftices were indeed no sinecure, and tlieir duties were discharged 
 with marvellous ; at kindness, and no want of coin-age 
 
 (hear, hear). 
 
 Mr. Thi.selton Dyer said he had to ask their attention to the 
 very few words with which lie should submit to them what was 
 perhaps the most important toast to those assembled in that room 
 of those which would be before them that evening. But as the 
 material part of that very delightful entertainment had closed, and 
 they had a very considerable feast before them of a more intellect ua 
 character, he thought lie would do well to cany out the analogy, 
 and to include his share of the proceedings amongst those lighter 
 portions which, perhaps, rather in continental banquets than our own, 
 commenced the repast. It would be better, therefore, that lie should 
 not say much about the toast, but leave some of the more important 
 matters which developed naturally out of the work of the AtheiiM-um. 
 and which were to be dealt with by subsequent speakers, to occupy 
 their attention. It was a matter for congratulation, not merely to 
 the town of Richmond, but to the whole of the surrounding neigh- 
 bourhood, that so remarkable a development had taken place of a 
 public and intellectual character. He was speaking rather as a 
 neighbour than as an actual inhabitant of Richmond, but he must 
 say that he had admired the energy with which they had started, 
 first their Free Public Library (hear, hear), and then appropriately 
 followed it up with that very useful and valuable institution, the 
 Athen:i-um (applause). They need not be much surprised that that 
 kind of intellectual development had taken place in Richmond. 
 becailM probably no plaee in the vicinity of the great city, except 
 perhaps lloyal Windsor herself, had so splendid a tradition, .so rich 
 and varied a local history, as the town in winch they wen- assembled. 
 He mentioned that because he would like to refer to an exceed- 
 ingly pretty book which a member and ho was surprised to hear 
 how very junior a member of the town had issued within tin- last 
 few weeks, in which a u'n-af deal that \\ as interesting, and much 
 that must be new to many residents, was set forth in the most 
 admirable manner. A town with such traditions, which had 
 the chosen dwelling p: \ereigns, which 
 
 had associations of political, literary, and artistic celebrities of every 
 kind crowded thick on almost every acre of the parish it was not 
 surprising that a town of that kind should feel a s.>rt of intellectual 
 vitality, and seek to break out into some such organisation as the 
 
314 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 Atliemeum (applause). He therefore felt that it was no small 
 compliment that was paid him, and no small responsibility that was 
 placed upon him, when he was asked to speak to them of the 
 advantages of the Richmond Athenaeum, and to ask them to drink to 
 its prosperity. It was not, he believed, a very old society, but, 
 in the case of societies, the vigour of youth had immense advantages. 
 But there was one point of view from which he thought they could 
 look forward to a continued prosperity. It was not merely the 
 splendour of the local associations of the town, nor the accumulation 
 of inherited material possessions, some brought here by royalty and 
 some by private and munificent persons, but the fact that they 
 had collected in this neighbourhood as great a variety of persons 
 possessed of skill and special knowledge of many subjects as was 
 probably to be found in any neighbourhood near London. The 
 organization of that society was expressly adapted to obtain from 
 their members in an informal and neighbourly manner such accounts 
 as must be extremely useful and interesting of those matters in 
 which they were interested, and about which they could talk to 
 them in a very pleasant and agreeable way. That society must be 
 an immensely useful instrument for raising the general culture to 
 use a rather hackneyed word of the community as a whole, and 
 therefore he was sure that although he was not living sum'ciently 
 near to take any part in the meetings of the society, he could 
 speak in the most heartfelt way when he desired for his own part, 
 and asked them to drink, "Prosperity to the Richmond Atheiiceum " 
 (applause). But he must not sit down without asking them to 
 allow him to couple with the toast the name of his very old friend, 
 their President. It was a kindly act on his part when, in the 
 absence of the distinguished man who it was hoped would address 
 them, their president asked him to say something to them. He did 
 so with pleasure, for when he first made the acquaintance of 
 Professor Church, it was in a town in the west of England, which 
 had some points of resemblance to that in which they were now 
 assembled. It had even more ancient traditions, great natural 
 beauty, and some of the advantages of culture which they had in 
 Richmond. He there found Professor Church occupied with the 
 same kind of public spirit which he brought to his work in connection 
 with the Athenreum, for he was there interesting the people in the 
 history of the town in which they were born and bred, its natural 
 history, and eveiy thing that went to make up the colour of local 
 life. After he (Mr. Dyer) left that town, it Avas a fortunate thing 
 

 
 sl'i:ij HIS AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. .>15 
 
 which brought Professor Church also to this neighbourhood, after 
 a u'ap which lie thought had divided their lives, and he was glad 
 t<> find that their President still continued t<> exercise those public 
 instincts and mponsibilitiei which occupied him so well in the west 
 of England. He asked them to drink '* Prosperity to the Richmond 
 Atheii;eum." and he coupled with it the name of their President, 
 
 isor Church (applause). 
 
 The Chairman, in responding, said although he knew that his 
 good friend, Mr. Thiselton Dyer, was remarkable for his accuracy 
 of thought and precision of expression in all his scientific utterances, he 
 feared that his compliments to the President of the Athena-urn 
 indicated that he had allowed his imagination to run away with him, 
 
 me extent, in his beautifully coloured picture of his (Professor 
 Church's) life at Cirencester. What he had expressed with regard to 
 tlie Atheii;eum he could fully reciprocate, for he quite believed that 
 they had in that institution a means of cultivation, of bringing 
 together those interested in art, literature, science, politics, and the 
 other elements which made up our intellectual and moral life, and of 
 adding, by the friction of mind with mind, fresh light and fresh colour 
 to the life that we lead. He hoped they had already fulfilled, in 
 some measure, the anticipations which were created at the foundation 
 of the Atheiueum. But his own position witli regard to the society 
 -mewhat that of an interloper. He was like the labourer who 
 entered the vineyard at the eleventh hour, and he was afraid that 
 he had had more than his share of wages. The Athenamin was, 
 he believed, lather more than a year old when he was persuaded to 
 join it, and, thanks to the kindness of the majority of the members 
 who voted on that occasion, not to join as an ordinary member, but 
 as the President. He had previously held himself aloof from the 
 
 y, not from lack of interest, but because he felt that, living 
 farther away from the centre of its activity than the majority of 
 its members, and being very much engaged on the evenings on which 
 the meetings usually took place, as well as on a good many other 
 evenings, he would not be able to fulfil the duties of the President, 
 or even of aii ordinary member. Many of the members, however, 
 labouring under the mistaken notion that his presidency would be 
 serviceable, insisted upon his assuming a position for which he had 
 none but the .slenderest qualification! (no. n<>). However, he must 
 add a word or two with regard to the Athemeum itself and its 
 w.-rk, ami perhaps they would permit him to remind them that 
 there were two or three points in which tlioir Atheiueum might be 
 
316 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 improved. He thought a more general discussion in the body of 
 their meetings on the subjects of the papers which were brought 
 before them would be a most desirable innovation. Too much labour 
 was at present thrown upon those gentlemen who were vice-presidents 
 and members of the council in tilling up some of those awkward gaps 
 which sometimes occurred after a paper had been read, and of which 
 on the few occasions when he had taken the chair he had had some 
 painful experiences. He had once or twice spoken himself on such 
 occasions when he had really nothing to say (laughter). They might, 
 he thought, rather go back to the times of that eld temple of learning 
 at Athens, the first Athenaeum that was ever started, in which poet*, 
 orators, logicians, and men of letters met to read and criticise their 
 own works. Not only did they read and criticise their own works, 
 but doubtless they criticised the works of others, and at the same 
 time everyone spoke and everyone listened in turn. If they could 
 only do something of that sort in the College Hall, on Monday 
 evenings, they would get on much better. Let all listen, but let all 
 speak, one 011 the subject which was best known to him, and another 
 on the subject with which he desired to become acquainted, and 
 with which he had made some beginnings in knowledge. Later on, 
 in that second Athenamm, founded by the Emperor Hadrian, in 
 Rome, the same practice prevailed. Not only was there the discussion 
 of the more modern arts and sciences, as well as those of more 
 primitive Greece, but there were added thereto courses of lectures 
 on subjects which would not all of them be very attractive nmv. 
 He had noted most of them, and he was afraid that lectures on 
 grammar, philosophy, rhetoric, and jurisprudence would not be 
 altogether satisfactory towards the close of the nineteenth century 
 in their suburban retreat of Richmond, but at the same time the 
 element of lectures had been introduced with some success in the 
 working of their Athenreum, and he thought they might still further 
 develope it with advantage. He merely threw that out as a suggestion 
 to be considered, arid which might fructify into actual experience. 
 He had now only to return his thanks to them for the way in 
 which they had drunk the toast, and to his friend, Mr. Thiselton 
 Dyer, for the too kind terms in which he had associated his name 
 with it (applause). 
 
 The Chairman again rose to propose the toast of "Literature." 
 He said it was not necessary to multiply words in commending to 
 their notice the next toast. Literature touched them all at many 
 points. Their first contact with its elements, as some of them 
 
SPEECHES AT THK COUNCIL WNNF.n. 317 
 
 doubtless remembered, was not a wholly unalloyed delight. But, 
 childhood past, they had all had the advantage of enjoying the rich 
 and varied pleasures which the expression of human thought in well- 
 
 n and well-ordered words afforded the fertile contact of mind 
 with mind. All sciences and many arts found means of expression 
 and diffusion in letters. The interest they felt, and the debt they 
 owed to literature as an instrument of culture, extended to the 
 
 iiality and the lives of men of letters. Did they not mourn 
 now with France in the death of that great poet and writer who 
 had refreshed with marvellous vigour the literature of his country, 
 and had remodelled the forms and enriched the cadences of her verse 
 and prose (hear, hear)!* It was a peculiarly happy circumstance 
 that he was able to couple with that toast the name of an author 
 and editor who had done so much to instruct and delight the 
 
 :it generation as Professor Henry Morley, of University College, 
 London (applause). He remembered reading with great delight a 
 book that he wrote some years ago, Tl Lif. <>/ Ht-nnn-il /W/.s.s//. 
 Bernard I'a'is.Ny interested him because, as some of them were aware, 
 iiiewhat of a china-maniac himself, and because he was one 
 of those who lab uired under enormous disadvantages, but succeeded 
 because In- \\u> a man of indomitable perseverance and wonderful 
 knowledge. He was a great potter ceramist, we call him now-a- 
 a tolerable chemist, as chemists went in those times, and 
 also a man of general knowledge in scientific matters. Some of 
 them might not know his delightful little book on N/T//M/.S nml 
 /'(',,/(///(.>-, which had been translated by Miss Willett into very 
 delightful English. In that he anticipated many of the conclusions 
 which hydraulic engineers had reached in the latter half of the 
 nineteenth century, and imt a little of the knowledge which we 
 thought our own discovery. Put \\ e \\ere not only indebted to 
 .Morley for presenting to us in a leadable form the lives 
 of great men, but he had also done much to present to us in an 
 
 -il>lc form their chief works. He was the editor of the 
 r/./'/v/.s-,// Lil'i-nfif, of \\hich he believed tueiity four to twenty- 
 had already appeared, at the rate of almost one a 
 month, and which were very carefully edited. In that series the 
 
 politicians, dramatists, and writ el's of 
 
 fiction and philosophy of Fiance, (Jermanv. Italy, Spain, and our 
 
 own country D to the Knglish public with brief notes and 
 
 brief introductions, all to the point, and marking everything that is 
 
 worthy ami uio>t easily presented to our countrymen, in such 
 
318 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 a form as should commend itself to their attention, and actually 
 entrap them into a study of those works which they perhaps would 
 never have thought of reading. They owed much to the Professor 
 of English Literature at University College, for what he had done 
 for home literature and foreign letters. For this boon alone he 
 deserved their best thanks, and he was sure they would join with 
 him in cordially drinking his health in connection with the toast of 
 " Literature " (applause). 
 
 Professor Henry Morley, in responding, said he was sure he 
 would be prudent it he were silent concerning himself, except to 
 express the great pleasure and the great reward it was to any 
 worker at literature to hear a cheering voice of kindly fellowship 
 and appreciation. Everyone who worked with the pen felt that, 
 and feeling it, should say what he felt. Having said that, he would 
 turn from his own work to the work of Richmond. He came to 
 their dinner as a very weak representative of the spirit of literature, 
 for he felt, and many men of letters had felt, that the spirit of 
 literature found itself to be very much alive in Richmond. The 
 foundation of the Free Public Library in Richmond had been 
 welcomed, he thought, by every man and woman in the country 
 who desired the true advancement of the knowledge and fellowship 
 of mankind. Here he felt, in the first place, the strong attractive 
 power of that love of letters which had caused Richmond to be a 
 leader in the suburbs of London, and an example he wished he 
 could say a leader also- to London herself. London would not 
 follow the lead, although she was shown the way. That meeting 
 was one of the most pleasant he had ever attended ; but the most 
 unpleasant at which he was ever present in his life was one held 
 in the parish of St. Pancras to endeavour to establish a free library. 
 There was nothing but yelling, and the clearest evidence of the need 
 of some contact with literature on the part of those who were opposing 
 the establishment of the library. In their Free Library and Athenseum 
 they had contact with papers and books. The literature of our time 
 consisted very largely indeed of journalism, and there were many 
 whose reading was confined almost to the reading of papers. He 
 thought the function of newspapers and magazines, which occupied so 
 large a part of the reading time of the people of England, was a 
 distinct one. They could not do the whole work, but they did a 
 large and very necessary part of the work of literature in this 
 country. They represented in the best possible manner that free 
 interchange with all the various forms of thought by which truth 
 
s AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 310 
 
 distinguished from error, ;vnd the steady advance of the country 
 was made possible. The more clearly and ably they could express 
 their different opinions the better it would bo, and they had various 
 forms of opinion most ably expressed in no less than three magazines, 
 which existed t. allow absolutely within their own columns various 
 discussion of those problems, from the working out of which in that 
 way we might learn more of the fellowship of mankind. They were 
 too apt to think people stupid who did not agree with them, bub they 
 had come now it) understand that no two people could think exactly 
 alike, any more than they could look exactly alike. There would be 
 confusion if three or four persons looked exactly alike, and got 
 mi\ed up (laughter), and it would be scarcely less inconvenient if three 
 or four persons thought exactly alike. Or supposing all men were of 
 one mind, what \\ouhl the life of the world be * If all men thought 
 alike we might be a bed of cabbages, or peas growing on a stick, or, 
 if they liked, peaches growing on a wall: they remained all alike. 
 P.ut we had to advance from the uncivilised to the quarter-civilised, 
 and from the quarter-civilised we were now on the way to the half- 
 civilised (laughter). He was quite serious when he said he thought 
 we were only >n the way to the half-civilised. If they would only 
 take a walk through St. Giles' or even Bond Street, with their eyes 
 open, he thought they would come to the conclusion that lie had 
 rather overstated the case when he said that England was half-civilised. 
 They were on the way, however, to the "crowning race," as Tennyson 
 called it, and it was by such work as they were doing in Richmond, 
 by the foundation of Free Libraries and Athemeums such as that, 
 that the real fellowship of literature and the binding power of 
 literature wa- 1. There they were as one family, and not 
 
 excluding that half of the human race which was not merely a 
 companion to the other half, but a guide. The force of literature 
 was a uniting force : it was only a disintegrating force when it was 
 wrongly used. If a man of genius and humour w;ix shown to us by a 
 biographer who had no sense of fun, then we had literature as a 
 disintegrating force, and men who had previously honoured the 
 subject of the biography be^an to shake their heads at him. That he 
 looked upon as a ^ivat misuse of literature, though an unintentional 
 misuse. In t: > which he was referring no doubt they knew 
 
 it the deMiv \\as to be absolutely honest and to tell the truth, but 
 it a man had n<> MUM of fun. and he dealt with the life of one who 
 had. it would not be the truth. It would be his truth, but not ours. 
 In their Public Library and Atheiut-um work, to go back to the 
 
