ihffiJ»:;iCXi-{s»rn.-r-X, -1 C^iSS '■•i iHiBf^nn*f^ '^^fl i 8 J^ ■ii ^ ms O^j^l JAN ^ ^^ "a FEB 21950 -^1 Form L-9-15»n-8,'26 BESERVE SfP 1954^ FECD tD-ORC ■EB 1 6 198 KB l^g SEP 1958 JUN 1958 X P 1956 X X P 1955 j( X ■ *>r» o rk ^ir Cljomas itlotri^ ' I • t OR, COLLOQUIES ON THE PROGRESS AND PROSPECTS OF SOCIETY. BY ROBERT SOUTHEY, Esq., LL.D. POET LAUREATE, HONORARr KrEMBBR OP THE ROYAL SPANISH ACADEMY, OF THE ROYAL SPANISH ACADESIY OP HISTORY. OP THE ROYAL INSTITUTE OF THE NETHERLANDS, OP THE CYMMRODORION, OP THE MASSA- CHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY, OF THE AMERICAN ANTIQUARIAN SOCIETY, OP THE ROYAL IRISH ACADEMY, OP THE BRISTOL PHILOSOPHICAL AND LITERARY SOCIETY, OP THE METROPOLITAN INSTITUTION, OP THE PHILOMATHIC INSTITUTION, &C. RESPICE, ASPICE, PKOSPICE. St. Behnabd. WITH PLATES. THE SECOND EDITION, IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL 11. LONDON : JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET. MDCCCXXXI, e-; 'i 1 3 2 t.lC« Cc4«« ■ • • • ' Ht,Yiru dvQpai-ffots copiaasiv. — GALATIANS, T. 10. *fi(TT£ sx^ios VIJ.WV yiyovx dXriQevcov viuy. — GALATIANS IV. lO. 4 Jfr- O iJ London:— Printed by W. Clowes, Stamford-slreet. CONTENTS OF VOLUME II. COLLOQUY XL Infidelity. — Church Establishment .... 1 COLLOQUY XIL Blencathra. — Threlkeld Tarn. — The Cliffords . . 59 PART 11. Privileged Orders. — The American Governments . 83 COLLOQUY Xin. The River Greta. — Trade. — Population.— Colonies . 150 COLLOQUY XIV. The Library s ... 243 COLLOQUY XV. The Conclusion 314 APPENDIX . 335 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS 357 DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE PLATES. VOL. II. Crosth%vaite Church and Skiddaw Frontispiece. Thralkeld Tarn to face page &b Greta Hall, Derwentwater, and Newlands 150 ON THE PROGRESS AND PROSPECTS OP SOCIETY. COLLOQUY XL INFIDELITY.— CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. MONTESINOS. Your last words, Sir Thomas, have left a weight upon my mind. Nothing but religion, you said, can preserve our social system from pu- trescence and dissolution. This I entirely be- lieve; and therefore a melancholy and fearful apprehension comes over me when I contem- plate the present state of the Christian world. Throughout Papal Christendom there has been substituted for Christianity a mass of corrup- tions which nauseates the understanding, and at which the reasonable heart revolts. And in reformed countries I see the Church abroad, for the most part, starved by the government, and betrayed by the clergy; and, at home, VOL. II. B ^ INFIDELITY. assailed by greater danger than lias at any time threatened it since the accession of Elizabeth, when this nation was delivered from bondage. In comparing the age of Luther with the pre- sent times, this great difference is to be ob- served, that Infidelity, which was rife enough during the former period, kept safely then under the wing of the Romish Church, and ex- erted itself to uphold the system of imposture with which it had coalesced, and by which it flourished. It is strong enough now to claim supremacy, and to struggle for it. At that time it consisted simply in the disbelief of re- ligion ; it now implies the hatred of it ; and, while it is vehemently engaged against Popery on the continent, acts in alliance with Popery, with equal vehemence, against the ecclesiastical Establishment here. SIR THOMAS MORE. The difference is worthy of consideration, and its causes are easily to be traced. All men of learning in those days were, with very few exceptions, either monks or clergy ; and they were not so many but that the Church and the Monasteries could provide for all. You have a numerous and rapidly increasing class of literary men, and a still more numerous one of persons who take their opinions from them with as im- INFIDELITY. 3 plicit a faith, and as mucli prostration of intel- lect, as the simplest peasant exhibits to the wiliest priest. That a little learning is dan- gerous, is true enough to have passed into a pro- verb ; it is not less true that a very little suffices for the stock in trade upon which the scribes and scriveners of literature, who take upon them- selves to direct the public, set up. Better edu- cation, humbler minds, sounder intellects, hap- pier dispositions, nay, even a more fortunate position in society, might have enabled them to perceive the truth of religion, and to understand its paramount importance to the human race, to the community of which they form a part, and to their own happiness, temporal as well as eternal. MONTESINOS. Of too many of them, indeed, may it be said, that 116* dubitare quidem sckint, qidbiis omnia con- temner e ac nescire satis est. SIR THOMAS MORE. Ignorance upon that subject is not to be ad- mitted as an excuse f, or palliation, for those * D. Heinsius, in the letter in which he gives an account of Scaliger's death. t ' As far as ignorance itself is excusable,' says Dean Sher- lock, ' so far ignorance will excuse. But commonly igno- ' ranee itself is a great crime; and, when it is so, if men shall B 2 4 INFIDELITY. who have had the means and the opportunity of knowledge. MONTESIXOS. Lawyers have laid down that maxim without any qualification. But the ways of God are more merciful than those of man. He who falls into the water has the natural means for saving his life ; but, if he has never been taught to exercise his limbs in swimmino- he sinks and perishes. Surely this is his misfortune, not his crime ! SIR THOMAS MORE. In what manner is this illustration intended to serve? MONTESIXOS. I would apply it to show, that there are cir- cumstances which may be admitted in palliation or excuse for neglecting the means and oppor- tunities of knowledge. SIR THOMAS MORE. We are speaking of that knowledge whereby men are rendered wise unto salvation. Let not the evil heart of unbelief tempt you to presume that the means of this kno\vled<2,'e can be neo-- ' not be judged for llie sins wliicli they ignorantly commit, ' yet they sliall be judged and condemned lor their ignorance, ' as well as for their sins against knowledge.' — On Judgement^ p. 307. INFIDELITY. O lected -with impunity ! The condition of men in this world, however wisely and virtuously they may act, must depend, in no slight degree, upon the conduct of others, upon circumstances, and the chances of society. But their condi- tion in a future state, their everlasting welfare, depends wholly on themselves ; no chances, no circumstances, no misconduct on the part of others can deprive them of eternal happiness, if they are true to themselves, and reject not the proffered means of salvation. MONTESINOS. Alas, that it should be so difficult for them to believe* and love ! I know not which should be regarded as the worst enemies of their fellow- creatures, they who mislead and abuse our faith, or they who labour with pestilent activity to destroy it. Yet, perhaps, more evil is brought about by indirect causes than by immediate ones; and the ways of the world have greater influence than the efforts of fanaticism and false philo- sophy, in producing superstition and misbelief * ' Let tliis meditation,' says Jackson, ' never slip out of ' thy memory ; that seeing the last and principal end of all ' graces bestowed upon us in this life, is rightly to believe in ' Christ, this cannot be, as the drowsy worldling dreams, the ' easiest, but rather the most difficult point of Christianity.' — Vol. i. p. 780. 6 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. on one hand, and unbelief on the other. The religious culture of the mind is neglected in youth, when its intellectual advancement in other respects receives most attention ; and no sooner have we attained to manhood, than we are de- voted to some branch or other of ' that cold business,' in which, as Ben Jonson says, ' a man misspends the better part of life.' Care then cankers the heart, or prosperity corrupts it ; the fever of ambition seizes us, or we fall into the morbus fatims of the worldly wise ; and practical irreligion is thus produced even in those who escape the malaria of infidelity. SIR THOMAS MORE. Religious education, you say, is neglected. Where does that sin of omission rest,, .with the people, or with the clergy ? Is it a defect in the institutions, or a fault in the customs of the country ? MONTESINOS. All have their share in it, ill customs, defec- tive institutions, . .the clergy, who neglect their duty in this particular, . . and the parents, who leave undone what it is in their power to do. To them, however, the least part of the omission is imputable ; few mothers failing to instruct their children as far as their own capabilities of instructing extend. But it is one of the evils of RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 7 our schools, public and private, that the habits of devotion which a boy learns at his mother's ' knees are broken there, and the seeds of early- piety destroyed. SIR THOMAS MORE. It has come to pass, then, in the changes of society, that the very institutions which in their origin were purely religious seminaries, are now the places where religion may, in a certain sense, be said to be unlearnt ! MONTESINOS. To keep up so much of the practice of piety, as is essential for the life and reality of religion, there must be social worship and solitary prayer. For the latter there is no opportunity at school, how- ever much the boy himself may desire to observe a custom, the importance of which he has duly been taught to apprehend. But it is impossible for him to do this in a common dormitory, or even when other boys are lodged in the same chamber. Few parents seem to be sensible of this evil, though it may prove more deeply in- jurious in its consequences than any other mis- chief which may be deemed incidental to public education. SIR THOMAS MORE. The use of dormitories was continued from the old establishments ; but the perpetual super- 8 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. intendence, which made a part of the conventual system, was withdrawn. The evil is to be re- medied by allotting to each his separate chamber, and introducing just so much superintendence as may secure its privacy. MONTESIXOS. There may be too much superintendence, as well as too little ; but this remedy would go far towards putting an end to the tyranny exercised by the senior boys, which is the worst evil that the want of superintendence has produced. There would be more difficulty in making social wor- ship retain, or rather resume, its proper character and uses ; the effect at present, both at schools and universities, being to deaden the instinct of piety, instead of cherishing and maturing it. Here we have a difficulty which had no existence in days when monasteries were the only semi- naries of learning. SIR THOMAS MORE. The pupils in such establishments saw that the practice, or at least the profession, of reli- gion, was the main business of life for those under whose tuition they were placed, or by whom they were surrounded. Moreover, it was the service in which they had enlisted, and to the higher grades of which they were looking on ; by it they were to be elevated in society, RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 9 and it was the only means of elevation for those who were not of noble birth ; by it they were to obtain, at all events, security in an insecure age, subsistence, respectability, ease and com- fort : wealth and luxury were accessible to their desires ; if ambition inclined that way, the highest earthly dignities entered into their pro- spect ; if it took a loftier direction, the higher honours of altars and images might be reserved for them at last. Here, then, everything tended to make them feel the temporal and spiritual importance of religion. If their minds were not impressed by the ceremonials of a splendid ritual, they were at least engaged in it; there was something to occupy them, . . something for the eye and the imagination. Should the heart remain unaffected, it was, nevertheless, entertained in a state which made it apt to re- ceive devout impressions, and open to their in- fluences. You threw away your crutches too soon, mistaking the excitement of that fervour, which the religious revolution called forth, for confirmed and healthy strength. Now, when the excitement has worn itself out, a stage of languor has succeeded, which has a dangerous tendency to terminate in torpor and indifference. But this is an unnatural state of mind, for man is a religious creature, and it is among those 10 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. who seek to escape from it, that superstition finds an eager demand for its opiates, or enthu- siasm for its cordial elixirs. MONTESINOS. I have smiled at seeing- little angels on horse- back parading- in honour of some Nossa Senhora of the thousand appellations. But these puppet- shows of Popery have their use. SIR THOMAS MORE. And the puppets also ; or that part of Pa- ganism would never have been taken into the ceremonials of a Priesthood which has possessed, in full perfection, the wisdom* of this world ! It is for a better wisdom to separate the help- ful from the hurtful ; to reject whatever is incon- sistent with pure and undefiled religion, and to retain all that may assist in winning the heart to its service. MONTESINOS. What the Romanists succeed in doing by the worship of Saints and Angels, and by their Marian religion, is effected by purer means in those parts of Europe where the Reformed * A modern historian talks of ' that ignora7ice of mankind ' which Priests usually display !' As if any other class of men ever had, or could have, from the nature of their functions, half so much knowledge of human nature ! RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. H Church still lays ' the strong hand of her purity*' upon her children. It is thus in Scotland, wherever manufactures and infidelity are not co-operating to corrupt the people. It is so in the better parts of Switzerland, where the clergy have not betrayed their trust. The youth of both sexes there, when they have arrived at years of discretion, receive a regular and care- ful course of religious education, for which the state provides : early tuition has prepared them for this, . . and the effects of this intellectual con- firmation are seen in their conduct through life. They are made to understand the grounds and foundation of their belief. They are trained up " in the way that they should go, and their feet depart not from it. SIR THOMAS MORE. Wherefore is it not so with you ? MONTESINOS. That it is not may be explained, but not ex- cused, by observing, that crowded societies are ^ less favourable to morals, and to piety, upon which morals must be established, than simpler and smaller communities ; but they afford full opportunities for irreligion on one hand, and for the contagious influences of enthusiasm and * Wordsworth. 12 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. bigotry on the other. There is the reason, also, that the State has made no provision for it ; an express provision, such as at this time exists in Switzerland, was not needed formerly ; and the instruction which Sunday-schools can afford is discontinued at an earlier age than that at which the Swiss course of confirmation (as it may be called) begins. But even primary instruction is insufficiently supplied. The in- crease of population, while the Church Esta- blishment has remained as the Reformation left it, renders it impossible for the clergymen to perform the business of a catechist, except in small parishes ; and the course of domestic in- struction is broken by the custom, long since general in the middle and higher classes, of sending boys to school. But nowhere is a boy in so ill a disposition to receive religious lessons as at school, and perhaps nowhere are lessons so ill taught. My old master. Dr. Vincent, endeavoured to repel this charge, as it affects public schools, when it was brought against them some five-and-twenty years ago by Dr. Renncll. He took up the argument with natural feeling, and becoming warmth, in defence of an establishment with which he had been so long and so honourably connected, and he wrote, as he always did, vigorously and well. But the RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 18 case failed him ; lie could only show tliat books of cateclietical instruction were used in the school, that Scriptural exercises made a part of the course, and that theological lectures were read to the King's scholars. So far is well ; there is no fault of omission here, and what is done is performed as well as it there can be. It is true, also, that the school is always opened and prorogued with a short prayer, and that in the boarding houses prayers are read every night by the head boy of the house ; . . but performed as this is, and necessarily must be, it were better left undone. And Vincent did not reflect on the effect of compulsory attendance at divine service, at times when the service is merely per- functory, and under circumstances which render attention to the duties of the place, at all times, impossible. Public worship is never presented in so unattractive, . . almost, I might say, in so irreligious a form^ . . as it is to schoolboys. Now, though we are, as you have justly said, religious creatures, (and it is the noblest dis- tinction of human nature that we are so,) youth is not the season of life in which the develop- ment of our religious instinct naturally takes place ; in boyhood it must be awakened, and requires to be kept up by continual culture. Habitual irreverence soon deadens, even if it 14 INFIDELITY. does not destroy it; but habitual irreverence is what is learnt at school, and certainly not un- learnt at college. A distaste is thus acquired for public worship, . . not to say a dislike for it ; and young men, when they become their own masters, cease to frequent church, because they have been so long compelled to attend its ser- vice in an unfit state of mind. SIR THOMAS MORE. Such absentees are, probably, more easily made Dissenters, than they can be brought back to the fold which they have once forsaken. MONTESINOS. Men who have received this higher education, seldom enter into the ranks of dissent; their connexions in life are rarely such as would lead them towards the meeting-house. A few be- come Socinians ; and perhaps there are more who pass from cold indifference to a feverish state of what may better be called religiosity than religion, for little charity can be perceived in it, and less humility. Professional engage- ments bring back a greater number into the right way, and keep them there. Others are restored by the gentle and natural effects of time, or the sharper discipline of affliction, which teaches them where to find the only source of comfort, the only balm for a wounded heart, INFIDELITY. 15 the only rest for an immortal spirit. But too many fall into habits of practical irreligion, and, according as there may be more or less of vanity and presumptuousness in their disposition, be- come the proselytes or the propagandists of speculative impiety. Even while the Jews were living under a visible dispensation, and before the Glory had departed from the Temple, fools were to be found among them, who said in their heart, there is no God. Much more may this worst and deadliest infatuation be expected to show itself in these latter times, when so great a part of mankind live as if there were none, and when the ways of the world, its pursuits and its* pleasures, its follies, and, .. Heaven help * I would not, however, be understood as if assenting to Paley's assertion, tliat ' the world, even in its innocent pur- ' suits and pleasures, has a tendency unfavourable to the ' religious sentiment.' (Sermon I.) Surely this is not the case with its innocent pleasures, some of which directly induce devotional feelings ! St. Pierre has a pretty story which is applicable here. ' Un jour, jni de me.s amis fid voir un Chartreux ; cetoit ' ail mois de Mai. Le jardin du solitaire etoit convert de '' Jiexirs dans les plates-bandes ei sitr les espaliers. Pour lui, ' il s etoit renfe.rme dans sa chambre, ou Von ne voyoit goutte. ' Pourquoi, lui dit mon ami, avez-vous ferme vos volets ? * C'est, lui repondit le Chartreux, ajin de mediter sans dis- • traction sur les attributs de Dieu. Eh ! pensez-vous, reprit ' mon ami, en trouver de plus grands dans voire tele, que ne 16 INFIDELITY. US ! . . its philosophies, have interposed an at- mosphere of darkness palpable between us and the light of His presence, though in that light only is there life ! SIR THOMAS MORE. Is the proportion of those who are thus dwel- ling in darkness and in the shadow of death, as great among you, as it is in the countries where the Romish Church has maintained its do- minion ? MONTESINOS. The classes among whom infidelity prevails, are different. In the most unbelieving of Romish countries the lower orders believe whatever the priest tells them : . . utterly as they may disregard his moral precepts, and habitually as they may break every injunction in the decalogue, they never doubt the efficacy of his absolution, nor the saving mercy of the Magna Mater. Population has not increased there as it has with us ; it has not outgrown the means of religious instruction, such as that instruction is. But we have a nu- merous class of people, which is scarcely known in any other part of Europe, bred in the filth and * vovs en monlre. la nature an mois de mai? Croyez-inoi, ' ouvrez vos volets, el fcrmez voire imagination.' — Harmonies de la Nature, t. i. p. 332. INFIDELITY. 1 7 corruption of large towns and manufacturing dis- tricts, and allowed to grow up in that corruption as much neglected, and consequently becoming as depraved, as the vagrants of former times, against whom so many, and such severe laws, were enacted. These people are unbelievers, just as savages are, . . (shame to us that they should be so !) because, as far as regards all moral culture, all needful instruction, all human- izing and redeeming influences, they are left like savages, in the very midst of cultivated society. Bad as the consequences of this most culpable omission on the part of Government have been, and continue to be, they must have been far more hideous and appalling if Methodism had not intervened, and carried with it humanity and civilization, as far as it has spread, among these poor perishing creatures. Here, then, the differ- ence between England and other countries is to our disadvantage and disgrace. If w^e look to the classes next above these, we shall find that speculative infidelity has descended lower among us than it has done where the arrangements of society are less complicated and artificial. There is no other country, France alone excepted, in which the poison is openly prepared for the people. There, indeed, the writings of Voltaire are circulated with as much zeal by one party, VOL. II. c IB INFIDELITY. as the lying and blasphemous legends of a frau- dulent superstition are by another ; but if the former party are more successful in the metro- polis and in large towns, the propogandists of the Monkish and Marian* religion have greater facilities for distributing their wares throughout the provinces ; and none of that mischief is even attempted there which is carried on throughout these kingdoms by periodical publications, daily, weekly, monthly, and quarterly, and by some or other of these introduced into the remotest parts of the country. There are few towns, however small, in which a knot of scoffers and infidels may not be found in the lower walks of life, disciples usually of. some sharp-witted, ready- tongued, and coarse-minded unbeliever, who has cast off the restraints of duty, and is too ignorant even to suspect himself of any deficiency in knowledge. There is scarcely a village into which opinions hostile to the Church Establish- ment, and to Christianity itself, are not carried, in the former case insolently, in the latter with 4 more or less disguise, to the alehouse fireside, * I thank the Jesuits ' for teacliiiig me tliat word.' (Ma- cedo. Divi Tutelarcs, p. 75.) Fr. Wichmans (a Norbortine, or Premontren, Canon of Tongcrloo) addresses liis Brabantia Mariana, Lectori Mariano, ..a. most useful distinction tliis between the Christian and the Marian faitli ! INFIDELITY. 19 by some provincial journal, professedly enlisted in the service of a political faction, but aiming directly at this end. Moreover, there are London booksellers w^ho carry on a trade in blasphemy, and their productions, which are as ignorant as they are impious, are dispersed gratuitously. I have heard of instances in which country tradesmen have received them with their goods ; should they be addressed to a person of good principles, who resents such an importation, the plea is, that they had been made use of as waste paper, without any knowledge of their contents ; but the desired object is gained if, as is more likely, they fall into the hands of shop- men, or shopboys, who are in a state to receive the infection. Whence the funds are derived for this distribution, and for supporting the fre- quent prosecutions which have been brought against the publishers and venders of such poi- sons, has not come to light : but there are amateurs of infidelity in high life ; this is one of the ways in which superfluous wealth has been misemployed, and in no way can its misapplica- tion have produced more misery and evil. SIR THOMAS MORE. Misery and evil, indeed, for those who are taken in the snare, . . and for those who spread it ; for woe to them by whom the offence cometh ! c 2 20 INFIDELITY, But it is not thus that a nation can be made irrelio-ious. Relig-ion is too natural a feelins:, too essential to the being-, too necessary for the heart of man, for its general influence to be sus- pended, or even endangered by such means, so lono- as it shall be seen and known to exist in any part of the community as a living and actu- ating principle. And this it "vvill ever be in countries where it has once been firmly esta- blished, in however corrupt a form. Opinions may be changed, belief may be shaken, institu- tions modified or subverted, a false system may even prevail over the true ; but while men are subject to disease, infirmity, and affliction, and death, the good never will exist Avithout the hopes of religion, the wicked never without its fears. The vulgar retailers of infidelity can never shake this foundation. MOXTESIXOS. Alas ! for human nature, when those hopes and fears are no long-er under the reo'ulation of a reasonable faith ! When ho})e and fear break loose from that restraint, men become priest- ridden or devil-ridden, and yield themselves up to the horrors of tlie bloodiest Heathenism, or to the loathsome and pitiable extravagancies of tlie basest Monkery, as frightened horses plunge from INFIDELITY. 21 a precipice, or dash themselves headlong against whatever opposes their way. SIR THOMAS MORE. You, however, are in a state of society wherein the one of these extremes is impossible, the other not to be apprehended. MOXTESIXOS. Great and irreparable injury may, neverthe- less, be done. Even such miserable labourers loosen the cement of society, while the more skilful engineers of evil are sapping and mining, and preparing the train for an explosion. As yet, however, the mischief has not spread widely in this lower grade ; and it is precisely in that grade, also, that the counteracting spirit of fa- naticism operates with most effect : and although men pass, as may be expected, from one extreme to the other, it is generally, by God's mercy, to- ward the better that they gravitate at last. But, in the educated classes, the balance of religious feeling is as much in favour of England, when compared with Roman-Catholic countries, as it may seem to be against it in the inferior ones. True it is that young men, who have just entered upon manhood, if they have an ambitious pro- pensity for intellectual exercitation, and if the foundation has either been neglected or unwisely laid, pass commonly through a stage of scepti- 22 INFIDELITY. cism, or unbelief; presumptuous youth is as liable to it as childhood to the small-pox and measles ; the disease, too, is as rife and con- tagious as either, and sometimes draws after it injurious consequences, which long continue to be felt, sometimes lays fatal hold. True it is that there are circles where dogmatical Atheism struts and crows upon its dunghill ;. . that it has laid its eggs in seminaries founded for far other purposes, where its cockatrices are hatched and fostered, and from whence they come into the walks of life, hissing, wriggling, and venomous. True it is that there is an active and inHuential party in literature and in the state with whom blank unbelief is the esoteric doctrine, and who seek on all occasions industriously to wound and weaken what public opinion, and a regard to their own interest, withholds them from attack- ing openly. But the great and quiet body of the English gentry walk in the ways of their fathers, and hold fast to that Church for which Laud and his King suft'ered on the scaffold, and the noble army of our earlier martyrs at the stake. They hold to it with a sober and sedate, but sincere and strono- attachment. Even the Dissenters, who rise into this rank, seldom con- tinue in their nonconformity : their views are altered with their station ; they see and under- INFIDELITY. 23 stand what they had before precluded them- selves -from seeino- and understanding: : and if they do not become conformists themselves, suffer their children to become so. The same here- ditary and rooted feeling prevails among- the yeomanry of the land. Here, then, we have a strong' ground of hope and confidence on which to rest. But our strongest is in the Church itself, and in the character of its ministers. In Roman-Catholic states, and more especially in those which are most Catholic, and most Papal, infidelity is as common among the higher and better educated clergy, as the grossest super- stition is among those who are taken, with little education, from the lower order of the people. Among the clergy of the Church of England, there may be some who believe and tremble ; and a few, (they are but few,) who are false to the Establishment in which they are beneficed, and would let the wolf into the fold ; but, if there be an Infidel among them, it is known only to that Almighty and Most Merciful Father to whom all hearts are open, and from whom no secrets are hid. Such a man may live self- reproached, but his want of belief will never infect others, . . it will be a hidden wound,. . quod proxima nesciat uxor. 24 INFIDELITY, SIR THOMAS MORE. The heart of England then, in this respect, is sound ! MONTESINOS. An unbelieving clergyman would be regarded as a monster. And, as this is one of the heal- thiest symptoms of public feeling, so is it one of the most remarkable points of difference between the state of the English and of the Romish Church. For in Roman-Catholic countries, even where the Inquisition is established, the Infidel Priest may always have a circle as well among his own brethren, as the laity, wherein he would think it a reproach were he supposed to believe in the religion which he professes. In that circle his understanding would be impeached by such a supposition : but it is no impeachment of his integrity that he continues publicly to profess what the laws will not permit him to abjure. He must go on with his part in the drama of delu- sion ; or he must cast himself upon the world a voluntary exile, exposed to all the privations and miseries of that condition ; or he must remain, and suffer martyrdom : and how should he be expected to bear this testimony against falsehood, who is ready with Pilate to ask, ' What is truth?' being, like Pilate, in that pitiable state of mind which conceives that no answer can be given ROMISH INFIDELITY, 25 to tlie question ! One fatal error, which is most carefully inculcated, keeps its hold upon him, when he has shaken off the authority of his Church in other respects ; he still supposes Christianity to be such as that Church in its dogmas and rituals represents it ; in no other form has it ever been presented to his consider- ation, and he never thinks of turning from the mythology of the Breviary to the religion of the Gospel. Meantime, the exercise of his office tends to confirm him in his unbelief. He is engaged in functions which, when performed by one who does not implicity believe himself to be invested with the portentous attributes which he assumes, must sear the conscience, and far- ther indurate the already hardened heart. He performs the daily routine of a service, in which, indeed, there is much that in itself is good, but in which it is not less certainly true, that folly and imposture stare him in the face ; he sees the weakness of human nature, and too much of its wickedness, also, is laid open to him ; till, learning at last to congratulate himself that his lot in life has been assigned among knaves in- stead of dupes, (for into these classes it is that he divides mankind,) he says complacently, ' popidus milt decipi et dcciinetiir,' . . as so many of his fraternity have said before him, and so 26 ROMISH INFIDELITY. many say with him at this day. Let it not be supposed that men cannot attain to this fearful state without a strong- predominance of evil in their nature ! Such persons may have, and are likely to have better dispositions, as well .as better understandings, than those who, being found unfit for any other branch of ecclesiastical service, are, for that reason, destined* to preside over matters of faith as members of the Holy Office ! The more selfish sensualists, the tho- roughly profligate, the sollicitantes, are as likely to be found among those Priests who trust in the validity of absolution, and expect to buy themselves ofl' from Purgatory, or at the worst to be prayed out of it in some reasonable time, as among those who doubt of every thing beyond the grave, and standing in no awe of judgement to come, trouble themselves with no devices * Tliat this was the case in the Spanish Universities we learn from Dr. Villanucva. ' Era voz comun e/itotices (he is ' speaking of the reign of Charles III.) que para los mas ' hahiles de aqnellos colegios (que cierlamente los hubo) eran, ' por lo general las 7nUras, y las dignidades y canongias, ' especialmciite las de q/icio: y en el orden civil las logas de ' las audiencias, chancillerias y consejos supremos ; y para ' los incplos las plazas de Inquisicion ; d cuyo propSsilo se ' decia con escandalo, y lo oi yo muchas veces, proestet fides ' supplementum.' — Vida Liieraria de D. Joaquin Lorenzo Villanueva, t. i. p. 11. ROMISH INFIDELITY. 27 for eludino- it. Ministers of the Romish Church, though they be persons of natural piety, good feelings, and virtuous aspirations, may fall into the state of infidelity which I have described ; and such in melancholy truth were they who are present to my thoughts while I speak, . . for the picture has been taken from reality : . . men far above the standard of their countrymen ; richly gifted with moral not less than intellec- tual endowments ; just, generous, high-minded, and gentle-hearted ; respected and admired and loved by all around them, but most so by those who knew them best ; men who, in more favour- able circumstances, might have been the pride of their country, and the benefactors of their kind, as they were the ornament, and the de- light of the circle in which they moved ; but who have perished miserably, and guiltily, in revolutionary movements, . . because the root of religion was wanting in them, and they ventured to do evil in the hope that good might follow. God be merciful to them, for His dear Son's sake ! I will not think that the sin of rejecting Him can be laid to their charge, for in truth they knew Him not I They ' did it ignorantly, in unbelief* !' * 1 Tim. i. 13. 28 ENGLISH CLERGY. But these painful recollections have drawn me from the point. . . Let us contrast without re- ference to any such catastrophe, the situation of a Romish Priest thus gifted, and thus dis- posed, with that of a young man who has entered into holy orders in the English Church, not so much from any predilection of his own, as in conformity to the destination which has been chosen for him, and because preferment is within his reach, or his prospect ; . . let us suppose him to be one who has not paid more attention to the evidences and doctrines of Chris- tianity, than was required for passing an easy examination ; and who, from vanity, half-know- ledge, presumptuousness, and love of display, might very probably, if he had followed any other profession, have run, with all sails set, upon the shallows of infidelity. Have I taken a fair case ? SIR THOMAS MOllE. Certainly not too favourable a one on your own side. MONTESINOS. Such a man, however unspiritual, however unworthy the motives which have influenced his choice, places himself, nevertheless, in a situa- tion favourable to liis mental and spiritual im- provement. His profession imposes upon him ENGLISH CLERGY. 29 just SO much restraint as is salutary for his moral and intellectual nature, nothing- more ; nothing- against which the heart rises, or the understand- ing- revolts. The discharge of his functions tends to strengthen, to stablish, and to quicken his belief, not to shake, or torpify it. The service which he is called upon to perform deals not in legends which, beyond all possibility of dissembling to himself the conviction, he feels and knows to be absurd and false. Instead of these, he delivers in our fine liturgy the doc- trines of Christianity pui-e and undefiled ; its proofs are before him in the Bible, opening more and more upon the willing mind, the more it is perused ; it is a regular part of his office to enforce its precepts, and in so doing he cannot but become sensible of their unspeakable im- portance. He is not requested to act in any thing which he suspects or knows to be a juggle, such as the exhibition of relics, the worship of wonder-working images, and the performance of miracles. He is not exposed to the pollutions of the Confessional. His professional library is neither filled with extravagant and impious fictions, which he is required to believe, and in the service of the Church must deliver to the people for imdoubted and sacred truths ; nor of books of casuistry, which sophisticate the 30 ENGLISH CLERGY. understanding and defile the heart ; nor of rhap- sodies of idolatrous and carnal devotion : instead of these he has the works of our English divines, who, with erudition and philosophy, and elo- quence, which have not been, and cannot be, surpassed, vindicate the authority of Scripture, expound its truths, and apply its all-important doctrines. All circumstances thus contribute to render him a sincere and faithful minister, even though his first profession should have been merely formal. Once embarked, he is borne along upon the main stream of belief; there are neither rocks, shoals, nor rapids in his course, no side eddies which may hurry him back, no whirlpools wherein he may be absorbed and lost. SIR THOMAS MORE. You have taken for your comparison on the one side men of superior and ambitious talents, and on the other, persons who, possessing fair abilities and easy tempers, may with little diffi- culty be inclined to good or evil, but escape evil because they are not led into temptation. And you argue that the latter, if they were Roman Catholic Priests, would not fall into the same happy and facile belief; and that the former would not be exposed to the same danger of in- fidelity in the Anglican as in the Papal Church. ENGLISH CLERGY. 