320 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 journals and the books, the journals now issued in England were far 
 beyond the point attained by any other country in Europe, and that 
 was one of the great safeguards of an advancing civilisation, for he 
 believed it existed, with books and magazines as the best aids for 
 that discussion which we have. But apart from that, and beyond 
 that, there was the use of books in the home, and in the name of 
 literature he would plead against the too great exclusion of books 
 from our homes. The Free Public Library enabled many to take 
 their books into their homes, to use them, to read them, or perhaps 
 to dip into them. Now a dip into a book was something helpful, 
 and quite different from reading somebody else's account of it. A 
 dip out of a book was very different from a dip into it. A dip into 
 the sea at Brighton did one good. A dip into a pailful of sea 
 water, delivered by the Eastern Counties Railway in London, was a 
 very good thing, but not so good. There were many books by which 
 one could be helped greatly without reading them through, but by 
 simply dipping into them. But contact with books, in which men 
 had endeavoured to deliver their whole souls and their whole hearts, 
 and to speak their whole minds contact with books of that kind 
 was in the highest degree helpful to the development of the individual 
 character. Each of us had to do all that was possible for the 
 individual development. Merely taking part in a discussion was not 
 sufficient. There must be the quiet hour with the book, in which 
 thoughts sank into them and gave them the strength which they 
 needed for the true battle of life. All sue!) study of literature 
 bended to that fellowship of which their dinner that night was a 
 clear type. It tended to make men think that the differences which 
 existed were wholesome differences, and that rather than quarrel witli 
 men for disagreeing with them they should almost go down on 
 their knees and thank God that they were not all alike, for their 
 differences compelled them to think for themselves and to get 
 information. They liked to talk with men who did not agree with 
 them, rather than with those who did, for to converse with one who 
 agreed in everything must be rather like a soliloquy. Literature 
 made true fellowship. There was nothing in Shakespeare but 
 fellowship. They saw the ties of kindred and the teaching that God 
 gave those ties, and the strength of love, every where in Shakespeare, 
 and nowhere in all his plays was there a single instance of his 
 admitting evil to be combated by evil, or hate to be combated by 
 hate. His lesson was " Overcome evil with good." In one of 
 his plays a gentleman who was taken lo be a Shakespearian 
 
A,,. 
 
 ,, 
 
 SPKK< m;s AT THI: COUNCIL IHNNKH. :>:>! 
 
 philosopher, M. .Ia<|iies, gave the " Seven Ages of Man," which was 
 usually quoted as Shakes|M-are\ " Seven Ages,'' hut that was not 
 Shake- view of life. When Ja<|ucs said " \\"e two will rail 
 
 against i.ur mistress the world." Orlando's answer was Shakespeare's 
 when he said " I will chide no breather in the world but myself, 
 against whom I know most faults." And now lie would apply 
 Shakespeare's lesson to himself, and say " You tiresome, tedious 
 fellow, y"U have \\eaiied ymir audience Ion-; enough ; sit down, do," 
 
 d so he would (laughter and applause). 
 
 Mr. Kdward King said that when, about a month ago, in a 
 nt of -4ood tempered rashness, he consented, as he hoped, in the 
 interests of the Athena-nni, to propose- the toast of " Science and 
 Art." he did not pause to think that a time would come when, in 
 cold shade of a mature reflection, he might bitterly repent his 
 temerity. That time had now arrived, but still, for all that, he felt 
 it was an honour to submit to them the toast of "Science and Art." 
 and to connect with it the names of those representatives of science 
 and art who adorned their table. It seemed to him that there was 
 a special fitness in coupling science and art together in one toast, 
 use to a great extent in everyday life science and art were 
 naturally allied. As he was sitting there looking round the table, 
 he thought even in the festivities they had been engaged in there 
 was an apt illustration of the value of the combination. If their 
 
 / had not had a little science a little method in his madness 
 nd if those who had planned and adorned the tables had not put a 
 little art into their work, they would not have had so enjoyable an 
 evening. And then, glancing at the sides of the tables, it struck 
 him that both science and art had something to do with the ladies. 
 They dressed with artistic taste, of course, but they must also dress 
 with a certain amount of srieiitilic taste, for it seemed to him that 
 it dn coinj',,rtahh-. lovely, and healthy, they must ally 
 
 u, little srieiic-- with their art. Then, in following up the subject 
 of this alliance of science and art, it occurred to him that they lui^ht 
 
 Iie.nly >ay that tin- wise ami beneficial wedding of science and art 
 11 ei\ili-ed lite supplied almost a parallel in advantageous results 
 o tho linking of kindred souls of which Longfellow sang so sweetly 
 As initu tin- 1>'\\ tin- o>rl i-. 
 So nut" tin man i- \\oin;iii. 
 Tii-. null -lif ln-n.ls him. -In- ..l..-ys him, 
 Though ."'iif ilr;n\> hii< ;ii\\s, 
 
 i -rli--* I'iich without thi' othrr. 
 
 In their proper and practical outcome science and art were allied in 
 
 X 
 
 a > | '< 
 
 bee* 
 
 nan- 
 
 5 
 
322 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER, 
 
 an interesting way. One, to be successful, was inseparable from 
 the other. Perhaps it might be said that the scientific aspect of art 
 was the prose, the practical, and the accurate aspect, which was 
 indispensable to its complete and enduring development. He need 
 hardly remind them how well this was illustrated by the grand art 
 lives of Michael Angelo and Benvenuto Cellini, and also by one 
 whom Professor Church had brought before them in so happy a way 
 Palissy the potter. In the life of Palissy the potter they had not 
 only to honour the man, but also that most interesting prose poem 
 that Professor Morley had produced for their admiration. Those who 
 had read that very interesting biography had felt that they were 
 reading words which must do them good, not only for the moment, 
 but for very many years. But he would remind them that science 
 was often as dependent upon art as art was upon science for high 
 reputation and lasting fame. Unfortunately for Richmond, some of 
 them who lived in the vicinity of the river had seen some melancholy 
 illustrations of the evil effects of science without art, and had seen 
 how clumsy engineering might spoil a lovely landscape. There was a 
 bridge over the river at Richmond connected with the London and 
 South- Western Railway, and a little while ago the artist of the 
 railway company thought it would look well if it were painted black 
 (laughter). Fortunately an aesthetic member of the Richmond Vestry 
 and the Richmond Athenaeum took the matter in hand, and saved the 
 bridge from becoming a hideous black eyesore against a charming 
 landscape. He might also urge upon some gentlemen connected with 
 constructive science the advantage it would be if they had more of the 
 spirit of the alliance of art with science in the erection of bridges. 
 How much better it would be if they more readily adopted that light 
 and graceful form by which a bridge added to the noble beauty of the 
 neighbourhood of Clifton. If that bridge had been such an one as 
 would have been left at Richmond, but for the timely efforts of an 
 artistic member of the Vestry, they would have had a most lamentable 
 exhibition of the non-alliance of the artistic with the scientific. But 
 perhaps one of the most melancholy examples of the unwisdom of 
 dissociating science from art, and ignoring the value of the chemical 
 knowledge which was now taught in the great art schools of the 
 country, was seen in the case of Joseph Mallord Turner and some 
 of those great pictures of his which had charmed so many, but 
 which, to our sorrow, we must feel would not charm many generations 
 more. If they had been produced with that scientific knowledge of the 
 chemistry of colours which many artists of the present day possessed, 
 
Sl'KKi HKS AT THE f'OUNC'IL DINNER. 
 
 
 
 we should not liave to lament over them as sublime artistic ruins 
 ratlin than works of enduring fame. This occasional absence of 
 science in art had a bearing on us generally, and a bearing especially 
 upon those who had lauded to the skies pictures which were not 
 honest art, but tricky resemblances of art, clever in their way, but 
 not likely to endure and to do credit to their authors in generations 
 to come. But it was not pictures of that kind that were produced 
 by the gentleman whose name he had to associate with the toast 
 mi behalf of Art, Mr. Phil Moms, A.R.A., to whom they were 
 indebted for many charming illustrations of the deft combination of 
 science and art (applause). With reference to science he had to 
 submit the name of Professor Judd, to whom Richmond was certainly 
 
 much indebted for valuable services rendered at a critical time 
 in connection with the artesian well (applause). With those names 
 coupled with it, he had to ask them to drink the toast of "Science 
 and Art " (applause). 
 
 Professor .ludd said a distinguished classical scholar, having been 
 appointed one of her Majesty's Inspectors of Schools, invented a 
 test <|iiestion to give the children, and was surprised that he never 
 _'ot a correct answer. The question was " What were the names of 
 the Three C races?" He always got an answer, that answer being 
 11 Faith, Hope, and Charity," and when that was rejected there was 
 ^em-rally silence, lint on one occasion the voice of a small lxy was 
 heard saying " It must !> Literature, Science, and Art." He was 
 afraid the boy did not get the credit for the correct answer, but he 
 was inclined to think that if that was not the right answer it ought 
 to have l.een the right one. He thought it would be presumption 
 on his part \\ere he to venture to define what were the requirements 
 of a grace -but if to be the solan- of our leisure hours, the 
 brightener of our homes, ami the sweetener of our lives if these 
 Were any of the qualifications meriting the title of a grace, then he 
 thought Literature, Science, and Art were three graces, and he did 
 not know when- they would find better (applause). With regard to 
 t\v. of these graces, if he might call them so, he \\as sure their 
 claims would be acknowledged at mice, and if not there were such 
 expounder^ of their merits in those who i e|, resented literature and 
 art on th.*' .1 that he believed the person most opposed to the 
 
 view would at once submit. They were all indebted to literature : 
 they had all felt the ennobling influence of the poet's words, and 
 the mental i v>t and refreshment which came to them from the gieat 
 works of fiction, and they knew how gn.id it was to be surrounded 
 
 
324 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 with the works of art, those things of beauty which were joys for 
 ever ; but he doubted if most people would be prepared to admit 
 the third grace to such company. He was afraid science, in such 
 brilliant and graceful company, would be regarded as somewhat of 
 an intruder. If their painter friends were required to give them 
 presentments of these three graces he was not sure that they would 
 not represent science as a person with corkscrew curls and azure 
 gloves, and that she might not be represented as she was on the 
 underground railway, upon which they were compelled to travel and 
 read the advertisements of the Inventions Exhibition, where they 
 found music represented as a charming female very properly turning 
 her head away from an improper boy, while science appeared as a 
 cadaverous hydrocephalous individual, vainly trying to measure the 
 governor he meant the governor of a steam engine with a pair 
 of compasses (laughter). He was afraid science suffered in the public 
 mind from too much respect. Did she not give us steam engines, 
 and railways, and bridges, and dynamos, and he was afraid he must 
 confess dynamite too ? And so science was looked upon as having 
 very little in common with ' literature and art. And yet there was 
 a lighter and a brighter side of science. There was that in science 
 which led them to the bounds of the infinite, almost to the 
 threshold of the eternal, and awakened thoughts even greater than 
 those conceived of by the poet, truths stranger than the wildest 
 imaginings of fiction, and presented us with beauties which even the 
 artist could only hope to imitate. On all these grounds lie thought 
 science was worthy to be cultivated in such a home of science, and 
 art, and literature as this. He was glad they had, in this institution, 
 by affiliating with it a Field Club and a Microscopical Section, secured 
 scientific pleasure alike for summer and winter. Among the rocks 
 and flowers which abounded in this beautiful country of ours they 
 would find abundant food for thought, and in the winter evenings, 
 with the microscope there would be an infinite variety to study. 
 In such a place the sister he would not call them rival claims of 
 the three graces would be rightly considered, for had the} 7 not as 
 their president one on whom all the three graces had smiled if Mrs. 
 Church would forgive him for saying so for he was equally at home 
 in writing a book, in painting a picture, or in pursuing an intricate 
 chemical research. He hoped they would take for their guide in the 
 future the principles which had been inculcated by their early 
 president, and that they would seek to establish this institution with 
 the wide sympathies that distinguished their president, and with 
 
SPEECHES AT Till: COUNCIL lUNXKK. 
 
 
 the broad ideal of culture that they knew he had. He heartily 
 thanked them for the way in which this toast had been received 
 (applause). 
 