31 MONTESINOS. I argue thus upon assumptions wliicli, were it required, I am prepared by fair reasoning to prove, that the circumstances of the English Church are likely to confirm and invigorate the belief of its ministers ; but that in the Romish, the heart instinctively revolts against the unna- tural privations which are imposed upon it, and the understanding against the gross and tan- gible falsehoods with which the doctrine and practice of that Church are so intermingled and overlaid, that religion is represented in the garb of mythology, and truth itself wears the sem- blance of imposture. SIR THOMAS MORE. I am not disposed to call in question either of these assumptions. But you present your Anglican Clergyman as a contrast to the Infidel Romanist, not as a representative likeness of his brethren. Is he above or below the general standard ? MONTESINOS. I know not in what manner the mean stan- dard could be computed : the character which I have imagined is a common one. Undoubt- edly there are many, very many, far above it in intellectual, moral, and spiritual qualifications ; 32 ENGLISH CLERGY. but too surely those who fall below it are likely to be more numerous. SIR THOMAS MORE. Too surely they must be so. For it is not possible that men, properly qualified by educa- tion and manners, should be found for starved benefices ; nor likely that the proper qualifica- tions of heart and understandino- should o-ene- rally be possessed by persons who are destined for the priesthood, merely because in that pro- fession they may with most facility be advan- tageously settled in life. In the former class, coarse, and sometimes scandalous, livers will, of necessity, be found : among- the latter there must be not a few, who, though they may avoid open scandal, are more likely to find the Esta- blishment serviceable to them, than to render service to the Establishment. The latter in- convenience belongs to the system of patronage, and may be remedied so far as Government may be convinced that it is its policy, and in- dividuals that it is their duty, to dispose of it witli a righteous regard to character. There is an awful responsibility upon both ! This is less likely to be felt by Government, because, thougli bodies of men have a general sense of honour, they have no general sense of conscience. They may, however, be made to understand their in- CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. 33 terest ; blind indeed must they be, if in this matter they do not distinctly see it ! But where will you find a remedy for the inconvenience which the impoverishment of the Church pro- duces? ' Ad tenuitatem Beneficiorum necessarid ' sequitiir ignorantia Sacerdotum.'' And long be- fore he who is called the Panormitan wrote thus, it was remarked by a Roman Satirist, that po- verty brings with it nothing harder for men to endure than the contempt to which it rendei's them subject. MOXTESINOS. Undoubtedly this was the principal cause of that contempt into which the Clergy had fallen in the days of Eachard and Stackhouse ; and it is at this day one great and never-failing cause of the increase of Methodism, and of the various Dissenting sects. Wherever there is a worldling, who takes no other care of his flock than to look after the wool at shearing time, . . wherever the shepherd neglects his charge, or is incompetent to it, . . wherever the charge is greater than even the best will, and the utmost exertions can per- form, there the Dissenter, or the Methodist, steps in. A wide field of opportunity is thus opened to them in those parishes, scattered throuohout the land, which are in the hands of unworthy, or inefticient incumbents, . .and in all those exten- » VOL. 11. D 34 CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. sive districts, where mines or riianufactures have brought together a swarming population. SIR THOMAS MORE. Mark here how curiously opposite causes are operating alike to the detriment and danger of your Church Establishment ! Both its wealth and its poverty bring into it persons who want either the natural fitness, or the acquirements necessary for the proper discharge of their duty. Its wealth exposes it to envy and rapaciousness ; its poverty to contempt. Against envy and ra- paciousness it were unreasonable to expect that any reasoning should avail. They who hate the Church will seek to destroy it ; and erring con- science makes this the duty of all those who conscientiously dissent from it : and should your Government in a season of financial difficulty be under the direction of illprincipled politicians, or unprincipled ones, a compromise with its ene- mies might be apprehended. But this evil (in its certain consequences the worst that could befall the nation, for it woidd bring down, as with an earthquake, the whole fabric of your prosperity). . .this evil never can be brought to pass, even with all the eiforts which are con- tinually making for that wicked end, and all the causes whicli unhappily facilitate and assist them, . .if the people are made sensible that there CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. 35 is no property so beneficially distributed for the general good as that which, by the wisdom not less than the piety of their forefathers, was set apart to be a provision for the ministers of the altar. The English are a sober people. MONTESINOS. Charles I. bore testimony to that part of their character, at a time when they were most infa- tuated. But error has ever an easier access to the mind than truth, when it addresses itself to the weak and selfish and corrupt part of human nature. Let any person in the middle ranks of life, who knows anything of his ancestry for two or three generations, ask himself what benefit they have derived, and he himself in conse- quence, from so much of the church property as may have fallen to their portion in its service ; and then let him calculate whether he and they would have been gainers, even in this low, pounds-shillings-and-pence point of view, if there had been no such charge upon the land as that of tithes ! Let any parent, who has a diligent and hopeful son at school or at college, ask himself whether the youth's chance in life would be as good as it is, if the Church lands were secular- ized, if tithes were abolished and the clergy left, like the Dissenting ministers, to depend upon their congregations ?.. And if we had Dukes of D 2 36 CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. Durliam and Winchester, instead of Bishops, would the lands attached to the title be more productive, or the tenants sit at easier rents ? Should it not, on the other hand, seem as evi- dent as it is certain, that every one is interested in upholding an establishment by means of which some of the public wealth is set apart to be dis- posed of, not by the accident of birth, but among those who may deserve it by their learning, their abilities, and their character ; and that, too, under the notorious condition, that without character neither learning nor abilities, however eminent, will be reofarded as a claim ? . . a distribution whereby no man has been, is, or can be injured, while some scores of individuals in every gene- ration are raised by it to stations of dignity, and some hundreds of families placed in respectabi- lity and comfort ? And yet the wealth of the Church, which, when thus regarded, might be thought necessarily to secure it, by connecting its preservation with tlie plain, tangible interest of every household, from the highest to the lowest, is, on the contrary, a cause of danger at this time, because men will not thus reasonably regard it. Already voices are heard in Parlia- ment recommending a second spoliation ! A ge- neration ago, if any man had ventured to utter in cither House the unprotestant, unchristian, un- CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. 37 English wisli, the g-eneral feeling would have put him down, and that with a force from which he would not easily have risen again : now, he is heard with applause by one party, and too often without rebuke from those who ought to know that such opinions should never be allowed to pass unrebuked, because, if they are unanswered, they are represented to be unanswerable. Com- binations are formed for ridding the land of what Political Economists call the burden of the tithes. Mr. Pitt, among his other errors, gave ear to this, and at one time entertained an intention of selling them. Men with worse intentions, and no better judgement, will gladly avail themselves of his authority for promoting so injurious a measure. It may be looked to as one conse- quence which would follow upon the admission of the Roman-Catholics into Parliament. For in that case the Test Act must, of course, be abolished ; of course, I say, because the well- meaning but short-sighted men, by whose con- sent the fence had been broken to let the foxes in, would find it impossible afterwards to keep the wolves out. The Dissenters, who would then in a far greater proportion find their way into the House, would league there with the Unbelievers; and some of the Squirarchy, wlio are not lay-impropriators, might be duped into 6 4 '^ 2 2 38 CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. tlie alliance. The Romanists would faithfully follow the Vatican's old policy of promoting any- thing which should injure the Anglican Church. And by such a combination tlie tithes would be offered as a resource to some distressed admini- stration in difficult times, . .even if the Govern- ment should not have been previously delivered into the hands of what Johnson called our bot- tomless Whigs, . . Avhich it must be before a measure so full of mortal danger, so directly in opposition to the principles upon which the Pro- testant Succession was established, as that of admitting the Roman-Catholics into Parliament, and thereby investing men with power in the State, whose bounden religious duty it is to use every endeavour for re-establishing the Roman- Catholic Church in this kingdom, can possibly be effected. SIR THOMAS MORE. Take into the account of this danger that which in such a case would arise from the ex- istence of an increasing sect like the Methodists, with an embodied and efficient hierarchy, pro- fessing to hold the doctrines of the Establish- ment, and assenting to its ritual, and its whole discipline, saving only such parts as it suits their present convenience to dispense with. A minister of Thomas Cromwell's stamp, or one who, like CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. 39 Jane Seymour's brother, thinks such edifices as Glastonbury Abbey might beneficially be con- verted into manufactories, might make his bar- gain with a popular sect for undertaking the business of public religion at a reduced rate ; and he would take credit to himself when he laid the arrangement before Parliament, in his Budo-et, for a measure of economical reform. The desire of fame which is felt by such men ex- tends not beyond a nine days' popularity, . . and their foresight of consequences hardly reaches so far ! MOXTESINOS. Something of this kind took place in the great triumph of hypocrisy and fanaticism (always the most loving of allies) under the second and greater Cromwell ; or rather before he had taken into his hands the power, which, htid it lawfully been placed there, he, of all living men, was most worthy to have wielded. The treacherous Presbyterians, by whom the Church Establish- ment was betrayed, and who helped themselves liberally out of its spoils, made such an arrange- ment, set up the discipline and the Directory, and slew an Archbishop, as an acceptable sacri- fice to the Lord, upon their installation. The danger of which we speak seemed probable to me when I first began to look into the system of 40 CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. tlie Methodists ; but, upon further knowledge and reflection, methinks it is hardly to be con- sidered as among the contingencies of evil that await us. They appear to have attained the point beyond which they are not likely, in this country, to make any considerable advance, be- cause their sects and sub-sects intercept the recruits who would otherwise be added to the old body ; these will in like manner be again divided, carrying the principle of schism in their constitution, as grafts take with them the dis- eases of the parent stock : and any coalition among them is less likely, than the return of a respectable portion to the Establishment from which they have been led astray. The danger, if there be any of this kind, would rather be from the Calvinistic Methodists, and the Calvinizing Clergy, who spread themselves among more in- fluential classes, and who have already a party in the Church. But I do not regard this with any serious apprehension. For although many sects and parties would combine, and indeed have already combined, for the work of demo- lition, yet, when the plans for rebuilding came under consideration, the old disagreements be- tween them would break out more virulently than ever, and the confusion at Babel woidd be represented to the life. This is well understood CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. 41 by their allies, the Infidels and the Romanists, each of -which hope to have the field at last to themselves. But neither will the one succeed in their desire of destroying Christianity, nor the other in re-establishing the religion of St. Dominic and St. Dunstan. SIR THOMAS MORE. Whereon is this confidence founded which you so decidedly express ? MONTESINOS. On the promises and the providence of God. ' There are many devices in a man's heart ; ' nevertheless, the counsel of the Lord, that ' shall stand*.' SIR THOMAS MORE. But Providence works always by human means, giving or withholding its blessings ac- cording as the ways of men are good or evil. The best institutions will not support them- selves if they be vigorously attacked, and feebly defended : and with you, zeal and activity are on the erring side. Is it that they have not the same opportunities of entering the church, . . or not the same encouragement if they are found there ? * Proverbs xix. 21. 42 POOR SCHOLARS. MOXTESIKOS. The latter part of the question may be answered as I could wish. There is at this time greater encouraQ;ement than has been known since the accession of the House of Hanover, from which time, for full half a cen- tury, the interests of religion were scandalously disregarded. Now, though men are sometimes promoted undeservedly, desert, where it is found, is rarely left unrewarded. But, constituted as society at present is, there certainly is not the same access for zeal into the Establishment, which is offered in the ranks of its enemies. SIR THOMAS MORE. There is not, then, that encouragement for poor scholars which existed in former times ? not the same means of advancement which were open to the Wolseys and Cromwells and Latimers ? MOXTESINOS. For the Wolseys and Cromwells there are other, and more ways of advancement. But cheap learning is no longer to be obtained, edu- cation being, of all things, that which has ad- vanced most enormously in its cost. This has been caused by the great increase of the middle ranks, by the higher degree of civilization which POOR SCHOLARS. 43 exists in those ranks, and by the general im- provement in the condition of the clergy. The endowments in our schools and colleges, which were formerly the portion of poor scholars, have become objects of competition for the sons of the wealthy ; they were never too many, and the additions which have been made to them are so trifling that they can hardly be taken into calculation, while the number of competi- tors has increased tenfold, and is increasing every generation. The poor scholar is not ab- solutely excluded by this, but his chances are diminished ; and what is perhaps even more dis- couraging, the disadvantages of his situation are so greatly augmented, that nothing short of the most extraordinary abilities, and the most painful industry, can enable him to surmount them. These, indeed, make their way ; and as they are sure of meeting in the University the most liberal assistance, it is perhaps on the whole best that, in the present state of society, there should be no bounty for bringing forward aspirants of inferior capacity. SIR THOMAS MORE. So it may seem. But some evil there mani- festly is in a change which renders it more difficult for those who are humbly born, and placed in unfavourable circumstances, to follow 44 POOR SCHOLARS. those studies whereto good parts, virtuous in- clinations, and laudable ambition, might impel them. It is no matter for regret that such persons should labour under the inevitable disad- vantage of receiving, at the best, only an ordinary- school education, •while the sons of the opulent are brought forward by the most skilful and diligent tuition. Wealth ensures this for its children : and it is well, on all accounts, that some part of the expenditure of the wealthy, should take this direction ; and, after all, native vigour of mind will prevail against such odds. Forced culture is not needful for our elms and oaks; they require only room for their growth. And as natural precocity is always to be re- garded with fear, so the precociousness which art produces cannot be without its dangers : the first frequently terminates in early death ; the latter dwarfs, or lastingly debilitates the faculties which have been called into exertion too soon, and heive been overtasked. But are there no other disadvantages of a more serious nature? Is the poor scholar upon the same foot- ing in your colleges that he was one or two hundred years ago ? Have not officers become servile, both in reality and in appearance, Avliich carried witli them no sucli character in old times, when they were performed in great houses POOR SCHOLARS. 45 by youths of higli birth, in the course of a generous education, suited to their birth and ex- pectancies ? Is not inferiority of condition in your Universities made more humiliatino- than it was in times when the distinction of ranks was more broadly marked ; . . and is not that humiliation of a kind which is likely to produce anything rather than humility? As those distinctions have been more shaded into each other, has there not been less bountiful patronage on the one side, and less of the kindly and grateful feeling of dependence on the other ? ... for a kindly and a grateful feeling it is ; and they who think that it is well exchanged for the pride of in- dependence, are in danger of losing the bles- sing which has been promised to the poor in spirit, and to the meek. One consequence of all this is, that the Dissenting ministry is filled with men, the greater part of whom would have become clero-y of the Establishment, if there had been the same facilities for enter- ing it. MOXTESIXOS. Certainly it is not the desire of independence* * I happened once to ask a Dissenting minister to what de- nomination he belonged ; he replied, tliat lie was an Inde- pendent ; . . ' so called,' he added, ' tliough we are the most ' dependent j^oor creatures on the face of the earth,'.. The 46 POOR SCHOLARS. that leads them into that service. Their minis- try, however, has its temptations ; for although the Dissenters can rid themselves easily of a scandalous preacher, and therefore are obnoxious to none of that reproach which such men bring upon the Church, on the other hand, Tartuffe is a much more frequent character among them than in the Establishment. In Romish countries, as in your days, such persons would have be- come Monks or Friars, both the devout and the worldlings. SIR THOMAS MORE. The circumstances, which exclude the better part of them from your Establishment, have produced a great and growing evil, and too probably it may be found a growing danger also. They have likewise led to a change in the Universities which is far from beneficial, and which has, in no slight degree, contributed confession accords with the following Advertisement, which has been circulated with a recent number of the Evangelical Magazine. ' Wanted, two Persons, respectably connected, ' of j^leasing manners and genteel address, to beg for a Cliapel, ' the Minister of which is indisposed. One must be resident ' in London; and the other, if single, and a Minister, would be ' j)referred. Of course none will apply who cannot bring the ' highest testimonials for religious character, &c., and give * security, if required.' UNIVERSITIES. 47 to the decay of that sound learning* by which your Church was raised and defended, and with- out which it cannot be supported. Your Col- leges are no longer seats of learning in the old and veritable sense; no longer the abode of men whose lives are devoted to the c|uiet pur- suit of knowledge, and who find in that pursuit its own reward. They have become mere semi- naries, . . and for raising dwarf trees. Habits of life, more accordant to the age than to the place, have been introduced, habits which are injurious anywhere, and especially reprehen- sible there. Hence that increased expenditure, which in so great a degree excludes the poor scholar from his chance of those endowments which were intended for men of his class. Hence the greater evil, that no sooner has a young man completed his own scholastic education, and ob- tained a fellowship at its close, than his whole time is immediately appropriated to the education of others. At an age when his faculties, with the strength of manhood, have, or ought to have, the unabated ardour of youth, a stop is put to his advancement. The spirit of the world has intruded, and taken possession of the place ; in obedience to that spirit, he makes lucre, in- stead of learning, his object, his business, his desire ; giving himself up to the drudgery of tui- 48 LEARNING. tion for the sake of gain, when he ought to be engaged m the pursuit of knowledge, and in that self-improvement whicli might qualify him for his proper vocation in this world, and arm him at all points for the arduous service upon which he has entered. MONTESIXOS. It is a humiliating confession, but I fear that in no other country is learning so little loved and followed for its own sake as in England ; a national reproach, which, nevertheless, arises not so much from the low-mindedness of indi- viduals, as from the circumstances wherein they are placed. The number of persons who, if favour- able opportunity were afforded them, might be willino- to make learnino- the business and the delight of their lives, with the ardour and ability requisite for pursuing it to good effect, must in an}' generation necessarily be very small. How little, then, is the chance of their being born to the possession of such wealth as might enable them to indulge their genius ! and if sucli men are born in such a station, they must be endowed with a strength of moral character, which is far more rare than the gifts either of intellect or fortune, or they will not be able to overcome the debilitating effects of early prosperity. Such men, therefore, are the rarest of God's creatures LEARNING. 49 But for those who, with the same natural endow- ments, are born to the wooden spoon, and have to make their way in the world, they soon are made to feel that the care of providing for immediate wants leaves them little leisure, and less heart for those worthier labours, by which they might once have dreamt of making them- selves 'for ever known.' The booksellers and the public must be their patrons ; the former, of course, can only act as caterers for the latter ; and the many-headed beast is a foul feeder. To literature, therefore, as a means of subsis- tence, none but the rash and ill-advised, the un- fortunates and castaways of society, will betake themselves. But what are called the learned professions, allow no leisure for any pursuit that looks beyond the present. The lawyer has no sooner obtained a professional reputation, than he becomes the very slave of his practice, . . and well is it if his own soul is not entanoled in the snares which he is perpetually engaged in spin- ning for others. The physician has indeed the advantage that his path is in the way of intel- lectual and moral improvement ; but his, also, is an occupation which engrosses him, and which rarely can leave tlie mind at leisure, or at ease, for excursive and voluntary labours. From the clergy more might be expected, and more is VOL. II. E 50 LEARNING. found : but liow few among tliem are blest with the disposal of their own time, and the oppor- tunity of improving it! In retired situations libraries and encouragement are wanting ; in populous parishes, the cares and duties of his cure require the whole attention of a faithful pastor. Secular business, which, unconnected as it is with their sacred calling, and in some respects ill according with it, it is nevertheless in many situations necessary that they should undertake, makes large demands upon them. And they who are promoted to the dignities of the Church, find that when they were advanced from a private station they left behind them the leisure and the opportunities, as well as the freedom and the tranquillity and the comfort of private life. It is therefore from the minor dig- nitaries, the few of the clergy who possess bene- fices where the duty is little and the income sufficient, and the still fewer who, careless of cost or consequence in their ardour, overlook, and sometimes overcome, all obstacles, that lite- rary service can be looked for. The disposition and the ability God alone can give : the allot- ment which might place these in full action is at man's disposal : but when it is considered that what arc called family livings will be disposed of according to family claims, the best that can UNIVERSITIES. 51 be hoped is, that they may for the most part be respectably filled ; and the same* must be said of that portion of the crown patronage, which is bestowed among political claimants, though pub- lic opinion interposes there a stronger check. SIR THOMAS MORE. The more, therefore, is it to be desired that your Universities should again become seats of learning, as they were originally intended to be, and not mere places of education. MONTESINOS. I know not how this is to be brought about, seeing that the changes of society have made them what they are ; and that, as places of edu- cation, they are essential parts of our system. Even for this object they are straitened, so greatly has the population of this country in- creased, while the increase of those persons, for * ' How does it happen,' says a friend, whose letter has just reached me, ' that the opponents of the Church of Eng- ' land always miss the vulnerable points ? They attack our ' faith, and we have no difficulty in proving that we are ortho- ' dox. They attack the property of the Church, and we easily ' make out a legal title. Now, if they were to call upon us to ' prove that right faith has led to right practice, and that ' Church property is employed for Church purposes, we should ' have but little to say for ourselves.' . . More, I believe, in this generation than in the last, (more, indeed, it had need be !) and more I trust in the next than in this, E 3 52 UNIVERSITIES. whom such education is thought necessary, has been in far greater proportion. SIR THOMAS MORE. Another University, then, is wanted ? MONTESINOS. Undoubtedly it is. For, aUhough the en- largements which are now in progress at Cam- bridge are more extensive than all which were made during the last century, the new buildings will not do more than accommodate the students who have hitherto necessarily been lodged in the town, a practice in many respects incon- venient and injurious. So it will be at Oxford, if Oxford should follow the example. But both Universities are already sufficiently numerous ; and it is far more desirable that a third should be established, than that any further increase should take place in them. There are diffi- culties in the way ; and, if these were overcome, the Religio Loci would long continue to attract those, who could choose, to the elder institutions. On the other hand, much might be expected from that laudable desire which would be felt, of raising the new University in other respects to an equal estimation with those which have so long been the glory of the land. SIR THOMAS MORE. An advantage might be given it, if its fellow- UNIVERSITIES. 53 ships were not to be voidable by marriage ; the restriction is not necessary where residence with- in the walls is not required, and, not being- necessary, it is injurious, because it renders men, whose dearest hopes are indefinitely delayed, discontented with their lot. The usages of your society tend but too strongly to defer marriage in the middle ranks of life beyond the time which nature indicates, and which wise foresight would approve. MOXTESINOS. This may be one cause why so few of those, who remain in Colleo-e till middle or declinino- age, apply themselves there to those disinte- rested, and self-rewarding studies, for which the Universities afford facilities hardly to be found elsewhere. The fellowship was not more the object of their desire when they were labour- ing to obtain it in youth, than the succession is which may enable them to vacate it, and enter upon that course of domestic life to which every man looks forward with an instinctive longing, unless he has rendered himself unworthy of the happiness which in that course of life, and in that only, is to be found. Expectation, how- ever remote, of the chance that may remove him, keeps him always in a certain degree un- settled, and discontented patience produces in- 54 UNIVERSITIES.' sensibly a distaste for the place, and indisposes him for making the right use of its advantages. SIR THOMAS MORE. If you wovild make men good subjects, good servants of the public, good stewards of that which is committed to their charge, you must place them in circumstances favourable to their own happiness. No plants will thrive in a cold and meagre soil, ungenial to their nature ; nor, even if the soil be generous, will they put forth flowers, and yield fruit in due season after their kind, unless they have the enjoyment and the benefit of air and sunshine. MONTESINOS. The experiment might well be tried in a new institution. The first, and indeed the only diffi- culty, that of raising funds, might be overcome, if the intention were earnestly entertained, and any proper inclination shown on the part of govern- ment to promote it. Some of those reservoirs of private wealth, which are filled in every genera- tion by men whose souls can hardly be con- ceived of as anything else than glands for secret- ing lucre, might be expected to be opened in this direction by posthumous liberality. Some- thing might be expected for that better wisdom which discovers in time that riches must prove the reverse of a blessing to those unto whom UNIVERSITIES. 55 they are entrusted, unless they are well em- ployed. And that national and characteristic generosity, which in this country has never failed to answer every just call that has been made upon it, would not be found wanting- here. You said to me, that the spirit which built and endowed monasteries has passed away. Me- thinks it is not dead, but sleepeth ! It waits only for opportunity to awaken it, and encouragement to call it forth, and it would then be manifested in a manner suited to the state of knowledge, and the real interests of the nation. SIR THOMAS MORE. Where would you fix your University ? MONTESINOS. York has been named wnen such a design has been proposed : but a situation farther north would be preferable : because it should be chosen with a view to Scotland, for the Episcopalians of that country, and not for them alone, but for all who wish to preserve their sons from the Pestilence which, in certain Scotch Universities, walketh at noon day. SIR THOMAS MORE. Wherever there is a Cathedral, there would be a Religio Loci, into which the University would enter. 56 DURHAM. MONTESINOS. There are many places in the North where such a feeling might be revived, though that one to which your thoughts and mine would instantly recur, . . tliat which was the earliest seat of learning in this kingdom, is desecrated beyond all possibility of purification. It has become a place of colliers and keelmen ; and if in national gratitude a monument were to be erected, as it ought to be, in honour of the Venerable Bede, a spot whereon it might decently be set up could not now be found at Jarrow, where his happy and holy life was past. SIR TIIO:\rAS MORE. Durham, where his dust is deposited, would be in all respects an appropriate place, and not the M'orsc for having been the see of Cuthbert Tonstal. MONTESINOS. There are o-rcat and o-ood names connected with Durham, both of earlier and later date. The suitableness of that city for the seat of a third University is so apparent, that Oliver Cromwell, at the petition of certain northern gentry, took measures for establishing one there. But tlie part of the spoils of the bishopric, little as it was, which he appropriated to that purpose, was thought too much by those who HEXHAM. 5.7 were for sharing the whole plunder among them- selves : opposition was made by Oxford and Cambridge, both being at that time in hands from which nothing generous could be expected, and thus the scheme failed even before the Re- storation, which would probably have subverted it. Durham would be the fittest place in the north of England, unless Hexham may be deemed preferable. SIR THOMAS MORE. On the score of antiquity Hexham has greater claims, and as an ancient seat of learning. And as it is one of those places which were grievously injured by the dissolution of the Monasteries, the reparation, that might thus be made, is a consideration which ouoht not altoo-ether to be overlooked. You look, methinks, as though this were a consideration which, if mentioned, would only be despised. If such be your meaning, it is an ill symptom of the state of public feeling in these days. Whatever tends to withdraw men from the always too powerful influence of the present, and to connect them with other times, past or to come, . .whatever may lead them to extend their views out of their own generation, forward or in retrospect, . .whatever gives them a more diffused benevolence, a more extended range for their gratitude or their desires, indivi- 58 ANCESTRY. duals, if they are sensible of their own highest interest, would cherish in their own hearts, and Governments would do every thing to encourage in the people. They who care nothing for their ancestors, will care little for their posterity, . . indeed, little for anything except themselves. 19 COLLOQUY XIL BLENCATHRA.— THRELKELD TARN.— THE CLIFFORDS. Of the very many Tourists who are annually brought to this Land of Lakes by what have now become the migratory habits of the opulent classes, there is a great proportion of persons who are desirous of making the shortest possible tarriance in any place ; whose object is to get through their undertaking with as little trouble as they can, and whose inquiries are mainly directed to find out what it is not necessary for them to see; happy when they are comforted with the assurance, that it is by no means re- quired of them to deviate from the regular track, and that that which cannot be seen easily, need not be seen at all. In this way our o'l 7ro\7\.o) take their degree as Lakers. Nevertheless, the number of those who truly enjoy the opportunities which are thus afforded them, and have a genuine generous delight in beholding the grandeur and the lovelier scenes of a mountainons region, is sufficient to render this a good and wholesome fashion. The pleasure 60 MOUNTAIN SCENERY which they partake conduces as much to moral and intellectual improvement, as to health, and present hilarity. It produces no distaste for other scenes, no satiety, nor other exhaustion than what brings with it its own remedy in sound sleep. Instead of these, increase of ap- petite grows here by what it feeds on, and they learn to seek and find pleasure of the same kind in tamer landscapes. They who have acquired in these countries a love of natural scenery, carry with them in that love a perpetual source of en- joyment ; resembling in this respect the artist, who, in whatever scenes he may be placed, is never at a loss for something from which his pencil may draw forth a beauty, which unculti- vated eyes would fail to discover in the object itself. In every country, however poor, ..there is something of ' free Nature's grace ;' . . where- ever there is wood and water, wherever there are green fields,, .wherever there is an open sky, the feeling which has been called forth, or fostered among the mountains, may be sustained. It is one of our most abiding as well as of our purest enjoyments, .. a sentiment which seems at once to humble and exalt us, which from natural emo- tion leads us to devotional tliouglits and religious aspirations, grows therefore with o\u' growth, and strengthens when our strength is failing us. MOUNTAIN SCENERY. Gl I wonder not at tliose heathens who wor- shipped in high places. There is an elasticicity in the mountain air, which causes an excitement of spirits, in its immediate effect like that of wine when, taken in due measure, it gladdens the heart of man. The heio-ht and the extent of the surrounding objects, seem to produce a corre- spondent expansion and elevation* of mind ; and the silence and solitude contributes to this emotion. You feel as if in another region, al- most in another world. If a tourist in this country inquires which of our mountains it may be worth his while to ascend, he may be told any, or all. Helvellyn and Skiddaw and Blen- cathra, Scawfell and Great Gable, Hindsgarth * This feeling has never been more feelingly expressed than by Burnet in his fine chapter, de Montibus. ' Preeter ' Ccelornm facie7n, et immensa spacia cetherea, stellarumque ' graiissimum aspectimi, ocidos meos atque animum nihil ' magis deledare solet, quam Oceanum intueri^ et magiios ' monies terrce. Nescio quid grande hahent ct augiistum ' uterqite liorum, quo mens excitatur ad ingentes affectus et ' cogitationes ; sunimum rerum Authorem ct Opijicem inde ^facile contuenuir et admirainiu^ mentemque nostrum, qua; ' cumvoluptate res magnas contemplatiir, non esse rem parvam ' cnm gaudio recognoscimus. Et queecunque mnhram injiniti ' hahent, ut hahent omnia quce von facile comprchendimus, ' 06 magnitudinem rei, et sensus 7iostri plenitudinem, gratum * quendam stupor em animo affandunt.' — Telluris Thcoria Sacra, 1. i. c. 9. 6^ CUMBRIAN HISTORY. and Causey Pike, each is -unlike all the others in the prospect that it presents, each has features of its own, and all may well repay the labour of ascendino' them. There is little or nothing of historical or ro- mantic interest belonarino- to this re"ion. In this respect it is very unlike the Scotch Border, where Sir Walter can entertain his guests during a morning ride with tales of murders, executions, house-besieging and house-burning, as parts of family history belonging to every homestead of which he comes in sight. The Border history is of no better character on the English side ; but this part of the country was protected by the Solway, and by its natural strength, nor does it appear, at any time after it became English, to have been troubled with feuds. The English Barons, indeed, were by no means so often en- gaged in private wars as their Scotish neighbours, or the nobles on the continent; their contests were with the Crown, seldom with each other, and never with their vassals. Those contests were carried on at a distance from our Lake-land, where the inhabitants, being left in peace, seem to have enjoyed it, and never to have forfeited its blessings by engaging in the ways, and con- tracting the disposition of marauders. They had, therefore, neither ballad heroes, nor ballad DUNMAILRAISE. 63 poets, liappy in having afforded no field for tlie one, and no materials of this kind for the other. A heap of stones is the doubtful* monument of a battle which, in the middle of the tenth century, put an end to the kingdom of the Cum- brian Britons ; after a war in which the victori- ous allies must have been actuated by any motive rather than policy; the King of South Wales having united with Edmund the Elder against a people of his own race, and Edmund giving the little kingdom, when they had conquered it, to the King of Scotland. That heap at Dun- mailraise is our only historical monument, if such it may be called. There is something more for the imagination in knowing that three centuries earlier, the old bard, Llywarc Hen, was a prince of Cumbria, or of a partf thereof. He is said to have attained the extraordinary age of an hun- dred and fifty ; and, having been driven from his own country, to have died near Bala, at a place which is still called after him, the Cot'l of * Doubtful, because it is at the division of the two counties, upon the liigh road, and on the only pass, and may very pro- bably have been intended to mark the division. t Argoed, which, according to Mr. Owen, was part of the present Cumberland : it lay west of the Forest of Celyddon, and was bordered by that wood to the east, as the name implies. t Pabell Llywarc Hen, in the parish of Llanvor, in which church, according to tradition, he was buried. 