 Mr. 1'liil .Morris. A. II. A., in responding for Art, said that never 
 in his life was he guilty, to his knowledge, of refusing an invitation 
 to dine at the Star and darter (laughter), and when he received the 
 invitation from the Council of the Athenanim lie at mice naturally 
 ndi-d to it with great delight, bub really now that the time had 
 come, he found the penalty for such readiness to be almost more than 
 
 <uld bear. He followed a craft which was called "silent art," 
 that of painting. He was sandwiched bet wren literature and science 
 !'iv.>t -nted by men \\lio had ideas that flowed from them like 
 the flo\\jir_c of a boundless n\er. and who had every capability of 
 expressing exactly what they meant. He usually found, unfortunately, 
 that when he wished to express anything, his words expressed almost 
 the opposite thing (laughter). As his was called the silent art, 
 he thought the toast with which it was connected might be drunk 
 in silence, and that there was no need for any response. He ottered 
 that as a suggestion for their future dinners. He had come to grief 
 in one wish that he had long entertained with regard to that toast. 
 It had long been a wish of his heart to hear a painter return thanks 
 tor the toast of " Art." He had been at civic dinners, and dinners 
 equally as numerously attended as that, and he had heard eminent 
 .soldiers or surgeons, and great lawyers or judges respond for art. 
 He had always had the greatest delight in listening to their remarks, 
 for they were always new, and to his mind very original (laughter). 
 He even once heard a middy, who had returned from an Arctic 
 exploration, called upon to respond for art simply from the fact that 
 he had taken a lens and a few dry plates with him (laughter). So 
 he naturally wished to hear a painter speak on art, and now he 
 b-]n.-ld Mi.-h a painter in himself, like an evil wish which had come 
 home to roost (laughter). He had another reason to regret his 
 
 :it |.o>ni,,n when they had amongst their own body an artist of 
 such celebrity . u r reat p,,wer. and with the great future of Mr. Blair 
 Leiuhton. whose picture in the Royal Academy, " The Secret," 
 would lead him on very speedily to higher eminence. Then there 
 M Hait.'. whose eloquence, and eminence for beauty of 
 desiu'n. would make him a very tit one to respond. He felt as if 
 his heart wen- in his boots when lie had to tackle a great subject 
 like art. and to ^ive them some idea of what tilled the artistic mind 
 when it thought of art. When an artist had to explain what it 
 
326 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL D1NNEK. 
 
 was that made him love these things, lie could not do it. It was 
 simply at the end of his brush ; it was involved in his mind with 
 certain ideas of light and shade and of the harmony of colours. How 
 was it to be explained ? Ruskin spent all his life in trying to give 
 them some idea what art was, and when they thought they had got 
 the gist of what he said he contradicted himself three times before 
 he left the subject. The great painters conveyed nothing to their 
 minds of what it was. A young artist was introduced to Turner, 
 who requested him to bring his picture, and when he came out 
 from the great man, some friends gathered round to hear what 
 Turner had said, and what advice he had given. The youth said, 
 in answer to their inquiries, " He told me never to bung up my 
 picture." He meant, he supposed, that the too heavy hand a young 
 painter was likely to have would spoil his picture, and that he 
 failed in that lightness, that infinity, that mystery in which Turner 
 excelled. Little but the Discourses of Reynolds were left to guide 
 us in art. BUG there was one phase he would like to dwell upon, 
 and that was the different life and the different aim of the painters, 
 artists, and sculptors of the present day, and those of the fifteenth 
 century or the Greek period. Take the points of the fifteenth 
 century. An artist had finished a noble theme for an altar piece, 
 and he was seen heading the procession with his picture. There 
 are the people, his neighbours, and the prince of the country possibly ; 
 he is in an exalted position for that day. They parade through 
 his native city, and see the picture placed where it would remain 
 for centuries. He returned to his home exalted, inspired, full of 
 abounding enthusiasm from the plaudits of his friends, to do better 
 and finer work. He, being the pupil of a great artist, had been 
 taught the simple means by which he made his effects and mixed 
 his colours. He became a master in his turn, and had pupils to 
 whom he showed what he had been taught, and what he had 
 himself added to it, and so art progressed step by step. What 
 was the case now ? The Church no longer asked for a theme. The 
 princes and great powers no longer asked for pictures. The artist 
 turned where he liked for his subjects. He might turn to a dish 
 of oysters, and if he painted it well he got fame of a kind. Or 
 he might be tempted by a great and noble theme, and he might 
 spend the best part of his life in painting one canvas. It was no 
 sooner dry than fifty pens were dipped in ink to scoff and scorn 
 it, and, to add almost the last straw of injury to insult, a bland 
 and smiling gentleman came into his studio and asked if he might 
 
be permitted to caricature it for a comic journal (laughter). Sn 
 they would see that there was n<> hope that art would ever be so 
 great in its aims, or accomplish so much as in olden times. It 
 would becme more general, and that was the great hope of the 
 period. Art no longer belonged to the few, to the prince or the 
 church, but to all. There never was a time when art was so 
 generally practised or so much studied. There was scarcely a home 
 in which t liciv wa; not some member studying art, and as a 
 consequence the home was all the more beautiful. That this would 
 form a -rear and appreciative public, who would demand pictures 
 of high aim ami character, was the hope of every artist who loved 
 his art. There was one privilege in being an artist, and that was 
 that it occasionally gave him an opportunity to dwell upon his 
 wrongs, and that which he conceived to be the future of his art by 
 such kindly invitations as that which brought him there on that 
 occasion (applause). 
 
 Colonel Sparks said the news that was communicated to them 
 in the telegram read by their chairman, that they were to be deprived 
 of the presence of Sir J. Whittaker Ellis, must have caused some 
 disappointment in the room, for they all knew the interest he took 
 in our institutions and would have been glad to welcome him at 
 their gathering ; but to no one was that telegram so great a blow 
 as it was to their humble servant, for upon him fell the duty that 
 would have fallen upon Sir J. Whittaker Ellis of proposing the 
 next toast. He regretted his absence mi personal as well as public 
 grounds ..n personal grounds for he (Colonel Sparks) belonged to 
 a profession in which they were not trained to oratory, for they 
 bettered in deed* more than words, and on public grounds, because 
 H that he was not able to do justice* to the toast which was 
 entrusted to him. But he was taught that the first duty of a 
 soldier was to obey, and therefore, when he was requested by their 
 
 iry to undertake to propose the toast, he felt bound i> COD 
 
 Truth was a fact anybody could avert, and there \\ as -me fact that 
 
 H now without any chance that it would be denied. 
 
 and that was that the Athen.-eum was. undoubtedly, a success. 
 
 NN hat they had heard from previous | had proved that fact. 
 
 and had it ii"' | that evening would have 
 
 proved it beyond <|Mcsti..n. It occurred to him that tin-re was one 
 
 tiling ab..\e all others which they must desire, and that was that 
 
 members should join the Athemeum without waiting until they got 
 
 iiairs or bald heads. They \\anted young members. They knew 
 
328 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNETt. 
 
 the advantages which must accrue from the discussions, and they 
 would all like their fellow-townsmen to get accustomed to hearing 
 those discussions in their youth. He, perhaps, was particularly un- 
 fitted to speak on that subject, because, as a member of the Athenaeum, 
 he had been conspicuous by his absence from the meetings, but that 
 was not altogether his fault. Many who were unable to attend had 
 watched, with great interest, the growth and progress of the 
 Athenaeum from the admirable accounts of its meetings they had been 
 able to read in the local Press. The toast he had to propose was 
 that of "The Vice-Presidents, Council, and Officers," those officers 
 being the auditors, the honorary treasurer, and the honorary secretary. 
 The institution could not have arrived at its present state if no 
 one had been exerting himself. They knew that the labours by 
 which success had been brought about had fallen upon the council 
 and officers, and they knew that those labours had not been light, 
 but must have required a great deal of tact and much thought. 
 He must not omit to mention rather specially the honorary secretary, 
 for they knew that a secretary was something like what the main 
 spring was to a watch. In his case brevity was the soul of wit, 
 and therefore he would leave the toast with them. 
 
 Dr. S. Johnson, in responding, said that although he was not 
 proposing the toast, he could say from experience, putting aside the 
 honorary secretary, that the Athenaeum had been blessed with a 
 most indefatigable council. From his experience of other societies 
 he could say that the attendance of the members at the council 
 meetings was very much in excess of the usual average, and they 
 who had the more executive duties to discharge had great reason 
 to be thankful to the council for doing so much. Four years ago 
 the Athempum started very well, but there were many who predicted 
 that it could not last. They seemed to think that the character 
 of the Richmond people was such that they would not keep up for 
 long their sympathy with any new movement. They were very 
 proud that night to see such an assembly. That was in itself an 
 answer to those who said that the Athenaeum could not exist for 
 more than a year or two. Not only had the council been most 
 indefatigable, but it was most representative. He was almost sorry 
 that he had been unable to lay before them all copies of the rules, 
 programme, and list of officers, so that they might see the various 
 sections, professions, and classes of life represented. They had on 
 the council the church in several sections that was the wide liberal 
 church that the Athenneum respected besides law, the magistracy, 
 
SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNKIJ. 
 
 science, medicine. and he did n<>t know what they might not have 
 besides. And MOM "f these were not only represented but personated. 
 The Church was at the head "f tlie Athena-urn (laughter), and they 
 had royalty or should they call it regality ( about them, for there 
 \\as the King (laughter). The Athena-urn professed not it) be very 
 political, though they did not encourage it they neither encouraged 
 nor discouraged. As Kin-s were non-political it was well to have 
 one amongst them. Dryden said 
 
 'Hum-lit-. <>f kin-s air like ivliui"ii- grOTM 
 Tin- walks i if muttk-'l -mis. 
 
 In the Athen;fui!) they had that neutrality in politics possessed by 
 one at least ..f their members, as prophesied by Dryden hoi- 
 It struck him that there was something reminding (.hem of Chaucer 
 and his pilgrimages in some of the pilgrimages they took in search 
 of flowers, and stones, and halves of brickbats, and so on. Although 
 their pilgrimages were not to the tomb of Thomas AT.eeketr. those 
 who took part in them sometimes included a Cook, a Miller, 
 a clerk of Oxford, ami although not a member of the council 
 there was the Dyer. As representing the ladies, in the pilgrimages 
 of old, there was the Nun. and in the Athemeum the ladies were 
 ed in the same way, for on the council they had )t<nu- 
 liter). Something had been said about an insufficiency of 
 speaking power in the body of the hall at their meetings. He could 
 
 them that it was the wish of the whole of the council that 
 the speaking should be from the body of the hall more than it 
 
 Frequently the meeting had waited impatiently for someone 
 
 :>eak. and then it was that a member of the council had been 
 
 obliged unwillingly to step in. Therefore they were not to be 
 
 blamed for speaking s-> fiv|iieiitly, but rather to be thanked that 
 
 when there were difficulties they rushed in where others feared to 
 
 i (applause). 
 
 The lt-\. AM ley Cooper proposed "The Ladies. He said that 
 although rhe t>ast which had Keen entruMc 1 to him had been 
 
 led by s.-veral of great importance and interest, illustrated by 
 
 from those famous in literature, art. and science, yet he 
 claimed for hi* >la.-e not second to any of the others. Indeed 
 
 if he \\eiv of an imperious and exacting nature, he might claim for 
 it a prior place, a place entirely by itself. He uas afraid, however, 
 that if he were to put forward that ambitious claim, in the few 
 minutes allowed for an after-dinner spo-ch, he would not be able 
 to establish it, partly because >f the greatness and magnificence of 
 
330 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 the subject, and partly because he was one of those unhappy speakers 
 who could do but little unless they found that they had plenty of 
 time to play with. He generally required ten minutes to wriggle 
 into his subject, another ten minutes to warm to the collar, and 
 another ten minutes to go on as he could, and then they got what 
 they got (laughter). If that toast had been given to him to propose 
 when he was a young man, he should have felt it desirable to get 
 in touch and sympathy with those most concerned in it by paying 
 them a series of compliments. He would have praised their bright 
 eyes, the dimples on their chins, their fair white brows, their 
 glorious tresses, and their most elegant forms ; but, alas, he was no 
 longer a young man. Youth and he had long since parted company, 
 and with that parting had gone that elasticity of spirit, that nimble- 
 ness of wit, that playfulness of fancy, and that lightness of hand 
 so characteristic of youth. It did not become a man who had passed 
 the meridian of life to say things that would be becoming in a 
 boy just passed out of his teens, and so instead of founding his 
 toast on the physical beauties of the ladies, he would found it on 
 a much higher theme than that (hear, hear). He commended his 
 toast to them on the ground of their moral power (applause). The 
 moral power of woman and they would excuse him for introducing 
 the old-fashioned term, for the modern term of "ladies" referred 
 only to a class the moral power of women was unparalleled. Men 
 had nothing like it. They were the founders of the home, and 
 what the homes were the nation was. Pure and good women made pure 
 and good men. Many had been their triumphs in the past, and he 
 hoped many would be their triumphs in the future in the direction 
 of virtue and honour. Napoleon was once talking to a lady on the 
 social condition of this country, and he asked what needed most 
 mending. The reply was, "The women." He then said that if he 
 had the making of the women of France, he would have the finest 
 soldiers in the world. That, he thought, was a high compliment to 
 the women of France from a military point of view. The other 
 day he was in company with a lady not far from that place, and 
 they were talking on the subject of women's rights. He was afraid 
 he was a little sarcastic, for lie did not altogether agree with the 
 different nostrums which were put out about women's rights. The 
 lady quite agreed with him, and said when she heard one of her 
 sex say that she had no influence in her home and over her 
 husband and her children, she always said it was either that lady's 
 misfortune or her fault her misfortune inasmuch as nature had not 
 
SH:I. m-> AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. :ttl 
 
 endowed her with her full measure of womanly qualities, or her 
 fault inasmuch as she did not use those qualities. He was aware 
 while he was telling them those anecdotes that there was another 
 which told in another direction. They might have heard of the 
 village schoolmaster who was wont to say that the children of the 
 village governed the village, and he proved his proposition in this 
 way. He said the children governed the mothers, the mothers 
 _f"\ -n inl tin- fathers, and the fathers ostensibly governed the village; 
 therefore, the children governed the village. That might be true or 
 not, and it .seemed dead against his theory of the moral power of 
 women : but he took it that these children had moral power over 
 their mothers because their mothers had imparted to them that 
 power, and therefore the mothers had the power after all. The 
 Rabbins were wont to say that man was originally created with a 
 tail, but that the < 'ivator cut it off, ami made of the appendage a 
 woman. He had no doubt that this was a fable, like many other 
 things found in the Talmud. But the story had its moral, and was 
 a kind of prediction, for in the course of the natural and moral 
 evolution of ages woman, who was considered and treated as the 
 inferior of man. had become his head, his guide, and his chief 
 (laughter). He was delighted to be the ladies' champion, for, from 
 his point of view, he was throwing himself on the side of the 
 strong, yea, mi the side of the mighty (laughter and cheers). Many 
 and great as had been their triumphs in virtue and truth, might 
 they be as great in the future, for he was afraid, looking round 
 on tin- manhood of England, that the manhood of England wanted 
 H tonic of a moral character. The manhood of England seemed to 
 < rtinu' very Hubby. They thought Habbily, and they expressed 
 themselves flabbily. They wanted tin- tonic which women could 
 .rive, and that would improve them. One word more. They were 
 in the Athena-urn very much indebted t the ladies. It had been 
 said that the churches of to-day were principally filled with bonnets, 
 and that the bare heads and bald pates were conspicuous by their 
 alfnce. He would not dispute that or aririu- the <|iiestiou one wav 
 or the other, except to say if that were the case, all honour to 
 'he bonnet-*, and more shame to the bare heads and the shining 
 pate* I'.ut this he would say, with regard to the Athena-urn, that 
 they were \\oiidi-rfully encouraged and helped by the presence of the 
 ladies (applause) ; not simply by their presence and the sight of 
 their bright eyes, but by that cherry tapping of their elegant feet 
 which encouraged the \ r speakers when they got up to stammer 
 
332 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 out something. He had been speaking of the moral power of the 
 ladies, and he wished they would exert it in bringing more gentlemen 
 into their midst. He hoped those who were fortunate enough to 
 possess husbands would tell them that it was more profitable to 
 come to the Atlienwuin than to be lounging in their clubs or snoozing 
 in their chairs, and that if they went to the Atheniuum they would 
 have a chance of improving their minds. Sisters might advise their 
 brothers to come to the Athen.wuni and improve their minds, or 
 what they were pleased to call their minds, by a course of Athenaeum 
 instruction, and those who had sweethearts might assure them that 
 they would be nothing more than sweethearts until they, too, had 
 been through a course of that instruction. Jf they would only tell 
 them that, he was sure that would fetch them (laughter,). He 
 counted it an extreme honour to be permitted to propose the toast 
 of the ladies, and lie did it with great heartiness (applause). 
 
 The Rev. J. Mauchlen, whose name was coupled with the toast, 
 said the honour of responding for the ladies was one which any man 
 might covet who had the gift of happy speech as well as an intimate 
 acquaintance with their thoughts and feelings, but when that honour 
 was conferred on one like himself, who possessed neither qualification, 
 he thought it was wrongly bestowed. Therefore, while he said a few 
 words on their behalf, he begged the ladies to bear him up in their 
 sympathies and inspire him with some of that subtle influence which 
 had on many occasions inspired men to great deeds and words of 
 eloquence. Although he spoke with the tongue of an angel, he 
 would fail to do justice to the occasion. It was very difficult for men 
 to understand the aspirations of woman, and it was difficult, therefore, 
 for those who had to respond for them to gather up their thoughts 
 and feelings when they were mentioned as they had been on that 
 occasion so difficult that they generally confined themselves to some 
 sparkling nonsense or insincere flattery. That was an abuse of a 
 privilege which would be swept away if the ladies would take it 
 into their own hands and respond for themselves. They could do it 
 well if they would, and tell them their own ideas of the purposes of 
 the Athenaeum. In proof of that he need only call to their minds 
 the speech of the gifted lady who responded to that toast at the 
 dinner in connection with a kindred institution, the Free Library. 
 He had inquired of some ladies what should be the nature of his 
 remarks on that occasion. He did not gain much information, but 
 was sure he was expressing a general feeling among them when lie 
 
SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNKIt. 
 
 333 
 
 he 
 
 said that without proclaiming theniseh v-s self-dependent, they considered 
 that they should 
 
 lit r Spare to Idir.^l'oli out of ;dl 
 
 Within her lot her make hrrsrlf ht-r own 
 ivo nr kcfji. to livt.- and Irani and IT 
 All that not liann.s distinctive womanhood. 
 
 They did nt consider woman, nor did she consider herself to be 
 an undeveloped man : but they should grow like each other he in 
 iweetnecfl and in moral height," she in " mental breadth " and 
 11 larger mind." Such an institution as the Athenaeum was the sure 
 r<ad to this statelier Kden which was to I.e. They had been 
 enough to recognise in the toast that 
 
 The woman's cause is man's. tln-\ rise or sink 
 
 DMT, 1 \iarl\-d <>r ^odliki-. liond or t'n-<-. 
 
 The ladies reciprocated that sentiment, and on their behalf 
 thanked them for the kind way in which the toast hail 
 
 d (applause). 
 
 The Rev. G. S. Ingrain said that although his toast was the 
 last, he did not consider it the least. It was a toast which he had 
 pleasure in proposing, and he was sure it would be most 
 cordially received by every person in the room. It was a toast 
 which had to do a kind of double duty. It was the health of 
 gentleman who was in one sense a pluralist, for he was the 
 chairman of the present assembly and the president of the Athenjeum 
 (applause). He was well known and highly esteemed in the scientific 
 world fur his hi^h attainments. His presidency of the Athen;'um 
 had largely contributed to give that institution a tone and character 
 which he \\.is sure they w-re desirous it should possess and maintain. 
 Its intlm-nri- in the town was < ( uiet and silent, like the action of 
 sunlight on tin- earth, but it was none the less fruitful intellectually 
 and serially. The fa.-t [' its all- 'rdiir: them an opp, ,rt unity of <-omin.-- 
 
 Mid in a five, fr.mk. and friendh 
 
 exchl nd opinions on various BU i interest 
 
 n.uld not fall to pi-i.iin.tc ling and neighboiirliness in the 
 
 community. I' rhurrh's c..nnerti..n with the . \theiia-uiu had 
 
 bi-rii -f 'rival bi-nt-tit to it, and when they considered the many 
 professional engagements he had they felt all the more indebted to 
 him for so frequently presiding over their meetings. Whether it 
 were a lecture that he kindly -ave them or remarks that he made <>n 
 
 under discussion, he always ii, and insti 
 
 them, for lie appeared to be as much at home in the province of 
 poetry and 'jdieial literature as lie was in the domain of science. 
 
334 SPEECHES AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 His presidency had been a powerful factor in helping the Athemeum 
 to its success and to its present position amongst the institutions of 
 the town. Therefore, he had great pleasure in proposing the toast 
 of "The Chairman" (applause). 
 
 The Chairman, who was heartily received, said he rose, he 
 was afraid for the fourth time, and he was afraid he must for 
 the second time use words which would have reference mainly to 
 himself. Anything he could do without trespassing on work which 
 demanded his first attention was always at the service of the 
 Athenseum. He must repeat the fact that the credit of carrying 
 on the institution, as that of its first foundation, was in no wise 
 due to him. It really originated, as he had hoped would have 
 been stated earlier in the evening, in a leading article which was 
 inserted in the Richmond and Twickenham Times, from the pen, he 
 believed, of Mr. King, and headed "A Parliament of Brains," 
 which appeared in the paper on the 1st of October, 1881. In the 
 next issue of that paper, on the 8th of October, letters appeared 
 in support of the suggestion of the article, that a literary and 
 scientific discussion society should be formed, from Mr. G. Phillips 
 Bevan, J.P., Rev. Astley Cooper, Rev. J. Mauchlen, Mr. J. R. 
 Jackson, Rev. G. S. Ingram, Dr. S. Johnson, Mr. Arthur Brewin, 
 Mr. J. Maxwell, and others. The discussion was continued in the 
 columns of the paper from week to week until November 1st, 
 when a public meeting decided to establish the Athenaeum, and 
 appointed a committee to prepare the rules, &c. That committee 
 reported at another meeting, at which the rules were adopted and 
 the officers selected. A considerable number of members were soon 
 enrolled, and the first paper was read on the 9th of January, 1882. 
 It was really to the gentlemen he had named, and others who had 
 served on the council or as vice-presidents and in other offices, that 
 the success of the institution, which had been great in the past, 
 as he hoped it would be in the future, was due. There were two 
 other points to which he wished to refer. The first was that they really 
 were indebted for a great part of their pleasure that evening to the 
 part songs so kindly volunteered by Messrs. Munro, Chapman, Bull, 
 and Steward. He was sure the members of the Athenaeum would 
 desire him to convey to those gentlemen their best thanks for the 
 exquisite additions they had made to the entertainment of the 
 evening (applause). He would like also to state that that day was 
 the seventieth birthday of the gentleman who had so kindly 
 proposed his health, and he was sure they would wish him to 
 
si'KF.i II Ks AT THE COUNCIL DINNER. 
 
 335 
 
 convey to Mr. Ingrain their best wishes and congratulations, and 
 to express their hope that his useful, and, he believed, extremely 
 valuable and happy life in their midst, would be prolonged, with 
 continued health and continued prosperity, for many years to come 
 (loud applause). 
 
 Tin- proceedings then terminated. 
 
Rules of the Athenceum. 
 
 1. That the name of the Society be the "Richmond Atlienanini. " 
 
 2. That the purpose of the Society be the consideration of literary, 
 scientific, social, political, and kindred subjects. 
 
 3. That the affairs of the Society be managed by a council, 
 consisting of twenty ordinary members, together with the president, vice- 
 presidents, treasurer, and secretary, who shall be tx-offido members of such 
 council. 
 
 4. That at all the meetings of the council five shall form a quorum. 
 
 5. That the members of the council and other officers of the Society 
 shall vacate office at the annual general meeting, to be held in October of 
 each year, and shall be eligible for re-election, with the exception of the 
 President, who shall not hold office for two consecutive years. 
 
 6. That the annual subscription be Os., payable in advance in 
 October of each year, and that the name of no member who shall lie in 
 arrear for twelve months remain on the books. 
 
 7. Candidates for admission as members must be proposed in 
 writing by not less than two members of the Society, and on such proposal 
 being approved by the council, and on payment of the annual subscription, 
 shall become members of the Society. That ladies be admitted to the full 
 privileges of membership. 
 
 8. That the council shall have power to remove any member from 
 the Society, upon receiving a requisition to that effect, with the reasons 
 stated, signed by not less than twenty members of the Society. 
 
 9. That the subject of each paper for discussion be first submitted 
 to and approved by the council. 
 
 10. That the time allowed to the reader of a paper or opening 
 speaker be half an hour, and to succeeding speakers ten minutes, the 
 opener to have ten minutes to reply at the conclusion of the discussion. 
 
 11. That by the special vote of any meeting, the reader of a paper 
 or opening speaker be permitted such extension of time as the said meeting 
 shall determine. 
 
 12. That each member be privileged to introduce two friends at the 
 ordinary meetings of the Society on the presentation of visitors' tickets. 
 
 13. That only members be eligible to take part in any discussion, 
 except by the special permission of the chairman of the meeting. 
 
 14. That a special general meeting may at any time be called by 
 the council, fourteen days' notice of the same being given ; and also that 
 it shall be imperative upon the council to call such special general meeting 
 on a requisition to the secretary, specifying tlu j object of such meeting, 
 and signed by not less than twenty members. 
 
 lf>. That the treasurer shall receive all subscriptions and other 
 monies due to the Society, and apply such monies to the discharge of its 
 liabilities. 
 
 16. That the accounts of the Society" be audited annually by 
 auditors to be appointed at the annual general meeting. 
 
 17. That at each annual general meeting a detailed account of 
 the receipts and expenditure shall be presented, such account being made 
 up to the 30th September, and previously audited by the auditors. 
 
 18. That no rule of the Society be altered, except at a special 
 general meeting, notice of which must be given in accordance with Rule 14. 
 
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14 KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, W.C., 
 LONDON, MARCH 1886. 
 
 JOHN C. NIMMO'S 
 
 LIST OF NEW BOOKS 
 
 FOR 
 
 THE SPRING OF 1886. 
 
Publications of JoJm C. Nimmo. 
 
 A New Edition, in Three Volumes, medium 8vo, eloth, 
 fine paper, price 31s. 6d. net. 
 
 BURTON'S 
 
 ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, 
 
 THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY: 
 
 WHAT IT IS, 
 
 WITH ALL THE KINDS, CAUSES, SYMPTOMS, PROGNOSTICS, 
 AND SEVERAL CURES OF IT. 
 
 5n Gbree partitions. 
 
 WITH THEIR SEVERAL SECTIONS, MEMBERS, AND SUBSECTIONS, 
 
 PHILOSOPHICALLY, MEDICINALLY, HISTORICALLY 
 
 OPENED AND CUT UP. 
 
 By DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR 
 
 [ROBERT BURTON]. 
 
 Burton's Anatomy at the time of its original publication obtained a great 
 celebrity, which continued more than half a century. During that period few 
 books were more read or more deservedly applauded. It was the delight of 
 the learned, the solace of the indolent, and the refuge of the uninformed. It 
 passed through at least eight editions, by which the bookseller, as Wood 
 records, got an estate ; and, notwithstanding the objection sometimes opposed 
 against it, of a quaint style and too great an accumulation of authorities, the 
 fascination of its wit, fancy, and sterling sense have borne down all censures, 
 and extorted praise from the first writers in the English language. The grave 
 Johnson has praised it in the warmest terms, and the ludicrous Sterne lias 
 interwoven many parts of it into his own popular performance. Milton did 
 not disdain to build two of his finest poems on it ; and a host of inferior 
 writers have embellished their works with beauties not their own, culled from 
 a performance which they had not the justice even to mention. Change of 
 times and the frivolity of fashion suspended, in some degree, that fame 
 which had lasted nearly a century; and the succeeding generation affected 
 indifference towards an author who at length was only looked into by the 
 plunderers of literature, the poachers in obscure volumes. The plagiarisms 
 of "Tristram Shandy," so successfully brought to light by Dr. Ferriar, at 
 length drew the attention of the public towards a writer who, though then 
 little known, might, without impeachment of modesty, lay claim to every 
 mark of respect ; and inquiry proved, beyond a doubt, that the calls of justice 
 had been little attended to by others as well as the facetious Yorick. Wood 
 observed, more than a century ago, that several authors had unmercifully 
 stolen matter from Burton without any acknowledgment. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 THE SONG OF SONGS. 
 
 SUPER ROYAL QUARTO. 
 
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 BY BIDA. 
 
 ETCHED BY EDMOND H&DOUIN AND 
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 Hlso twelve Culs*fce*Xampes from Designs 
 BY GUSTAVE GREUX. 
 
 Bound in a new and original rich plush padded binding, 
 price Three Guineas net. 
 
 NOTE. "The Song of Songs" is printed from the REVISED 
 VERSION, the copyright of which belongs to the authorities 
 of the Oxford and Cambridge University Presses, who have 
 courteously granted the publisher permission to use it for this 
 purpose. 
 
 The twenty-six full-page etchings are beautifully printed on 
 fine Japanese paper, and carefully mounted on white vellum 
 paper, same as the text is printed on. 
 
 No finer specimens than these of BIDA'S wonderful designs 
 have hitherto appeared. 
 
 24 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 OCTAVE UZANNE'S NEW WORK. 
 
 The Frenchwoman of the Century. 
 
 FASHIONS MANNERS USAGES. 
 
 By OCTAVE UZANNE, 
 
 Author of "The Fan," "The Sunshade, Muff, and Glove." 
 
 Illustrations in Water Colours by ALBERT LYNCH. 
 Engraved in Colours by EUGENE GAUJEAN. 
 