64 LLYWARC HEN. Llyvvarc the Aged. From his own lamentations we know that he had four-and-twenty sons, ' wearing the goklen chain, leaders of battles, ' men that were valiant opposers of the foe,' and that he lived to see them all slain ! St. Herbert, our only Saint, is less remarkable among saints than Llywarc among poets ; the single circum- stance of his life that has been remembered, or invented of him, is that of his dying at the same hour with his absent friend St. Cuthbert, accord- ing to their mutual wish and prayer. From St. Herbert down to the tragedy of Lord Der- wentwater, (who was connected with this country only by his possessions and his title,) our local history has nothing that leads a traveller to con- nect the scenes through which he is passing with past events, . . one of the great pleasures of tra- velling, and not the least of its utilities. The story of the Shepherd Lord Clifford aftbrds a single exception ; that story, which was known only to a few antiquaries, till it was told so beautifully in verse by Wordsworth, gives a romantic interest to Blencathra. They who would ascend this mountain, should go from Keswick about six miles along the Pen- rith road, then take the road which branches from it on the left, (proceeding along tlie moun- tain side toward Heskctt Newmarket,) and begin TlIRELKELD TARN. Go to ascend a little way farther on by a green shepherd's path, distinctly marked, on the left side of a gill. That path may be followed on the mountain toward a little stream which issues from Threlkeld Tarn*; you leave it, keeping the stream on the right, and mount a short and rugged ascent, up which a horse may be led without difficulty ; and thus, with little fatigue, the Tarn is reached. A wild spot it is as ever was chosen by a cheerful party where to rest, and take their merry repast upon a summer's day. The green mountain, the dark pool, the crag under which it lies, and the little stream which steals from it, are the only objects ; the gentle voice of that stream the only sound, un- less a kite be wheeling above, or a sheep bleats on the fell side. A silent, solitary place; and such solitude heightens social enjoyment, as much as it conduces to lonely meditation. Ascending from hence toward the broAv of the mountain, you look back through the opening, where the stream finds its way, to a distant view * Absurd accounts have been published both of the place itself, and tlie difficulty of reaching it. The Tarn has been said to be so deep that the reflection of the stars may be seen in it at noon day, . . and that the sun never shines on it. One of these assertions is as fabulous as the other, ..and the Tarn, like all other Tarns, is shallow. VOL. IT. F 6G THRELKELD TARN. of the open country about Penrith, with the long line of Crossfell bounding it. When the brow is reached, you are on the edge of that bold and rugged front which Blencathra presents when seen from the road to Matterdale, or from the Vale of St. John's. A portion of the hill, (Hall- fell it is called,) somewhat pyramidical in shape, stands out here like an enormous buttress, sepa- rated from the body of the mountain on all sides by deep ravines. These have apparently been formed by some water-spout, bursting upon what was once the green breast of the mountain, and thus opening water-courses, which the rain and storms have continually been deepening. In looking down these ravines from the brow you have a sense of perfect security ; there is not even an appearance of danger ; and yet, if the whole depth below were one precipice, the effect could not be grander. At the foot is the culti- vated valley, where the Glenderamaken, collect- ing the waters of Blencathra from the north and east, winds along to join St. John's Beck, and form with it the Greta. In front are the Ulls- water mountains. The Vale of St. John's and Nathdale open into the subjacent valley; you look over Nathdale fell, which divides them, and beyond it Lcatheswater is seen, in its length, extending between Helvcllyn and its own fells. BLENCATHRA. 67 Derwentwater is to the right of this, under the western side of those fells^ and the semicircle is every where closed by mountains, range behind range. My friend, William Westall, who has seen the grandest and the loveliest features of nature in the East Indies and in the West, with the eye of a painter, and the feeling of a poet, burst into an exclamation of delioht and won- der when I led him to this spot. From Linthwaite Pike, which is the hiahest point of Blencathra, keeping along the brow, you pass in succession the points called Lilefell, Priestman and Knott Crag. They who perform the whole excursion on foot, may descend from hence, in a south-westerly direction, to the Glen- deraterra, cross that rivulet by a wooden bridge, and return to Keswick through Brundholm wood, by a very beautiful road, commanding views of the Greta in its manifold windings below, and, farther on, of the town, the lake, and the whole line of mountains from the Borrodale fells to Withop. But for women, and those from Avhom time has taken the superfluous strength of youth, it is better to be provided with carriages to the point where the ascent is commenced, and to rejoin them at the village of Threlkeld, descend- ing, after they have passed Knott Crag, upon that village by a green shepherds' path. The r 2 68 THRELKELD. path is not immediately perceptible from tlie heights, but, by making toward the village, you come upon it, and on so steep a declivity it is a great relief. Threlkeld, when it is approached by the high road on either side, or from the Vale of St. John's, appears one of the least agreeable of our villages ; it presents no character of amenity or beauty, and seems rather to be threatened* by the mountain, than sheltered by it. Very dif- ferent is its appearance when you descend upon it from Highrow-fcU by this green and pleasant path. Then, indeed, the village is beautiful ; * Blcncathra is indeed at all times an ill neighbour to this poor village. Waterspouts are either more frequent there, or from their effects have been more frequently observed, than on any other of our mountains, except it be Helvellyn, on the side of the Vale of St. John's. AVlicn they break, the houses are deluged, the fields covered with stones and gravel, the bridges sometimes blown up, and the road rendered im})assable. Some years ago I went to tlie village on the day after one of these Bursts, as they are significantly called. The jjcople were clearing their liouses of the wreck which had been deposited there by the water in its jiassago, and all the furniture from tlie lower rooms was set out in the street, as if there liad been a general distress. Three parallel channels liad been formed on tlie slope of the great buttress (II all-fell) where the cloud discharged its whole weight of waters ; and these were from five to six feet deep, and eighteen wide. Wc knew at Kes- wick that a waterspout had fallen in this direction, because the Greta hud risen suddenly, and was unusually discoloured. THRKLKELD, 6D not merely as a habitable human spot, the first which we reach upon issuing from some wild and uncultivated solitude, but in itself, and its position. The mountain, as thus seen, appears to protect and embosom it ; in front there is the cheerfulness and the fertility of the open valley ; old sycamores extend their deep shade over some of the long low-roofed outhouses; there is the little chapel to complete the picture, and sanctify, as it were, the scene ; and there is the musick of the mountain stream, accompanying the latter part of the descent, in unison with all the ob- jects, and with the turn of mind which those objects induce. Here was the family seat of that good Sir Lancelot Threlkeld, who, after John Lord Clif- ford (the Clifford of Shakespere's dramas) was slain at Ferrybridge, and his lands seized, and his posterity attainted by the triumphant House of York, married his widow, Margaret Bromflett, Baroness Vesey, and was, as the records of the family say, ' a very kind and loving husband to her,' helping to conceal her two sons. The youngest was sent beyond sea, and died, while yet a child, in the Low Countries. Henry, the elder, who was about six or seven years old when his father was killed, ' she committed to the care 70 THE CLIFFORDS. ' of certain shepherds whose wives* had served ' her, which shepherds and their wives kept him * concealed sometimes at Lonsborrow in York- ' shire, (which was part of her inheritance,) and ' sometimes in Cumberland, (here among these ' mountains,) and elsewhere, for the space of ' almost four-and-twenty years.' There he was bred up as a shepherd's boy, ' in a very mean ' condition,' and thus ' miraculously preserved,' for, ' had he been known to be his father's son ' and heir, he would either have been put in ' prison, or put to death, so odious was the * memory of his father for killing the young * Earl of Rutland, and for being such a des- ' perate commander in battle against the House ' of York.' The Shepherd Lord was the happiest of his race ; and, falling upon peaceful times after his restoration, was enabled to indulge the peaceful and thoughtful disposition which his early for- tunes had produced. * ' Which sheplierds' wives had formerly been servants in ' that family, attending the nurse that gave him suck, whicli ' made him, being a child, more willing to submit to tliat mean ' condition ; where they infused into him the belief that he ' must either be content to live in that manner, or l)e utterly *. undone.' THE CLIFFORDS. 71 Love had he found in huts where poor men lie ; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills. In him the savage virtue of the race, Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead ; Nor did he change ; but kept in lofty place The wisdom which adversity had bred. Glad were the vales and every cottage hearth ; Tlie Shepherd Lord was honoured more and more : And ages after he was laid in earth, * The Good Lord Clifford' was the name he bore. Wordsworth. His history is not more remarkable in itself, than in the contrast which it affords to that of his ancestors, so many of whom had rendered themselves eminent by their activity and their ability in turbulent times. The property which they possessed in this part of England was origi- nally granted by William the Conqueror to one of the Norman Chiefs, Ranulph de Me- schiens, who married William's niece, the sister of Hugh Lupus. From his sister it descended to Hugh de Morville, one of the murderers of Thomas-a-Becket, and having been forfeited in consequence of that crime, was granted by King- John to Robert de Veteripont, who was the son of Morville's sister : ' the favour of that king, .72 THE CLIFFORDS. ' and tlie marriage of Idonea* his wife, (who was ' a great heiress,) and his own industry, (for he * was of an active knowing spirit,) were the three ' steps which raised his fortunes to the height ' they attained.' He was, indeed, one of the most distinguished men of his ao-e, and to him Appleby and Brovigh, with all the appendages, and the Sheriffwick of Westmoreland, were granted in perpetuity. He died in peace, at a good old age, a rare fortune for men of his sta- tion in those days ; his son also came to a natural death, dying young ; the grandson fell in battle on the side of Simon de Montfort, either at Lewes or at Evesham, and thus the estates escheated a second time to the Crown. They were restored to his two daughters, one of whom dying without issue, they past in marriage with the other to the Cliffords, who in conse- quence removed from the Wye to the Edenf. The Cliffords took their English appellation from their castle upon the Wye ; they were de- * It is upon a later personage of the same family tliat Fuller in his quaint way remarks, ' the first and last I meet with of ' that Christian name, though proper enough for women, who ' arc to be " meet he/pn" to their husbands.' t * Some back friends to this country,' says Fuller, ' will * say that, though Westmoreland hath niurli of Eden, (running * clear through it,) yet iiath it little of delight therein.' THE CLIFFORDS. 73 scended from the dukes of Normandy, and al- ready the story of Rosamond had given a roman- tic celebrity to the name. The first of the family, who settled in Westmoreland, built the greater part of Brougham Castle ; he was sur- prized in Hawarden Castle by the Welsh Prince David, and taken prisoner, being mortally wounded. His son and successor fell at Ban- nockburn. Roger Lord Clifford, who came next in suc- cession, had the worse fortune, according to the Chroniclers, of being drawn and hanged at York, but in good company, and in no discredit- able cause, the other persons who suffered at that time being John Lord Mowbray, and Sir Gosein d'Eeuill. There are few old family trees, especially of the coronet-bearing kind, which have not a pendant from some of their branches : but thouoh this Roo-er had done as much to deserve the honours of political mar- tyrdom as any other bold baron of that rebellious age, the Chroniclers are certainly mistaken in saying that he attained a consummation so de- voutly to be deprecated. A feeling of humanity such as is seldom read of in civil wars, and especially in those times, saved him from exe- cution, when he was taken prisoner with Lan- caster and the rest of his confederates at Borough- 74 THE CLIFFORDS. bridge. He liad received so many wounds in the battle, that he coukl not be brought before the judge for the summary trial, which would have sent him to the hurdle and the gallows. Being looked upon, therefore, as a dying man, he was respited from the course of law; time enough elapsed, while he continued in this state, for the heat of resentment to abate, and Edward of Caernarvon, who, though a weak and most misguided prince, was not a cruel one, spared his life ; . . an act of mercy which was the more graceful, because Clifford had insulted the royal authority in a manner less likely to be forgiven than his braving it in arms. A pursuivant had served a writ upon him in the Baron's Chamber, and he made the man eat the wax wherewith the writ was signed, ' in contempt, as it Avere, of the said king.' He was the first Lord Clifford that was at- tainted of treason. His lands and honours were restored in the first year of Edward HI., but he survived the restoration only a few weeks, dying in the flower of his youth, unmarried ; but leaving * some base children behind him, whom ' he had by a mean woman who was called Julian ' of the Bower, for whom he built a little house ' hard by Whinfell, and called it Julian's Bower, * the lower foundation of which standcth, and is THE CLIFFORDS. 75 ' 3^et to be seen,' said tlie compiler of tlie family- records, an hundred and fifty years ago, ' though ' all the walls be down long since. And it is ' thought that the love which this Roger bore to * this Julian kept him from marrying any other ' woman.' Poets, this story is for you; the marriao-e of the brother who succeeded to his titles and estates contains something for the antiquaries. His wife, Isabella de Berkeley, was sister to Thomas Lord Berkeley, of Berkeley Castle, in which castle, two years after it had rung with ' shrieks of death,' when the tragedy of Edward II. was brought to its dreadful catas- trophe there, the marriage was performed. She had for her portion a thousand pounds and fifty marks, to be paid by three equal instalments in three years, and secured to her by recognizance, ' toward the raising of which portion her brother ' levied aid of his freeholders.' Her wedding apparel was ' a gown of cloth of bruny Scarlett, ' or brown scarlett, with a cape furred with the * best miniver. Lord Berkeley and his lady being, ' for the honour of the said bride, apparelled in * the like habit. And the bride's saddle, which * she had then for her horse, cost five pounds in ' London.' This Robert lived a country life, and ' nothing ' is mentioned of him in the wars,' except that 76 THE CLIFFORDS. he once accompanied an army into Scotland. It is however rekited of him, that when Edward Balliol was driven from Scotland, the exiled kino' was ' right honourably received by him in ' Westmoreland, and entertained in his Castles ' of Brougham, Appleby, and Pendragon ;' in acknowledgment for which hospitality Balliol, if he might at any time recover the kingdom of Scotland out of his adversaries' hands, made him a grant of Douglas Dale, which had been granted to his grandfather who fell in Wales. The Hart's-horn tree in Whinfell park, well known in tradition, and in hunters' tales, owes its celebrity to this visit, though the tale* which * That ' they ran the stag by a single grcyliound out of ' AVhinfel Park to Red Kirk in Scotland, and back again to ' this place, when, being botli spent, the stag leaped over the ' pales, but died on the other side. . . and the greyhound, at- ' tempting to leap, fell, and died on the contrary side.' In memory of this fact the stag's horns were nailed upon a tree just by, and, the dog being named Hercules, this rhyme was niade upon them : Hercules killed Hart a-greese. And Hart a-greese killed Hercules. Nicolsonn and Burn remark, wlien they tell the story, that a course to Nine Kirks, instead of into Scotland, might be ftir enough, from some parts of the park, for a greyhound to run. But the tale is of later invention than the Countess's time ; she simply says, that the King hunted the stag to death, . . and certainly he would not have liunted him into Scotland, THE CLIFFORDS. 7"/ belongs to it is, beyond all doubt, apocryphal. The horns were nailed up in the tree in honour of the royal guest who had seen the animal killed there ; and there they remained more than three centuries, ' growing, as it were, naturally ' in the tree,' till, in the year 1G48, one of the branches was broken off by some of the army, and, ten years afterwards, the remainder was taken down by some mischievous people secretly in the night; ' so now,' says the Countess of Pembroke, noticing this act of mischief in her Diary, ' there is no part thereof remaining, the * tree itself being so decayed, and the bark of ' it so peeled off, that it cannot last long ; where- ' by we may see Time brings to forgetfulness ' many memorable things in this world, be they ' ever so carefully preserved, for this tree with ' the Hart's horn in it was a thing of much note ' in these parts.' And then, according to her custom of applying scripture on all occasions that any way touched her, she refers to the third chapter of Ecclesiastes. Roger had remained unmarried, because his illicit connexion with a woman of low birth had produced a true and faithful love. Robert lived seventeen years with the wife, whose bridal magnificence was thought worthy of being de- 78 THE CLIFFORDS. scribed in the records* of the Berkeley family; and his high-born widow married again so soon after his decease, that the second husband, Sir Thomas de Musgrave, paid into the Exchequer a fine of £200, for the trespass which he had committed in marrying her ; it being forbidden by the canon law, then much in use in England, to remarry intra annum hidus, without a special dispensation from the Sovereign. His eldest son, at the age of sixteen, fought with the Black Prince when he won his spurs at Cressy; he died, as is supposed, in France, without issue, leaving a brother to succeed him. This brother, Roger Lord Clifford, ' was accounted ' one of the wisest and gallantest men of all the ' Cliffords of his race, by the consent of those * antiquaries that knew most of the story of ' England, and have seen most of the records ' and leger books thereof.' He was often in the wars, both in France and in Scotland ; he re- paired the ancient castles which had been the seats of his forefathers ; he left a greater estate in lands than most of them ; and he was the longest possessor of those lands of any before * ' All wliith particulars are cited by Mr. Smith's * book of tlic records of the Lord Berkeley, in written hand, ' which he faithfully collected out of the records of that Castle, * and out of the Tower of London.' THE CLIFFORDS. 79 him, or after him, till the Shepherd Lord. It was his fortune, also, to be the first Lord Clif- ford of Westmoreland and Skipton, that ever lived to be a grandfather. He obtained from Edward IIL two weekly markets and two fairs in the year for the town of Kirkby Stephen. His wisdom was shown in keeping himself free from troubles during those troublesome times at the latter end of King Edward IH.'s reign, and in the beginning of King Richard IL's. His eldest son, Thomas, was less prudent; he was one of Richard H.'s loose favourites, and in consequence fell into such displeasure with the Parliament, that he was in the number of those persons who were banished from the Court, and proscribed from the King's service ; . . a great grief to his father, who died presently after this disQ-race. The son survived him little more than two years ; impatient of inaction, and probably with the hope, also, of redeeming his character in a holy war, he went to fight against the Pagans in what was then called Spruce, and was there slain*, leaving an infant son. That son deserved and enjoyed the good opinion of Henry V., and held the office of * His father-in-law, Lord Ross, crusading in a different direction, died the same year, on his return from the Holy Land, ' in the city of Paphos, in the isle of Cyprus.' 80 l-HE CLIFFORDS. Butler at the coronation of liis Queen. He was bound by articles to cany over to the French wars two hundred men-at-arms, consisting of three knights, forty-seven esquires, and an hun- dred-and-fifty archers ; one-third of them on foot, the rest horsemen ; the knights were to be allowed two shillings a-day, the esquires one, the archers sixpence, Clifford himself four shil- lings. In the flower of his age he w^as slain there at the siege of Meaux, by a quarrel from a crossbow. Then ensued the civil wars, in which the old Lord Clifford, so called* when * To the mistake, into wliicli tliis has misled Shakspeare, we are indebted for a beautiful passage : ' Wast thou ordain'd, dear father, ' To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve ' The silver livery of advised age ; ' And in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus ' To die in ruffian battle V The old play, which Shakspeare follows, calls him ' Aged pillar of all Cumberland's true house,* but has not the farther inaccuracy of representing him as having grown old in peace. This Lord Clifford was for fi-om liaving past a peaceful youth. He had done ' brave service ' in the wars in France, at the assault and taking of the strong ' town of Ponthoise, when and where he and his men were all ' clothed in white by reason of the snow, and in that manner ' surprised the town. He also valiantly defended the same ' town against the assaults then and there given by the French ' King Charles VII.' THE CLIFFORDS. 81 only forty years of age, because he had a sou who was iu the field, fell at St. Albaus ; and that son, to whom Shakspeare has given a worse renown than he* deserves, at Ferrybridge. How often must that sweet strain of melan- choly reflection, which Shakspeare has so beau- tifully expressed for Henry VI., have past through the mind of the Shepherd Lord, in his humble state, when thinking of his ancestors, and comparing his own consciousness of per- petual danger f with the security of his lowborn associates ! * Rutland was in his eighteentli year, and barbarous as it was to refuse him quarter, there is a wide difference between killing a youth of that age in the field, and butchering a boy of twelve years old. Hall has misled Shakspeare and the author of the old play here. t Cromwell had this feeling. ' I can say in tlie presence of ' God,' said he in one of his speeches, ' in comparison of ' whom we are but like poor creeping ants upon the earth, I ' would have been glad to have lived under my wood side, to ' have kept a flock of sheep, rather than have undertook sucli ' a government as this is !' Mr. Towell Rutt (to whom English liistory is indebted for the publication of Burton's Journal) calls this ' one of the Protector's favourite common-places. I do not doubt that Oliver Cromwell often felt as he then expressed himself, and that the tears, which accompanied the expression, came from a deeper source than hypocrisy can reach. VOL. II. G 82 THE CLIFFORDS. ' O God ! methinks it were a happy life To be no better than a homely swain ; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run ; How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year. How many years a mortal man may live. When tliis is known, then to divide the times ; So many hours must I tend my flock ; So many hours must I take my rest ; So many hours must I contemplate ; So many days my ewes have been with young ; So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean ; So many months ere I shall shear the fleece ; So minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.' 83 PART II. PRIVILEGED ORDERS.— THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENTS. I HAD passed upon Blencathra one of those days which provide a pleasure for remembrance, till time and mortality, in their sure course, sadden our blithest recollections. Our talk had been of the Shepherd Lord and of his house ; and I was still ruminating upon the history of that family, and the days in which a noble birth so frequently led to a violent death, when Sir Thomas entered the room, and put an end to my musings. The change of times, said I, has been favourable in all respects to one class of men, at least : our nobles enjoy all the advantages of their rank in this age, without any of the dangers which for- merly environed it. Their rivalry with each other expends itself at elections, where they bleed in purse instead of person ; engage in political parties or factions as passionately as they will, their stake extends not now beyond an official appointment, or a feather in the cap ; and none among them for the last three generations can G 2 84 REVOLUTIONARY PRINCIPLES. even have dreamt of leaving his head upon Temple Bar to be looked at for a halfpenny through a spy-glass* ; . . or of being buried with it under his arm. SIR THOMAS MORE. And yet in these your days, noble and royal heads, which were as little troubled on their pil- lows with such anticipations before the danger surrounded them, have been laid under the en- gine ! Pestilences of every kind, Montesinos, even when they move slowly, travel far; and their morbific principle, though it may long lie dormant, quickens into sudden and fatal activity at last. This plague began near at hand . . close upon your shores. Ucalegon's house has been burnt, . . it is smoking still, and the sparks have been carried among your combustibles and dry timber ! ' Having eyes, see ye not ? and having 'ears, hear ye not? and do ye not remember?' States have their seasons of tranquillity, and that with which this kingdom has been blest, has been of unusual duration ; but no state will ever be secure from political tragedies till that king- dom come, for the coming of which children are * ' I have been this morning,' says Horace Walpole, ' to tlie ' Tower, and past under tlie new heads at Tenij)le liar, wlicre ' j)coj)le make a trade of letting spying-glasses at a Iialf-pcnny ' a look.' — Leltas, vol. i. p. 151. REVOLUTIONARY PRINCIPLES. 85 taught to offer up their daily prayers, but for which the institutions of society seem little calcu- lated to prepare the way. Half a century ago, the British constitution was an object of admira- tion, or of envy, to other nations, wherever its true character was understood, or its effects per- ceived. Then also it was the pride, the boast, the peculiar and proper glory of the British people, that they lived under such a constitution, . . that they were blessed, above all nations, with a form of government in which political freedom and legitimate authority were united, . . that they were born to an inheritance of civil and religious liberty. Is it at this time held in such estima- tion, either by foreigners, or among yourselves ? MONTESIXOS. With the wise and the thoughtful it is not less valued, either abroad or at home, than it has been at any time since, under the especial blessing of Providence, it settled, after so many struggles, and such imminent danger, into its existing state. SIR THOMAS MORE. The wise and the thoughtful ! . . what propor- tion, think you, do these bear to the multitude? Or in what age or country is it that they have ever acted upon their own generation, otherwise than 86 REVOLUTIONARY PRINCIPLES. to appeal to posterity against it? In what esti- mation is this mixed government held by the stirring spirits of the world ? by your talking and your writing population, . . your sophists and sciolists, . . the blind who lead the blind, . . and those whom the Prince of this World (their Ju- piter) dementates ? Are these people, . . and their name is Legion, . . English at heart ? Or is it not true of the many, or the most, that they are eager to begin the work of demolition, . . a craft in which any one may commence master, without having served an apprenticeship,* though not without danger of bringing down an old house upon his head ? . . for, in offences of this nature, retribution follows righteously, close upon the crime ! MONTESINOS. A new government has been constituted in a new country, under new circumstances, and con- sequently upon a different platform; and to this they look, like the Puritans of old to Geneva, as to their pattern in the Mount. They take its permanence for granted, and reason upon its * Al dcscomponcr cada uno cs maestro. Columbus says this in tlie account of liis last voyage. (Navarrete. Coleccion de los Viages, &c. vol. i., p. 310.) Perliajjs it is a proverb which he uses. AMERICAN GOVERNMENTS, 87 assumption as a matter which admits of no dis- pute"^', though its duration is yet some twenty years short of the natural age of man ! Such governments, however, which now spring up like mushrooms in the new world, possess one obvious advantage over our more complicated forms ; they build up little, and therefore have little that can be overthrown, through whatever revolutions they may pass. SIR THOMAS MORE. The supposed advantage, methinks, is such as they who dwell in tents may be said to enjoy in comparison with those who inhabit cities. An earthquake finds nothing to destroy among them ; and if a storm loosen their poles, tear the tent-cords * ' Intelligent foreigners,' says Dr. Dwight, ' who have ' made such inquiries as were in their power, and gained some ' knowledge of our system of government ; who see it in theory ' more liable to fluctuation than any other, and yet are obliged ' by facts to acknowledge, that it is one of the most stable and ' unchanging in the world ; are astonished and perplexed at. ' this strange contradiction.' (Travels in New England and New York, vol. i. p, 288.) This very intelligent, and, for the most part, judicious writer, has forgotten that he himself was some twenty years older than the government of whose stability and immutability he boasts I The Life of General Hoche, by Alexandre Rousselin, is de- dicated A La Republique Eternelle, . . the republic being at that time in the sixth year of its age ! 88 AMERICAN GOVERNMENTS. out of the sand, and blow down the whole dou- ?(Y//', they have only to crawl out from under the curtains, and pitch it again as soon as the wind has ceased. The Scenitse have certainly had this advantage over the ancient Egyptians, and the Greeks and Romans of antiquity ; . . a worshipful pre-eminence it is ! But such as it is, it is to be enjoyed only by those who dwell in don-wars or JiTcials. Civilization, polity, urbanity, are terms which denote their relation to a more advanced state of society, and this may be brought down by revolutions to as low a state as that of the Barbary Moors, or the Abyssinian Christians. Lay your foundations in the rock and let your edifice be compact and well-proportioned ; then, though the rain descend, and the floods come, and the winds blow and beat, and the stream bear upon it, it will not fall : nothing but an earthquake can overthrow it ;.. and if, by some such convulsion in the order of nature, as by Providence appointed, it be overthrown at last, it is something at least to leave ruins for posterity ! MONTESINOS. In a certain sense men may be said to lose that, which, having within their power, they fail to gain. Much the new Governments, or rather the fabrics of society, must undoubtedly lose in not possessing some of those institutions which AMERICA. 89 they seem agreed to reject. But they have hardly had a choice. Old forms of government are not transplantable into new countries. SIR THOMAS MORE. If the Greeks and Romans had been of that opinion, Europe would at this day have been more barbarous than it is. MONTESINOS. But the Greeks and Romans never established themselves in new countries. They planted armed colonies; they went as conquerors, not as occupants. To their colonists, therefore, mili- tary discipline was necessary for self-preserva- tion ; and civil order took its place under that protection. SIR THOMAS MORE. The whole of America was, in one sense of the term, a new country, when it was discovered, and taken possession of with a strong hand by the discoverers, upon an imaginary right which they devised for themselves. But in the sense wherein you use it, the term applies only to those parts which were inhabited by scattered tribes, . . savages, whom it was hardly possible to conquer or to tame. War with them resembled a contest* with wild beasts for possession of the * This was well represented by the Marquis de Denonville in a despatch from Canada to the French Government, written 90 COLONIES. forest; and by any ordinary means or agencies of civilization they were not to be reclaimed. In such countries where the forest is to be cleared, and the savag-es who roam over it are to be hunted beyond the pale, the colonists have to carry with them not only the rudiments, but also the materials of society, and those materials are necessarily scanty, and, for the most part, bad of their kind. Natural wants leave them no leisure for the refinements of life, and the mere animal importance of individual man is such, that artificial distinctions are not maintainable among them. When such colonists occupy a sea-port, they are kept by means of commercial intercourse up to a certain degree of civilization, but it is the lowest degree. If there be a well- rooted principle of religion among them, it acts as a strong corrective, so long as they remain together ; but among those who branch oif and in 1688. ' En parlant de la guerre des Sauvages, il dit, qu'on ' 726 pent en donner line plus juxtc idee, que de representer ' ces Barharea comme des Betes farovches, qui sont repandues ' dans une vasie Foret, d'ou ils ravagent tons les Pays circum- ' voisins. O as' assemble pour leur donner la chasse, ons'informe ' oil est leur retraite, et elle est par tout ; ilfaut les attendre a ' Vaffut, et on les attend lontems. On neles pent aller chercher ' qu'avec des chiens de chasse, et les Sauvages sont les seuls ' Levriers dont on j^uisse se servir pour cela.' — Cliarlevoix, Hist, dc la Nouvellc France, t. ii. \i. 379. COLONIES. 91 disperse into the interior, where the rituals of social religion can no longer be observed, that only preservative fails ; and they fall into a state, which, if it be in some respects better than that of the wild-men whom they displace, is in other respects as certainly worse. MOXTESINOS. Such has been the history of the Dutch in South Africa, of the Spaniards in the Llanos, in the interior of La Plata, and in Paraguay, wherever, indeed, in their wide American pos- sessions, they found none but savages to contend with ; and such, also, is the state of the Brazilians in their grazing provinces. Among a people in this condition, the propensity is towards a popu- lar government, weak in its seat and centre, and altogether inefficient at a distance. Whatever may be the nominal government under which they live, the state in which such people exist differs little from mere anarchy. Some admitted rules are followed among them in the devolution and distribution of property ; in other respects laws are regarded no farther than as the ob- servance may coincide Avith their inclination or convenience. SIR THOMAS MORE. But there were parts of the New World where the Spaniards found regular governments, com- 92 SPANISH AMERICA. plicated systems of society, and established habits of principled subordination, which had been artfully inculcated, and were well rooted in the feelings of the people. In those countries they found no tendency toward democratical institu- tions, and certainly they carried none with them when they settled there. Yet such institutions are adopted in Bogota, Peru, and Mexico, as well as at Buenos Ayres and Caraccas, as if, wherever society were fused by the revolutionary fire, it took this form ; whether it be that into which it will finally settle after cooling, time will show. In those countries a monarchial govern- ment might seem more congenial to old customs, old opinions, and the condition of the people at the time when the flames reached them. MONTESINOS. Had the Spaniards efi'ccted their American conquests in independent armies, like the nor- thern nations, who established themselves by arms throughout the Western Empire, monarchies would have taken root in parts of the New World as naturally as they had done in the Old. The victorious leader would have taken the place of the Potentate whom he had thrust from the throne ; and Cortes, Pizarro, Qucsada and Fe- derman, might have been the Hengist and Cerdic, the Alaric and Clovis, of so many dynasties. SPANISH AMERICA. 93 But the Spaniards carried with them a strono-er principle of loyalty to their sovereign, and at- tachment to their country, than might have been expected from such adventurers; and when the attempt to establish an independent state was made in Peru, under the most favourable cir- cumstances, the King's name was found to be a tower of strength by those who adhered to it. Perhaps this has not been fortunate either for the conquered kingdoms, or for the mother country. Perhaps it might have been better for Mexico, if Cortes had seated himself in the place of Mon- tezuma, and for Peru if the younger Almagro, or Giron, had made Cuzco the metropolis of a revived kingdom. In that case the two nations would long ere this time have been united, and that fatal enmity of castes and colours would have been prevented, which has produced so great injustice, and so much misery at all times, and has cost so much blood in the present generation. But no local and present monarchy having grown up in the transition of power from one race to another, all things have since tended to alienate the minds of the American Spaniards from such a government. To them it has been for the pur- poses of oppression, a terrible reality; for the purposes of protection and beneficence, a phan- tom. Thus when the hour of revolution came 94 SPANISH AMERICA. they were found in a condition utterly indisposed for monarchy, and as utterly unfit for any other form of government, having neither materials from which an aristocracy might be built up, nor a democracy composed with any reasonable prospect of stability for the state, or of repose for the miserable people. SIR THOMAS MORE. Grievous, indeed, must have been the misgo- vernment of the Mother Country, which has ren- dered its colonies thus at the same time impatient of foreign dominion, and incompetent to the task of governing themselves ! MONTESINOS. Our colonists were not found in that state when the plague, which is now devastating Spanish America and threatening Brazil, broke out among them. SIR THOMAS MORE. A plague you justly call it, ..of all plagues the most formidable that has ever yet been poured out from the vials of wrath ! Yet how easily might all this evil have been averted by moderation and patience, both from the British and the Spanish-American colonies ! There is a natural unfitness in distant dominion, when it ceases to be necessary for the support and pro- tection of a growing state. This is so evident COLONIES. 