 Super royal 8vo, elegantly bound in padded Japanese leather, 
 price Two Guineas net. 
 
 Only 500 copies are printed, 300 for England and 200 for America. 
 Type distributed. 
 
 NOTE. " The Frenchwoman of the Century," written by Octave Uzanne, 
 gives a description of the principal fashions in France, its customs, manners, 
 and usages from the earliest years of the Revolution to the present time. 
 With the history of the dress is pleasantly intermingled a history of the most 
 notable people of this eventful period. The book sparkles with vivid allusions 
 to the principal men and women of the epoch. Napoleon is photographed in 
 his habit as he lived, and the inner life of the Empress Josephine appears as 
 in a delicate miniature. The work, comprehensive in extent, is at the same 
 time minute in detail. The fashions of the Directory and the First Empire 
 are, as it were, underlined. To the assistance of the letterpress has been 
 called, not without sufficient reason in description of the intricate complexity 
 of Parisian fashions, the able pencil of M. Albert Lynch, who has been careful 
 to supply his water colour illustrations exactly in those places where they 
 were most wanted. These pictures have been subsequently engraved in 
 colours by the skilful hand of Eugene Gaujean. 
 
 The work, careless and superficial it may seem, is in reality a marvel of 
 profound research and exact investigations. Though copious it is not pro- 
 digal, though anecdotal it is seldom trifling, though learned it is never dull. 
 Its expression is polished and lively, its plan precise and duly defined. The 
 best writers of the time for the subject in hand, such as George Duval, 
 Madame d'Abrante, Emile de Girardin, and others of equal reputation have 
 been diligently consulted. The volume is a suitable, almost indeed a neces- 
 sary, appendage to the other works of Uzanne, viz., "The Fan" and "The 
 Sunshade, Muff, and Glove," recently published. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 An elegant and choicely Illustrated Edition of 
 
 The Vicar -of Wakefield. 
 
 By OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 
 
 \Vith Prefatory Memoir by GEORGE SAINTSBURY, and One Hundred and 
 Fourteen Coloured Illustrations by V. A. PoiRSON (Illustrator of "Gul- 
 liver's Travels "). 
 Royal Svo, cloth extra, printed in colours and gilt top, price I2s. 6d. 
 
 NOTE. This edition of Oliver Goldsmith's famous English classic is illus- 
 trated and produced in so sumptuous a form and at so moderate a price, the 
 publisher feels confident the entire edition will be speedily disposed of. It is 
 uniform in size and style of illustration to "Gulliver's Travels" recently pub- 
 lished, and of which three thousand copies were sold in two months. 
 rf*WWWWW**WWiiJVW**W^WWW*WVWWW^h&*i 
 
 Edinburgh and its Neighbourhood 
 
 IN THE DAYS OF OUR GRANDFATHERS. 
 
 A series of Illustrations of the more remarkable Old and New Buildings 
 and PLturesque Scenery of Edinburgh, as they appeared about 1830. With 
 Historical Introduction and Descriptive Sketches by JAMES GOWANS. 
 
 Royal Svo, Eighty Illustrations, fine paper, cloth elegant, price I2s. 6d. 
 
 NOTE. The leading feature of this book will be a series of views of Edin- 
 burgh and its neighbourhood from the original steel plates after drawings by 
 Mr. Thomas H. Shepherd, and published in 1833. Some of these views are 
 of special interest, as they give vivid representations of historical and other 
 edifices now swept away in the course of improvements which have so much 
 altered the features of " the grey metropolis of the north." A few of the 
 original descriptions of the views will be preserved, but most of the others 
 will be superseded by fresh sketches, whilst the original introduction will be 
 recast, and in great part rewritten. Numerous incidents will be supplied 
 illustrative of the social life of the period, when Scott was still the typical 
 representative of the literary life of Scotland, and Christopher North and his 
 associates were exercising a mighty influence in the domain of literature and 
 politics by their diatribes and searching yet sympathetic criticisms in the 
 brilliant pages of Maga. 
 
 A new and beautiful edition of the "IMITATION OF CHRIST," in demy Svo, 
 with the text and quaint borders printed in brown ink, and illustrated 
 with Fifteen Etchings, ten by J. P. LAURENS and five by CH. WALTNER, 
 price 2 is. net, bound in full parchment, gilt top. 
 
 THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. 
 
 FOUR BOOKS. 
 Translated from the Latin by Rev. W. BENHAM, B.D., 
 
 Rector of St Edmund, King and Martyr ; Lombard Street, London. 
 
 NOTE. The etchings to this new edition of the "IMITATION," fifteen in 
 number, and printed on fine Japanese paper, make it one of the most beautiful 
 at present to be had. 
 
 24. King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 IRew Series of Tbistoncal flPemoir'g, 
 The Autobiography of Edward, 
 
 LORD HERBERT OF CHERBURY. 
 
 With Introduction, Notes, Appendices, and a Continuation of the Life. By 
 SYDNEY L. LEE, B.A., Balliol College, Oxford. With Four Etched 
 Portraits, fine paper, medium 8vo, cloth, 2 is. -net. 
 
 NOTE. "Lord Herbert of Cherbury's Autobiography" is one of the most 
 fascinating and entertaining books of its class. The author is devoid of self- 
 consciousness, and keeps no secrets from his readers. He dwells as com- 
 placently on his failings as on his virtues ; his childlike vanity keeps his 
 self-esteem intact in the least promising circumstances. But the book does 
 more than throw a steady light on an attractive personality, it illustrates the 
 habits and customs of English and French society at the beginning of the 
 seventeenth century. No other work so fully describes the contemporary 
 practice of duelling. Abundant reference is made to politics, and it thus 
 forms an important commentary on the history of James the First's reign. 
 Incidentally Lord Herbert enunciates his religious, educational, and meta- 
 physical theories, and substantiates his claim to be regarded as the father of 
 English deism. The autobiography only carries the writer's life as far as the 
 year 1624, and Lord Herbert died in 1648. The book has been reprinted 
 two or three times since its first publication by Horace Walpole in 1764, but 
 it has never been fully edited. In the present edition the editor endeavours 
 to explain the allusions to the historical events, and gives brief accounts of the 
 numerous terms and books mentioned in the text, and interprets the obscure 
 words and phrases. He will also continue Lord Herbert's life until the date 
 of his death, print some of his correspondence, and will attempt to define his 
 place in English literature, philosophy, history, and religion. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Life of William Cavendish, 
 
 DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, 
 
 To which is added the True Relation of My Birth, Breeding, and Life. By 
 MARGARET, DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE. Edited by C. H. FIRTH, M.A. 
 (Editor of "Memoirs of the Life of Colonel Hutchinson.") With Four 
 Etched Portraits, fine paper, medium 8vo, cloth, price 2 is. net. 
 
 NOTE. The Memoirs of the Duke of Newcastle by the Duchess has 
 been judged by Charles Lamb a book "both good and rare," "a jewel which 
 no casket is rich enough to honour or keep safe." The first edition of these 
 Memoirs is, however, difficult to obtain, and the later reprint in form hardly 
 worthy of the original. The aim of the present edition is to supply a book 
 which shall be in type, print, and paper attractive. At the same time, 
 preface, notes, letters, and an index are added to increase its use to the 
 student of seventeenth century history, and to all who are interested in the 
 records of our great civil war. As in the corresponding edition of Mrs. 
 Hutchinson's Memoirs, the spelling is modernised and explanations of 
 obsolete words given. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 NEW SERIES OF HISTORICAL MEMOIRS continued. 
 
 The True History of the Life and 
 Work of William Shakespeare, 
 
 PLAYER, TOET, AND PLAYMAKER. 
 
 By F. G. FLEAY, M.A. With Three Etchings of interest. Fine paper, 
 medium 8vo, half parchment, gilt top, price 155. net. 
 
 NOTE. The theatrical side of the career of Shakespeare has never yet 
 received any adequate consideration, his connection with the theatres and 
 acting companies in his earlier years not having been traced or even investi- 
 gated. His relations with other dramatists, especially with Jonson, have 
 also been grossly misrepresented. While every idle story of mythical gossip 
 has been . carefully collected, and the pettiest details of his commercial 
 dealings have been garnered, little attention has hitherto been given to his 
 dealings with the plays by other men with whom he was fellow-worker, and 
 a large group of evidences bearing on the chronology of his work, derived 
 from the early production of English plays in Germany, has been cast aside 
 as valueless. In this work an attempt is made to collect this neglected 
 material, to throw new light on the Sonnets, and to determine the dates of 
 the production of all his works. A complete list of all plays published with 
 due authority anterior of 1640 by any dramatic writer is given from the 
 Stationers' Registers. Many unfounded hypotheses of Collier, Halliwell, and 
 others are for the first time exploded, and the work of ten years investigation 
 is condensed in a single volume. In many instances one paragraph represents 
 months of labour, and it is hoped that a permanent addition of value is thus 
 made to Shakespearian literature. The arrangement of the book is made so as 
 to appeal not merely to the specialist, but to every one who feels an interest in 
 the greatest writer of any literature, and the crowning glory of our own. 
 
 VOLUMES RECENTLY ISSUED. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. By his 
 
 Widow, LUCY. Revised and Edited by CHARLES H. FIRTH, M.A. 
 With Ten Etched Portraits. Two Volumes, fine paper, medium 8vo, 
 and handsome binding, 425. net. 
 
 NOTE. Only 500 copies are printed, 300 for England and 200 for America. 
 
 Type distributed. 
 
 OLD TIMES: A Picture of Social Life at the End of the Eighteenth 
 Century. Collected and Illustrated from the Satirical and other 
 Sketches of the Day. By JOHN ASHTON, Author of "Social Life in 
 the Reign of Queen Anne." One Volume, fine paper, medium Svo, 
 handsome binding, Eighty-eight Illustrations, 2is. net. 
 THE LIFE OF GEORGE BRUMMELL, Esq., commonly called BEAU 
 BRUMMELL. By Captain JESSE, unattached. Revised and Annotated 
 Edition from the Author's own Interleaved Copy. With Forty Portraits 
 in Colour of Brummell and his Contemporaries. Two Volumes, fine 
 paper, medium Svo, and handsome cloth binding, 425. tut. 
 
 NOTE. Only 500 copies are printed, 300 for England and 200 for America, 
 Type distributed. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. By ANTHONY HAMILTON. A 
 New Edition, Edited, with Notes, by Sir WALTER SCOTT. Wi:h 
 Sixty-Four Portraits engraved by EDWARD SCRIVEN. Two Volumes, 
 Svo, Roxburghe binding, gilt top, 305. net. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 HEW SERIES OF HISTORICAL MEMOIRS continued, 
 
 SOME NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 
 
 HUTCHINSON. 
 
 Athenaeum. 
 
 " Is an excellent edition of a famous book. Mr. Firth presents the ' Memoirs ' 
 with a modernised orthography and a revised scheme of punctuation. He retains 
 the notes of Julius Hutchinson, and supplements them by annotations corrective 
 and explanatory of his own. Since their publication in 1805, the ' Memoirs ' have 
 been a kind of classic. To say that this is the best and fullest edition of them in 
 existence is to say everything." 
 
 Times, 
 
 " Beautifully printed upon fine paper, with rough edges, and with margins 
 which will delight the heart of the book-lover, we announce with pleasure a new 
 edition of Colonel Hutchinson's ' Memoirs,' revised, with additional notes, by Mr. 
 C. H. Firth. This edition, which is in two handsome volumes, contains ten etched 
 portraits of eminent personages. As the editor remarks in his introduction, none 
 of the ' Memoirs ' which relate to the troubled history of the English Civil Wars 
 have obtained a greater popularity than those of Colonel Hutchinson compiled by 
 his wife." 
 
 OLD TIMES. 
 
 . Daily Telegraph. 
 
 " That is the best and truest history of the past which comes nearest to the life 
 of the bulk of the people. It is in this spirit that Mr. John Ashton has composed 
 'Old Times,' intended to be a picture of social life at the end of the eighteenth 
 century. The illustrations form a very valuable, and at the same time quaint and 
 amusing, feature of the volume." 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 " ' Old Times,' however, is not only valuable as a book to be taken up for a few 
 minutes at a time ; a rather careful reading will repay those who wish to brush up 
 their recollections of the period. To some extent it may serve as a book of refer- 
 ence, and even historians may find in it some useful matter concerning the times of 
 which it treats. The book is in every respect suited for a hall or library table in a 
 country house." 
 
 BEAU BRUMMELL. 
 
 Morning Post. 
 
 ' ' The editor of the present edition has been enabled to add much new matter 
 which had been excluded from the original by reason of many of the persons therein 
 referred to being alive at the time. . . . And readers who plod through these two 
 handsome volumes will be rewarded with an admirable picture of English and 
 French society in the days of the Regency." 
 
 Notes and Queries. 
 
 " The book, which is on beautiful paper, is worthy of a place in most collec- 
 tions, and the privilege of possessing it in a form so artistic and handsome is a 
 subject for gratitude. " 
 
 GRAMMONT. 
 
 Hallam. 
 
 "The 'Memoirs of Grammont,' by Anthony Hamilton, scarcely challenge a 
 place as historical ; but we are now looking more at the style than the intrinsic 
 importance of books. Every one is aware of the peculiar felicity and fascinating 
 gaiety which they display." 
 
 T. B. Macaulay. 
 
 ' ' The artist to whom we owe the most highly finished and vividly coloured 
 picture of the English Court in the days when the English Court was gayest." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 An Elegant and Choicely Illustrated Edition of 
 
 Trave Is 
 
 INTO SEVERAL REMOTE NATIONS OF THE WORLD BY LEMUEL GULLIVER, 
 First a Surgeon and then a Captain of Several Ships. By JONATHAN 
 SWIFT, Dean of St. Patrick. With Prefatory Memoir by GEORGE 
 SAINTSBURY, and One Hundred and Eighty Coloured and Sixty Plain 
 Illustrations. Royal 8vo, cloth extra, price I2s. 6d., 450 pages. 
 
 SOME NOTICES OP THE PRESS. 
 
 The Saturday Review. 
 
 Mr. Saintsbury, in editing the fascinating volume before us, wisely refrains 
 from hinting at any matter that may become matter of controversy. The remarks 
 with which he introduces this beautiful edition of one of the masterpieces of the 
 world's literature breathe the very spirit of true criticism. . . . But we have barely 
 alluded to the distinctive features of this edition which make it a book to be 
 coveted and purchased by all true bibliophiles. M. Poiron's pictures, in their 
 delicacy and subtle humour, are in every way worthy of the story. Those which 
 illustrate the Voyage to Lilliput are perhaps the most dainty and delightful in their 
 quaint poetical design and colouring. But there are some uncoloured head and 
 tailpieces which, to all true lovers of art, will appear simply delicious." 
 
 Daily News. 
 
 " No handsomer edition of Swift's renowned work than that which Mr. Nimmo 
 has just published of 'The Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World, 
 by Lemuel Gulliver,' is recorded in the annals of bibliography. Mr. George 
 Saintsbury furnishes a brief biographical and critical introduction." 
 
 Scotsman. 
 
 " The charm of the book, besides the excellence of the printing and generally 
 attractive appearance, lies in the illustrations. They are charmingly drawn bits, 
 some interwoven, so to speak, into the page, others of them occupying the whole 
 page, and all of them marked by a delicacy and refinement which are delightful. 
 Take the edition altogether and it is one of the most remarkable books of its kind 
 that has been published." 
 
 Times. 
 
 " For this handsome edition of ' Gulliver's Travels ' we have nothing but praise. 
 Paper and type are unexceptionable, while there is a profusion of quainUy grotesque 
 illustrations." 
 
 The Guardian. 
 
 " This is in every respect one of those sumptuous volumes which are now being 
 devoted to our standard authors. Every luxury of paper and type have been freely 
 spent upon it, and the numerous illustrations, both plain and coloured, especially 
 perhaps the latter, display a spirit and humour and wealth of delicate and graceful 
 fancy which it would be difficult to surpass. Possibly some of our readers may 
 have a very vague remembrance of what Swift really allowed himself to write. If 
 so, they will be tolerably certain to be attracted by the grace and beauty of this 
 edition of his most popular work. " 
 
 Spectator. 
 
 " Of all Swift's works, ' Gulliver's Travels ' is the most satisfactory and complete, 
 as it is the most famous ; and it follows, therefore, that all lovers of English literature 
 will be pleased at the production of so handsome a reprint as that published by Mr. 
 J. C. Nimmo. A special feature of this edition is the pictures. There is no doubt 
 that the process by which they are produced is extremely delicate and beautiful, 
 the colours being as transparent as water colours, and laid with perfect clearness of 
 outline and precision of detail. And we reinvite those who have not read ' Gulliver's 
 Travels ' since childhood to study once more one of the profoundest and most 
 brilliant satires, one of the greatest of imaginative creations, and one of the noblest 
 models of style in the English language." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
 A 2 
 
io Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 JgEbe :gK3abetban ^Dramatists, 
 
 NOTE. This is the first instalment towards a collective edition of the 
 Dramatists who lived about the time of Shakespeare. The type will be dis- 
 tributed after each work is printed, the impression of which will be four 
 hundred copies, post 8vo, and one hundred and twenty large fine-paper 
 copies, medium 8vo, which will be numbered. 
 
 One of the chief features of this New Edition of the Elizabethan Drama- 
 tists, besides the handsome and handy size of the volumes, will be the fact that 
 each Work -will be carefully edited and new notes given throughout. 
 
 ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE 
 
 (IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, JANUARY 1886) 
 
 ON THE 
 
 jU3abetban Dramatists. 
 
 " If it be true, as we are told on high authority, that the greatest glory of 
 England is her literature, and the greatest glory of English literature is its 
 poetry, it is not less true that the greatest glory of English poetry lies rather 
 in its dramatic than its epic or its lyric triumphs. The name of Shakespeare 
 is above the names even of Milton and Coleridge and Shelley ; and the names 
 of his comrades in art and their immediate successors are above all but the 
 highest names in any other province of our song. There is such an over- 
 flowing life, such a superb exuberance of abounding and exulting strength, in 
 the dramatic poetry of the half century extending from 1590 to 1640, that all 
 other epochs of English literature seem as it were but half awake and half 
 alive by comparison with this generation of giants and of gods. There is 
 more sap in this than in any other branch of the national bay-tree ; it has an 
 energy in fertility which reminds us rather of the forest than the garden or the 
 park. It is true that the weeds and briars of the underwood are but too likely 
 to embarrass and offend the feet of the rangers and the gardeners who trim 
 the level flower-plots or preserve the domestic game of enclosed and ordered 
 lowlands in the tamer demesnes of literature. The sun is strong and the 
 wind sharp in the climate which reared the fellows and the followers of 
 Shakespeare. The extreme inequality and roughness of the ground must 
 also be taken into account when we are disposed, as I for one have often been 
 disposed, to wonder beyond measure at the apathetic ignorance of average 
 students in regard of the abundant treasure to be gathered from this widest 
 and most fruitful province in the poetic empire of England. And yet, since 
 Charles Lamb threw open its gates to all comers in the ninth year of the 
 present century, it cannot but seem strange that comparatively so few should 
 have availed themselves of the entry to so rich and royal an estate. Mr. 
 Bullen has taken up a task than which none more arduous and important, 
 none worthier of thanks and praise, can be undertaken by any English 
 scholar." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 ii 
 
 JjjEIbe 
 
 :n>ramatistg, 
 
 The Works of Christopher Marlowe. 
 
 Edited by A. H. BULLEN, B.A. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 Post 8vo, cloth. Published price, 7s. 6d. per volume net ; also large fine- 
 paper edition, medium 8vo, cloth. 
 
 The Works of Thomas Middleton. 
 
 Edited by A. H. BTJLLEN, B.A. 
 
 In Eight Volumes, post 8vo, 7s. 6d. per volume net ; also large fine-paper 
 edition, medium 8vo, cloth. 
 
 I 
 
 NOTE. The next issue of this series will be The Works of John Marston, 
 in Three Volumes, and The Works of Thomas Dekker, in Four Volumes. 
 The remaining dramatists of this Period will follow in due order. 
 
 vvvvvvvvv^/vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv^ 
 
 Some Press Notices of the Elizabethan Dramatists. 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 " Mr. Bullen has discharged his task as editor in all important points satisfac- 
 torily. Marlowe needs no irrelevant partisanship, no ' zeal of the devil's house, 1 to 
 support his greatness. . . . Mr. Bullen's introduction is well informed and well 
 written, and his notes are well chosen and sufficient. . . . We hope it may be his 
 good fortune to give and ours to receive every dramatist, from Peele to Shirley, in 
 this handsome, convenient, and well-edited form." 
 
 Scotsman. 
 
 " Never in the history of the world has a period been marked by so much of 
 literary power and excellence as the Elizabethan period ; and never have the diffi- 
 culties in the way of literature seemed to be greater. The three volumes which Mr. 
 Nimmo has issued now may be regarded as earnests of more to come, and as proofs 
 of the excellence which will mark this edition of the Elizabethan Dramatists as 
 essentially the best that has been published. Mr. Bullen is a competent editor in 
 every respect." 
 
 The Academy. 
 
 " Mr. Bullen is known to all those interested in such things as an authority on 
 most matters connected with old plays. We are not surprised, therefore, to find 
 these volumes well edited throughout. They are not overburdened with notes." 
 
 The Spectator. 
 
 " That Marlowe should take precedence in Mr. Bullen's arduous undertaking is 
 matter of course. He is the father of the English drama, and the first poet who 
 showed the capabilities of the language when employed in blank verse. His line 
 is not only mighty ; it is sometimes most musical, giving us a foretaste of what 
 English verse was to become in the masterful hands of Shakespeare. We cannot 
 part with Mr. Bullen without congratulating him on his success." 
 
 Contemporary Review. 
 
 " Mr. Bullen relates the little that is known of Marlowe's life with much care, 
 leaving all that he tells us of him beyond the region of doubt ; for with great pains 
 he has succeeded in verifying his statements." 
 
 14 King llilliam Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
12 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 JjElbe J^Usabetban ^Dramatists, 
 
 SOME PRESS NOTICES continued. 
 
 Athenaeum. 
 
 "Mr. Bullen's edition deserves warm recognition. It is intelligent, scholarly, 
 adequate. His preface is judicious. The elegant edition of the dramatists of which 
 these volumes are the first is likely to stand high in public estimation. . . . The 
 completion of the series will be a boon to bibliographers and scholars alike." 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 "... Marlowe has indeed passed the age of simple eulogy, and has reached 
 that of comment. The task set before him by Mr. Bullen is that of supplying a 
 text which shall be as clear and intelligible as the conditions under which plays 
 were printed in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries render possible. In 
 this he has been successful. ... If the series is continued as it is begun, by one 
 of the most careful editors, this set of the English Dramatists will be a coveted 
 literary possession." 
 
 Notes and Queries. 
 
 "Passages of Marlowe are as nervous, as pliant, as perfect as anything in 
 Shakespeare or any succeeding writer. The same may be said of Marlowe's 
 dramatic inspiration. Much mirth has been made over the grandiloquence of his 
 early plays. None the less Marlowe is, in a sense, the most representative drama- 
 tist of his epoch. . . . Appropriately, then, the series Mr. Bullen edits and Mr. 
 Nimmo issues in most attractive guise is headed by Marlowe, the leader, and in 
 some respects all but the mightiest spirit, of the great army of English Dramatists." 
 
 Illustrated London News. 
 
 " It is perhaps, a bold venture on the part of the publisher, or would be if he 
 had chosen an editor less competent than Mr. A. H. Bullen. Marlowe's power was 
 felt by Shakespeare, and felt also by Goethe ; and Mr. Bullen is not, perhaps, a 
 rash prophet in saying that, ' so long as high tragedy continues to have interest for 
 men, Time shall lay no hands on the works of Christopher Marlowe ! ' " 
 
 The Standard. 
 
 "Throughout Mr. Bullen has done his difficult work remarkably well, and the 
 publisher has produced it in a form which will make the edition of early dramatists 
 of which it is a part an almost indispensable addition to a well-stocked library." 
 
 The Quarterly Review. October 1885. 
 
 " We gladly take this opportunity of directing attention to an edition of Marlowe's 
 complete works recently edited by Mr. A. H. Bullen. If the volumes which follow 
 are as carefully edited as this the first instalment of the series is, Mr. Bullen will be 
 conferring a great boon on all who are interested in the Early English Drama." 
 
 The Spectator. October 17, 1885. 
 
 " Probably one of the boldest literary undertakings of our time, on the part of 
 publisher as well as editor, is the fine edition of the Dramatists which has been 
 placed in Mr. Bullen's careful hands ; considering the comprehensiveness of the 
 subject, and the variety of knowledge it demands, the courage of the editor is 
 remarkable." 
 
 The Antiquary. 
 
 " Mr. Swinburne calls Marlowe 'the greatest discoverer, the most daring and 
 inspired pioneer, in all our poetic literature.' " 
 
 Manchester Examiner. 
 
 "Not Shakespeare, not Milton, not Landor, not our own Tennyson, has 
 written lines more splendid in movement or more wealthy in sonorous music than 
 these, from ' The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus ' 
 
 ' Have I not made blind Homer sing to me 
 Of Alexander's love and CEnon's death ? 
 And hath not he who built the walls of Thebes, 
 With ravishing sound of his melodious harp, 
 Made music with my Mephistophilis ? ' " 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, Lotidon, W.C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 13 
 
 Uniform with "Characters of La Eruyire" and a "Handbook of 
 Gastronomy. " 
 
 Robin Hood: 
 
 A COLLECTION OF ALL THE ANCIENT POEMS, SONGS, AND BALLADS now 
 extant relative to that celebrated English Outlaw ; 
 
 To which are prefixed Historical Anecdotes of his Life. 
 By JOSEPH KITSON. 
 
 Illustrated with Eighty Wood Engravings by BEWICK, printed on China 
 
 Paper. 
 
 Also Ten Etchings from Original Paintings by A. H. TOURRIKR 
 and E. BUCKMAN. 
 
 8vo, half parchment, gilt top, 423. net. 
 
 NOTE. 300 copies printed, and each numbered. Also 100 copies on fine 
 imperial paper, with etchings in two states, and richly bound in Lincoln 
 Green Satin. Each copy numbered. Type distributed. 
 
 This edition of " ROBIN HOOD " is printed from that published in 1832, 
 which was carefully edited and printed from Mr. RITSON'S own annotated 
 edition of 1795. 
 
 The Guardian. 
 
 "This reprint of the Robin Hood ballads will be welcome to many who have 
 loved from childhood the rude romance of the famous outlaw ; it will not be the 
 less welcome to them by reason of its excellent paper and print and the reproduc- 
 tion in China paper of Bewick's original woodcuts. A novel and interesting feature 
 of the book is the old musical settings which are appended to some of the songs." 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 " Robin Hood has lived in the old ballads of England for many centuries ; his 
 own exploits and those of his merry men have been sung in every town ; the Eliza- 
 bethan dramatists made him the hero of many of their plays. Southey proposed 
 to write an epic poem on him, Walter Scott delighted in him, Shakespeare brought 
 a faint echo of his life into 'As You Like It,' his bower is still carried through the 
 streets on the first of May, while Maid Marian dances on the pavement for pennies, 
 and still in the pleasant summer afternoons worthy tradesmen flock to the Crystal 
 Palace in doublets of Lincoln green, and with horns that won't blow and bows 
 that won't bend wander through the refreshment-room and the Pompeian Court 
 of that amazing structure in a laudable attempt to combine respectability and pic- 
 turesqueness." 
 
 Notes and Queries. 
 
 " The shape in which this work is presented is uniform with La Bruyere and 
 Brillat-Savarin, the appearance of which has already been noticed. Pickering's 
 edition of 1832, which contains the additions of Ritson and of his editor and 
 nephew, including the tale of Robin Hood and the Monk, the existence of which 
 was ignored by Ritson, has been followed, and the woodcuts of Bewick have been 
 retained. These are now printed upon India paper, with a view of communicating 
 greater softness. To these indispensable illustrations have been added nine etch- 
 ings which now first see the light, from original paintings by A. H. Tourner and 
 vkman. Some of these, which are also on India paper, are very spirited in 
 design and rich in execution. A handsomer edition of Ritson's Robin Hood, or a 
 more coveted possession to the bibliophile, is not to be expected." 
 
 The Literary World. 
 
 "Any who cherish a love for mediaeval lore will find much to delight 
 them in Ritson's Robin Hood, and an edition more desirable than the one Mr. 
 Nimmo has given us could hardly be demanded by the most fastidious of book 
 collectors. The print and paper superb, and the illustrations have all the fresh- 
 ness of originals." 
 
 14 King William Street ', Strand, London, JV.C. 
 
14 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 A. B. FROST'S NEW ILLUSTRATED WORK. 
 
 loo Illustrations. Crown 8vo } cloth, gilt top, $s. 
 
 Rudder Grange. 
 