95 a truth, that no government, which is not in a state of barbarous ignorance, can fail to perceive it, however reluctant it may be to allow that the natural term of pupilage has expired. But no reluctance can long delay the recognition ; for it becomes necessary, as soon as it manifestly appears to be just. In a due course of policy the Mother Country would withdraw its super- intendence from an adult colony, just as a nation recalls its cautionary troops from fortresses which they have occupied in a friendly territory, when the cause for that provisional occupation is at an end. The state of tutelage and dependence thus terminating would be succeeded by an alliance, nearer in its kind, and more durable, than any which is grounded upon treaties, with whatever adjurations ratified, and by whatever motives of mutual interest cemented. The connection of Great Britain with what are now the United States of America would, ere this time, have thus matured, had not a convulsion, which ended in a violent disruption, been brought on by the old leaven of puritanism in the colonies, and by the heat and profligacy of faction at home, at least as much as by the erroneous measures of the government. Well had it been if the mischief had terminated with the struggle ! The Ameri- cans, like the English, are a sober people, and 90 COLONIES. the mispolicy on either side, which should pre- vent the close relationship between the two nations, from yet producing its proper and be- neficent effect upon both, would deserve rather to be called wicked than weak. But an evil principle has triumphed. The doctrine of obe- dience for conscience sake has been renounced in the one country, and seems too surely as if it were practically abandoned in the other, though it is the Christian doctrine, and that upon which alone the peace and happiness of society can rest. The example which was thus set them, has been followed by the Spanish-Americans with fatal fidelity. They, indeed, had real grievances to render them discontented under a dependence, which was made galling by every kind of vexatious and contumelious injustice. But when the course of events would surely and speedily have brought about, without a struggle, their virtual independence and actual emancipa- tion, . . when those injurious restrictions must of necessity have ceased, which, having once ceased, it would not have been possible for the Mother Country ever to re-impose, . .just at that time the revolutionary spirit broke loose. All the crimes which have been committed among them,* all the calamities which they have endured, tlie blood which has been shed like water, the dcso- Spanish America. 97 lation of families, the miseries in which a whole generation has been involved, . . might have been spared, and they would at this hour have pos- sessed, in peace and prosperity, every privilege which they ought to have desired, or whicli they were capable of enjoying, if they could have been contented * to ' tarry the Lord's leisure.' MOXTESINOS. So it is that men in their impatience convert to their bane that which, if seasonably received, would be their blessing. Like children who gather green fruit, they do not feel, and will not be persuaded to perceive that . . . Time is Nature's faithful messenger, And brings up all we wish, as well as all we fear.f Dearly are the Spanish colonists at this day abiding the consequences of this error, and dearly will they long abide it ! The consumption of * Patience, however, is not recommended by the directors of public opinion in Great Britain. One of tliem says : — ' Patience never did any good in this world, and never will. ' We must fight for all that is valuable ; and as it is a condi- ' tion of our existence that rest can only be enjoyed after ' labour, so in like manner we can have no good without a ' struggle. . . John Bull must be constantly poked in the ribs.' This is the advice given, in wliat may be called Captain Rock's Journal, to the Irish Papists! t Defoe. VOL. II. H 98 SPANISH AMERICA. lives has been more than tenfold the sum of that in the American war; and now, when Spain is no longer able to support the distant contest, they are left with all the principles of discord among themselves in full activity. The best men, as in such times they always are, have been the earliest victims. Are legislators and rulers likely to be found among those who, by means of a craftier course of conduct, or the exertion of more daring qualities, have survived the struggle, . . men whose hearts have been seared by their own sufferings, or hardened, if not by the crimes which they have actually committed, by those which they have witnessed, and in which they have been inevitably, perhaps unwil- lingly, engaged, . . which they have been com- pelled to sanction, . . and by which they have profited ? 'Tis not in battles tliat from youth we train The Governor, who must be wise and good, And temper willi llie sternness of the brain Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanliood. Wisdom doth live with cliildren round her knees, Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk Man liolds with week-day man in the hourly walk Of the mind's business ; these are the degrees By which true sway doth mount ; this is the stalk True power doth grow on.* * Wordswortli. SPANISH AMERICA. 99 SIR THOMAS MORE, The reason is sufficiently manifest wherefore a preference for republican institutions should hitherto have been shown throughout the whole of these new states. There was neither family nor person in any of them to whose claims the general opinion would have deferred ; and there was the example of their northern neighbours, whose prosperity they would consider to be the consequence of their popular government, not knowing for how much the Americans are in- debted to the habits and principles in which they had been educated, and which they derived from their Original stock, Dutch, or Swedish, as well as British. But this preference among the Spanish-Americans has not even the prejudice of a classical education to support it. After an age of anarchy, men gladly submit to any govern- ment that offers them a prospect of tranquillity ; and a successful commander may, for that reason, find that the public inclination coincides with his own ambition, if he wishes to make his authority permanent, and take to himself the title of King. The station may be, though pe- rilous, the safest in which he can place himself; and monarchies may thus begin in the New World as they did in the Old. H 2 100 SPANISH AMERICA. MONTESINOS. The general disposition there, at present, seems decidedly against that form of government. — > Even in Canada there exists a strong feeling in favour of republican equality. For though by the constitution of that province, as determined in the Quebec Bill, the King may confer here- ditary titles of honour, with the right annexed of a seat in the Legislative Council, no title with such a right has yet been conferred, during the course of half a century. Now surely it must have been the intention of the British Govern- ment, when that Constitution was framed, to strengthen itself thus cheaply and naturallv, by creating a colonial nobility ; and the reason why this has not been done, can only be that some strong objection was apprehended from the state of popular opinion. SIR THOMAS MORE. Perhaps persons have not been found there solicitous for such honours. MONTESINOS. Titles will always be objects of ambition when they are regarded as honours, even tlio\igh mere honours, and of the lowest kind ; surely still more in a case like tliis, wliere they would have carried with them hereditary iullucnce, whicli is power. DISCONTENT. lOl SIR THOMAS MORE. The reason, then, peradventure, may be, that fit subjects have not been found. MONTESINOS. That reason might be admitted if any intel- ligible principle of selection could be discovered in the promotion of aspirants to the peerage at home. SIR THOMAS .^IOR£. The English, Montesinos, have not as yet been remarkable either for the efficiency, or the wis- dom of their colonial system. They send out adventurers of British mould and spirit, . . good clay, well-tempered, . . and by such men rapid advances are made toward a certain kind of pros- perity, under British protection, and with the aid of British capital. But how the foundations of a state should be laid, and what superstructure should be erected, seem to be questions upon which your colonial architects have bestowed little thought, and in which they have hitherto manifested but poor proficiency. MONTESIXOS. I should rather expect, if things hold on in their apparent course for another centurv, or for half the time, that monarchies would be demo- lished in the Old World, than that they would be established in the New, 102 DISCONTENT. SIR THOMAS MORE. Allow sometliing, my friend, for the contra- dictious principle in human nature ; and you may then see cause for supposing that the same tem- per of mind which makes men discontented under one form of government, is likely to produce the same effect under another. There are certain dispositions which arrange themselves, as if in- stinctively, on the querulous or railing side : like the beautiful birds of the Spice Islands, they must fly against the wind, from whatever quarter it may blow. Such men will be royalists in Ame- rica, for the same reasons which make them republicans in England, France, and Germany. A lawyer will argue with the whole force of his intellect and his lungs upon a much feebler case than may be made out in favour of either form ; they may therefore easily persuade themselves that their opinions are built upon conviction, when in reality the root of the matter is to be found in a contentious humour, in the love of display, in the pleasure of opposition, and in that spirit of self-complacency, wherewith men^ espe- cially young men, are liable to be possessed, when they think themselves advanced in know- ledge, and in liberality, beyond the institutions of their country. There are weeds which never show themselves in the wilderness, where the DISCONTENT. 103 forest overshadows, or the brake chokes them with its stronger growth ; but they spring up in the garden and the cultivated field, and become rank and noxious, in consequence of the very labour which man hath bestowed in preparino- and manuring the ground. So it is with subjects such as these : they are most numerous, where there is most freedom ; . . of such discontent, therefore, there will be as much in the United States as in England. MONTESINOS. But it has not the means of acting there with equal force. There is no metropolis* in the United States, no London, or Paris, no heart of the political body; nor can there be one while the federal system continues. That system re- sembles the banyan tree ; its branches as they extend send down shoots, and form for themselves new trunks. An American poet might thus * ' There can hardly,' says Hobbes, (Behemoth, Mor. and Pol. Works, p. 549, ed. 1750,) ' arise a long and dangerous ' rebellion, that has not some such overgrown city (as London), ' with an army or two in its belly, to foment it.' On the other hand the historian Niebuhr remarks, that unity is what ' the ' nations of antiquity never attained, except by means of a ' predominant capital.' (Hare and Tljirhvall's Trans, vol. i. p. 87.) There is no probability that any such capital will be formed in the United States: . . by it their constitution would be endangered, . . but can their union be maintained without one ? 104 UNITED STATES. typify it ; and if he looked to the emblem only, he might say that, in proportion to its extension its strength must be increased, and its continu- ance secured ; for the storm cannot uproot it, and there is no single life which the woodman can destroy. SIR THOMAS MORE. . Follow the emblem, and you will find that the banyan has no privilege of indestructibility. It may be consumed by fire ; and though it cannot be thrown down by a tempest, it may be shattered by it, and its polyped unity destroyed. MONTESINOS. Perhaps the truth may be, that republics, when once established, although more turbulent than monarchical states, are more stable ; and one cause for this may be, tliat where any end is in view which concerns their advantage, or their security, they are less scrupulous concerning the means. The more you divide responsibility, tlic less of it, morally as well as legally, will each of the persons among whom it is divided take unto himself. There is an esprit dc corps, by whicli the point of honour is maintained at a high standard ; but there is no corporate conscience. And men who act in bodies, it matters not whe- ther large or small, . . mobs, senates, or cabinets^ , . will, without hesitation, take their share in UNITED STATES. 105 measures, which^ if proposed to any one of them as an individual, would make him reply with the Syrian, ' Am I a dog, that I should do this thing ? ' If governments are to be appreciated by their stability, the Venetian should seem to have been the best that has ever been known in Europe. So it was esteemed by our republicans of the seventeenth century : yet if there be one govern- ment that has been systematically conducted upon more abominable principles than all others, it is that of the Republic of Venice. SIR THOMAS MORE. And, therefore, Montesinos, it has fallen ! Had Venice possessed the moral strength of Switzer- land, it would not indeed have been more secure than the Swiss Cantons were found to be ao-ainst such a military force as that of the French Re- public; but the general feeling of Europe would have called for its restoration, and the shameless iniquity of its transfer, from the robber to the receiver, could not have been sanctioned in oppo- sition to that feelingf. All things are always in change : and the example of Venice may show that, in a state where external mutation is least apparent, the process of internal decay may be going on the more surely and irremediably. 106 UNITED STATES. MONTESINOS. But in the United States of America, however the affectation of opposition, and the love of dis- play, may make a certain number of persons disparage the government which it is their duty to obey and to uphold, it is not the interest of any party or sect to attempt its overthrow. SIR THOMAS MORE. He who maintains that men are best directed by a sense of their own interest, should be pre- pared to show that they always know what their own interests really are. The sense of duty is more influential in good men ; envy, hatred, and malice, in wicked ones ; prejudice in many, su- perstition in more, passion* in most men. If governments understood their interest, would there be wars in the world ? if individuals under- stood f it, would there be wickedness? It is true that there is nothing to pull down in America ; no temple for Erostratus to destroy. * ' Interest,' said Glover the Poet, ' is not the predominant ' ruler of mankind. The few, indeed, are under that frigid ' influence ; but the many are governed by passion.' — Parlia- mentary Historij, vol. xviii. p. 477. t That good man, Louis Buonaparte, says, ' il est bein con,' * sola/it de songer que Vinteret real des individus et des gouvenie- ^ metis s' accorde parfaitejne?it avec la morale; que le droit ' chcmin est non seulemeni les plus court, mais encore le meil- ^ leur ; qu'enfiti la prosperity et le 2}erfcctio?incjnent de la UNITED STATES. 107 But the very levelness of the political platform may excite in some Pharaoh the ambition of constructing a pyramid upon it. Ambition, even if it be not the besetting sin of republics more than of monarchies, acts in them, when once they are possessed by it, with greater force, and has fewer obstacles in its course. But so surely as ambition shall introduce a military spirit, the cradle will be made ready for an Imperator. Anarchy has a natural tendency to the same crisis ; and in the new states what is to preserve the people from it? No provision is made for their religious instruction ; they are left to take up at their choice with fanaticism, or unbelief; . . both existing there in such hideous forms, that it may almost be doubted which is most destructive to human happiness. In those states little more respect is paid to law than to gospel : as among the Jews when there was no king in Israel, every man does that which is right in his own eyes. A weak government cannot enforce obedience at a distance : a strong one cannot exist without establishments which the American people will not willingly support. Even in the best esta- * soci'ete sont inseparables.' — Documens Historiques sur la HoUande, t. ii. p. 64. But it is Christianity alone that can bring about tliis un- provement. 108 UNITED STATES. blislied states, there is nothing- which supplies, or can supply, the place of loyalty*; and through- out the wliole union, the principle of religious obedience, which is the cement of political society. 18 wanting-. * ' Affection,' says Dr. Dwiglit, ' has for its proper object ' intelligent beings. The fewer tliese are, and the longer they ' are regarded with affection, tlie more intense and rivetted the ' affection becomes. The great officers of this state (Connec- * ticut) are few, and their continuance in office is usually long. ' Hence they are customarily regarded by their fellow-citizens ' with no small degree of respect and personal attachment. ' Government in tlieir hands is felt to be the government of 'friends; and the attachment to the men is naturally asso- ' ciated with their measures. ' The whole force of this affection does not, I confess, exist ' even here. For its entire efficacy we must look to a mo- ' narchy, army, or navy. The ruler here being a single object, ' concentres the whole regard of the mind ; and if an amiable ' and worthy man, faithfully and wisely discharging the duties ' of his oflice, may exert an influence over those whom lie ' governs next to magical. Of the benefits to which this ' powerful principle gives birth, free governments ought, in ' every safe way, to avail themselves. A doctrine, a consti- ' tution, or even an abstract term, may serve as a watcliword ' of party, a torch of enthusiasm, or an idol of occasional ar- ' dour. But there is no permanent earthly object of affection, ' exce})t man ; and, witliout such affection, there is reason to ' fear that no free government can long exist in safety and ' peace.' — Travels in New England and New York, vol, i. p. 262, (American edition.) UNITED STATES. lOD MONTESINOS. They will tell you that none is needed for the Cyclopean walls of a republican edifice. And, alas ! it may be feared that there is as little of that cement here. SIR THOMAS MORE. Your fathers were not sparing- of it when they laid the foundation, and raised the superstruc- ture : . . if their sons have suffered it to be picked out, let them beware of wind and weather ! Governments are held together either by force, or by the attachment of the people to their in- stitutions. Despotism begins generally in the choice, or willing acquiescence of the people, when they are weary of anarchy, and ask only for protection and repose. It is thus welcomed as the remedy for present evils; and when its own evil consequences begin to act, it is then upheld by force, and by the habit of obedience which force produces, a habit which frequently survives the power that generated it. But the willing obedience of a free people rests either on a principle of duty, as by religion enjoined, or upon general prosperity ; that is to say, a con- dition of society in which the great body of the population shall be contented with their lot, and no such grievances, or discrepancies of opinion, shall exist, as to excite in any considerable part 110 UNITED STATES. of tliem a desire for clianofe. We will hereafter inquire how far these kingdoms may be deemed secure upon either of these grounds. In America the principle of religious obedience is not acknow- ledged ; obedience, therefore, will be paid there no longer than it may be thought convenient to pay it. And if a province remote from the seat of the central, or rather of the general govern- ment, should choose to separate itself from the confederacy, the elder states, in which the strength * and intelligence and virtue of the union are chiefly to be found, would find them- selves, should they attempt to maintain the con- nection by force, much in the same kind of situation with respect to the new Independents, that the Mother Country was placed in towards them, as to the difficulties of the contest. MONTESINOS. The maxim of the first French Revolutionists might again have its season of triumph : for in * In 1810 ' two-fiftlis of tlie white population of the Ameri- ' can Republic, its only real strength, were included in the ' northern states (New York and New England). Of these ' two-fifths, 2,350,000 occupy in a solid column a territory of ' less than 100,000 square miles; while the remaining three- ' fifths are spread over a surface of more than a million.' — Dwight's Travels in New England and New York, vol. i. J). 20. (American Edition.) UNITED STATES. Ill sucli a case it would be found practically true tliat, for a state to be independent, it is sufficient that it wills it. SIR THOMAS MORE. But no sucli change could be brought about without bringing some popular leader conspi- cuously forward ; and were he to obtain military reputation, monarchy might naturally arise, as it has in so many former instances arisen. It is not to be supposed that the same country should produce a second Washington. In any war, foreign or domestic, a successful Commander would be more dangerous in America, than he was ever deemed to be in the most jealous ages of the Roman republic, or of the Athenian democracy. The Americans are an ambitious people, more ambitious than any other existing nation, . . the French, possibly, excepted. A General who should conquer Quebec for them, or take possession of Mexico, might pass from the Presidency to the Throne with as little oppo- sition as Buonaparte, when he exchanged the title of Consul for that of Emperor, found from legislators who had sworn eternal hatred to mo- narchy. The change is easier from republicanism to monarchy in America, than from monarchy to republicanism in any of the European kingdoms, even those wherein there has been the most ila- 112 UNITED STATES. grant and pernicious misgovernment. A revolu- tionary party would have less danger to incur, less resistance to encounter, and greater objects of ambition to incite it. MONTESINOS. But there is no appearance of any disposition to such a change. The foundations of govern- ment in that country have not been undermined. SIR THOMAS MORE. There are none to undermine. MONTESINOS, All changes in society, even when indisputably for the better, (and this were far from being so,) are calamitous to the Q-eneration which is fated to pass through them : such only are to be desired as may be effected by the course of progressive improvement, gradually felt rather in the results than in the operation. I know not that such a revolution in America would eventually be for the welfare of the American people ; immediately it would, beyond all doubt, be for their misfor- tune, elevating the turbulent and the daring, and sacrificing to their ambition the peace and hap- piness of the community. Too much of this has already been seen in this my generation ! They who lived (if any were then living) when the great convulsions of this planet, Neptunian or Vulcanian, were going on, arc less to be pitied PROGRESS OF GOVERNMENT. 113 than those who are involved in the cataclasms of the moral and social w^orld, inasmuch as it is more tolerable to suffer under the dispensations of nature, than the infliction of man. They were spared also from the foresight of evil, and from participating in the errors, the ill passions, and the crimes, which, in the revolutions of society, bring indiscriminating destruction upon the inno- cent and the guilty. SIR THOMAS MORE. All governments, ancient and modern, have undergone such convulsions before the different orders of which they were composed settled each in its proper place. In modern history you have the strus'O'le between the Civil and Ecclesiastical powers, and that between the Crown and the Nobles, the Papacy trimming between them, and siding with one or the other, as might best seem to promote its own haughty pretensions. These continvied for some ages. Then came the contest between the Crown and the third estate, or the people properly so called. Take heed lest there be another, and a more tremendous one, at hand, between the Government and the Populace, . . more doubtful in its issue, and whatever that may be, more dreadful in its course, more fatal in its consequences ! VOL. II. I 114 PUBLIC OPINION. MONTESINOS. Omnino res in ancipiti est, et bene quod nondiim in prfecipiti ! * First the Sword governs ; then the Laws ; next in succession is the Government of Public Opinion. To this we are coming. Ah-eady its claims are openly and boldly ad- vanced, . . timidly, and therefore feebly, resisted ! SIR THOMAS MORE. Say, rather, that its reign has begun. And to hope for tranquillity under it, is like putting to sea with a persuasion that, let the winds rage as they may, and blow from whatever quarter, they will have no action upon the waves ! MONTESINOS. The more loudlyf and confidently Public Opi- nion is expressed, with the more reason ought it always to be distrusted! The more powerful it becomes, the more easily is it misled, and the more are its predominance and its tyranny to be dreaded. SIR THOMAS MORE. The more resolutely, therefore, ought its usur- pation to be resisted. * Scaliger. t ' The best and surest way,' said Sir Benjamin Riulyard, ' to dispel darkness and tlie deeds tliercof, is to let in light. ' We say that day breaks, but no man ever heard the voice of ' it. God comes in the slill voice.' — Rushvvorth. REVOLUTIONISTS. 115 MONTESINOS. But for tliis, earnestness and energy are want- ing. Public life seems now to be the stage Where Hope and Youth shall ruin Fear and Age !* It was Cassandra's miserable curse to pro- phecy truly, but always to unheeding, unbeliev- ing ears. There are those among us who have in like manner a strono- and distinct foresig-ht of the evils which are impending, but who await the course of events in silence and resignation, and spare themselves the pain of what they deem (sinfully as respects themselves, if not erringly as regards others) a useless exertion. On the other hand, they who mislead, and they who are misled, have confidence and intrepidity on their side. It is a true saying of Bishop Taylor's, and not less applicable to political than to religious opinions, that ' men are most confident of those ' articles which they can so little prove, that ' they never made questions of them.' Their zeal is in proportion to their confidence. Danton, one of the boldest and bloodiest demaooo-ues that ever excited a deluded populace to acts of atro- city and madness, declared, in the successful part of his career, that the principle of revolutionary * Lord Brooke. I 2 116 THE PRESS. action was audacity in tins, audacity in tliat, audacity in everything. Be bold, be bold, and everywhere be bold I* Most faithfully is that maxim followed, by all the members of the Unholy Alliance, from the haughtiest of those whom Johnson called ' our bottomless Whigs,' to the lowest son of profli- gacy and misfortune, who in default of other occupation as Roger North says, ' takes unto the * treason trade.' ' To everything there is a sea- ' son,' saith the Preacher ; and these men imagine that their season is come : that this is the time for them * to rend and to break down, and to ' pluck up that which is planted ; and to get and ' to keep.' SIR THOMAS MORE. There was an age during which the Pulpit supplied, and in no inadequate degree, the place of the press, in expressing public opinion, and in exciting and directing it. The Press at this day, though its efforts throughout Christendom were directed to one object, could not produce so powerful, and simultaneous a commotion, as was raised by the Preachers of the first Crusade. That movement coincided with the wishes of the rulers and the temper of the people. But France, * Faery Queen. THE PRESS. 117 Scotland, and England, have experienced what the tyranny of the Pulpit is, the former during the League, the two latter during the Covenant, and the one being as much the reproach of Pro- testantism as the other is of the Romish Church. Widely as the professions of faith differed, the principle in both confederacies was the same, and it was the same spirit that influenced them. The Press is more difhcultly to be restrained ; it acts more continuously as well as more widely ; beware how you come under its tyranny ! — Nothing but good resulted to these kingdoms when that of the Pulpit was overthrown : but this can neither so effectually, nor so safely be put down. Of the many evils to which its abo- minable abuse must in sure consequence lead, if it be not firmly restrained in time, the ultimxate loss of its just and salutary freedom is one of the worst, and likely to be the most enduring. MONTESINOS. Even in its beginning it was found impossible to restrain it, though the severest means were tried. SIR THOMAS ]MORE. Trust me, Montesinos, when I tell you, that had its abuses proceeded from no other motives than sheer profligacy and the desire of gain, the Tudors would have curbed it to their heart's 118 THE PRESS. content, and with the cordial acquiescence of the nation. It was put in action against tlie greatest of that line by enthusiasm, and religious faction. The men, therefore, whom it was ne- cessary to restrain or to punish, were persons who under a fatal but invincible mispersuasion, deemed it their duty to defy the laws, eluding them by every imaginable* artifice of conceal- ment so long as they could, and, when this was no longer possible, exulting over them, and going to execution, I will not say with the spirit of martyrs, for the meekness and the charity were wanting, but with the resolution of soldiers who advanced to meet death in the breach. MONTESINOS. The punishment in their case was proportioned to the apprehended and intended consequences of the offence, not to the pravity of the offender. Human laws, though necessarily imperfect, are * Ben Jonson describes, in his lively manner, the ojierations of a libellous press in liis days. One in his printer in disguise, and kecj)3 His press in a hollow tree, where to conceal him He works by glow-worm light ; tlie moon's too open. The other zealous rag is the compositor, Who, in an angle where the ants inhabit, (The emblems of his labours) will sit curl'd Whole days and nights, and work his eyes out for him. Vol. viii. p. 10. LAWS. 1 1 9 more imperfect than of necessity they must be ; but whenever they err, or are commonly thouo-ht to err, on the side of severity, they occasion a re-action against themselves. The criminal who suffers under a sentence heavier than his crime, is thereby made an object of compassion ; and forthwith his actual criminality is forgiven, or overlooked. This is not because the eye* of pity sees things through a delusive medium, but because there is in us an instinctive principle which rises against injustice ; and laws not only fail in efficacy, but are always in some degree injurious, if they are not in accord with the sense of right and wrong, . . if they have not the sanc- U'On of natural justice, . . if they do not rest upon that primal and paramount law which God has implanted in the heart of man. SIR THOMAS MORE. Lawcraft, if not a twin-fiend with Priestcraft, is an imp of the same stock, and perhaps the worser devil of the two. There may be other professions which harden the heart as much, but * The afflicted ne'er want praises. Oh how false Doth the eye of Pity see ! The only way To make the foul seem gracious, is to be Within the ken of death. He that erewhile Would have been thought a monster, being now Condemned to die, is thought a hero. Cartwright. The Royal Slave. 120 PARLIAMENT. none which tend so greatly to corrupt the sin- cerity, to vitiate the moral sense, and to sophis- ticate the understanding. But this is wandering from the path. To return^ therefore, to the stile where we came over ; . . Public opinion has in this country arrogated and obtained a greater degree of authority than is consistent with the public weal. It is deferred to and followed by those wdiose duty it is to control it within just bounds, to see that it is duly instructed, and to guide it. This usurpation has been favoured by the chano;es which have been made in the fabric of your government, . . changes by which both Houses of Parliament have been altered in their constitution, and both essentially for the worse. Some injury was done by the Unions with Scot- land and with Ireland. Both were expedient and necessary measures ; but they introduced into your legislature too large an admixture of persons who had not been trained up in English habits and feelings. This, you will reply, is an inci- dental evil, inseparable from a great good ; but the increase of numbers is an uncompensated evil, making the lower House of Parliament resemble a popular assembly*, rather than a legislative body. * ' For my part,* said Governor Jolinstono, spcakiiiL,-- in Parliament upon the disturbances in North America, ' 1 think PARLIAMENT. 121 MONTESINOS. The members are not too many for the actual business of the House. SIR THOMAS MORE. But they are far too many for its peculiar and proper business; much of the rest might as well, or better, be performed by a different machinery. If the House of Commons consisted at this time of half, or one-third of its present complement, every influential member would still be there : all who, by character, ability, station, and stake in the country, are entitled to a place. MONTESIXOS. This I believe. Cataline and Clodius would still have the same access ; but the entrance would not be so easy for Thersites and Scapin. SIR THOMAS MORE. The great additions which have been made to the peerage during the last half century have rendered this evil, great as in itself it is, much ' with Cardinal de Retz, that any number above one hundred is ' at best but a mere mob.' (Here the House felt the expres- sion as too strong.) ' It never could be my intention,' he proceeded, ' to apply the rule to tliis House, long trained in ' form and discipUne ; though sometimes there are doctrines ' and proceedings even here, that would surprize a stran"-cr ' into this belief.' — Pari. History, vol. xviii. p. 258. 122 PEERAGE. greater than it would otherwise have been. In- deed this modern practice, in whatever light it be considered, must be deemed impolitic. If it have not lessened the authority of the House of Peers, it has diminished the dignity of the peerage ; and in proportion as it has removed into that House from the Commons men of large property and corresponding influence, it has made room for persons to whom a voice in the mo- mentous concerns of legislation cannot so safely be entrusted. MONTESINOS. This has been one of the great errors of lat- ter times. Mr. Pitt* committed it to a great extent, and his successors have followed the ill example. * Sheridan, in the year 1797, toucliingin oneof his speeclies upon ' the lavish distribution of the peerage, asserted that no ' fewer than an hundred and sixty peers had been created since ' the commencement of the then existing administration.' He added, ' I once heard a member of this House say, that some ' persons were made peers wlio were not fitter for tluit honour ' than his groom ; but unfortunately for me, I cannot call ' upon that gentleman to verify that fact here, for — he is now ' made a peer himself.' — Parliamentary History, vol. xxxiii., p. 90. The Chinese have a law whereby ' oflicers of government ' arc not allowed to solicit hereditary honours.' It is a severe PEERAGE. 123 SIR THOMAS MORE. Cheap honours and cheap bread make other things cheap which cannot be held too dear. Continue to increase the peerage as you have increased it during the reign of George III., and the appellation of ' my Lord ' will not be worth much more to an Englishman's ear in his own country, than it is in France. MONTESINOS. The peers under George I. endeavoured to prevent this evil, in consequence of the notorious creation made in the preceding reign. They proposed, that instead of the sixteen elective peers for Scotland, twenty-five, with hereditary seats, should be named for that kingdom ; that not more than six should be added to the then existing* number of English peers, without pre- cedent right ; and that in those cases the peerage should be limited to the heirs-male, in the direct line. But the number was to be kept full as vacancies occurred. The Bill was rejected in one. ' When any officers of the civil department of govern- ' ment, who have not distinguished themselves by extraordinary ' and great services to the state, are recommended to the con- ' sideration of the emperor, as deserving of the highest here- ' ditary honours ; such officers, and those who recommend ' them, shall suffer death, by being beheaded, after remaining ' the usual period in prison.' — Penal Laws of China, p. 52. * It was at that time (1719) 178. 124 PEERAGE. the lower House. It was unpopular, . . some pains having been taken to render it so. Steele wrote and spoke against it with effect ; and Wal- pole opposed it upon the grounds that it dimi- nished the king's prerogative, gave to the aristo- cracy a preponderating power in the state, and took away from the people one of the most power- ful incentives to public virtue. That objection might easily have been removed by making an exception for great public services ; it was, how- ever, more specious than solid, for the course of nature occasions more vacancies than could be filled up in ordinary, or even in extraordinary times, by claimants upon that score. But the Bill, as it was brought forward, had an invidious appearance, and was therefore obnoxious to po- pular objections of that kind which can with most difficulty be overcome, because they appeal to prejudice and passion. SIR THOMAS MORE. The evil which it was intended thus to obviate, - is one which may better be guarded against by usage resulting from clear views of policy, than by a positive statute. MONTESINOS. Usage unfortunately sanctions the abuse, so- vereigns having injudiciously manifested their favour in this way, and ministers having been PEERAGE. 125 accustomed to gratify their private friends, and strengthen themselves by promotions otherwise as inexplicable as uncalled for. True it is that the error was committed by princes more glaringly in earlier times, and in weak reigns. It was the special weakness of James I., who is otherwise generally entitled to the praise of sagacity, and always of good intentions. The ministerial abuse is of later growth. SIR THOMAS MORE. There is a manifest unfitness in ennobling men who have no other pretensions than what they derive from their wealth ; and there is an equal unfitness, and eventually a greater mis- chief, in conferring the peerage, when it is necessary to annex a pension for supporting it ; for permanent property, adequate to his rank, ought to be the indispensable qualification for an hereditary legislator. But there are cases against which the door never should be closed ; and whenever they occur, a sum equivalent to the value of the pension should be granted, and vested in an entailed estate. New nobility has in such cases a noble origin, far worthier indeed than that in which the oldest can have originated. And although great names may descend to un- worthy representatives, the name which thus becomes a reproach to the bearer serves not the 126 PEERAGE. less for a national example, and a memorial of national gratitude. Regarding- them as a body, your nobles are far from a degenerate race ; that they should not be so, is some proof of the healthiness of your institutions, and of the strength, also, of the British character, consider- ing how dangerous a great inheritance is to man's moral nature under any circumstances. MOXTESIXOS. They have long been more fortunately circum- stanced than the nobility of other countries ; having in the settlement of our political elements taken just that position which was safest for themselves, and most conducive to the preserva- tion and stability of the general order, SIR THOMAS MORE. One considerable advantage they possessed in early times. For after the Normans and Saxons were formed into one nation, a kindlier feeling- prevailed between the nobles and the people in this kingdom, than in France, or the Low Countries, or Germany. When the strength of the English armies lay in their archers, the French, well as they knew, and severely as they had been made to feel this, were nevertheless afraid to let the same class of men be trained to the use ol the same weapons. PEERAGE. 127 MONTESINOS. Our peers are fortunate in liaving retained none of tliose invidious and odious privileges which, wherever they are retained, must en- danger the existence of the privileged order. The Court of Honour was too irrational, as well as too vexatious and obnoxious, to be re-esta- blished at the Restoration; and scandalum mao-- nation has become as obsolete an offence as the sin of witchcraft. That unchristian pride of caste, which is still found in some parts of the continent, is. Heaven be praised ! as little to be discovered here, as the physical degeneracy which in other parts, where it is aided by dispensa- tions for unnatural marriages, it has visibly pro- duced. We pass for a proud nation among our neighbours, because they understand our man- ners as little' as we accommodate ourselves to theirs : but pride is not one of our national vices. Our field of society is in a state of cultivation which will not allow that weed to grow. The growth of commercial wealth, the increase of our naval and military establishments, and the pro- gress of education among the middle orders, have shaded the gradations of rank so imper- ceptibly into each other, that in this respect the social order has never been more happily constituted anywhere than it is here at this time. 128 PEERAGE. SIR THOMAS MORE. Yet, Montesinos, there may be danger, lest by the frequency of undeserved promotions to the peerage, the order itself should not merely lose something in public opinion, but some- thino- also of what ous-ht to be its distinctive character, and by which alone its hold on public opinion can be maintained. There is a feeling of nobility which becomes a virtuous principle of action, and justifies the name of noble. That feeling, when it is fostered by national manners, survives under circumstances of political and intellectual degradation, and even of physical degeneracy, the standard of honour being kept to its mark, when other things have sunk. The faster you create peers, (always excepting those cases in which the coronet has been won, . . for then the root is planted,) the less will there be of this, and the greater likelihood that mere haughtiness may grow up in its place. MONTESINOS. There are ways of forcing new wine, (as well as of encrusting new bottles,) by which it may acquire something like the ripeness, and obtain the full market price, of old. The heralds, if they cannot find a coat for Wealth, can furnish one, and produce a genealogy as long and as PEERAGE. 129 imposing as if it were authentic. But the feel- ing of nobility can neither be created, nor pur- chased. There is indeed a nobility of Nature's own making, which may sometimes be seen in the lowest walks of life, just as that which is conventional may be found cased in a coarse clay, fit only for vessels of dishonour. Upon such a native temperament of mind and body this feeling grows best, as fruits acquire their finest quality when grafted upon a wild stock of tlieir own kind. But, without this advantage, it is producible by culture : and in one who, be- ing capable of understanding it, has been made to understand how large a debt he owes to his ancestors, and how deeply in consequence he stands bound to his posterity and his country, that knowledge, which may ennoble his youth and dignify his manhood, brings forth in de- clining life a melancholy sentiment, a sad wis- dom, remote from pride, and indeed partaking of humility. Pride is a weed which grows more rankly on the dunghill of riches, than in the hot-bed of rank. But it is not the weed of a British soil. SIR THOMAS MORE. Look to your words, my mortal friend ! Is it your formed opinion that the sin of pride is less prevalent in England than in other countries? VOL. II. K 130 PRIDE OF RANK. or was the assertion one of those which, when they have been made hastily, ought sometimes to be questioned at leisure ? MONTESINOS. We have an author indeed who says that — ' Pride and Strife are natives of our soil, ' Freeholders here.' I would call him a poet if he had often expressed himself in verse so well. But Defoe had a per- verse pleasure in disparaging his countrymen. One part of the reproach, which he thus brings against them, is certainly ill-founded ; for though the English are unhappily a divided nation, and at all times more or less disturbed by factions, they are not a quarrelsome people. A¥hether the other charge can or cannot be better sup- ported, I may at least affirm, that the most of- fensive manifestations of pride have never been known among us. Neither our laws, customs, nor religion, recognize left-handed marriages : . . here if cloth of gold be matched with cloth of frieze, all inequality is done away by the mar- riage bond, and husband and wife are one in the eyes of man, as they are in the sight of Heaven. Neither are we chargeable with the guilt of con- verting religion into an instrument of oppression, and devoting girls from their childhood to impri- sonment for life in a nunnery, that the wealth of PRIDE OF RANK. 131 the family may not be impaired by portioning- them suitably in marriage, nor the family pride wounded by seeing them marry beneath their birth. For this indeed we are beholden to the Reformation, without which there mio-ht have been as many hard hearts found here as among- our neighbours. But even the formalities of pride are not encouraged by our manners, . . not even tolerated by them. During no age of our history could the common form of greeting among" the members of what is called a good family, have been as it was in a part of the North, ' Welcome, proud Cousins * ! ' Nor have our ' venerable ancient song-enditers ' ever, like the old Danish poets, applied that epithet to a dam- sel otherwise than as conveying a reproach. SIR THOMAS MORE. Beware how you allow words to pass with you for more than they are worth, and bear in mind what alteration is sometimes produced in their current value by the course of time. Re- member also, that in countries, where the dis- tinctions of ranks are jealously observed and tenaciously maintained, there prevails, neverthe- less, between master and servant an affability on the one side, and an attachment on the other, . , * Niebuhr's History of Eomc, N. 732. K 2 132 FAMILY FEELING. a freedom and a familiarity wliich bring tliem into kindlier sympathies than commonly exist between persons who stand in that relation to each other in Eno-land or in America. Ancient and acknowledged privileges have had in Euro- pean society the effect of disarming pride, . . and in many instances of modifying it or transmuting it into a virtue. The representative of an old family, who resides on the lands of his ancestors, and sees around him their portraits in his man- sion, and their tombs in his parish church, is surrounded by hereditary attachments ; he suc- ceeds to their principles, and feelings, and duties, as part of his inheritance, not less than to their honours and their wealth ; as the Spa- niards say bcbio obligaciones hidcdgas en la sangre, y la leche; the old tenants are as precious to him as the old trees on his estate, and the domestics have, as the name ought to imply, their home and resting-place in his service. There is little of this remainino- in Eno-land, and all thinsfs are tending to wear out the little which is left. Less patronage is shown, because less may be wanted, or desired, or perhaps deserved ; and yet the intellectual humility that courted patronage, and even abased itself sometimes in courting it, was better than that sort of independence which de- spises and defies it. You have in England i\ PRIDE OF INDEPENDENCE. 133 great deal of what may more truly be called the pride than the spirit of independence : and this pride, and the pride of wealth, and the pride of rank, act upon and provoke each other. There is less of the latter than of the others, . . much less ; and of the three kindred yet hostile vices, it is the least offensive ; the pride of indepen- dence is the most so, because it is suspicious, irritable, and ready to act aggressively upon the slightest pretext, or imaginary provocation. MONTESIXOS. There is more of this in America than in Eng- land. It is a surly, ill-conditioned spirit, partak- ing less of pride than of envy, which is perhaps the commonest of all sins. Woe to the country wherein, during any suspension of the laws, or subversion of order, such a spirit of independence should attain the ascendency ! It would speedily show itself to be as intolerant of the real and tangible privileges of wealth as of nobility ; nor of these alone ; natural advantages, all such as are not merely animal, become in such times as odious as artificial ones, and the levelling prin- ciple having once acquired ascendency, renews the work of Saturn, wlio with narrow spite Mowed clown tlie fat, and let the lean ears spring. Lord Brooke. 134 PRIDE OF INDEPENDENCE. When the poor clerk of Chatham thanked God for having been so well brought up that he could write his name, Jack Cade's mob condemned him by acclamation to be hanged with his pen and iukliorn about his neck, as one who had confessed himself a villain and a traitor. Jack Cade's declaration was. We will not leave one lord, one gentleman ; Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon ! and this principle was so far carried into effect during the paroxysms of revolutionary madness in France, that personal cleanliness was consi- dered a mark of incivism, and clean linen became a crime. SIR THOMAS MORE. You are speaking of insane times : for like as governments have their seasons of decrepitude and dotage, so may it appear that nations have their accesses of insanity and raging madness. With you such fits have, since the Restoration, served rather to disgrace the nation hitherto, than seriously to disturb its peace, or endanger its safety. But the slow and silent changes of society, those which work unperceived till they are felt in their effects, have, wliile they facili- tated the acquisition of rank and its attendant privileges, rendered its influence less beneficial. It is an incidental evil arising from your laws of * FORSAKEN MANSIONS. 135 inheritance . . light when compared with the evils which result from the opposite system of gavel- kind, yet in itself not inconsiderable. But when by marriage, or descent, distant estates are brought into the possession of one lord, old mansions fall to decay, old hearths grow cold, and hereditary attachments wither ; the beneficent presence which should invigorate them being withdrawn The proprietor may, perhaps, occasionally visi the seat of his ancestors ; the bells then ring for his arrival, and there is a short season of revelr and joy : but the joy of former times was differen in character and kind ; the wholesome zest, the raciness, the vivifying spirit, have departed. Such visits are few, and with long intervals be- tween. The relation between land-owner and land-occupier has undergone an unkindly altera- tion : the bond of attachment is broken; there is no longer on one part the generous bounty which, like mercy, is ' twice blest,' and which calls forth on the other a grateful, and honest, and confiding dependence . . a natural and a healthy state for the heart of man, however it may be regarded in your philosophy ! And when fine properties are dissipated by vice or folly, and estates pass in consequence, by purchase, from one owner to another, the tenant has little to regret in the transfer, and less to apprehend from it, his rent 136 FORSAKEN MANSIONS. having already been screwed to tlie sticking- place. MONTESINOS. There is something less melancholy in a ruined mansion, than in one which, being deserted as a residence, and not condemned to dilapidation, is just preserved from decay ; . . where the house- keeper has to see that light and air may enter the forsaken apartments, and to keep them in such a state, swept and garnished, as might in- vite thither the ghosts of their old possessors, . . if ghosts were as unhappy as Homer represents them, or if they were doomed to do penance in what had been the scenes of their prosperity and pride. If the last of the Cliffords in these northern parts had abused her gifts of fortune, one might fancy that her troubled spirit would haunt the mournful chambers of Appleby and Skipton on spectral days of humiliation ; and turn from these for relief to other castles which she used to gladden with her presence, but amid whose ruins now Tlie gadding bramble liangs lier purple fruit. And the green lizard and the gilded newt Lead unmolested lives, and die of age. TForcUu'orlh. The noble-minded lady set over the gates oi those castles which she restored, this text*; ' Isaiah Iviii. 12. COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE. IST* They that shall be of thee shall build the old ' waste places ; thou sh alt raise up the founda- * tions of many generations ; and thou shalt be * called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of ' paths to dwell in.' Yet her own grandson de- molished three of the castles which she, with a religious as well as an ancestral feeling, had re- paired ! and in each of which, during her resi- dence, ' every Monday morning, she caused ten ' shillings to be distributed among twenty poor ' householders of that place, besides the daily ' alms which she gave at her gates to all that ' came.' The Duchess of Marlborough (Sarah, who, with all her faults, will ever be as emphati- cally the Duchess of that name, as her glorious husband will be the Duke) said in her old age, ' there would be this great happiness in death, ' that one shall never hear any more of anything ' they do in this world.' It might have troubled the Countess of Pembroke in heaven, if she could have heard that the works upon which she prided herself with so just and noble a feeling, had been demolished, . . and by whom. If amid the ruins of Brougham Castle I were to meet one of those spectres Whose walking fear to otliers is, And to tliemselves a woe. I should at once apprehend whose spirit it must 138 COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE. be, and tliat she was come tliitlier to regard mournfully and indignantly tlie site of that cham- ber in which her noble father* was born, and her blessed mother died. SIR THOMAS MORE. Upon the supposition that we walk for pe- * Words wliich the Countess never failed to repeat in her Journal, when she speaks of coming to take up her residence in that apartment. ' And in this settled abode of mine,' says the Countess (writing A.D. 1651), ' in these three ancient houses of my ' inheritance, Appleby Castle and Brougham Castle in West- ' moreland, and Skipton Castle or House in Craven, I do more ' and more fall in love with the contentment and innocent plea- ' sures of a country life ; which humour of mine I do W'ish with ' all my heart (if it be the will of Almighty God) may be con- ' ferred on my posterity that are to succeed me in these places ; ' for a wise body ought to make their own homes the place of ' self- fruition, and the comfortablest part of tlieir life. But tliis ' must be left to a succeeding Providence, for none can tell ' what shall come after them ; but to invite them to it, that say- ' ing in the 16tli of Proverbs, verses 5, 6, 7 and 8, may be fitly ' ap])licd : " The lot is fallen to me in a pleasant place : I have ' a fair heritage." And I may truly say that verse, * From many noble progenitors I hold ' Transmitted lands, castles and honours which they swayed of old.' Whether these verses are her own composition, or whether she only remembered, and elongated, and niis-metcred thorn, they show that the sweet poet who was lier tutor had not tliought it necessary to' give her any lessons in the art of poetry. PEERAGE. 139 nance, you miglit, perhaps, conclude that it is part of my punishment to converse with you. MOXTESINOS. I might well have supposed so. Sir Thomas, had you not at the commencement of these visits assigned a motive for them more flattering to myself. Were you sent upon earth to do penance, methinks, of all your earthly haunts, the Court of Chancery* would be the fittest place. SIR THOMAS MORE. But there I should be better off than the suitors, for it would be only purgatory to me ; whereas they have cause enough to look upon it as a place from whence nulla est redemptio for them. MONTESIlSrOS. Dodd, the Roman Catholic historian, (if to have written what he denominates a history may entitle a man to that designation,) says that a * Sir Ttiomas More, when he was Chancellor, ' dispatched ' more causes in shorter space than were wont to be in many ' years before or since. For once he sate when there was no ' man or matter to be heard ; this he caused to be enrolled in ' public acts of that Court. It is strange to those that know ' there have been causes there depending some dozen years. ' And there be so many things there heard, that it will be a rare • tiling to hear the like again.' Dr. Wordsworth's Ecclesiastic Biography, \o]. ii. p. 96 140 PEERAGR. descendent of yours, in Hertfordshire, had pre- served what he is pleased to call one of your chops, till the year 1G42. Even the Court of Chancery, methinks, might have more attractions for you than the oratory wherein this relic may be still preserved. SIR THOMAS MORE. Truly my very ghost would be chap-fallen at beholding an instance of so sad and so debasing a superstition. But to return once more to the stile where we came over : I was observing that your nobles are not a degenerate race ; exceptions there are and must be, seeing that omne genus hominum habet sinim vulgifs ; but the high-mindedness which ought to characterise the order, is still found in it. And although, upon certain sub- jects, there must of necessity be more minute and practical knowledge in a popular assembly, where men of commercial habits are intermixed, yet upon graver matters, in which the great and permanent interests of the nation are concerned, as much information and as much ability are dis- played in the Upper as in the Lower House ; and a feeling of those interests which is more likely to retain its steadiness and strength, because it is not so liable to veer with the wind of popular opinion. But frec|uent promotions to the peerage PEERAGE. 1 4 1 must, in tlieir consequences, alter tlie character of both Houses, to the deterioration of both. Obviously they must lower the standard of the peerage. It was said of old, that gentility is nothing more than ancient riches : this cannot always be said of gentility in these days, nor indeed is it, when it really exists, anything the worse for its recent origin. But wealth ripens into generosity less easily than it rots* into wantonness and dissipation : and to promote men for mere favour or for paltry present interest, who have no other pretension than what wealth may be supposed to offer, what is this but to put honour at a price, and thereby to contami- nate it ? MOXTESINOS. More direct injury has been done to the House of Commons. When Mr. Pitt removed from thence so many of the great land-holders into the House of Lords, their place in the Commons was to be supplied, at best, with * The expression is from Sir George Mackenzie's Essay, (p. 337.) ' accumulated wealth rots into luxury.' The same truth is differently illustrated by a Spanish writer. 'Y de la tnanera que el agua estancia y rabahada, cria sapos y saban- dijaa, las riqvezas siiperjluas malas obras y inalos jje.nsa- mientos.' — Juan Ripol. Dialogo de Consiielo por le Expulsion de los Moriscos. Vamplona. 1614. 142 HOUSE OF COMMONS. men who had less of that influence which pro- perly belongs to property in a commonwealth constituted as is ours ; and room was made for men of a lower class and of a dang-erous de- scription, who, before the structure of Parlia- ment was thus . . . almost it may be said . . . re- volutionized, would never in the march of their ambition have approached its doors. Now al- though the House of Peers can derive no credit from Lord Cucumber, whose nobility has been raised in the hot-bed of wealth, nor from Earl Mushroom, Marquis Toadstool, and the rest of the fungus order, no such direct evil and ob- vious danQ;er arises from the unmerited eleva- tion of such persons, as from the admission into the Commons of men whose prototypes arc to be found in Cleon, and Cethegus, and Thersites and even Scapin. A notion, I know, prevails very generally among the members of that as- sembly, that there is no other place in which factious questions can be entertained with so little inconvenience from the discussion, nor where a demao;o2:ue can do so little harm : he would speedily find his level there, they say, and be put down by the good sense of the House. They rely upon its good sense, its dignity and its tone. But when I call to mind the derogation which that dignity so frequently HOUSE OF COMMONS. 143 endures in the conduct of its present members ; . . when I observe what passes for wit in that assembly, and what for wisdom ; . . what falla- cies pass undetected there, what absurdities are advanced and listened to, and applauded ; . . what confident mis-statements are hazarded in the fearlessness of ignorance and dupery ; . . what falsehoods are asserted in the hardihood of design, . . I cannot partake of this reliance. I cannot but think that there is no place in which a demagogue, well armed with impudence, would feel more conscious of the strength which au- dacity supplies ; nor where he could be so m.is- chievous and so dangerous. If the House failed to impose upon such a man by its tone, (and fail it would, if his own tone* were resolute,) I know not how it could curb a tonoue, that should enounce without disguise the most revo- lutionary intentions, and propose the most revo- lutionary measures for bringing them about, after the insults to authority, the scoffs at religion, and the incitements to rebellion, which have * ' Impudence in democratical assemblies does almost all ' that's done : 'tis tlie goddess of rhetoric and carries proof ' with it. For wliat ordinary man will not, from so great ' boldness of aflirmation, conclude there is gi'eat probability in ' the thing affirmed V — Hobbcs's Behemoth. 144 HOUSE OF COMMONS. at various times been uttered tliere with impu- nity, and sometimes without rebuke. They are mistaken who suppose, that want of condition in life, or even want of character in these days, woukl keep a man down in that House, if he had ability and courage. Courage he might dispense with, because where there is no personal danger, there is a brazen quality that may very well supply its place ; and in that quality such men are never deficient. And for ability, ' Do you think,' said Philip Skelton, ' the Devil ever sent a fool of his errand ?' SIR THOMAS MORE. A great deal of his work is done by fools, but it is when knaves direct or drive them. MONTESINOS. The miserable thing is when upright inten- tions are thus misguided ; when we see men with the worthiest feelings, and the most honour- able views, led astray by specious sophistry, because they have not been well grounded in the principles wherein they were brought up ; and because streno;th of mind is wanting- in them to perceive clearly what is right, or strength of character to act upon that perception steadily. And when weak men are once beguiled into a wrong course, the difficulty of reclaiming HOUSE OF COMMONS. 145 them is in proportion to tlieir weakness; for as our incomparable Soutli* says, ' he that re- ' covers a fool, must first unbefool him to that ' degree as to persuade him of his folly.' Alas, in any popular assembly it must needs be that the wise will not be ' so many as to make a fewf,' and in all such assemblies, instead of reasons being weighed, (for where should the balance be found, and who should hold it?) voices must be counted ; . . there is no better method, and yet in that, ' nihil '^ e.^ tarn imequale ' quam cequcditas ipsa ; nam cum sit impar pru- ' chntia, par omnium jus est.' It may have been otherwise in the days of Solomon, when the structure of society was simpler, human inte- rests were less tortuous and involved, and men lived under a Providence which manifested it- self to their grosser senses : but in these times there is more likely to be confusion than safety in a multitude of counsellors. SIR THOMAS MORE. Pursue that train of thought, and you will perceive that as the numbers in both Houses of Pai'liament have been increased, the constitu- tion of both has been proportionately impaired. Other of your institutions ought long since to * Vol. v., p. 157. t Jackson. + Pliny. VOL. II. L 146 HOUSE OF COMMONS. liave been enlarged,; that tliey might keep pace with the growing wants and claims of a growing population. But if the numbers in a delibera- tive assembly are increased beyond the con- venient sum, its proceedings retain less of the character of deliberation, and the assembly itself partakes of the heat and temper of a popular meetino'. MONTESINOS. In the Commons especially the alloy of num- bers has debased the old standard. The more numerous such an assembly is, the greater must be the proportion of men who have less preten- sions, whether natural or adventitious, to be entrusted with so momentous a charge as that of the national interests. SIR THOMAS MORE. This is a consideration which should be borne in mind, wherever old governments are to be improved, or colonies founded. But there is another evil which every increase of the peerage in its consequences increases. The younger sons of noble houses were formerly disposed of in comfortable abbeys, if they did not take the course of rapine in the bloodier ages of Europe, or of maritime adventure when the age of dis- covery arrived. They now form a class of men whose claims cannot be overlooked by a govern- NOBILITY. 147 ment which is carried on wholly by influence, and has no other means of maintaining itself. They are not indeed in this country, cither physically or intellectually, a degenerate class, (there are parts of Europe in which the two- fold degradation is apparent.) Luxury has not effeminated them, nor is it considered a point of honour for men of quality to hold learning in contempt, as it was in my days, among some of the Italians. MONTESINOS. I have heard however of a knight of Malta, (remembered at Lisbon in my youth) who used to say in his English, ' I tank my God dat I ' never in all my life read a book dat was ticJcer ' dan my turn.' Our young jidalgos resemble this Cavalleiro as little as they do the Circassian gentry, whose habit of life it was, according to Tavernier, to sit still, say little, and do nothing*. The wind of fashion and the tide of society have set in, both in a contrary direction ; and literary accomplishments are now considered as hardly less essential for persons of a certain rank in life, than it was for them formerly to be skilled in arms. They show themselves therefore, ge- * Ceux qui tiennent ]mrmi eux le rang de gentils-hommes, sont tout le jo%ir sans rien faire, demeurent assis, et parlent fort peu. — lib. iii. c. 12. L 2 148 NOBILITY. nerally speaking, as diligent and as ambitious in their youthful studies, as those of their compe- titors who have nothing but their attainments and themselves to trust to for their success in the world. SIR THOMAS MORE. This I was about to say when you interrupted me with your knight of Malta ; and to have re- marked in sequence, that notwithstanding this, there is a great inconvenience in multiplying a class of men, who, independently of personal qualifications or merits, have on the score of their influential connections pretensions for cm- ploy and promotion in the public service, which being, as they are, valid to a certain extent, are not easily withstood when pushed beyond that extent, as they so frequently must be. The injurious effect of this has been felt abroad and at home, in your army and navy, in your colonies, your diplomacy, and, . . worse than any where else, because the miserable consequences of an unfit appointment are there, though less imme- diately, more permanently felt, . . in your church establishment. MONTESIXOS. This inconvenience is surely part of the price which must be paid for the blessing of a govern- ment so balanced and so guarded, that we can NOBILITY. 149 neither, on the one hand, be oppressed by tlie reckless obstinacy of an arbitrary will ; nor on the other, hurried into disgraceful and iniquitous courses by the violence of popular counsels. SIR THOMAS MORE. It is so ; but it is also the reason why the French government has always been served by abler agents than yours. And though a price must necessarily be paid for what you rightly deem a blessing, there is no necessity that the price should be so large. A minister, before he swells the peerage for any other cause than that of great and manifest desert, should bear in mind that by so doing he weakens the government in the worst way, and is adding to a burden which clogs it more than the national debt. 150 COLLOQUY XIIL THE RIVER GRETA.— TRADE.— POPULATION.— COLONIES. Our Cumberland river Greta lias a shorter course than even its Yorkshire namesake. St. John's beck and the Glenderamaken take this name at their confluence, close by the bridge, three miles east of Keswick, on the Penrith road. The former issues from Leatheswater, in a beau- tiful sylvan spot, and proceeds by a not less beautiful course for some five miles through the vale from which it is called to the place of junc- tion. The latter, receiving the streams from Bowscale and Threlkeld tarns, brings with it the waters from the southern side of Blencathra. The Greta then flows toward Keswick ; receives on its way the Glcndcraterra first, . . which brings down tlic western waters of Blencathra, and those from Skiddaw forest, . . then the smaller stream from Nathdale ; makes a wide sweep behind the town, and joins the Dcrwent, under Derwent Hill, about a quarter of a mile from, the town, and perhaps half that distance from the place where that river flows out of the lake; but THE RIVER GRETA. 151 when swollen above its banks, it takes a shorter line, and enters Derwentwater. The Yorkshire stream was a favourite resort of Mason's, and has been celebrated by Sir Walter Scott. Nothing can be more picturesque, no- thing more beautiful, than its course through the grounds at Rokeby, and its junction there with the Tees ; . . and there is a satisfaction in knowing that the possessor of that beautiful place fully appreciates and feels its beauties, and is worthy to possess it. Our Greta is of a different cha- racter, and less known; no poet has brought it into notice, and the greater number of tourists seldom allow themselves time for seeing any thing out of the beaten track. Yet the scenery upon this river, where it passes under the woody side of Latrig, is of the finest and most remem- berable kind : ambiguo lapsu refluitque fluilque. Occurrensque sibi venturas aspicit undas. There is no English stream to which this truly Ovidian description can more accurately be ap- plied. From a jutting isthmus, round which the tortuous river twists, you look over its manifold windings, up the water, to Blencathra ; down it, over a high and wooded middle-ground to the distant mountains of Newlands, Cawsey Pike, and Grizedal. 152 THE RIVER GRETA. About a mile below that isthmus, and in a part of the bottom hardly less beautiful, is a large cotton-mill, with the dwelling-houses and other building's appertaining to such an establishment. I was looking down upon them from the opposite hill-side, where my spiritual companion had joined me in one of my walks. We want an appellation, said I, for an assemblage of habita- tions like that below, which may as little be called grange or hamlet, as it may be village or town. My friend, Henry Koster, . . who, greatly my junior as he was, is gone before me to his rest, and of whom many places, many things, and many thoughts mournfully remind me, . . used to call it the Engenho, borrowing a word from his Brazilian vocabulary. Destitute of beauty as the larger edifice necessarily is, there is nevertheless something in its height and magnitude, and in the number of its windows, which reminds one of a convent. The situation contributes to the likeness ; for the spot is one which the founder of a monastery might well have chosen for its seclusion and beauty, and its advantages of wood and water. SIR THOMAS MORE. And which, Montesinos, would, in your eyes, be the more melancholy object of contemplation, , .the manufactory, or the convent? MANUFACTURES. 153 MONTESINOS. There are times and places in which each may be regarded with complacency, as contributing to the progress of the community, and to the wel- fare of the human race. There are times and places also in which they may each tend to retard that progress, and counteract that welfare. The spirit of trade has raised this nation to its present point of power, and made it what it is, the riches which have thus been created being as it were the dung and dross with which the garden of civilization is manured, and without which the finest flowers and fruits of cultivated society could not be produced. Had it not been for the spirit of trade, and the impulse which the steam- engine had just then given to the manufacturing system, Great Britain could neither have found means nor men for the recent war, in which not only her vital interests, but those of the whole of Europe, were at stake. This good is paramount to all other considerations. Men act as they deem best for their own interest, with more or less selfishness, but always, upon the great scale, having that object in view ; and national wealth is produced by the enterprize and cupidity of individuals. Governments also pursue their own systems, more cr less erroneously, (not without 154 MANUFACTURES. grievous errors, Heaven knows, even in those which act and which mean the best !) and the Providence which is over all, directs all to its own beneficent purposes. SIR THOMAS MORE. You have remarked that wars may probably be rendered less frequent by the increased means of destruction with which modern science is arming the destroyer man. May not the manu- facturing system be, in like manner, tending to work out, b}^ means of the very excess to which it is carried, a remedy for the evils which it has brought with it ? MONTESINOS. The steam-engine alone, without war, and without that increased taxation which war has rendered necessary, woidd have produced all the distress which our manufacturing population has experienced, and is likely again and again to experience. Johnson once said he wondered how a man should see far to the right who saw but a little way to the left ; . . reverse the terms, and there will then appear no cause for wonder. Men see far to the left, and to the left only, when they have been trained to look only in that direction, . . never to the right, and never straight forward. This moral and intellectual obliquity of vision is MANUFACTURES. 155 but too easily produced. But in more direct reply to your question, . . that remedial process may be, and I would fain hope is, going on, Whereby disease grows cure unto diseases . . . A wisdom proper to humanity. — Lord Brooke. There are two ways in which it may work. Other nations may compete with us, and our foreign trade in consequence may gradually de- cline. Something of this is already perceptible. The French are said to manufacture* about as much cotton now as was manufactui-ed in this country fourteen years ago. We now send abroad the thread, where we used at that time to export the manufactured article. The Americans also are endeavouring to supply their own consump- tion : they have this at heart, and there are no people who pursue what they think their advan- tage with more sagacity, nor with more deter- mined eagerness and perseverance. An American, when he speaks colloquially of power, means nothing but a steam-engine. We can neither keep our machinery nor our workmen to our- selves : to attempt it is, indeed, in the one case, impolitic ; in the other, oppressive ; in both, unavailing. And wherever they go, and oppor- tunity invites, enough of British capital to set * So it was stated in a newspaper of 1827. 156 MANUFACTURES. tliem ill activity will follow. No sense of pa- triotism will clieck this ; no laws can prevent it; the facility of transferring capital being- such, that Mammon in these days, like the Cupid of the poem, Spreads his liglit wings, and in a moment flies. This would be the cuthanasy of the system, a gradual and easy decay without a shock ; and, perhaps, . . were time allowed, . . we might then hope for a palingenesia, a restoration of national sanity and strength, a second birth : . . perhaps, I say, . . and were time allowed, . . for I say this doubtfully, and that ghostly shake of the head with which it is received does not lessen the melancholy distrust wherewith it is expressed. SIR THOMAS MORE. O Montesinos ! the Mammon of unrighteous- ness hath made ' the heart of this people fat, * and hath made their ears heavy, and hath shut * their eyes * ! ' Pray you to the All-Merciful that this spirit continue not to possess the nation, until ' the cities be wasted without inhabitant, ' and the houses without man, and the land be ' utterly desolate:', .or worse than desolate ! That part of the Prophet's commination is come to pass among you which denounces that ' the child shall * Isaiah vi, 10, 11. SPIRIT OF TRADE. 157 * beliave himself proudly against the ancient, and ' the base against the honourable* ;' and that also which saith that ' the people shall be oppressed,' . . not by their rulers, . . but ' every one by another, ' and every one by his neighbour.' Was there ever a people among wdiom age was treated with so little reverence, . . by whom honour was so little rendered where honour is due, . . and among whom (which is more immediately to our present topic) the desire of gain had so eaten into the core of the nation ? Too truly must it be said that every man oppresses his neighbour, or is struggling to oppress him. The landlord racks his tenant ; the farmer grinds the labourer. Throughout the trading part of the community, every one endeavours to purchase at the lowest price, and sell at the highest, regardless of equity in either case. Bad as the feudal times were, they were less injurious than these commercial ones to the kindly and generous feelings of human nature, and far, far more favourable to the prin- ciples of honour and integrity. MONTESINOS. There, Sir Thomas, you touch upon the second cause which is likely, in a less degree perhaps, but in a worse manner, to affect the commercial * Isaiah iv. 10. 158 SPIRIT OF TRADE. prosperity of Great Britain. In tlie competition of trade one ill principle sometimes counteracts another, and yet both being- ill, work for ill, though an incidental good may be occasioned. The tradesman is not more desirous to obtain a high price from what in your days were called his chapmen, than he is to undersell his fellow dealers. The point of emulation between rival manufacturers, is not so much who shall send forth the best goods, but who the cheapest ; flimsy articles are thus manufactured for rapid sale, and for the foreign market. Formerly their aim was to produce substantial goods, which should wear well, and with which the purchaser should have reason to be satisfied ; now it is how to make the largest quantity with the smallest expenditure of materials. SIR THOMAS MORE. But this is no new thing under the sun. Honesty, ' the health of the soul*,' was in just as sickly a state among the same class of men in my days, when clothmakers became poticaries, and thickened with flock-powder the web which they had stretched till its sinews cracked. This was done by the professors of godliness ! MONTESINOS. Dum vivo, l/uivo, was the motto for Ignora- * Cliarroii. SPIRIT OF TRADE. 159 mus's arms, when Ignoramus was caricatured as a commonwealtli's-man and a puritan. In those ages, no doubt, as in this, such professors might read that covetousness is the root of all evil, and assent to what they read, knowing at the same time that it was the root also of their estate*, and acting upon that knowledge. The sin as it re- lated to the offending individuals was the same then as now, and falls under the same denun- ciation . . . ' Woe unto him that buildeth his house by unrighteousness, and his chambers by wrong f!' but it was at that time confined to a narrow scale and within a narrow sphere, and neither affected the national interests, nor the national character, as both are in danger of being affected now. The goods of other, . . alas ! that I must add honester, . . countries are obtain- ing a preference in foreign markets, because they can be trusted : it is no longer a sufficient warranty for ours to say that they are English. Ought I to repeat what has publicly been stated, . . or should I seek rather in shame to conceal the shameful fact, that the class of men who have thus injured the credit and disparaged the name of their country, have committed the further villainy of setting upon their goods a forged foreign mark, and procuring, under this false * Hobbes, Behemoth. t Jeremiah xxiii. 13. IGO SPIRIT OF TRADE. pretence, a sale for tliem in markets where they would otherwise have been unsaleable, because of their known inferiority ! It is not very long- since one of the petty African kings said, he would send his son to England, that he might learn ' to read book and be ro2:ue.' This neo-ro had formed no incorrect opinion of the civilization which he had seen, and of the education which is e-iven in the school of trade. Johnson has remarked, that he had found men worse in commercial dealings, . . more disposed to take a dishonourable and dishonest advantag^e of each other, than he had any notion of, before he learnt from observation the melancholy fact; but he adds, that he had also found them more disposed to do one another good than he had expected. And this, I believe, is true ; men are benevolent when they are not selfish : but while gain is the great object of pursuit, selfishness must ever be the uppermost feeling. I cannot dissemble from myself that it is the principle of our social system, and that it is awfully opposed to the spirit of Christianity. sill THOMAS aiORE. Have you never been led to apprehend that freedom of trade, like freedom of the press, may require restrictions; and thut the evils occa- sioned by its abuse, may sooner or later render SPIRIT OF TRADE. IGl necessary a degree of wholesome restraint, wliicli may well exist without vexatious interference ? MONTESINOS. The evil of vexatious interference is so great, that I have been afraid to pursue that thought when it has risen in my mind. Certainly, I have suspected, that in this as in some other things of equal, or indeed greater importance, our ancestors were wiser in their generation than the men of these days; and that when trade is conducted by corporate bodies, the check upon fraud may more than compensate for any inconveniences arising from want of competition. There is too much competition in this country. Cheap shops ruin the fair trader. Goods are bought at the sale of a bankrupt's stock, the bankruptcy having, perhaps, been fraudulent, or at least occasioned by an impro- vidence differing from dishonesty, rather in name than in nature. These goods for which the manufacturer receives a few shillings, or more probably a few pence, in the pound from the bankrupt's estate, are purchased at so low a rate that they can be retailed far below the cost price, and yet leave a large profit to the speculator ; and at that low rate he sells them, in order to tempt customers, and undersell the upright dealer, who has paid the just price for his wares. VOL. II. M 1G2 SPIRIT OF TRADE. The saving which is thus aftorded to the con- sumer, is but a paltry advantage compared to the injury with which what was formerly the settled system of fair trade is hereby affected. In this process, which is continually going on, the manufacturers are, in the first instance, the injured party. But they also are chargeable with having interloped to the detriment of the shopkeeper. Lest their mills should stand still, and partly, it may be believed, from an unwil- lingness to turn out of employ hands which can find no other employment (for this redeeming motive acts to a considerable extent) they manu- facture more than there is any demand for, or than can find vent through the usual channels : these surplus goods, for the sake of ready money, are hawked*' about the country by their agents, at low prices ; the low price which is all that can be looked for from persons who buy, not be- * A certain John Eglcton, in a letter to an M.P. written in 1702, advises that ' liawkcrs, pedlars, and petty chapmen,' should he prohibited ' from travelling and trading up and 'down the nation; because they impoverished most of the ' corporations and market towns in England by depriving them ' of their trade ; they encouraged the debasing of our manu- ' factures by readily buying all sorts of ware, defective in ' length, breadth, and goodness; and they were the great • vendors of smuggled goods : and they neither pay taxes, • scot or lot, in any settled place.' — ScoU's So?ner's Tracts, xi. 617. SPIRIT OF TRADE. 1G3 cause they want the article, but because they are tempted by the undervalue at which it is offered, leads in its consequence to a deterioration of the goods : they have been sold below their proper price, because too much had been manufactured, and then they must be deteriorated in quality, because they are to be sold cheap ; and the con- sumer finds at last that he has purchased dearly. There is evil in every step of this transaction, and the worst is the great injury which is done to the frugal fair-dealing shopkeeper. And now, too, tradesmen who carry on business in large towns upon a great scale, follow the example of the manufacturers, and employ travellers in like manner to solicit orders from private families. ' Live and let live,' is no longer the maxim in this greedy nation. Under this system the little shopkeepers are disappearing, as the small far- mers disappeared when the devouring principle of trade was applied to agriculture upon the great scale ; . . and yet what class of persons can so ill be spared as that wherein the habit of well regulated and hopeful frugality is most surely to be found ; . . that where there is comfort and contentment enough to render persons happy in their station, and yet a prospect withal of im- proving it for their own old age, and for their children after them ? M 2 1G4 SPIRIT OF TRADE. SIR THOMAS MORE. If, in the progress of your cultivation, these feeders are cut off, be sure the stream of national prosperity will fail ! There are evil states of society in which the very nature of the evil is to prolong, or, as you would say, to perpetuate it- self, . . and under this curse, the awful but the righteous and predicted punishment of their sins, whole nations are existino- at this hour. But that cannot be a durable state of things in which the increase of riches in a few occasions an increase of poverty in the many. National wealth is wholesome only when it is equitably diffused. MOXTESINOS. The more the Tliildren of Mammon possess, the more they are desirous of possessing, Leur convoilise magnifique Jamais ne se 2)eut assouvir. Jan Antoine de Baif. Nor is the epithet which the old poet applies to such coveteousness too dignified, for the passion seems in these days to have borrowed something of the grandeur of ambition. And yet John Bun- yan, whom, mcthinks, with a truer aptitude of discrepant terms, I may call the noble tinker, suggests a better illustration ; the larger the heap whicli his poor muckworm has scraped together, the more eagerly he continues to rake. SPIRIT OF TRADE. 165 Wealth is the Conjurer's devil, Whom wlicn he thinks he hath, the Devil hath him. Herbert. SIR THOMAS MORE. It is not to the mere spirit of trade that this must be imputed. When my munificent okl friend John Colet endowed his school at St. Paul's, he left it in perpetual trust not to the bishops, nor the chapter, nor the great men of the state, but to married citizens of the Mer- cers' Company ; . . to married men, because they, he thought, as fathers of families, would feel a proper interest in what was designed for the benefit of children ; and to tradesmen, because, he said*, he had found less corruption among men of that station than in any other class. Do not, then, look upon this evil as arising from the very nature of commerce, for there is no profession v/liich more truly may deserve to be called liberal, when carried on by a just and honourable man. If it be now character- ized by more of speculation and less of probity * Reditibus totique ncgotio j)r(efecit non sacerdotes, non episcopmn aut capilulum ut vacant, non magnates, sed cives aliquot conjifgatos, prohatce fames. Roganti causam ait, nihil quidem esse ccrti in rebus hrmianis, sed tamcn in his se minimum invenire corruptelce. — Erasm. Ep. L. 15, Ep. 14. Jod. Jonte. 166 SPIRIT OF TRADE. than in former times, it is because it is affected by what is now an epidemic malady in this land. There is at this time a diseased activity in the middle and higher classes ; a feverish excitement, increased by the pressure of taxation, but far more by the prevailing fashion of an ostentatious and emulous expenditure, . . a symp- tom which hath ever preceded the decay of states. As the greedy spirit of trade has de- stroyed the small farmers, and is in like manner destroying the small tradesmen, so has the class of inferior gentry almost disappeared under the operation of the distempered activity generated and fomented by these causes. I remember some homely lines in the Shepherd's Kalendar of my days, . . And in especial, God to jilease, Desire thou never none other man's tiling ; Remember that many fingers are well at ease That never wear no gold ring. MONTESINOS. So I once told a lady whose white hand would have been more pleasing in my eyes without such trinketry, when her fingers, being swoln with cold on a sharp winter's day, tightened round the rings with which they were studded, and made her understand feelingly the sort of pain produced by a thumb-screw. DESIRE OF GAIN. 167 SIR THOMAS MORE. The rude verses of that old moralizer are hardly more obsolete than the morality which they inculcate. Few, indeed, of those who possess the means of happiness, know how to use the means with which they are entrusted, because they know not in what the true happi- ness of an intellectual and immortal creature, made in the image of his Creator, consists. They involve themselves in the pursuits of the world, which are its serious follies, when they have outgrown its lighter and more venial ones ; and, ceasing to be the slaves of frivolity, they become the slaves of business, instead of living to themselves, and their families, and their neighbours, and their God. MONTESINOS. But they call this living to their country; and think that in so doing they make no little sacrifice to their duty, and to the service of the state. SIR THOMAS MORE. I am not speaking of what is called political life, though the remark bears upon it more forcibly than upon any other calling, because all who enter upon that course must be sup- posed to be influenced by choice, not by neces- sity, . . being possessed of wealth, either here- 1G8 COMPETENCE. ditary or acquired, in ample sufficiency for the comforts and refinement of the society wherein they are phiced. My words had a wider mean- ing-. How few among you are those wlio know how to use or to appreciate the blessings of com- petence and leisure ! MOXTESINOS. Leisure, indeed, there are not many who know how to enjoy ; time seems hardly to pass at a wearier pace with the miserable, than with the listless and the idle ; and with regard to competence, . . Fortiina imdth nimium dat, satis nidli : . . competence has been well defined as meaning, in every one's acceptation, a little more tlian he himself happens to possess. N%il nest content cle sa fortune, Ni inecontcnt dc son esjjrit. M" Dcs Iloulieres. But political events have, even within reach of my remembrance, made so great a change in the circumstances and constitution of our little world, that what in this respect was prudence and true wisdom half a century ago, might now justly be condemned as improvidence. More cases tlian one have occurred, within my own knowledge, of persons who wound up their comiiicicial concerns, and retired from business witli what appeared to their modest views a ADVENTURERS. 160 fortune equal to their wishes, and far above their wants : it was so at the time ; but in the course of twenty years the value of money was so greatly diminished, and the whole expendi- ture of every household unavoidably and pro- portionately so increased, that they found them- selves straitened in their old age, and had the grief of knowing that the children, for whom they thought a fair competence had been pro- vided, must be left with a poor viaticum for the remainder of their melancholy pilgrimage. There is no floating at ease upon the agitated waters of our society ; they who cannot struggle and swim, and buffet the waves that bufl'et them, must sink. Never was there so stirring an age as the pre- sent ! From yonder little town, which with its dependant hamlets contains not more than four thousand inhabitants, adventurers go not only to the all-devouring metropolis, and to the great commercial and manufacturing towns of Lan- cashire and Yorkshire, but to Canada and the United States, to the East and West Indies, to South America, and to Australia. I could name to you one of its natives who is settled at Mos- cow, and another whose home is among the mountains of Caucasus. In these days there is not perhaps one man in a thousand (except among the higher families) who, if he lives to manhood, is buried with his fathers. 170 POPULATION. SIR THOMAS MORE. This is no happy stage of society, . . no whole- some state of things for the human heart. There is evil, great evil, in this disruption of natural ties, . . this weakening of the domestic affections, . . this premature dissolution of them. Those cir- cumstances are as little favourable to happiness as they are conformable in their consequences to the order of nature, which compel or tempt rational and reflective beings to dispose of their children, as animals who are regulated in their affections by mere instinct act toward their off- spring when the course of instinct is fulfilled. MOXTESINOjS. But it is an evil of necessity in our system. Even with all these outlets, every walk of life is crowded in this country. There are more labourers than can find employ, more artificers in every craft than can earn a livelihood. Where there is business enough for one tradesman, three or four compete for it. No common interest will suffice at this time for getting a boy placed as midshipman in the navy, or obtaining him a commission when that severe apprenticeship has been served. And if the price of commissions in ihc army were to be doubled, even then mere money would not avail to purchase them, so numerous would be the applicants. The courts of law arc attended by swarms of briefless bar- POPULATION. 171 risters upon every circuit ; and were the plague to visit us for our offences, it would hardly afford employment for the young men who are trained, and training to the medical profession. The church alone is not greatly over-supplied with members, because the numbers who may be or- dained are under some limitation. SIR THOMAS MORE. You spoke of the Plague ; and according to the picture you have drawn, there must be some among you ready, like the Mahommedans, to look upon the Plague itself as a blessing, sent by the Almighty to clear off a superfluous population. MONTESINOS. We have indeed metapoliticians, whose the- ories upon this subject tend quite as much to derogate from the goodness of God, and in a greater degree to harden the heart of man. Their attention has been directed to the increase of the poorer orders. SIR THOMAS MORE. A fearful threat, indeed, was denounced through the Prophet against a land where the commandments of the Lord were despised *, . . ' I will fill thee with men as with caterpillars, ' and they shall lift up a shout against thee !' * Jeremiah, li. 14. 172 POPULATION. MOXTESINOS. You must not suppose that our political eco- nomists seek in the Bible for instruction ! Moral considerations are allowed no place in their phi- losophy, . . how much less then should religion be found there ! Everything is gross and mate- rial in that philosophy ; . . it is of the earth, earthy ; and not of earth, as it came from the hands of that beneficent and all-wise Creator, who saw that it was good, but as it has been rendered by man, where the filth and refuse of a crowded and ill-ordered society have accumu- lated, and the waters of its broken conduits, and the contents of its sewers have met and stag- nated, and all together has become rank, noxious, putrescent, and pestilential. Their philosophy is the growth of such a compost ! They discover the cause of all our difficulties and evils, not in the constitution of society, but of human nature ; and there, also, they look for it, not where it is to be found, iu its sinfidness and fallen state, but in its essence, and the primal law which was its primal benediction ! Take the brains of the whole school, and distil them in vacuo, (which is the nearest approximation to the natural process in this case,) and 3'on could not extract so much essential thought as may be found in any one page of our old divines. . .Although of England POPULATION. 173 itself, which is so much the most improved of the united kingdoms, more than a sixth part is at this time uncultivated, and a far larger pro- portion of Wales and Scotland and the sister island ;.. though we have in our colonies tracts of habitable land equal in extent to the whole sur- face of habitable Europe, . . they will not per- ceive that there is room either at home or abroad, for what they call our surplus population ; and instead of enlarging the hive, or sending out swarms, as nature indicates, and the plainest policy enjoins, they advise us to starve the bees, that so they may be prevented from breed- ing ! They have made themselves so incapable of seeing the immediate and ready remedy which earth and ocean offer us, that this is the alternative they choose, . . this the remedy they prescribe ! ' Eyes have they, and yet see not.' SIR THOMAS MORE. •■ This blindness is not of tlie eyes alone, But of the mind, a dimness and a mist.* MOXTE SINGS. The difficulty, when we seriously contemplate the subject, is not in disposing of that part of the population who come upon tlie poor rates for assistance or support ; tlie great majority of * Higgins. Mirror of Magistrates, vol. i. p. 308. 1 74 POPULATION. these poor people being willing' to emigrate, willing to work, to go anywhere where they may be able to provide for themselves, to do any- thing whereby they may earn their bread. What- ever means may be devised for their benefit, they are ready to co-operate and perform their part. They can dig, . . and though hard neces- sity and hardening example have made too many of them not ashamed to beg, they would rather live by labour than by mendicity. But how they should be set to work, . . how the beginning should be made, . . is what we must not expect to learn from any professor of political economy ; . . as Lord Cottington said of old, ' it is not under his cap.' SIR THOMAS MORE. The wisdom of the heart is wanting there. Statesmen seem hitherto as little to have dreamt of the good which it is in their power to effect, as sailors of the American and Australian regions before the age of maritime discovery. They have not yet had faith enough in goodness to believe in the moral miracles which benevolence and zeal are able to perform ! If at any time they have entertained a serious wish for bettering the condition of their fellow-creatures, the difh- culties which they see before them have appeared like mountains in the way ; and yet had they POPULATION. 1 75 faith but as a grain of mustard seed, those moun- tains might be removed. There is abundant room in this country, and its colonies, for any possible increase of population, incolumi Jove, till the end of time ! Only let the poor and in- digent be placed where they may ' labour for ' that which satisfieth,' and ' the earth will give ' seed to the sower and bread to the eater :' ' they shall build houses and inhabit them ; and * the solitary place shall be glad, and the desert ' shall rejoice.' MONTESINOS. The lower classes may be more easily dis- posed of^ and are both more willing and more able to aid in disposing of themselves, than the overflow of educated persons. No small part of the danger, with which our institutions are threatened, arises from the number of adven- turers in the middle rank of life, who, being unsuccessful, are therefore discontented. These become more numerous in every generation. ' The world is not their friend, nor the world's law :' and in disturbed times they must always be dangerous subjects, to whom all change might seem to offer hope, and who have nothing to risk but lives of which they are weary. Loyal obedience, wherein the safety of a state consists, can only rest either in the principle of duty, or 17G HALF-PAY OFFICERS. the contented sense of well-being : the first can scarcely be said to exist in this corrupted nation ; the second is not to be found among the labour- ing poor, nor in the great body of disappointed adventurers. sill THOMAS MORE. And for this you have no remedies, no palli- atives even, except such as chance may present ! MOXTESINOS. A safety valve was opened for us, by what, humanly speaking, may be called chance, at the end of the war. A great number of those brave and unfortunate officers in the army and navy, and more unfortunate midshipmen, who were disbanded upon the conclusion of the peace, hopeless of promotion in their own profession, and unfitted for any other, found their way to South America, and engaged in the service of the revolutionary states, by sea or by land ; some in the persuasion that they were aiding a gene- rous and a noble cause ; but the greater number in a spirit of desperate adventurousness, having no hope elsewhere. SIR THOMAS MORE. Why was no outlet opened for such persons, to whom the nation had contracted a moral obligation ? They had entered its fleets and armies when their services were wanted, and had HALF-PAY OFFICERS. 177 exposed their lives freely and gallantly when lives were in demand. When they had brought the war to its desired termination, (a termina- tion, oh, how far exceeding' in honour that of any former war in which England had been engaged !) was it fitting that this should be their reward ? Was it fittino; that Eno-lish blood should be made as cheap throughout the revolutionary states of South America as the Eno-lish 2:oods with which their markets were glutted by your greedy speculators ? Was it fitting that they who had brought the ship of the state safely and tri- umphantly into port, should then be turned adrift themselves? that having fought their country's battles victoriously, and exalted their country's name, they should be left to engage in contests, in which none of the honourable courtesies of war are observed, none of its redeeming humani- ties are to be found ; but where, with a strong and exasperated feeling of right, on either side, the most nefarious acts of brutal injustice and atro- cious barbarity were perpetrated on both ? Was it fitting that these things should be ? Was it just? Was it honourable to the English name ? MONTESINOS. In this, however, there has been hardship, without injustice, inflicted or complained of. It was the condition upon which these adventurers VOL. II. N 178 HALF-PAY OFFICER^ entered the service. Every one knew that the army must be reduced in time of peace. No sooner had peace been obtained, than there was an immediate cry for a reduction of expenses, and a necessity for it ; and the first obvious re- duction, in deference to that cry, was of the military and naval establishments. The half- pay of a subaltern is indeed barely sufficient for his single subsistence ; but a burthened nation cannot afford more. In these things individual cases must be overlooked : they can no more be regarded in the general measures of government, than in the operations of nature. SIR THOMAS MORE. Are they then unregarded in the operations of nature ? Those operations are imder the guid- ance of that Providence which feedeth the fowls of the air, and without which not a sparrow falls to the ground. Look to your heart, Montesinos, if the words were spoken advisedly ; look to your heart, and if at any moment the cloud and the darkness come over you, pray for light and for forgiveness from that God in whom you live, and move, and have your being! The earthquake may crush, and the flood overwhelm, and the pestilence sweep away the children of men ; but are you to be told that let death, which must come, come when it may, it comes, and can only HALF-PAY OFFICERS. 179 come, in the order of Providence? How in- finitely little then imports it whether it comes soon or late, life being but ' a place which ' God hath given us in time, for the desiring of * eternity ! ' * MONTESINOS. O monitor and friend, the words deserve re- proof, but not the intention ! I spoke them not in blindness or obduracy, but expressed in com- mon language an illustration drawn from the surface of things. SIR THOMAS MORE. But it behoves you to look always into the life of things, and especially to guard against language which could not have become common, unless men, having eyes and seeing not, had ceased to regard that which is the life of life. . . Nor is this all that deserves reprehension in your speech : you looked at the political qiiestion as merely political, and spake as if you regarded it in the hard-hearted way in which these things are officially considered. If it were your own way of thinking, . . if the spring from whence such a reply proceeded lay lower than the lips and larynx, I should have had too little sympathy with one so minded, . . too little hope of any good * Jeremy Taylor, vol. iii. p. 447. N 2 180 MILITARY COLONIZATION. that miglit be done to liim, and through him to others, to have put on visibility, and introduced myself to him in this world. Methinks it should require but little reflection, and no extraordinary portion of good-will towards others, to perceive that individual interests may in very many cases be consulted with advantage to the general good, certainly without detriment to it, and that they ought always to be so consulted when they can. Without inquiring here in what manner this might be done both in the army and navy at all times, let me ask whether, at the conclusion of a war, a system of military colonization might not be adopted, like that of the Romans, modified according to change of times and difterence of circumstances ? MOXTESINOS. Such an experiment in home-colonization was tried after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, when soldiers and sailors were settled on some of the forfeited estates in Scotland : decent houses were built for them, and a portion of land allotted to each ; three pounds in money given to every settler, and nine more lent him to begin the new world with, on which he was about to enter. Pennant calls it an Utopian scheme, which was frustrated by the loose and incorrigible habits of the men : they soon spent their money, and then MILITARY COLONIZATION. 181 left their tenements to be occupied by the next comer. Yet, he observes, that Utopian as the project was, and notwithstanding the total failure of the primary object, some advantages ensued : a good deal of ground was inclosed, several plan- tations were formed in a wild country, a better manner of building cottages was introduced, and the comfortable dwellings which the first idle in- mates deserted, were left for a more industrious people. Unsuccessful as the experiment proved, the principle was right ; it was a straight-for- ward step in policy, which there may be some advantage in referring to at present, when, crab- like, so many of our movements are oblique, and so many, like those of the lobster, are, as Sir Boyle Roche would have said, in retrograde progres- sion. The error seems to have been in disband- ing the men instead of settling them in companies, with their proper officers, still under command : the same habit of obedience which made them work upon the military roads, would then have kept them to their duty, till, by military discipline, thus directed to moral ends, a second nature had been induced. SIR THOMAS MORE. Right, Montesinos, . . with the aid of the Bible and of chaplains, who being thus converted into parish priests, should have discharged their duty 182 COLONIZATION. 1 with fidelity. For in colonizing, upon however small a scale, the vow should be remembered which David vowed unto the Almighty God of Jacob : ' I will not suffer mine eyes to sleep, nor ' mine eyelids to slumber, neither the temples of ' my head to take any rest, until I have found ' out a place for the temple of the Lord,' The chief reason why men in later times have been worsened by colonization (as they very generally liave been, from whatever nation they have been sent forth) is, that they have not borne this in mind. In this respect the Jews have been wiser (in theory at least, for they have had no oppor- tunity of practice) than any Christian people have yet shown themselves : it was a tradition among them, that wherever ten men of Israel were settled together, a synagogue ought to be built there. MONTESINOS. This is indeed the chief reason why the state of morals is generally so much worse in colo- nies than in the parent state. But there are other causes. Slavery, wherever it exists, is a sure cause of corruption, and of the worst kind. Nor is it any blessing for man in his fallen state, when tluit part of the primeval punishment which cursed the ground for his sake, and ap- pointed him to eat bread in the sweat of his COLONIES. 183 brow, is with regard to him suspended. Colo- nists are worsened wherever the means of sub- sistence are abundantly produced with little or no labour on their part. Thus the multiplication of cattle has brutalized the boors of South Africa, the peons of La Plata, and the Brazilians of Rio Grande, Piauhy, and the other grazing countries of Brazil. When cattle are raised merely for slaughter, when they are not employed in agri- culture, and nothing is looked for from them but their hides and their flesh, or perhaps the hides alone, the people become worse than barbarians : their physical condition is better than that of a huntino' tribe, but their moral state is far more loathsome : but when milk becomes a part of their food, a difl'erent feeling is introduced, and a better stage of society begins. The horse is nowhere so well treated as where mare's milk is in use. A greater moral contrast can hardly be supposed between two nations whose physical circumstances are, in many respects, very much alike, than exists between the Esquimaux and the Laplanders, and the cause appears to be that the latter have been humanized by the rein- deer. SIR THOMAS MORE. Let other circumstances be what they may, it is the nature of man to worsen if he be left to 184 COLONIES. himself: liis body is not more seriously injured by unnatural restraint, than his better part is if it be under no control of wholesome discipline. In home colonies . . (and it will not always be the reproach of this kingdom that large tracks of land are lying waste while thousands are want- ing employment, and tens of thousands derive their chief means of support from the poor-rates,) in home colonies, I say, if there be any wisdom manifested in forming them, the established order of the general community will be, as of course, observed, and oj^portunity is offered for supply- ing the defects of that order. In these, therefore, the poor and destitute may wisely be employed ; for even if the admixture of persons in a more improved, or more fortunate condition, were left wholly to the natural course of things, they cannot sink below the standard of surrounding civilization. But when foreign colonies are to be founded or enlarged, it must be as ill a policy to stock them with the outcasts and refuse of society, its criminals and its paupers, the most guilty or the most wretched, the ignorant and the worthless of the mother country, as it would be to propagate grafts from a diseased tree, or of a fruit bad in its kind. MONTESINOS. There is the same difficulty at this day which COLONIES. ] 85 Bacon remarked when treating of the planta- tions in Ireland ; ' those men will be least fit * ' which are like to be most in appetite of them- ' selves ; and those most fit which are like least ' to desire it.' SIR THOMAS MORE. The colonists of my age sought first for plun- der, secondly for mines ... a pursuit in which they sometimes endured almost as much suffering as they inflicted, and yet less than they deserved. In these days, men go to the colonies for the purpose of accumulating fortunes by trade, or by agricultural speculations carried on in the spirit of trade ; seeking the same end, though by better means. Few are they who, in removing from a crowded society, where, if there be any hope in * Captain Beaver, in his most interesting account of the attempt to establish a British settlement on the island of Bulama, says of the adventurers, ' when the terms of subscrip- ' tion v^^ere so very moderate, it is not to be wondered at that ' in such a great city as London some profligate and worthless ' characters were to be found among the subscribers ; but I ' think we had more than one would have expected.' One among them ' had been guilty of wilfully setting fire to a house, * of robbery, of murder, of forgery, and of incest, . . of all which ' (says Captain Beaver) I had full proofs after his death.' It is no pleasant reflection that a miscreant in the land we live in should have committed these crimes, and escaped punish- ment, and even detection, for all of them. 186 MILITARY COLONIES. their prospect, it is a hope indefinitely deferred, look to the moral advantages which a new coun- try possesses, and which are of such moment that in many instances they may well be deemed to overweigli the social and intellectual enjoyments of their native land. The desire of wealth is the one impelling motive. Yet there must be many who might be induced to transplant themselves by worthier considerations, if opportunity were afforded them of providing a sure subsistence, in all comfort and independence, for themselves and their posterity, to the third and fourth generation. There must be many who are capable of under- standing and feeling that a patriarchal state is better and happier than a commercial one, . . happier if temporal enjoyment were the only object of desire, and immeasurably better for them as intellectual and immortal beings. MONTESINOS. Military settlements, for which alone the ffx- cilities which you appear to tisk from a govern- ment could readily be supplied^ were attempted at the close of the late war ; and this I ought to have remembered when you arraigned the state for a want of due feeling towards the dis- banded soldiers. Establishments for them in Upper Canada were projected, and the men who were wiUino; to become colonists were MILITARY COLONIES, 187 provided with a passage thither for themselves and families ; land in proportion to their respec- tive ranks was allotted ; the largest allotment being twelve hundred acres for a field-officer, the smallest, one hundred, for a private. Im- plements of husbandry were given them, and materials also to assist in building their habi- tations ; and they were allowed rations of pro- visions for one year, the estimated cost of which was twenty pounds for each individual : but this was insufficient, and its continuance should have been fixed for six months lono-er, seeino' that no preparations whatever had been made for receiving the people upon the ground in- tended for them. Their lots had been pre- viously surveyed, but upon reaching them, they found themselves in the wilderness ; no founda- tions had been laid, no clearance begun, and the men themselves were far from being fitted for the work which they were required to per- form. When the former experiment was made in Scotland, the men had previously been broken in to labour, and drilled, as it were, in the use of the spade and the mattock, upon the roads ; and yet this training failed (except in few in- stances) to produce either the disposition or the habits which would have qualified them for a life of regular industry. But in Canada there 188 MILITARY COLONIES. had been no sucli training, and the settlers had to contend not only with the difficulties of their situation, but with the worse habit of idleness which they had contracted as soldiers. So it is not strange that an experiment, the plan whereof was so much better in its design than in its details, should have failed as to its pri- mary purpose. Indeed, though the settlements were called military, they were not, properly speaking, military colonies : the men were under certain regulations, to which they were required to conform ; but having been disbanded before they were placed there, the principle of military obedience was withdrawn : they were thus left to act each upon his own views of self-interest, instead of under the sense of obligation and duty ; and a great many of them forsook their allotments, and went to seek their fortune in the United States. The settlements still exist,' for casual settlers were admitted and encouraged ; and other soldiers also received locations there, who beinof in Canada wlicn the term of their limited service expired, chose to accept of such a resting-place, instead of a passage to England. Nor has the experiment been quite useless as to its first intent : experience has been gained by it 1o be acted upon hereafter; the men who re- mained upon their lots are now reaping the fruit EMIGRANTS. 189 of their industry and patience, and tlieir chil- dren's children will have cause to bless the bene- ficent Government which placed them there. SIR THOMAS MORE. By what inducements should these settlers l)e drawn into the United States ? MONTESINOS. By a persuasion that the means of subsistence are more surely and easily to be obtained there ; and this persuasion operates extensively. The casual emigrants who find their way every year from these islands to Canada are estimated at about ten thousand, and of these it has been said that four-fifths'* pass into the American provinces. A great proportion of these are Irish, who, of all emigrants, (though tliey work as willingly as the best,) are the least thrifty, and the least disposed to live quietly and in obedience to the laws ; insomuch that in Ame- rica they are the most wretched part of the whole population 'I, except the free blacks in New York. About a fourth of the English emigrants are supposed to find their way back to England '^ ; but they who have been bred to any handicraft trade remain, wages being high, and employment certain. When Americans be- * First Report on Emigration, p. 48. t Second Report on Emigration, p. 37. X First Report, p. 115. 190 EMIGRANTS. come restless, tlieir bent is toward tlie wilder- ness : tliev move into the back settlements, and there become the pioneers of civilization. Bri- tish and Irish adventurers, on the contrary, when removed to an uncultivated land, appear to pine after the haunts of men, and make when they can toward the centre of society instead of remaining beyond its frontiers. What to the American back-settler seems the perfection of wild independence, they regard with dislike ; perhaps, because they have been accustomed to consider such relegation to the wilderness as a punishment appropriated for criminals. There is yet another cause. Geneva was not more devoutly looked to as the pattern in the mount by our Puritans, in the days of Calvin and Beza, than the United States are now, as a sort of political Holy-land, by persons who are ill affected * either to the civil or ecclesiastical regi- * Mr. Gamble says of the Presbyterians who emigrate from the North of Ireland to America, that he lias ' seen many ' hundreds of their letters to their friends and relations ; and ' scarcely with an exception, the comfort most insisted on, the ' comfort of comforts was, that they could there speak to man ' as man, and that they were not obliged to uncover the head, ' or to bend the knee to any stern lord, arrogant squire, proud * vicar, or, above all, upstart agent!' And these he calls ' a * valuable description of people, whose loss is a subject of re- * grot in all wlio take an interest in the welfare of these king- ' donis!' — Fiews of Society in the North of Ireland, p. 307. EMIGRANTS. 1 9 1 men at home. Such persons assent to all the representations which the Americans delight in making- of their improved polity and enlightened freedom, and this opinion has spread among the lower orders : so that when assistance for re- moving to Canada has been afforded to poor families, either by their parishes or by the state, a great many have availed themselves of it only for the sake of a passage, at the public expense, to this promised land. SIR THOMAS MORE. And thus you send out, at the public charge, able hands to increase the rapidly increasing population of a country wherein a hostile spirit is cherished against you, and against which you may be again engaged in war, no one can foresee how soon ! MONTESINOS. I do not see how any such consideration should affect the policy of this government with regard to what is deemed its surplus population, unless it were by directing its emigrants rather to South Africa and Australia, than to its North American possessions. It is incontestable that the removal of so many hands for which employment cannot be found at home, is in our present circumstances an immediate good : but it may be doubted whether any eventual evil is to be apprehended 192 COLONIES. from thus accelerating the growth of the United States. The faster they grow the sooner they will separate. And though we have been un- natural enemies, the time, I trust, is approaching when both nations will perceive and acknowledge that they ought to be natural friends. The Ame- ricans, I believe, are not desirous of such an in- crease as we send them : they have poor enough of their own, and can derive little benefit from an influx of persons who are not likely to raise the standard either of manners or of principle anion o- them. SIR THOMAS MORE. Upon this evil it is, Montesinos, that I would fix your attention. There is not a sufiicient ad- mixture of good materials in the foundation of your colonies. The old saying, Caelum iron animum mutant qui trans mare ciirrunt, is true only for a time, and for no long time. Colonists cliange their country as well as their climate ; and they acquire even in the first gene- ration a new pliysical character, and a new moral one perhaps still sooner ; but the tendency is to- wards a lower standard of general manners tlian prevails in the society which tlicy have left. This it must be, from inevitable circumstances, at first, even when the platform of the new settlement is COLONIES. 193 laid after the model of the old, and the grada- tions of the community, as far as possible, care- fully preserved ; but the debasement is likely to be permanent, if no such care be taken. In laying the foundation of their colonies, the Spa- niards of all modern nations have shown the most forethought, the English least. MOXTESINOS. But what has been the result? the Spanish colonies are separated from the mother country, and nothing remains of them to Spain except the perpetual reproach which must endure as long as any record of their history, from their first establishment to their final loss, shall be pre- served. sill THOMAS MORE. That reproach applies not to the policy with which the foundations of those colonies were laid : they would have been well laid had they not been laid in blood. And when vou refer to the separation as proof of mispolicy on the part of the mother country, you should remember that the establishment of the Spanish colonies was anterior by more than an hundred years to that of the Anglo-American, and that they w^ere retained half a century longer. Wherever the Spaniards settled, their first business was to plant their own institutions : their polity was in VOL. II. o 194 SPANISH COLONIES. that age at its best, their religion at its worst; the former when thus transplanted lost much of its good, the latter more of its evil. The cities which they founded were in the course of half a century little inferior to those of the mother-land in any thing, except those awful works of ecclesiastical architecture, which in that age the European nations, one and all, were so little capable of equaling, that they had ceased to appreciate and even to admire them. In these cities all the gradations of Spanish society were found, except that the Court was wanting; and the Court was repre- sented wherever there was a vice-regal esta- blishment. Bad subjects it was impossible that the Government could keep out, especially when so much bloody and wicked work was to be done ; but every precaution which could be de- vised was taken to prevent persons of bad cha- racter from ^mbarking for the Indies. MONTESINOS. The Portuguese, on the contrary, in the same age, sent out criminals to Brazil ; but they did this more from necessity than from choice. Their population was insufficient for the schemes of extensive, and, . . it may fairly be added, . . ge- nerous ambition in which they were engaged ; and therefore they had recourse to a measure, COLONISTS. 195 the ill consequences of which were lamented by- all their own writers who have touched upon the subject, SIR THOMAS MORE. Has it been wisely done in your Government to follow, upon deliberate choice, an example which the Portuguese only from necessity had set, and which in their case had answered so ill ? MONTESINOS. Looking' at what time and chance have brought about, I know not whether we may say that it has answered ill. For by the descendants of these men, and of others who were their fit com- panions, (a mixed breed, which could hardly have been raised under any better system of colonization,) the interior of that great country was explored, from the plains of Piratininga to the Parana and the sources of the Paraguay, and from Matto Grosso to the Orellana, and to the frontiers of Quito and Popayan ; and their pos- terity are at this day in a better state, and (if they escape the curse of revolution) a more hopeful one, than those Mexicans and Peruvians and Columbians, who can trace their descent from the proudest names in Castilian history. SIR THOMAS MORE. But here, Montesinos, the past must be taken into your estimate There were two centuries o 2 19G AUSTRALIA. during- wliicli the standard of civilization at Mexico and Lima was not below that of Madrid : you will not compare Bahia and Pernanibuco, to say nothing of S. Paulo and Para, with Lisbon during the same portion of time. Methinks you would not desire to have a race of Paulistas or Para-men grow up beyond the Blue Mountains of Australia. MONTESINOS. The land, if gold mines were discovered there, happily would not supply slaves for working them. That colony originated in a scheme ill digested, and in itself objectionable on weighty grounds ; but this direct good has been effected by it, that the English language has been planted in Australia, and has taken root there, . . ' A goodly tree, whose leaf ' No winter e'er shall nip!' And the collateral good is yet greater ; for had no such settlement been previously formed, that mission would not have been undertaken, which in so many of the South-sea islands has put an end to a bloody and flagitious system of hea- thenism, and which will spread the comforts of civili/.ution and the blessings of Christianity throughout ;ill Polynesia. Am I wrong in think- ing that tlie disposal of Providence becomes more- niauilcst here when we reflect upon the AUSTRALIA. ' 197 errors of the original plan and the worse errors which were committed by those who managed the affairs of the colony at home ? I pass over the extravagance of transporting convicts to the farthest * part of the globe, because, without some such ostensible motive, no scheme of colo- nization would have been attempted; and because one of the most diihcult problems in polity is, how to dispose of such persons in an age when the depravity of the people, and the humanity of the public and of the Government keep pace with each other. I pass over the imprudence of colonizing with criminals, instead of employ- ing them as the bondsmen of better colonists : this error was in the original scheme. But the whole colony was more than once in danger of perishing with hunger, because supplies were not dispatched thither in time. And what should be said of the management which, sending out five thousand convicts in the course of the first twelve years to colonize a new country, made its arrangements with so little forethought, that only a fifth part of that number were women, and of those women many were actually infirm by reason of old age ! I know not whether any * A situation for such a colony had been sought in vain upon the coast of Africa. 198 AUSTRALIA. measures have even yet been * taken for remedy- ing an error which would be ludicrous for its ex- treme absurdity, if it were not monstrous in its consequences. The deficiency might surely have been supplied by giving a passage, from time to time, to as many of those unhappy women who infest the streets of London, as would thankfully have accepted such an offer of deli- verance. * The disproportion among the convicts has doubled since that time I Mr. Eager, in his Evidence before the Emigration Committee, (1st Report, p. 101,) says, that among those people he supposes ' there are not three women to twenty men ; ' perliaps not one to ten.' The general muster for the year 1821 shows not one to twelve ! — men, 12,608 ; women, 1,206. (Wentworth's Australasia, i. 481.) Among the free people the women were in the proportion of little more than three to five. The disproportion will be remedied when death has swept away the existing generation, and the population will be cut down accordingly ; but the dissolute manners which have been occasioned by this cause, in a far greater degree than by the original depravity of the stock, will, it may be feared, not be remedied so soon or so surely. Mr. Wentworth (vol. i. 365) gives a frightful })icture of the ' native-born females,' justly observing, that their dc])ravity is occasioned by the ' vast and ' alarming disproportion which exists between the sexes ;' but when, in the same page, he described the young men as ' al- * most invariably temperate, chaste, frugal, and laborious,' he had forgotten that where the women of a connnunity are dis- solute the men cannot be otherwise. AUSTRALIA. 199 SIR THOMAS MORE. The regulated polyandrianism which Caesar found established in the south of Britain, could not have been so pernicious in its consequences, as the dissoluteness which this incredible mis- management must produce in a new colony. MONTESINOS. The polyandrian system, I think, must have originated when some great body of invaders, who brought no women with them, settled them- selves by conquest in a country where little re- sistance was made. Beginning thus, custom might perpetuate it, aided in some places by pride * of caste, in others t by policy, where the wicked principle prevailed, that it was better to prevent the increase of population than to pro- vide an outlet for it. The moral effects of such a system cannot by possibility be worse than what polygamy produces : the political conse- quences certainly not so bad. SIR THOMAS MORE. You do not mean to vindicate the system ? MONTESINOS. Nor you to suspect me of so abominable an intention ! I only compare one evil with ano- ther, when endeavouring to explain in what * In INIalabar. t In Tibet. 200 POLYANDRIANISM. manner that of which the orig'in is least obvious can have arisen. If I am not mistaken, it vi^as continued among a remnant of the British, or rather Keltic people, much later * than any other observance of Druidical times : and a practice virtually, or rather viciously, the same has been imputed to the Venetian aristocracy, as the cus- tomary, though cryptic means, whereby the ca- dets of noble families were prevented from leaving a posterity who should sink beneath the rank of their race. Into such evils are men betrayed . . . into such abominations are they gra- dually drawn . . . when, instead of conforming their institutions and customs to the order of nature, and the revealed laws of God, they dis- regard those laws, and contravene that order. Hence the continuance of monasteries after their utility had ceased, and the zeal in which they had originated was worn out. When those insti- tutions were abolished in this country, there re- mained only the course of mercantile or military * As late as the 12th century it existed in Galloway, ac- cording to Capgravc, in his life of Aelred, Abbot of Rivaux ; ' Est c?iim terra ilia fera, silvcstris, et harbara ; bestiales ' homincx, et harharum omne. (jnod gignit. Castitas ioties ' ])aliiur nanfragium, quotics libido volueril, nee est inter ' rastam rt scortum xilla distanlia : nuiUeres jicr menses viros ' alternant: — Acta SS. Jan. t. i. 750. ADVENTURERS. 201 adventure (except such provision as the learned professions might afford) for the younger sons of good families; and the greater number became, during peace, idle, and listless, and hopeless, dependents upon the * elder brother. This was an inconvenience which coukl not long continue in a nation at that time too far advanced in a system of clanship to grow up in it. Accord- ingly, in the first generation after the great religious revolution, schemes of conquest from the Spaniards were attempted, which always de- generated into marauding expeditions ; and in the second, projects of colonization were con- ceived in a better spirit, by minds 'f of a higher order. Lord Sterline, the poet, took possession of and gave name to Nova Scotia : an intended settlement in the island of Mauritius was only prevented by the better speed of the Dutch ; and the troubles in England frustrated the scheme of an expedition for colonizing in Madagascar, which Prince Rupert was to have conducted, and after- wards the Earl of Arundel, and in which some of the choicest spirits of Charles's court would have * The best account wliicli I have ever seen of this stage of society, is in Mr. Surtees's History of Durham. Vol. i. 87. t I sliould have made an exception for Ralegh, (the great- est man engaged in any of these speculations,) if he had not been engaged in l)oth. 202 ADVENTURERS. embarked. This, had it been undertaken, must have proved a disastrous adventure, Madagascar being one of those places where the climate presents an insuperable obstacle to European colonization. An end was put to all such schemes by the civil wars, and with the Resto- ration a new order of things began. Commerce and trade, in many of its branches, had then become lucrative enough to be deemed honour- able, and not being overdone by competition, afforded room for disposing of younger sons ad- vantageously. The gradual increase of trade, and of our civil and military establishments, kept pace for more than an hundred years with the growth of population. It has ceased to do so since the ratio of mortality has diminished, . . which it has done greatly within the last half century, owing, perhaps, as much to the more temperate habits of the middle and higher classes, as to the better mode of treatment in most diseases which improved science has introduced. But the increase of wealth, real or fictitious, (that which is fictitious producing in this case the same efiect as that which is real,) has increased the number of educated persons in a very great de- gree beyond what was their proportion in any former age ; and the multitude of persons so educated, who can find no room in their own ADVENTURERS. 203 crowded walks of life, is great and growing enough to require the anxious attention of our statesmen, if the pressing anxieties of the present time left them ever at leisure to devise measures of prospective policy. SIR THOMAS MORE. You have spoken of polyandrianism and of convents. In what manner is your society af- fected (for affected it must be) by that evil for which these evils have been resorted to elsewhere as remedial or palliative ? Are morals better or worse among you than they were when manners were more gross? MONTESINOS. The latter question I must answer doubtfully. So far as morals depend upon natural disposition (upon which they must always, and almost wholly, depend where there is not a vital principle of religion) so far the morality of every age must be pretty much at the same average. Andrew Marvell says, ' Tlie world in all doth but two Nations bear, ' The Good and Bad; . . and these mixt everywhere :' it is thus with every generation also ; and the difference in this point will be found, I fear, to consist less in the proportion of wickedness, than in the shape which it may assume. Not to speak 204 MANNERS. of those offences which the law reaches, (though to these likewise the remark would apply,) vices as well as follies have their season, and come into fashion or go out, according to the humour of the times. There Avere undoubtedly, in the middle ages, more and greater crimes committed by the higher classes than by the lower, because the lower were kept in fear, and in order, and in place, whereas the others were powerful enough to defy the laws. Time has reversed this, placing the rich in circumstances more favourable to their moral nature, and in this respect worsen- ing, in an equal degree, the situation of the poor. But it is neither the rich nor poor who are affected by the cause concerning which you bid me inquire ; it is the intermediate class. The poor, perhaps, are not sufhciently mindful of the proverb, which says, that they who marry in haste repent at leisure ; the intermediate class, and especially such of that class as. are most desirous of what is called prospering in the world, are influenced by it too much. Late mar- riages, therefore, have become as much in the order of British society, as they are out of the order of nature ; they are rendered late not more often by reasonable and virtuous prudence, than by manners, which look rather to display than to comfort, and in which an expenditure that con- LATE MARRIAGES. 205 duces neither to happiness nor true respectability, is regarded as necessary in a certain rank of life. The eflect of this in the extensive and influential circle wherein it operates, cannot be otherwise than injurious. A great proportion of the women who are born within that circle, wither on the thorn ; it is a mournful thing to consider how many, in every generation, whom their Maker had endowed with every requisite for domestic happiness, pass through the world thus, unbless- ing and unblest : though among such women some of the best specimens of human nature are to be found, . . in saying which I speak not from theory, but from knowledge. Upon the other sex the effect very generally is, and must be, evil. Many become vicious who otherwise would not have been so ; and there arises this farther mis- chief, that, when they marry, undue motives have more than what would otherwise be their share in the engagement, on one side, or on the other : on the man's, when marrying early in life he makes money the object of his choice ; on the w^oman's, when (more pardonably) for the sake of obtaining a settlement in life, she overlooks a disproportionate difference of years, and submits therefore to a union in which, on her part, the place of affection is to be supplied by duty ... if it can. 206 LATE MARRIAGES. SIR THOMAS MORE. England then has ceased to be the Paradise of women ! MOXTESINOS. "Was it ever so. Sir Thomas? Has this world ever been other than a place of trial, even for the best and happiest, since Paradise was lost ? But if you ask me what are the worst evils in the commonwealth, I answer, first, the state of that verv numerous class who are left without instruc- tion in their childhood, without restraint in their youth ; and, were it not for the poor laws, I should have to add, without charity in their misery and old age ; secondly, the condition of women, respectably born, carefully educated, and left ill provided for, or unprovided. SIR THOMAS MORE. The reprobates of society, (and what a re- proach upon society it is, that there should be in it a class which may properly be so denomi- nated!) if greatly more in number than they were in former times, are probably not more in proportion; but they are congregated more. In- stead of being dispersed over the country, as iu my days, they are collected into large towns and populous districts, as into the sinks and sewers of depravity. CRIMINALS, 207 MONTESINOS. Sinks and sewers you may well call them, and yet the country is not drained by such re- ceptacles:., would that it were! For though knights are not more needed now to protect the husbandmen against wastours and wicked men*, than mighty hunters and hawkers are for rid- ding them of wild fowl who used to destroy the corn, and of wild boars and stags who used to break down the fences, we are far from being sufficiently protected either in town or country. There are few places without some inhabitants who live notoriously by unlawful means and yet elude the laws, though affecting no more concealment in their practices than is just suf- ficient for that purpose. Sturdy vagabonds are to be found everywhere ; and tramping beg- gars are continually carrying with them, from place to place, measles, small-pox and hooping- * Sykerliclie, s\Te knyght, saide Peers thenne, Ich shal swynke and swete and sowe for hus bothe, And laboure for the while thou levest, al thy lyf tyme, In covenaunt that thou kepe holy churche and me selve For wastours and wyckede men that thus worlde struen ; And go honte hardiliche to hares and to foxes, To bores and to bockes that breketh a doune menne hegges ; And fatte thy faucones to cull wylde foules, For thei conien to my croft my corn to defoule. Peirs Plouhman. Passus, 9. p. 129. Whiltaker's Edition, 208 CRIMINALS. coiig-li. Our ancestors were better protected when the leper was not allowed to go abroad without his clapper or his bell. SIR THOMAS MORE. It has not been for lack of laws that this evil continues, but of vigilance in those who ought to execute them, and for want of that polity, that discipline, that order, the rudiments of which were distinctly marked in your constitution, but from which, it may be seen, that during many generations you have been departing more and more. This, although now an old and inveterate evil, might be eradicated by vigo- rous treatment ; and will be so whenever some long interval of peace brings it to an intolerable degree, and a cessation of faction allows your Government leisure for making the immediate good of the people its chief object. The pro- verb says, that when things are at the worst, they mend ; this is one of those which, when at the worst, must be mended. It is also wholly "within the reach of remedial laws, without re- quiring any previous improvement in public feel- ing, or change in manners, tlic remedy itself tending to produce both. But such an improve- ment and such a change must, it is to be feared, prcced(; any sensible amendment in the con- dition of women so circumstanced as you have WOMEN. 209 described ; . . to be feared, I say, because devoutly as such an amendment must be wished, it is mournful to consider how many causes are co- operating- for the continuance and increase of the evil, and how little likelihood there appears of attracting the public attention to anything- that might be proposed for alleviating it. Your manners present one obstacle : on the continent women take a much greater share in business than is usual in this country, and this without being in any degree unfitted thereby for their domestic duties, but on the contrary becoming- more truly their husband's helpmates; with you men have intruded into many of those branches of trade which might as well, and far more be- comingly, be carried on by the other sex. You endeavoured to vindicate your countrymen from the imputation of pride ; look at the charge in connection with this subject, and ask yourself, after such re-consideration, whether it may not be alleged against them with severe but perfect truth. Men are not disqualified oy their en- gagements in trade from being received in high society ; but from the moment that a well-born or well-educated woman emplovs her acquire- ments in obtaining for herself the means of sub- sistence, she loses her caste. The word is odi- ous, and so is the state of things which it im- VOL. II. p 210 WOMEN. plies ; but it is more odious where it exists as here, in exception to the general course of feeling, than where it is the established order, under which individuals are born, and to which therefore their habits and expectations are ac- commodated. How large is the number of those persons among you, who by birth, con- nections, profession or occupation, hold a re- spectable station in society, deriving their means meantime mainly, if not entirely, from a life- income, or depending for support upon the yet more precarious tenure of their own exertions. The customs of the world in most cases, . . the absolute necessity in many, . . of making an ap- pearance correspondent to their station, compels them to live to the extent of their resources ; and thus upon the death of the father of a family, or the more pitiable case of his hopeless disable- ment, those whom he may leave, and who were dependent upon him, are at once reduced to dis- tress and degradation. How large a proportion of the men in every profession are in this fearful predicament ! Add to this, that commerce in most of its branches has been converted by the greedy spirit of the age, from a regular busi- ness of patient industry into a game of hazard ; insomuch that the safety of even the most honour- able, upright and careful merchant is no longer WOMEN. 211 in liis own keeping, but depends, in a most perilous degree, upon the conduct of others, against whose want of prudence or of principle he cannot insure, as he can against the danger of the seas ! Methinks it should make a living heart ache, to think whenever this land of credit is shaken by a commercial earthquake, how many a goodly fabric of happiness is laid in ruins ; and to know how many women, who have been bred up among all the refinements of affluence, and with the expectation that their fortune was in no danger of any such reverse, are reduced to seek for themselves a scanty and precarious sup- port, by the exercise of those talents which had been cultivated for recreation or for display ; and who, while they thus earn the bread of bitter- ness, have but too much cause for saying with the son of Sirach, * O Death, acceptable is thy sentence unto the needy !' In your hard-hearted society misfortune is not considered as affording any claim to respect, . . scarcely to compassion. You have no convents, no religious communities in which such persons may be received and sheltered. Earth has no other asylum for them than its own cold bosom. MONTESINOS. And yet these are not the griefs under which the spirit gives way and the heart breaks. In p 2 212 WOMEN. such cases such virtuous exertions are made, so much equanimity is manifested, so much good- ness is seen, as to make it apparent that He ' "Who gives the burthen gives tlie strengtli to bear.' Lord Sterline. Happy were it for us ail if we bore prosperity as well and wisely as we endure an adverse fortune. The reason wherefore it is not so, I suppose to be, that the same disposition which in the one state ferments into pride, in the other is refined into fortitude ; and that cares, which eat the heart, are less injurious to our spiritual nature than vanities that inflate it and corrupt it. ' To ' miss the good which may be got by suffering ' evil,' says one* of our old divines, ' is the worst ' of evils ; to lose that gain which should be * gotten by losses, is of losses the greatest ; but ' to grow worse with suffering evil, is perdition ' itself.' Men are often found under this con- demnation ; women, I think, but seldom. The sons of perdition are more numerous tlian the daughters. If women are not made of finer clay, there has been more of the dew of heaven to temper it. Or is it that ' though f the dews of * Divine Grace fall everywhere, yet they lie * Uarnabas Olcy. Note to Jackson's Works, vol. iii. ]>. 072. t I'atrick's Pilgrim. WOMEN. 213 ' longest in the shade ;' and women, in the usual course of life, keep in the shade, while men brave the wind, seek the sunshine, and are ex- posed to all weathers ? SIR THOMAS MORE. Society, though in some respects it bears hard upon women, is favourable to them in this, that their path of duty is strictly defined by its laws, and that even such of its habits as are least in accord with a religious life, intrench not upon the precincts of their religious belief. The maxim that if honour were lost among the rest of mankind, it ought still to be found in the breast of kings, was a brave one, and worthy to have proceeded from a better man than the one who uttered it. More true is it that if relio-ion were everywhere exploded, it would retain its place in the heart of woman. Wherefore is it then that this principle, of all principles the most powerful, has never been brought into ac- tion for the relief of women under such circum- stances of adverse fortune as those to which, in the changes and chances of your unstable so- ciety, they are always liable? A mad woman can raise a sect among you ; a profligate and revengeful one can endanger the state. How is it, and in a nation too which is so easily moved, that among all the forms which enthusiasm is con- 214 WOMEN. tinnally taking,. . among all the channels into which public charity is directed by individual exertions, . . an end so worthy, . .an object so be- neficial, so needful, so pious, as that of providing a ready and honourable retreat for such persons, should have been overlooked ? Zeal abounds among you : enthusiasm, ... I use the word in its virtuous sense, ...is ready to answer any call that may be made upon it ; and the kind of bounty which is required, overflows at this time and runs to waste. But where is the woman who shall be the Clara or the Teresa of Protestant England, labourinof for the certain benefit of her sex with their ardour, but without their delusion and fatal superstition, which have entailed such misery upon thousands ! MONTESINOS. An experiment of this kind has been under- taken : it remains to be seen whether this gene- ration will have the honour of supporting it, or the disgrace of suffering it to fail. That which is most essential, and which might have seemed most diflicult to find, was found : an institutress who devotes her fortunes, her influence, and her life, to this generous purpose ; and who, to every other advantage, adds that of rank. Her insti- tution has not the sanction only, but the cordial approljation of persons in the highest rank ; but LADIES' ASSOCIATION. 215 efficient patronage is still wanting ; nor is it likely to obtain that general attention and con- sequent support which its general utility deserves. The likeliest chance for its being rendered per- manent seems to be from posthumous bounty, if some of those persons (and such there are in every generation) who bequeath large sums for pious purposes, should perceive that no purpose can be more pious than this. SIR THOMAS 3I0RE. Has it failed to obtain the attention which it deserves because it is too reasonable, or owing to any defect inherent in the scheme itself? MONTESINOS. I can discern in the scheme no other defect than the inevitable one that its appeal for sup- port is made to the higher orders, and that large sums may be raised with more facility and more certainty by small contributions, among an ex- tensive public, than by the most liberal donations that can be looked for in a limited circle. Pos- sibly, too, the causes which you suspect may operate against it. There is no appeal to en- thusiasm, none to the imagination ; no sacrifices are to be made, no difficulties to be encountered, no wonders to be achieved ; and, . . which is yet more unfavourable, . . no public meetings for pro- moting it are held : no speeches in favour of it 216 LADIES' ASSOCIATION. are delivered upon platforms, and reported in newspapers ; no Ladies" Committees are formed to collect contributions ; and no Vanity Fair opened in aid of the funds, under the title of a Ladies' Bazaar.* SIR THOMAS MORE. There is no endowment then for this Insti- tution ? MONTESIXOS. None. It was hoped that from ten to fifteen thousand pounds might have been raised, which * ' I wisli,' says a correspondent, ' you would bestow some ' remarks upon tlie Ladies' Bazaars, Repositories, Fairs, &c. . . ' for (to say notliing of tlieir detestable exlubitory character) ' you cannot think the mischief they are doing to little toy- ' shop-keei)ers, and ])oor women who got their bread by those ' knicknacks, the sale of which is now monopolized by the ' ladies. A friend of mine went into a shop in Burlington ' Arcade lately, to purchase some trifle, and on her remarking ' how little choice there was, the shojjkceper said, that all in ' her way of business were half ruined by " the charitable la- ' dies," who came and bought the first of any pretty new-in- ' vented toy, set to work themselves, and so spoilt the trades- ' man's market. ' " There 1 " said a young lady of rank to one of lier ac- ' quaintance, pointing to a young mustachioed lancer, who ' had just turned from the booth where she was selling her ' wares ; . . " there, . . I have just made him pay me fifteen sliil- ' lings for a pair of garters ! " How should you like to sec a ' daughter of yours acting charity in that style? ' LADIES' ASSOCIATION. 217 would have sufficed for putting it upon a per- manent establishment; but though the Queen, and the late Princess Charlotte, and the other Princesses, contributed to the subscription, not five thousand were collected ; and the experiment could not have been made, had it not been for the support afforded it by the Institutress, Lady Isabella King, and by those members who were able to pay a high rent for their apartments, . . . the scheme being devised for three classes, dif- fering in point of fortune, but upon an equal footing in education, principles, and manners. The wealthier members contribute, by their larger payments, to the support of the establish- ment : the second class pay fifty pounds each, per year, for their apartments and board ; and there is a third class who, having no means of their own, though in other respects peculiarly fitted for such an institution, as well as peculiarly in need of such an asylum, are appointed to offi- cial situations, with salaries annexed. A school for female orphans, belonging to the same rank of life, is to be engrafted on the scheme, whenever funds shall be obtained for it. No habit is worn: the institution has necessarily its regulations, to which all the members are expected to conform, but there is nothing approaching to what, in your days, would have been called a rule. It 218 LADIES' ASSOCIATION. must be needless to say that no vows are re- quired, nor even an engagement for any term of years. The scheme has succeeded upon trial, insomuch that the Queen, when she visited it, said it was a blessed asylum ; and it would be as beneficial as it is practicable, if funds for ex- tending and rendering it permanent were forth- coming. SIR THOMAS MORE. Perhaps the scheme has not enough that is apparent. Esse qiiam videri is a wise motto for one who is worthy to wear it ; but not to be sculptured over the portals of an edifice which, while intended for a pious purpose, should at the same time be a monument of high civilization. Perhaps in this plan too little is asked from those who are disposed to be its benefactors, and too little oflTered them in return. Let us inquire what is desirable, and what mav be deemed at- tainable, in a country such as Great Britain is at this time. How have those eleemosynary esta- blishments been found to answer, which have been endowed since the suppression of the mo- nasteries ? MONTESINOS. The good they do is by no means commen- surate with the expenditure by which it is ob- tained. Owing in part, no doubt, to the total ALMS HOUSES. 219 want of a religious character, they have never become respectable in public opinion. Less cost than that at which the inmates in such commu- nities are supported, might enable them to live in a manner more conformable to their inclina- tions, if bestowed upon them in the way of pension, as in the case of the out-pensioners of Chelsea and Greenwich. The moral effect, also, would be better; for notwithstanding the old old song, which tells us that ' Crabbed age and youtli ' Cannot dwell together,' gradations of rank are not more beneficial in a commonwealth, than gradations of age are to the heart of man in his domestic circle. There are few people so entirely without connections, that if they derived from some eleemosynary fund a pension sufficient for their decent maintenance, they could not find some family into which, for relationship, or good Avill and mutual convenience, they might be admitted as inmates, and where thev miofht live in an interchanoe of eood offices, which it is as salutary to render as to receive. Such pensions, conferring independence, how- ever humble, would confer a certain degree of respectability, the more surely because good character would be deemed as necessary a quali- fication for the candidate as indigence : the best 220 ALMS HOUSES. consequence, however, would be, that the pen- sioner would not be taken out of the sphere of human charities. For, in alms-houses, a number of unhappy persons, unconnected with each other, are brought together, all of whom have been saddened, and the greater part too probably- soured, as well by age, infirmities, and the very course of misfortunes which has brought them to such an asylum ; and there, having no other employment, their uncomfortable feelings take the form of ill-will to one another, and of queru- lous discontent with a situation in which they feel the sense of degradation and the uneasiness of restraint. Such establishments, however, are in no respect analogous to that of which we are speaking; nor, indeed, could anything be more injurious to the success of the experiment, than to have it supposed that it partook, in any de- gree, of the same character. SIR THOMAS MORE. Right ; but useful inference is to be drawn from them ; for they show that human beings cannot live happily in constrained community of ha])its, without the aid of religious feeling, and without implicit obedience to a superior ; and these are things, which if they were desirable (and this may Ijc doubted), are not to be expected iu tiiese times. There must be a classifica- LADIES' ASSOCIATION. 221 tion of relief ; and in devising it for the higher classes, you may learn from these inferior esta- blishments the propriety of requiring that the inmates of a Protestant Convent should possess each an income of her own (whether from a salary, or from other sources), otherwise the respectability of the institution could not be maintained. For poverty brings with it worse con- sequences than that which Juvenal pronounced to be its worst : it is not necessarily connected with meanness and sordid habits, but it leads to them so naturally, that you cannot hope to keep them apart. MONTESINOS. Alas for humanity, whose frail virtues are parched when exposed to the sun ; or, if de- prived of sunshine, are nipt, and wither in the shade ! SIR THOMAS MORE. Say rather, alas for human institutions ! when, instead of aiming at the improvement of man's moral nature, they are at variance with it, and, favouring all its evil propensities, pamper one class of vices, and exasperate another ! In such establishments as are desired, and must, because of the necessity for tliem, be in- stituted ere long (whatever be the issue of the present experiment), unless you become retro- grade in civilization, it will not be difficult to 222 LADIES' ASSOCIATION. hold a safe and even course between the too little and the too much. They will partake rather of the character of colleges than of con- vents. The fewer regulations the better ; none beyond what are indispensable for the well being of the community : even a common table is not to be recommended : the members may better be left to choose their own society, and to make all minor arrangements among themselves. But uniformity of dress would be proper, for pre- venting expense and vanity, and. for a visible sign, which might attract notice, and if the habit were at once grave, convenient and grace- ful, would ensure respect. In like manner, for the sake of effect, the domicile ought to have an appearance in character with its purpose. Your mortmain laws were necessary when they were enacted : is there any reason why they should not be repealed now that the necessity for them has ceased to exist? MONTESIXOS. None, . . if the laws against Monks, Friars, .Jesuits, and Regulars of every description, were enforced as they ought to be. They have, in some cases, frustrated good and generous in- tentions, and, in others, have diverted into the hands of the lawyers no small portion of pro- perty be(|ueuthed to better uses. Under the Land Tax Redemption Act something more than LADIES' ASSOCIATION. 223 £100,000 per annum of Churcli Lands were sold, whereby thrice as much land as that rental would represent was freed from mortmain. It must be evident, therefore, that no inconvenience could arise (proper precautions being taken against that pestilent superstition which is spreading amongst us !) ... from replacing in this kind of tenure as much land as could be required for any beneficial purposes. Not that land is to be deemed so advisable for any permanent revenue in such cases as the public funds. Experience has but too well proved that stewards are not always faithful in the care of charitable donations ; and it has proved also that land so appropriated is far from being- secure durino- the desolatino- course of revolu- tion. Indeed, funded property is more likely to be recovered, by inscription in some Great Book (as in France), when the storm is past. A local habitation, therefore, is all that should be desired when a secular nunnery, or rather a college for women, is to be established ; with just ground enough for use, for recreation, and for becoming ornament, . . enough to preserve the respectability of its appearance and to pre- vent intrusion. The spirit which built cathe- drals and founded convents is not extinguished, and never will be extinct, while man retains in him a spark of the divine nature. Nor can I 224 LADIES' ASSOCIATION. be persuaded, that the religion is wanting by which miracles are wrought, and mountains may be removed, when I know what has been eifected in this generation by Protestant missionaries, and with what true faith and well-directed zeal they are labouring at this time. SIR THOMAS MORE. The difficulties here to be removed are but as molehills. Money alone is wanted, . . money from the noble and the wealthy, so to be applied as would increase' their means of beneficence. Were the edifice ready it might be expected that as such persons in former times founded clian- tries for the sake of relieving the souls of their ancestors, they would now, in prospective kind- ness to those of their own blood, found bursaries for such a college, reserving to themselves and their heirs the right of presentation. The build- ing itself might be facilitated by a condition, that every benefactor who erected a set of cham- bers, should thereby acquire a right (alienable by will, gift, or sale, like any other property) of nominating an inmate. Considering how greatly patronage is, and ever must be, desired in a state of society like yours, it may reasonably be supposed, that there would be no opulent or noble family, whicli would not, for its own repu- tation, and remote interest, as well as for the satisfaction of securing to itself the sure means LADIES' ASSOCIATION. 225 of doing good, while it conferred a favour, in- vest some of its money thus. One institution of this kind having been established, the example would be followed, and there would soon be no large town in this wealthy island, without such a Gyneeceum in its vicinity, and no woman of rank and fortune but would have a bursary in her gift. MONTESINOS. The business of female education would na- turally be transferred to these institutions gra- dually, and to the evident advantage of all parties : the parents would here be secured against the danger of trusting their daughters to the care of careless or unworthy persons ; girls would have the advantage of elder society ; and the class of women who are now employed in tuition, would find there the asylum which they need, the respectability of station which they deserve, and as much, or as little, as they might choose to undertake of the employment for which their talents and acquirements qualify them. SIR THOMAS MORE. Thus then you would have all the good which nunneries pretend to offer, and which under some circumstances they have afforded. The enthusiasm which is restless in inaction would not be satisfied there : but for such enthusiasm VOL. II. Q 226 LADIES' ASSOCIATION. the scheme is not intended ; it is for sober piety, for the meek, the retiring, and the gentle, whom nature has enabled rather to suffer than to act, and who would thus be saved from suffering, not indeed the numerous evils which tiesh is heir to, but all those (and they are hardly less numerous) which reverses of fortune bring with them. Yet, Montesinos, you must not suppose that I dis- parage enthusiasm, which, if allied to madness, is akin to it only in the same degree that genius is ; and without which nothing that is magnani- mous will be contemplated, . . . nothing that is above the level of every-day life, or out of its course, will be attempted, . . nothing that is great will be accomplished. The material difficulties which must be overcome before a first Gynaeceum can be established, are, as I called them, mole- hills ; there are moral ones in the way which will appear like mountains to the children of this world, but these an enthusiast may remove by faith, and the works of faith, ... by hope, and cha- rity, and exertion, by ardour and by perseverance; without these, righteous enthusiasm is not to be found, and with them it creates the means where- by its ends are to be effected. There is work enough for it abroad and at home ; work enough for all (it is of women that I am now speaking) who feci in themselves the strength of heroic BEGUINES. 227 virtue, and aspire to its rewards, and shrink not from the scenes into which, in its exercise, it would carry them. Such women you have among you ; there are such, and there ever will be such, in every generation. Why then have you no Be- guines, no Sisters of Charity ? why, in the most needful, the most merciful form that charity can take, have you not yet followed the example of the French and the Netherlanders ? No Vincent de Paul has been heard in your pulpits : no Louise le Gras has appeared among the daughters of Great Britain ! Piety has found its way into your prisons ; your hospitals are imploring it in vain ; nothing is wanting in them but religious charity ; and oh what a want is that ! and how different would be the moral effect which these medical schools produce upon the pupils edu- cated there, if this lamentable deficiency were supplied ! I know not whether they or the pa- tients suffer most from its absence. Many are the lives which might be saved by it ; many are the deathbeds to which it would administer a conso- lation that is now too often wanted ! and many are the young hearts which would be preserved, by its purifying and ennobling presence, from an infection worse than any evil influence which affects the life alone. A school of medicine ought also to be a school of Christian humanity ; Q 2 228 BEGUINES. when it is not so, tlie profession wliicli of all others ought most to soften the heart, tends sure- liest to corrupt and harden it. MOXTESINOS. It is not to the hospitals alone that this blessed spirit of charity might be directed ; while it reformed those establishments by its presence, it would lessen the pressure upon them by seeking- out the sick; and attending- them in their own habitations. These measures have been ably and eloquently recommended *, and though no visible effect has yet been produced by the appeal, the seed which has been cast upon the waters will be found after many days. sill THOMAS MORE. Thy pulse, Montesinos, plays not as it was wont to do in youth ! otlierwise there would not have been that expression of cold contented pa- tience, in a case where there arc no diHiculties * In a panii)lilct ontitlcd ' Protestant Sisters of Charity : ' a Letter addressed to tlie Lord Bisliop of London, developing a plan for improvinpf the arrangements at present existing for administering medical advice, and visiting the sick poor, Lon- don, 1826. In Blackwood's Magazine for December, 1825 ; and ill two Letters in tlie London Medical Gazette. The pani])hlet I earnestly recommend to my readers' notice ; tlie two Letters and an extract fruiu the Jlagazine will be found appended to the volume. BEGUINES. 229 but what earnest ardour may overcome. Disease and wretchedness are as constant in their course as time ; the compassion, the tenderness, . . . whereby, in a far greater degree than by any human skill when these are wanting, they are to be alleviated and lessened, exist among you, but they are latent, and require to be called forth and put in action. And until this be done, it is the duty of those to whom the pulpit or the press is open, if they feel as they ought to do for their suffering fellow-creatures, to awaken these virtues, and direct into useful channels the enthusiasm which too often runs wild, and goes to waste. MONTESINOS. A call of this kind must not be looked for from the pulpit, at least not from the Church pulpits. To make it there would require a spirit of en- thusiasm, which they whose duty it is to keep things in order, and within their appointed bounds, seek always to repress. SIR THOMAS MORE. Say rather to regulate than to repress, . . . for woe to the Church in which that spirit should be quenched ! It is in the nature of things that the still waters of an establishment should have a tendency to stagnate : they would cease to be living waters, if they were not sometimes, 230 BEGUINES. like the Pool of Bethesda, troubled by an Ano-el ! o MONTESINOS. The Church pulpits would not be silent when an appeal was to be made, in support of such a scheme, to that charity which consists in alms- giving. They would make the appeal powerfully, and it would be cheerfully answered. But the impulse must first be given by some moving mind, . . by some one ' blessed above women,' who has set her heart on heaven, yet feels that the praise of men may sometimes be necessary for effecting a great work of goodness ; and that it may be part of her duty to leave behind her, in this world, a stirring and illustrious example, . . that which has been called the last infirmity of noble minds, becoming here the righteous am- bition and wise desire of a sanctified one. SIR THOMAS MORE. Know you such a woman ? MONTESINOS. One such is known at this time in our prisons : had her zeal taken this direction, all that we are now desiderating would have been done. I have another in my mind's eye ; . . one who has been the liveliest of the Hvel}^, the gayest of the gay; admired for licr talents by those who knew lier only in her writings, and esteemed for her worth BEGUINES. 231 by those who were acquainted with her in the relations of private life ; one who, having grown up in the laxest sect of semi-Christians, felt the necessity of vital religion, while attending upon her father with dutiful affection, during the long and painful infirmities of his old age ; and who has now joined a sect distinguished from all others by its formalities and enthusiasm, because it was amono- its members that she first found the lively faith for which her soul thirsted. She has assumed the garb, and even the shibboleth of the sect, not losing in the change her warmth of heart and cheerfulness of spirit, nor gaining by it any increase of sincerity and frankness, . . for with these nature had endued her, and society, even that of the great, had not corrupted them. The resolution, the activity, the genius, the be nevolence, which are required for such a work, are to be found in her : and were she present in person as she is in imagination, I would say to her . . . Thou art the woman ! SIR THOMAS MORE. You look to sectarians for the service which is thus to be rendered to humanity. Is this a virtual confession, that it would be vain to hope for such a manifestation of benevolence among the members of the national Church ? 232 BEGUINES. MONTESINOS. Supposing the religious feeling in the indi- vidual to be equally ardent, the circumstances equally fitting, and the personal qualifications alike, I should expect that among the Quakers, rather than any other community, persons would be found to take up a project like this, with the ardour that is required for it ; because their in- stitutions favour both the disposition and the direction of it. A Quakeress does not extrava- gate when she engages in such an enterprize, as that of attempting to reform the wretched inha- bitants of a London prison : she not only believes herself to be keeping the straight path of duty when upon such a pursuit, but is confirmed in that belief by the principles of her sect, and the opinion of the little world in which she moves ; in many of her own faitli she meets with active co-operation as well as sincere sympathy, a still greater number regard her with admiration, and to the whole body, both in America and Great Britain, she becomes an object of respect and honour and pride. The discipline of the Quakers which breaks in its members to habits of quie- tude, forbearance, meekness, and exemplary self- command, allows large licence to enthusiasm, and, indeed, sets no bounds to it when it takes the course of benevolent exertion. 7\monu- ns it BEGUINES. 233 would require a high degree of excitement, for a woman, however beneficent and pious, to venture upon what a Quakeress would undertake in her habitual state of mind : the former would incur the reproach, or the suspicion of insanity, for what, if done by the latter, would call forth no surprize. The usages of society restrain us here, more perhaps than the spirit of our Church, which however tends insensibly to torpify what it always avoids to stimulate. SIR THOMAS MORE. Ex illo retro finer e et suhlapsa referri Res Danaiim ! MONTESINOS. I would reply to the Trojan who should tell me so, that its tide is not ebbing, but holds on in the quietness of its even course, a deep and mighty stream, in omne voluhilis ceviim. If the tendency of the national church is to produce a sober uniformity of which torpor or indifterence is the besetting sin, rather than to excite or en- courage what may be called an extramundane zeal, this has not arisen from any mispersuasion^ or error prepense. There has been no lack of heroic virtue in the English Church, whenever unhappy times have called for its manifestation : witness the noble army of its martyrs under the bloody reign ; witness its confessors during the 234 BEGUINES. Great Rebellion ; witness tlie resistance, in the next generation, to those measures which, if not so resisted, would have re-established popery and arbitrary power in these kingdoms. In forming, or rather in reforming, our ecclesias- tical establishment, Cranmer and Ridley, and their more fortunate successors, had on the one hand to guard against the pomps and vanities of Romish superstition, on the other, against the ex- travagances of enthusiasm, running wild as soon as it had broken its reins : but they were doubly fearful of enthusiasm, because they saw on both sides the evils and abominations to which it may be perverted ; for the frantic crimes of the Ana- baptists are not more revolting than the blas- phemous legends which the Romish Church has sent abroad and ratified with the stamp of its infallibility, whenever some wretched friar or nun was found insane enough to be its tool, or im- pious enough to become its agent. Tlius it has come to pass, that in its righteous desire of shunning all evil, or occasion of evil, our Church has foregone a powerful, though a dangerous means of doing good. For the same reason that we have had no Ida of Louvain, no Catharine of Sienna or Bologna, no Veronica, no Mary Mag- dalene of Pazzi, no Sister Providence or Sister Nativitr, . . lor that same reason wc have had no Louise dc Gras. BEGUINES. 235 Wherefore Protestantism lias not liad its Be- guines, may thus be explained with regard to England, The community had no establishment here before the Reformation, and for the reason which has been assigned, its institution after- wards was not to be expected ; but why they are not found in the Protestant parts of the conti- nent, is a question which cannot be answered so creditably for the Reformed Churches. Nothing in ecclesiastical history is more uncertain than the origin of the Beo^uines. Their numbers were greatly increased during the Crusades ; for very many women of the higher and middle ranks, being, in that age of enthusiastic military devo- tion, left by their husbands and other natural protectors, enrolled themselves for security in a sisterhood, who enjoyed the respectability and comparative safety of a religious order, but were neither bound by vows, nor subjected to any unnatural austerities. But because of these ex- emptions, and also because, being a most useful society, they were favoured by the people, they became objects of jealousy to the whole regi- mented forces of the Romish Church. The nuns hated them because they envied their liberty. The Tertiaries, both Dominican and Franciscan, regarded them as rivals in public opinion, and thus drew upon them the enmity of the two great 23G BEGUINES. mendicant orders, who never acted with unani- mity except it was to persecute, and then they always heartily co-operated. The clergy dis- countenanced and opposed them, thinking every thing ill bestowed which was not bestowed upon themselves ; and the Beguines, deservedly popu- lar as they were, had to contend against the selfishness of common nature, . . for persons, who would have been well pleased if a female rela- tion took the veil as a nun, opposed her entrance into a Beguinage, because in that case, not be- coming dead to the world, she retained her pro- perty. These concurring causes drew on them much vexation, and no small share of persecu- tion ; notwithstanding which they became so numerous, that in the fourteenth century the Bishop of Strasburg estimated them at 200,000. Among such numbers, where the forlorn sought for protection, the unhappy and the bereaved for the peace of mind which accompanies the consciousness of being virtuously employed, and the enthusiastic for sympathy and for the oppor- tunity of laying up a treasure of good works, there it must needs have been that many would seek admission for mixed motives, and with less worthy intentions, and that licentiousness would sometimes be found \uidcr the hood and habit of hypocrisy. The abuses which thus occurred were BEGUINES. 237 incident to the order, not arising (as in convents) from an original error in its constitution, and there- fore inherent in it ; they were remedied by a pru- dent law, prescribing- that no woman should be admitted into the community till she was forty years of age. When the Beghards were perse- cuted, the Beguines came under the same imputa- tion of heresy, and both were said to have derived their heretical opinions from reading the Scrip- tures in their own tongue. Many of the Beg- hards, in the hope of escaping martyrdom, took shelter in the ranks of the Observant Francis- cans, a limb of the Seraphic tree, whose branches continually afforded loppings for the bonfires of the inquisition ; but at the Reformation, both Beghards and Beguines, throughout Ger- many, very generally became Lutherans. The Beghards are heard of no more ; how it came to pass that the Beguines should from that time have continued to exist exclusively as a Romish community, is thus to be explained, . . that in Roman Catholic countries they continued to hold their possessions, while in those parts of the con- tinent where the Reformation prevailed, the ra- pacity which impoverished the Church made no distinction between them and the superstitious orders : such sisters, therefore, in those parts, as adhered to the Romish Church, or who, regard- 238 BEGUINES. ing- little tlie difference of belief, were dutifully attached to their own way of life, removed to the Beguinages which had escaped the storm*. They were then favoured instead of being persecuted as in former times ; and there they have continued to flourish, for the credit of the Romish Church, and for the good of humanity. Scandal has ceased to attack them; and though they were plundered during- the first years of the Revolu- tion, yet even then their utility was so generally acknowledged, that (like the Hospital Nuns in France) they were supported by public feeling against the madness of the times. * The best account of the Beguines is in Mosheim's posthu- mous work, De Beghardis et Begiiinabus. (Lipsioe, 1790.) He has very well characterised the work of his predecessor, Ryckel, in which there is a great deal of curious matter, with the least possible information concerning the real history of the order. Tlie title of this book is, Vita S. Beggee, Dncissee Brabanlia;, Andetennenmim, Begginamm et Beggardorum Fv ndatricis : vetvs, hactemts 71011 edita, et Commcntario illus- trata. Adjuncta est Jlistoria Begginasiorvm Belgii. Auc- tore Josrpho Geldolpho a Ryckd ab Oorbceck, Abbate S. Gertrudis Lovanivnsn. Lovanii, 1631. (small 4to.) Ano- ther work of Kyckel's should accompany it, Historia S. Ger- trudis, Priiicipis Virgiiiis, PrivKs Nivdlcnsis Abbalissa:. Nolis et Jiguris ccneis subinde ilhistrata opera et impensd Joscphi Gerdolphi a liyckel, Abbatis S. Gertrudis Lovanii. Bruxellue, l(i37. (small 4to.) These crude, curious, and amusing works, written by a man of much learning and more credulity, are rarely to be procured. BEGUINES. 239 The Protestants were formerly reproached for making no exertions to spread the Gospel among- heathen nations. That reproach has been done away. Within the course of thirty years, I have seen the unpromising commencement of the Pro- testant missions, their patient progress, and the success with which God is blessing them. Thirty years hence, this other reproach may also be effaced, and England have its Beguines and its Sisters of Charity. It is grievously in need of them ! There is nothing Romish, nothing su- perstitious, nothing fanatical in such associations; nothing but what is righteous and holy ; nothing but what properly belongs to that ^qria-xsla, that religious service which the Apostle James, the brother of our Lord, has told us is pure and un- defiled before God and the Father. They who shall see such societies instituted and flourishing here, may have a better hope that it may please the Almighty to continue his manifold mercies to this island, notwithstanding the errors which endanger it, and the offences which cry to Heaven*. * I will add here an account of the Beguinage in Client, extracted from a journal written in 1815. ' The indst interesting object in Ghent to me, and indeed ' the most remarkable, is the Beguinage, which is the principal ' establishment of the order, and very much the largest. It is 240 BEGUINES. at one end of the city, and entirely enclosed, being indeed a little town of itself. You enter through a gateway, over which there is an image of Queen St. Elizabeth of Hungary, the Patron Saint, or Saint- Patroness of the institution. The sjxace inclosed cannot be less than the area of the whole town of Keswick ; but the Beguinage is unlike alms-house, college, village, or town. It is a collection of contiguous houses of different sizes, each with a small garden in front, and a high well-built brick wall inclosing them all. Upon every door is the name, not of the tenants, but of the Saint under whose protection the tenement is placed ; there is no opening in the door through which anything can be seen, so that in this re- spect the clausure is complete. There are several streets thus built, with houses on both sides. The silence and soli- tude of such streets may easily be imagined, and the effect is very striking upon entering there from the busy streets of Ghent : you seem to be in a different worhl. There is a large church within the precincts ; a burial ground, in wliich there are no monuments ; a brancli from one of the many rivers or canals wherewith Ghent is intersected, in which the wash- ing of the community is performed, from a large boat ; and a large piece of ground planted with trees, where the clotlies are dried. ' Our ajjpcarance here, and the evident curiosity with which we were perambulating a place seldom visited by strangers, attracted notice ; and we were at length courteously accosted by a sister, who proved to be the second personage in the community. She showed us the interior, and gave us such explanations as we desired. It is curious that she seemed to know nothing of the origin of the order, nor by whom it is said to have been founded ; nor could she refer me to any book containing either its history or its rule. * According to this lady, there are at this lime about si.\ BEGUINES. 241 thousand Cegulnes in Brabant and Flanders, to uhicli coun- tries they are confined ; six hundred and twenty of these are resident liere. They were ricli before the Revolution ; then, in the general spoliation, their lands were taken from them, and they were commanded to lay aside their distinguishing dress ; but this mandate was only obeyed in part, because public opinion, even then, was strongly in their favour, and they were of such manifest utility to all ranks, that very few, however otherwise malignant, were disposed to injure them. They receive the sick who come to them for succour, and they support as well as attend them as long as the case may re- quire. They go out also to nurse the sick, when their ser- vices are asked for. They are not bound by any vows, and Madame Devolder (this was the name of our obliging in- formant) assured us with an air of becoming pride, that no instance of a Beguine withdrawing from the order had ever been known. The reason was obvious ; the institution is in itself reasonable and useful, as well as hvunane and religious; no person is compelled to enter it, because there is no vow, no clausure, and no person who wished to withdraw could be compelled to stay : and I suppose their numbers are generally, if not wholly, filled up by women who, when their youth is gone by, seek a retirement, or need an asylum, from the world. Madame Devolder herself entered after the death of her husband. The property which a Beguine brings with her, reverts to her heirs-at-law upon her decease. ' During the Revolution, the church of this Beguinage was sold, as being confiscated property belonging to a suppressed order. The sale was a mere device, or, in English phrase, a job, to accommodate some partizan of the ruling demagogues with ready money. Such a person bought it for a nominal price, and in the course of two or three weeks sold it for 300 Louis-d'or to Madame Devolder and another sister ; who, as VOL. II. It 242 BEGUINES. ' soon as they could, made it over once more to the com- ' munity. ' The sisters dine in the Refectory, if they please, but any ' one who chooses may have dinner sent from thence to her * o\\Ti apartments. We were taken into three of these cham- ' bers ; they are small, and furnished with little more than ' necessary comforts, but those comforts are there, and they ' are rem.arkably clean. In one, a sister who has been bed- ' ridden many years, was sitting up in bed, knitting : we were ' introduced into her chamber, because Madame De voider said ' it amused her to see visitors, though she could not converse * with us, for she spoke no French, and there was no Flemish ' tongue in our party. Two sisters were spinning in another ' chamber, one of whom was 83 years of age, the other 85. ' The habit of the Beguines is not inconvenient, but it is * abominably ugly ; as the habit of every female order is, I be- * lieve, without exception.' Ryckel (§71, p. 315) says, this Beguinage was founded about the year 1234, by Joanna and Margareta, countesses of Flanders. None of the present buildings appear to be as old as his own days ; the former edifices were probably destroyed during some of the sieges which Ghent has sustained. Before the religious wars, lie says, it had sometimes contained 7U0 inhabitants, when lie wrote they did not exceed 400. Est locus amplissimiis trhim et amplivs botiariorvm terrce. Ad- ditus et ampUtudini decor ; adco vt q%ii mvlla vidi'runt,fai€an- tur se pnlchrius nvllum vidisse. Olim a prima sua origine Juit extimum civitati, nunc intra pomeeria conclusum est. 243 COLLOQUY XIV. THE LIBRARY. I WAS in my library, making room upon the shelves for some books which had just arrived from New England, removing to a less conspi- cuous station others which were of less value and in worse dress, when Sir Thomas entered. You are employed, said he, to your heart's con- tent. Why, Montesinos, with these books, and the delight you take in their constant society, what have you to covet or desire ? MONTESINOS. Nothing, . . except more books. SIR THOMAS MORE. Crescit, indiilgens sibi, dims hydrops, MONTESINOS. Nay, nay, my ghostly monitor, this at least is no diseased desire ! If I covet more, it is for the want I feel and the use which I should make of them. ' Libraries,' says my good old friend George Dyer, a man as learned as he is benevolent, . . ' libraries are the wardrobes ' of literature, whence men, properly informed, ' might bring forth something for ornament, R 2 244 THE LIBRARY. ' mucli for curiosity, and more for use*.' These books of mine, as you well know, are not drawn up here for display, however much the pride of the eye may be gratified in beholding them ; they are on actual service. Whenever they may be dispersed, there is not one among them that will ever be more comfortably lodged, or more highly prized by its possessor ; and generations may pass away before some of them will again find a reader ... It is well that we do not moralize too much upon such subjects, . . For foresight is a melanclioly gift, AVliicli bares tlie bald, and speeds the all-too-svvift. H. T. But the dispersion of a library, whether in re- trospect or in anticipation, is always to me a melancholy thing. SIR THOMAS MORE. How many such dispersions must have taken place to have made it possible that these books should thus be brought together here among the Cumberland mountains ! MONTESINOS. Many, indeed; and in many instances most disastrous ones. Not a few of these volumes have been cast up IVoni the wreck of the family or convent libraries during the late llevolu- * History of Cambridge, vol. i. i). G. THE LIBRARY. 245 tion. Yonder Acta Sanctorum belonged to the Capuchines, at Ghent. This book of St. Brid- get's Revelations, in which not only all the initial letters are illuminated, but every capital throughout the volume was coloured, came from the Carmelite Nunnery at Bruges. That copy of Alain Chartier, from the Jesuits' College at Louvain ; that Imago Primi Scecidi Societatis, from their college at Ruremond. Here are books from Colbert's library ; here others from the Lamoignon one. And here are two volumes of a work*, not more rare than valuable for its contents, divorced, unhappily, and it is to be feared, for ever, from the one which should stand between them ; they were printed in a convent at Manila, and brought from thence when that city was taken by Sir William Draper ; they have given me, perhaps, as many pleasurable hours (past in acquiring information which I could not otherwise have obtained) as Sir Wil- liam spent years of anxiety and vexation in vainly soliciting the reward of his conquest. About a score of the more out-of-the-way works in my possession belonged to some un- known person, who seems carefully to have * Chronicles of tlie bare-footed Franciscans in the Phi- lipines, Chma, Japan, &c. Lam indebted for this very curious book to the kindness of my friend Sir Robert Harry Inghs, 24G THE LIBRARY. gleaned the hook-stalls a little before and after the year 1790. He marked them with certain ciphers, always at the end of the volume. They are in various languages, and I never found his mark in any book tliat was not worth buying, or that I should not have bought without that indication to induce me. All were in ragged condition, and having been dispersed, upon the owner^s death, probably as of no value, to the stalls they had returned ; and there I found this portion of them, just before my old haunts as a book-hunter in the metropolis were disforested, to make room for the improvements between Westminster and Oxford Road. I have endea- voured, without success, to discover the name of their former possessor. He must have been a remarkable man ; and the whole of his collec- tion, judging of it by that part which has come into my hands, must have been singularly curi- ous. A book is the more valuable to me when I know to whom it has belonged, and through what ' scenes and changes ' it lias past. SIR THOMAS MORE. You would have its history recorded in the fly leaf, as carefully as the pedigree of a race- horse is preserved. MOXTESINOS. I confess that T have much of that feeling in WALTER LANDOR. 247 which the superstition concerning relics has ori- ginated ; and I am sorry when I see the name of a former owner obliterated in a book, or the plate of his arms defaced. Poor memorials though they be, yet they are something saved for awhile from oblivion; and I should be almost as unwilling to destroy them, as to efface the Hie jacet of a tombstone. There may be some- times a pleasure in recognizing them, sometimes a salutary sadness. Yonder Chronicle of King D. Manoel, by Da- miam de Goes, and yonder General History of Spain, by Esteban de Garibay, are signed by their respective authors. The minds of these laborious and useful scholars are in their works ; but you are brought into a more per- sonal relation with them when you see the page upon which you know that their eyes have rested, and the very characters which their hands have traced. This copy of Casaubon's Epistles was sent to me from Florence, by Wal- ter Landor. He had perused it carefully, and to that perusal we are indebted for one of the most pleasing of his Conversations : these letters had carried him in spirit to the age of their writer, and shown James I. to him in the light whereni James was regarded by contemporary scholars ; and under the impression thus produced, Landor 248 THE LIBRARY. has written of him in his happiest mood, calmly, philosophically, feelingly, and with no more of favourable leaning- than justice will always ma- nifest when justice is in good humour, and in charity with all men. The book came from the palace library at Milan, . . how, or when ab- stracted, I know not ; but this beautiful dialog'ue would never have been written had it remained there in its place upon the shelf, for the worms to finish the work which they had begun. Isaac Casaubon must be in your society, Sir Thomas, . . for where Erasmus is, you will be, and there also Casaubon will have his place among the wise and the good. Tell him, I pray you, that due honour has in these days been rendered to his name by one who, as a scholar, is qualified to appreciate his merits, and whose writings will be more durable than monuments of brass or marble. SIR THOMAS MORE. Is there no message to him from Walter Lan- der's friend? MONTESINOS. Say to him, since you encourage me to such boldness, that his letters could scarcely have boon perused with deeper interest by the persons to whom they were addressed, than they have been by one, at the foot of Skiddaw, who is THE LIBRARY. 249 never more contentedly employed than when learning from the living minds of other ages ; one who would gladly have this expression of re- spect and gratitude conveyed to him ; and who trusts that, when his course is finished here, he shall see him face to face. Here is a book with which Lauderdale amused himself, when Cromwell kept him prisoner in Windsor Castle : he has recorded his state of mind during that imprisonment by inscribing in it, with his name, and the dates * of time and place, the Latin word Durate, and the Greek 'Oia-reov xa) eXTTicrreov. . . Here is a memorial of a different kind, inscribed in this ' Rule t of ' Penance of St. Francis, as it is ordered for re- ' ligious women.' . . ' I beseech my deare mother ' humbly to accept of this exposition of our holy ' rule, the better to conceive what your poor ' child ought to be, who daly beges your bless- ' ing. Constantia Francisco.'. .And here in the Apophthegmata, collected by Conrad Lycos- thenes, and published after drastic expurgation, by the Jesuits, as a common-place book, some * The date is 22 Oct. 1657. The book is the Pia Hilaria Angelini Gaz^ei, of which an edition in two volumes, 12nio. was that year published in London by E. Pepper, of Christ's College, Cambridge t Douay, 1644. 250 THE LIBRARY. Portugueze has entered a hearty vow * that he would never part with the book, nor lend it to any one. . .Very different was the disposition of my poor old Lisbon acquaintance, the Abbe, who, after the old humaner form, wrote in all his books (and he had a rare collection) Ex Ubris Francisci Ganiierj et amicorum. SIR THOMAS MORE. How peaceably they stand together, . . Papists and Protestants side by side ! MONTESINOS. Their very dust reposes not more quietly in the cemetery. Ancient and Modern, Jew and Gentile, Mahommedan and Crusader, French and English, Spaniards and Portugueze, Dutch and Brazilians, fighting their old battles, silently now, upon the same shelf: Fernam Lopez and Pedro de Ayala ; John de Laet and Barlaeus, with the historians of Joam Fernandes Vieira; Fox's Martyrs and the Three Conversions of Father Persons ; Cranmer and Stephen Gar- diner ; Dominican and Franciscan ; Jesuit and P/tilosophc (equally misnamed) ; Churchmen and Sectarians ; Roundheads and Cavaliers ! * Fago voto a Jesu Christo da nao largar este livro da mad e eniprcslalhc a algucm. Anno Dni. 1664. LITERATURE. 251 Here are God's conduits, grave divines ; and here Is nature's secretary, the philosopher : And wily statesmen, which teach how to tie The sinews of a city's mystic body ; Here gathering chroniclers : and by them stand Giddy fantastic poets of each land. Donne. Here I possess these gathered treasures of time, the harvest of so many generations, laid up in my garners : and when I go to the window, there is the lake, and the circle of the mountains, and the illimitable sky. SIR THOMAS MORE. Felicemqiie voco pariter studiique locique ! MONTESINOS, — meritoque probas artesque locumque. The simile of the bees. Sic vos non vobis mellijicatis apes, has often been applied to men who have made literature their profession ; and they among them to whom worldly wealth and worldly honours are objects of ambition, may have rea- son enough to acknowledge its applicability. But it will bear a happier application, and with equal fitness ; for, for whom is the purest honey hoarded that the bees of this world elaborate, if it be not for the man of letters ? The exploits of the kings and heroes of old, serve now to fill story books for his amusement and instruc- 252 LITERATURE. tion. It was to deliglit his leisure and call forth his admiration that Homer sung-, and Alexander conquered. It is to gratify his cu- riosity that adventurers have traversed deserts and savage countries^ and navigators have ex- plored the seas from pole to pole, lire revo- lutions of the planet which he inhabits are but matters for his speculation ; and the deluges and conflagrations which it has undergone, problems to exercise his philosophy, . . or fancy. He is the inheritor of whatever has been dis- covered by persevering labour, or created by inventive genius. The wise of all ages have heaped up a treasure for him, which rust doth not corrupt, and which thieves cannot break through and steal ... I must leave out the moth, . . for even in this climate care is required against its ravages. SIR THOMAS MORE. Yet, Montesinos, how often does the worm- eaten volume outlast the reputation of the worm- eaten author ! MONTESINOS. Of the living one also ; for many there are of whom it may be said, in the words of Vida, that. . . ipsi SfBpe suis supcranl monwnenlis ; iUaudaliqne ExlremiLm ante diem fcclits Jicverc caducon, Vivenlcsriue smcc vidcrunl fnurra fam(C. LITERATURE. 253 Some literary reputations die in the birth ; a few are nibbled to death by critics, . . but they are weakly ones that perish thus, such only as must otherwise soon have come to a natural death. Somewhat more numerous are those which are overfed with praise, and die of the surfeit. Brisk reputations, indeed, are like bot- tled twopenny, or pop, . . ' they sparkle, are exhaled, and fly,' . . not to heaven, but to the Limbo. To live among books is, in this respect, like living among the tombs; . .you have in them speaking remembrancers of mortality. ' Behold this also is vanity* ! ' SIR THOMAS MORE. Has it proved to you ' vexation ' of spirit also ? MONTESINOS. Oh no ! for never can any man's life have been past more in accord with his own inclina- tions, nor more answerably to his own desires. Excepting that peace which, through God's in- finite mercy, is derived from a higher source, it is to literature, humanly speaking, that I am * ' If,' says Bishop Bull, ' we would have our hearts brought ' off to God, and the serious pursuit of eternal things, let us ' daily study the vanity of this world, . . . Study it, did I say ? . . ' There seems little need of study, or deep search into this ' matter. This is a thing that thrusts itself upon our thoughts, ' so that wc must think of it, unless we thrust it from us.' — Vol. i. p. 211. 254 LITERATURE. beholden, not only for the means of subsistence, but for every blessing which I enjoy;. . health of mind and activity of mind, contentment, cheerfulness, continual employments, and there- with continual pleasure. Siiavissima vita indies sentire se fieri meliorem ; and this, as Bacon has said, and Clarendon repeated, is the benefit that a studious man enjoys in retirement. To the studies which I have faithfully pursued, I am indebted for friends with whom, hereafter, it will be deemed an honour to have lived in friendship ; and as for the enemies which they have pro- cured to me in sufficient numbers, . . happily I am not of the thin-skinned race, . . they might as well fire small shot at a rhinoceros, as direct their attacks* upon me. In omnibus requiem qiicesivi, said Thomas a Kempis, seel non invent nisi in angulis et libellis. I too have found re- pose where he did, in books and retirement, but it was there alone I sought it : to these my nature, under the direction of a merciful Provi- dence, led me betimes, and the world can offer nothing which should tempt me from them. * ' De odio improhorum adversus pietatem, non est quod ' te lantopere. moveat : hoc debebat, si hoc novum esset, bo?ios ' primum nunc ab improbis laccssi. A Deo incipiunt; in ' 7io« miliores esse nonpossujil. Ego in hac mililia veieranus * su7n.' Scaligcr, Isacio Cusaubono. Epiat. p. 165/ MULTIPLICATION OF BOOKS. 255 SIR THOMAS MORE. If wisdom were to be found in