 By FRANK B. STOCKTON. 
 
 The new "Rudder Grange" has not been illustrated in a conventional way. 
 Mr. Frost has given us a series of interpretations of Mr. Stockton's fancies 
 which will delight every appreciative reader, sketches scattered through the 
 text ; larger pictures of the many great and memorable events, and every- 
 where quaint ornaments and headpieces. It is, on the whole, one of the 
 best existing specimens of the complete supplementing of one another by 
 author and artist. 
 
 SOME PRESS NOTICES. 
 
 The Times. " Many of the smaller drawings are wonderfully spirited ; there are sketchy 
 suggestions of scenery, which recall the pregnant touches of Bewick ; and the figures of 
 animals and of human types are capital, from the row of roosting fowls at the beginning ol 
 the chapter to the dilapidated tramp standing hat in hand." 
 
 Scotsman. " Externally it is an uncommonly pretty volume, and the pencil of Mr. A. B. 
 Frost has been employed to brighten its pages with a hundred capital illustrations." 
 
 Daily Telegraph. " Allured by the graphic illustrations, no fewer than a hundred, which 
 the pencil of Mr. A. B. Frost has furnished, the reader who takes in hand Mr. Frank R. 
 Stockton's ' Rudder Grange ' will have no reason to regret the fascination, or to wish he had 
 resisted it ; altogether the book is full of quiet and humorous amusement. " 
 
 Morning Post. " It will be welcomed in its new dress by many who have already made 
 the acquaintance of Euphemia and Pomona, as well as by many who will now meet those 
 excellent types of feminine character for the first time." 
 
 Saturday Review. " The new edition of ' Rudder Grange ' has a hundred illustrations by 
 Mr. A. B. Frost ; they are extremely good, and worthy of Mr. Stockton's amusing book." 
 
 Court and Society Review. " After looking at the pictures we found ourselves reading the 
 book again, and enjoying Pomona and her reading, and her adventure with the lightning 
 rodder, and her dog-fight as much as ever. And to read it twice over is the greatest compli- 
 ment you can pay to a book of American humour." 
 
 Figaro. "The volume contains no less than a hundred illustrations large and small, all 
 charming, and what is even better, all appropriate. There is no doubt that it will be very 
 popular. " 
 
 Society. " Mr. Stockton's story is quaintly conceived and thoroughly American in style, the 
 characters being most amusing types, and Mr. Frost has provided a host of quaintly grotesque 
 illustrations, large and small, adding much to the intrinsic merit of the work." 
 
 Guardian. ' ' The illustrations by Mr. A. B. Frost to the new edition are extremely humorous 
 and the edition itself is handsome both in type and paper. No one who cares to know what 
 American humour is at its best should be without a copy of ' Rudder Grange.' " 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 A VERY FUNNY ILLUSTRATED HUMOROUS BOOK. 
 
 Stuff and Nonsense. 
 
 By A. B. FROST, 
 
 The Illustrator of Stockton's " Rudder Grange." 
 Small 4to, illustrated boards, price 6s. 
 
 Mr. Frost has made a wonderfully amusing and clever book. There are 
 in all more than one hundred pictures, many with droll verses and ludicrous 
 jingles. Others are unaccompanied by any text, for no one knows better 
 than Mr. Frost how to tell a funny story, in the funniest way, with his artist's 
 pencil. 
 
 Standard." This is a book which will please equally people of all ages. The 
 illustrations are not only extremely funny, but they are drawn with wonderful 
 artistic ability, and are full of life and action. 
 
 " It is far and away the best book of ' Stuff and Nonsense ' which has appeared 
 for a long time." 
 
 Times. " It is a most grotesque medley of mad ideas, carried out nevertheless 
 with a certain regard to consistency, if not to probability." 
 
 Figaro. "The verses and jingles which accompany some of the illustrations 
 are excellent fooling, but Mr. Frost is also able to tell a ludicrous story with his 
 pencil only." 
 
 Press. "The most facetious bit of wit that has been penned for many a day, 
 both in design and text, is Mr. A. B. Frost's 'Stuff and Nonsense.' 'A Tale of a 
 Cat' is funny, 'The Balloonists' is perhaps rather extravagant, but nothing can 
 outdo the wit of 'The Powers of the Human Eye,' whilst 'Ye ^Esthete, ye Boy, 
 and ye Bullfrog ' may be described as a 'roarer.' Mr. Frost's pen and pencil know 
 how to chronicle fun, and their outcomes should not be overlooked." 
 
 Graphic." Grotesque in the extreme. His jokes will rouse many a laugh." 
 
 Daily News, "There is really a marvellous abundance of fun in this volume 
 of a harmless kind." 
 
 Athenaeum. " Clever sketches of grotesque incidents." 
 
 Literary World." A hundred and twenty excruciatingly funny sketches." 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Fatal Mistake A Tale of a Cat. 
 Ye /Esthete, ye Boy, and ye Bullfrog. 
 The Balloonists. 
 The Powers of the Human Eye. 
 The Crab-Boy and His Elephant. 
 The Old Man of Moriches. 
 The Bald-headed Man. 
 The Mule and the Crackers. 
 The Influence of Kindness. 
 Bobby and the Little Green Apples. 
 The Awful Comet. 
 The Tug of War. 
 The Ironical Flamingo. 
 
 14 King WiUiam Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
1 6 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 LIMITED EDITIONS 
 
 * 
 
 The Two Guinea Half-Bound Parchment 
 Series of Choice Works. 
 
 A Handbook of Gastronomy. 
 
 (BRILLAT-SAVARIN'S "Physiologic du Gout.") New and Complete Trans- 
 lation, with 52 original Etchings by A. LALAUZE. Printed on China 
 Paper. 8vo, half parchment, gilt top, 425. net. 
 NOTE. 300 copies printed, and each numbered. Type distributed. 
 
 [Out of print. 
 
 The Characters of Jean de La Bruyere. 
 
 NEWLY RENDERED INTO ENGLISH. With an Introduction, Biographical 
 Memoir, and Copious Notes, by HENRI VAN LAUN. With Seven 
 Etched Portraits by B. DAMMAN, and Seventeen Vignettes etched by V. 
 FOULQUIER, and printed on China paper. 8vo, half parchment, gilt top, 
 425. net. 
 NOTE. 300 copies printed, and each numbered. Type distributed. 
 
 [Out of print. 
 
 The Complete Angler; 
 
 OR, THE CONTEMPLATIVE MAN'S RECREATION, of IZAAK WALTON and 
 CHARLES COTTON. Edited by JOHN MAJOR. A New Edition, with 8 
 original Etchings (2 Portraits and 6 Vignettes), two impressions of each, 
 one on Japanese and one on Whatman paper ; also, 74 Engravings on 
 Wood, printed on China Paper throughout the text. 8vo, cloth or half 
 parchment elegant, gilt top, 315. 6d. net. 
 
 NOTE. 500 copies printed. 
 
 [Out of print. 
 
 Robin Hood: 
 
 A COLLECTION OF ALL THE ANCIENT POEMS, SONGS, AND BALLADS now 
 extant relative to that celebrated English Outlaw ; to which are prefixed 
 Historical Anecdotes of his Life. By JOSEPH RITSON. Illustrated with 
 Eighty Wood Engravings by BEWICK, printed on China paper. Also 
 Ten Etchings from Original Paintings by A. H. TOURRIER and E. 
 BUCKMAN. 8vo, half parchment, gilt top, 425. net. 
 
 NOTE. 300 copies printed, and each numbered. Also 100 copies on fine 
 imperial paper, with etchings in two states, and richly bound in Lincoln 
 Green Satin. Each copy numbered. Type distributed. 
 
 This edition of " ROBIN HOOD" is printed from that published in 1832, 
 which was carefully edited and printed from Mr. RITSON'S own annotated 
 edition of 1795. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. i 7 
 
 Carols and Poems 
 
 FROM THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY TO THE PRESENT TIME. 
 Edited by A. H. BTTLLEN, B.A. 
 
 Post 8vo, cloth, elegant gilt top, price 5s. 
 
 NOTE. 1 20 copies printed on fine medium 8vo paper, with Seven 
 Illustrations on Japanese paper. Each copy numbered. 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 " Since the publication of Mr. Sandys' collection there have been many books 
 issued on carols, but the most complete by far that we have met with is Mr. Bullen's 
 new volume, ' Carols and Poems from the Fifteenth Century to the Present Time. ' 
 The preface contains an interesting account of Christmas festivities and the use of 
 carols. Mr. Bullen has exercised great care in verifying and correcting the collec- 
 tions of his predecessors, and he has joined to them two modern poems by Hawker, 
 two by Mr. William Morris, and others by Mr. Swinburne, Mr. Symonds, and Miss 
 Rossetti. No one has been more successful than Mr. Morris in imitating the ancient 
 carol : 
 
 ' Outlanders, whence come ye last ? 
 
 The snow in the street and the wind on the door. 
 Through what green sea and great have ye past ? 
 
 Minstrels and maids stand forth on the floor.' 
 Altogether this is one of the most welcome books of the season." 
 
 Morning Post. 
 
 " Good Christian people all, and more especially those of artistic or poetic inclina- 
 tions, will feel indebted to the editor and publisher of this fascinating volume, which, 
 bound as it is in elegant cloth, ornamented with sprigs of holly, may fairly claim to 
 be considered par excellence the gift-book of the season. ' Carols and Poems ' are 
 supplemented by voluminous and interesting notes by the editor, who also contributes 
 some very graceful dedicatory verses." 
 
 Spectator. 
 
 " Mr. Bullen divides his ' Carols and Poems from the Fifteenth Century to the 
 Present Time ' into three parts ' Christmas Chants and Carols," ' Carmina Sacra,' 
 and ' Christmas Customs and Christmas Cheer.' These make up together between 
 seventy and eighty poems of one kind and another. The selection has been carefully 
 made from a wide range of authors. Indeed, it is curious to see the very mixed 
 company which the subject of Christmas has brought together as, indeed, it is quite 
 right that it should. Altogether the result is a very interesting book." 
 
 Notes and Queries. 
 
 " Mr. Bullen does not indeed pretend to cater for those who regard carols from 
 a purely antiquarian point of view. His book is intended to be popular rather than 
 scholarly. Scholarly none the less it is, and representative also, including as it does 
 every form of Christmas strain, from early mysteries down to poems so modern as not 
 previously to have seen the light." 
 
 The Times. 
 
 " Is very exceptionally a Christmas book, and a book at which we may cut and 
 come again through this sentimentally festive season. It forms a ' Christmas Garland ' 
 of the sweetest or the quaintest carols, ancient and modern." 
 
 Athenaeum. 
 
 "Is an excellent collection of ancient and modern verse, mostly religious and 
 sentimental, formed with much learning, research, and taste by Mr. A. H. Bullen." 
 
 Illustrated London News. 
 
 " The atmosphere of these plain-speaking songs is of the rarest purity. They come 
 from the heart, and appeal to it, when the way is not choked up by the thorns and briers 
 of conventional propriety. The reader accustomed to more artificial strains may not 
 see the beauty of these songs at first, but it will grow upon him by degrees ; and 
 possibly he will look with something like regret to the old-world days when verses so 
 pure and quaint were household words in England." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
1 8 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 IRiomances, 
 
 of antas ant> 
 
 Illustrated with Etchings, crown 8vo, parchment boards or cloth, 
 75. 6d. per vol. 
 
 The Times. 
 
 " Among the numerous handsome reprints which the publishers of the day vie 
 with each other in producing, we have seen nothing of greater merit than this 
 series of volumes. Those who have read these masterpieces of the last century in 
 the homely garb of the old editions may be gratified with the opportunity of perusing 
 them with the advantages of large clear print and illustrations of a quality which is 
 rarely bestowed on such reissues. The series deserve every commendation." 
 
 THE HISTORY OF DON QUIXOTE DE LA MANCHA. 
 
 Translated from the Spanish of MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA by 
 MOTTEUX. With copious Notes (including the Spanish Ballads), and 
 an Essay on the Life and Writings of CERVANTES by JOHN G. LOCK- 
 HART. Preceded by a Short Notice of the Life and Works of PETER 
 ANTHONY MOTTEUX by HENRI VAN LAUN. Illustrated with Sixteen 
 Original Etchings by R. DE Los Rios. Four Volumes. 
 
 LAZARILLO DE TORMES. By Don DIEGO MENDOZA. Trans- 
 lated by THOMAS ROSCOE. And GUZMAN D'ALFARACHE. 
 By MATEO ALEMAN. Translated by BRADY. Illustrated with Eight 
 Original Etchings by R. DE Los Rios. Two Volumes. 
 
 ASMODEUS. By LE SAGE. Translated from the French. Illustrated 
 with Four Original Etchings by R. DE Los Rios. 
 
 THE BACHELOR OF SALAMANCA. By LE SAGE. Translated 
 from the French by JAMES TOWNSEND. Illustrated with Four Original 
 Etchings by R. DE Los Rios. 
 
 VANILLO GONZALES; or, The Merry Bachelor. By LE SAGE. 
 Translated from the French. Illustrated with Four Original Etchings 
 by R. DE Los Rios. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS OF SANTILLANE. 
 Translated from the French of LE SAGE by TOBIAS SMOLLETT. With 
 Biographical and Critical Notice of LE SAGE by GEORGE SAINTSBURY. 
 New Edition, carefully revised. Illustrated with Twelve Original Etch- 
 ings by R. DE Los Rios. Three Volumes. 
 
 THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY, 
 GENTLEMAN. By LAURENCE STERNE. In Two Vols. With Eight 
 Etchings by DAMMAN from Original Drawings by HARRY FURNISS. 
 
 THE OLD ENGLISH BARON: A GOTHIC STORY. By CLARA 
 REEVE. THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO : A GOTHIC STORY. 
 By HORACE WALPOLE. In One Vol. With Two Portraits and Four 
 Original Drawings by A. H. TOURRIER, Etched by DAMMAN. 
 
 THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS. In Four 
 Vols. Carefully Revised and Corrected from the Arabic by JONATHAN 
 SCOTT, LL.D., Oxford. With Nineteen Original Etchings by AD. 
 LALAUZE. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 19 
 
 ILLUSTRATED ROMANCE SERIES continued. 
 
 
 i 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE CALIPH VATHEK. By WM. 
 
 BECKFORD. With Notes, Critical and Explanatory. RASSELAS, 
 PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA. By SAMUEL JOHNSON. In One Vol. 
 With Portrait of BECKFORD, and Four Original Etchings, designed by 
 A. H. TOURRIER, and Etched by DAM MAN. 
 
 ROBINSON CRUSOE. By DANIEL DEFOE. In Two Vols. With 
 Biographical Memoir, Illustrative Notes, and Eight Etchings by M. 
 MOUILLERON, and Portrait by L. FLAMENG. 
 
 GULLIVER'S TRAVELS. By JONATHAN SWIFT. With Five 
 Etchings and Portrait by AD. LALAUZE. 
 
 SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY. By LAURENCE STERNE. A 
 TALE OF A TUB. By JONATHAN SWIFT. In One Vol. With 
 Five Etchings and Portrait by ED. HEDOUIN. 
 
 THE TALES AND POEMS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 With Biographical Essay by JOHN H. INGRAM, and Fourteen Original 
 Etchings, Three Photogravures, and a Portrait newly etched from a life- 
 like Daguerreotype of the Author. In Four Volumes. 
 
 WEIRD TALES. By E. T. W. HOFFMAN. A New Translation 
 from the German. With Biographical Memoir by J. T. BEALBY, for- 
 merly Scholar of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. With Portrait and 
 Ten Original Etchings by AD. LALAUZE. In Two Volumes. 
 
 kVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV^ 
 
 Imperial 8vo, Extra Illustrated Edition of 
 
 The Complete Angler; 
 
 OR, THE CONTEMPLATIVE MAN'S RECREATION OF 
 IZAAK WALTON AND CHARLES COTTON. 
 
 Edited by JOHN MAJOR. 
 
 Full bound morocco elegant (ZaehnsdorPs binding), price Five Guineas net. 
 
 This Extra-illustrated Edition of THE COMPLETE ANGLER is specially 
 designed for Collectors of this famous work ; and in order to enable them 
 either to take from or add to the Illustrations, it is also supplied unbound, 
 folded and collated. 
 
 The Illustrations consist of Fifty Steel Plates, designed by T. STOT- 
 HARD, R.A., JAMES INSKIP, EDWARD HASSELL, DELAMOTTE, BINKEN- 
 BOOM, W. HIXON, SIR FRANCIS SYKES, Bart., PINE, &c. &c., and engraved 
 by well-know n Engravers. Also Six Original Etchings and Two Portraits, 
 as well as Seventy-four Engravings on Wood by various Eminent Artists. 
 
 To this is added a PRACTICAL TREATISE on FLIES and FLY HOOKS, 
 by the late JOHN JACKSON, of Tanfield Mill, with Ten Steel Plates, coloured, 
 representing 120 Flies, natural and artificial. 
 
 One Hundred and Twenty copies only art printed, each of which is numbered. 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
2O Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 The Fan. By OCTAVE UZANNE. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH DESIGNS BY PAUL AVRIL. 
 Royal 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 315. 6d. net. 
 
 The Sunshade The Glove The Muff. 
 
 By OCTAVE UZANNE. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH DESIGNS BY PAUL AVRIL. 
 
 Royal 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 313. 6d. net. 
 
 NOTE. The above are English Editions of the unique and artistic works , 
 " L? Eventail" and " L'Ombrelle" recently published in Paris, and now difficult 
 to be procured, as no new Edition is to be produced. 500 copies only are printed. 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 "An English counterpart of the well-known French books by Octave Uzanne, 
 with Paul Avril's charming illustrations." 
 
 Standard. 
 
 " It gives a complete history of fans of all ages and places ; the illustrations are 
 dainty in the extreme. Those who wish to make a pretty and appropriate present 
 to a young lady cannot do better than purchase ' The Fan.' " 
 
 Athenaeum. 
 
 "The letterpress comprises much amusing ' chit-chat," and is more solid than it 
 pretends to be. This brochure is worth reading ; nay, it is worth keeping." 
 
 Art Journal. 
 
 ' ' At first sight it would seem that material could never be found to fill even a 
 volume; but the author, in dealing with his first subject alone, 'The Sunshade,' 
 says he could easily have filled a dozen volumes of this emblem of sovereignty. 
 The work is delightfully illustrated in a novel manner by Paul Avril, the pictures 
 which meander about the work being printed in varied colours." 
 
 Daily News. 
 
 " The pretty adornments of the margin of these artistic volumes, the numerous 
 ornamental designs, and the pleasant vein of the author's running commentary, 
 render these the most attractive monographs ever published on a theme which in- 
 terests so many enthusiastic collectors." 
 
 Glasgow Herald. 
 
 " ' I have but collected a heap of foreign flowers, and brought of my own only 
 the string which binds them together,' is the fitting quotation with which M. Uzanne 
 closes the preface to his volume on woman's ornaments. The monograph on the 
 sunshade, called by the author ' a little tumbled fantasy,' occupies fully one-half of 
 the volume. It begins with a pleasant invented mythology of the parasol ; glances 
 at the sunshade in all countries and times ; mentions many famous umbrellas : quotes 
 a number of clever sayings. ... To these remarks on the spirit of the book it is 
 necessary to add that the body of it is a dainty marvel of paper, type, and binding, 
 and that what meaning it has looks out on the reader through a hundred argus-eyes 
 of many-tinted photogravures, exquisitely designed by M. Paul Avril." 
 
 Westminster Review. 
 
 "The most striking merit of the book is the entire appropriateness both of the 
 letterpress and illustrations to the subject treated. M. Uzanne's style has all the 
 airy grace and sparkling brilliancy of the petit instrument whose praise he cele- 
 brates, and M. Arvil's drawings seem to conduct us into an enchanted world where 
 everything but fans are forgotten." 
 
 14 King William Sired > Strand^ London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 21 
 
 Copyright Edition, with Ten Etched Portraits. In Ten Vols., demy 8vo, 
 cloth, $, 55. 
 
 Lingard's History of England. 
 
 FROM THE FIRST INVASION BY THE ROMANS TO THE 
 ACCESSION OF WILLIAM AND MARY IN 1688. 
 
 By JOHN LINGABD, D.D. 
 
 This New Copyright Library Edition of " Lingard's History of England," 
 besides containing all the latest notes and emendations of the Author, with 
 Memoir, is enriched with Ten Portraits, newly etched by Damman, of the 
 following personages, viz. : Dr. Lingard, Edward L, Edward III., Cardinal 
 Wolsey, Cardinal Pole, Elizabeth, James I., Cromwell, Charles II., 
 James II. 
 
 The Times. 
 
 " No greater service can be rendered to literature than the republication, in a 
 handsome and attractive form, of works which time and the continued approbation 
 of the world have made classical. . . . The accuracy of Lingard's statements on 
 many points of controversy, as well as the genial sobriety of his view, is now 
 recognised." 
 
 The Tablet. 
 
 " It is with the greatest satisfaction that we welcome this new edition of Dr. 
 Lingard's ' History of England.' It has long been a desideratum. . . . No 
 general history of England has appeared which can at all supply the place of 
 Lingard, whose painstaking industry and careful research have dispelled many a 
 popular delusion, whose candour always carries his reader with him, and whose 
 clear and even style is never fatiguing." 
 
 The Spectator. 
 
 1 ' We are glad to see that the demand for Dr. Lingard's England still continues. 
 Few histories give the reader the same impression of exhaustive study. This new 
 edition is excellently printed, and illustrated with ten portraits of the greatest per- 
 sonages in our history." 
 
 Dublin Review. 
 
 " It is pleasant to notice that the demand for Lingard continues to be such that 
 publishers venture on a well-got-up library edition like the one before us. More than 
 sixty years have gone since the first volume of the first edition was published ; many 
 equally pretentious histories have appeared during that space, and have more or less 
 disappeared since, yet Lingard lives is still a recognised and respected authority." 
 
 The Scotsman. 
 
 " There is no need, at this time of day, to say anything in'vindication of the im- 
 portance, as a standard work, of Dr. Lingard's ' History of England.' ... Its 
 intrinsic merits are very great. The style is lucid, pointed, and puts no strain upon 
 the reader ; and the printer and publisher have neglected nothing that could make 
 this what it is likely long to remain the standard edition of a work of great 
 historical and literary value." 
 
 Daily Telegraph. 
 
 " True learning, untiring research, a philosophic temper, and the possession of 
 a graphic, pleasing style were the qualities which the author brought to his task, 
 and they are displayed in every chapter of his history." 
 
 Weekly Register. 
 
 1 ' In the full force of the word a scholarly book. Lingard's history is destined to 
 bear a part of growing importance in English education." 
 
 Manchester Examiner. 
 
 " He stands alone in his own school ; he is the only representative of his own 
 phase of thought. The critical reader will do well to compare him with those who 
 went before and those who came after him." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
22 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 Imaginary Conversations. 
 
 By WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 
 
 In Five Vols. crown 8vo, cloth, 305. 
 
 FIRST SERIES CLASSICAL DIALOGUES, GREEK AND ROMAN. 
 SECOND SERIES DIALOGUES OF SOVEREIGNS AND STATESMEN. 
 THIRD SERIES DIALOGUES OF LITERARY MEN. 
 FOURTH SERIES DIALOGUES OF FAMOUS WOMEN. 
 FIFTH SERIES MISCELLANEOUS DIALOGUES. 
 
 NOTE. This New Edition is printed from the last Edition of his Works, 
 revised and edited by John Forster, and is published by arrangement with the 
 Proprietors of the Copyright of IValter Savage Landor s Works. 
 
 The Times. 
 
 "The abiding character of the interest excited by the writings of Walter Savage 
 Landor, and the existence of a numerous band of votaries at the shrine of his 
 refined genius, have been lately evidenced by the appearance of the most remark- 
 able of Landor's productions, his 'Imaginary Conversations," taken from the last 
 edition of his works. To have them in a separate publication will be convenient 
 to a great number of readers." 
 
 The Athenaeum. 
 
 "The appearance of this tasteful reprint would seem to indicate that the present 
 generation is at last waking up to the fact that it has neglected a great writer, and 
 if so, it is well to begin with Landor's most adequate work. It is difficult to over- 
 praise the ' Imaginary Conversations.' The eulogiums bestowed on the 'Conver- 
 sations' by Emerson will, it is to be hoped, lead many to buy this book." 
 
 Scotsman. 
 
 "An excellent service has been done to the reading public by presenting to it, in 
 five compact volumes, these 'Conversations.' Admirably printed on good paper, 
 the volumes are handy in shape, and indeed the edition is all that could be desired. 
 When this has been said, it will be understood what a boon has been conferred on 
 the reading public ; and it should enable many comparatively poor men to enrich 
 their libraries with a work that will have an enduring interest." 
 
 Literary World. 
 
 "That the 'Imaginary Conversations' of Walter Savage Landor are not better 
 known is no doubt largely due to their inaccessibility to most readers, by reason of 
 their cost. This new issue, while handsome enough to find a place in the best of 
 libraries, is not beyond the reach of the ordinary bookbuyer." 
 
 Edinburgh Review. 
 
 " How rich in scholarship ! how correct, concise, and pure in style ! how full of 
 imagination, wit, and humour ! how well informed, how bold in speculation, how 
 various in interest, how universal in sympathy ! In these dialogues making 
 allowance for every shortcoming or excess the most familiar and the most august 
 shapes of the past are reanimated with vigour, grace, and beauty. We are in the 
 high and goodly company of wits and men of letters ; of churchmen, lawyers, and 
 statesmen ; of party men, soldiers, and kings ; of the most tender, delicate, and 
 noble women ; and of figures that seem this instant to have left for us the Agora or 
 the Schools of Athens, the Forum or the Senate of Rome." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 73 
 
 In One Volume, 8vo, cloth, price 75. 6d. 
 
 The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles 
 
 (AIAAXH TN AAEKA AH02TOAON). 
 
 Ktcently Discovered and Published by PHILOTHEOS BRYENNIOS, Metropcliitr. 
 
 of A'icomtdia. 
 Edited, with a Translation, Introduction, and Notes, by ROSWELL D. 
 
 HITCHCOCK and FRANCIS BROWN, 
 
 Professors in Union Iheological Semin iry, New York. 
 
 Revised and Enlarged. 
 
 Extract from the Preface. 
 
 11 Among the special features of this edition may be noticed the discussions as 
 to the integrity of the text ; as to the relations between the ' Teaching ' and other 
 early Christian documents, with translations of these in extenso, so far as seemed 
 desirable for purposes of comparison ; the presentation, entire, with annotations, 
 of Kramutzcky's now famous reproduction of 'The Two Ways ;' the sections on 
 the peculiarities of the Codex, the printed texts, and the recent literature ; and the 
 care expended on the history of the characteristic Greek words ' of the Teaching.' 
 
 "The editors feel sure that continued study will only add to the interest felt by 
 scholars in this unique product of early Christianity, and enhance their estimate o'f 
 its importance." 
 
 Westminster Review. 
 
 ' ' This enlargement of the hastily prepared edition brought out last year by the 
 same editors seems to us one of the most complete and valuable of the numerous 
 commentaries on the 'Teaching.' The matter of the discourse need not again be 
 dealt with ; it may suffice to say that these introductions and notes show thoroughly 
 sound and scholarly work, and the reproduction of the conjectural restoration of 
 4 The Two Ways ' by Kramutzcky, with which our editors incline to identify the 
 document, may be read with interest, even by non-theologians, as a justification of 
 reconstructive criticism.' The commentary, too, though mainly for experts, may 
 be read with profit by any who are interested in scholarship. We cordially welcome 
 this new evidence of the activity of America in theological learning." 
 
 Spectator. 
 
 " Of the several editions of the ' Teaching ' none is more worthy of the student's 
 attention than this. A very full introduction gives an account of this very remark- 
 able work of Christian antiquity (certainly the first in intrinsic value of the sub- 
 Apostolic writings), of the circumstances of its discovery, &c. Then follows, first, 
 the text, with a translation on the opposite pages, then notes, and then an 
 appendix. " 
 
 The Scotsman. 
 
 "There are few literary discoveries of recent years which have been so interest- 
 ing to ecclesi;tstical scholars, or which have aroused more discussion, than that by 
 Bryennios, Metropolitan of Nicomedia, of a manuscript in the library of the 
 Monastery of the Holy Sepulchre in Constantinople. Found in 1873, it was pub- 
 lished in 1883, and for the first time scholars became acquainted with a work 
 which they had seen Untalisingly referred to, quoted, and used by early Christian 
 writers." 
 
 The Bookseller. 
 
 "If genuine, and apparently there is no reason to doubt its being so, this is one 
 of the most important documents connected with historical theology that has been 
 discovered for many years. It professes to be a summary of the Christian religion 
 as taught by the Apostles themselves. ... If the editors be correct in their con- 
 jectures, the * Teaching ' must have been written about the end of the first century 
 or very early in the second." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY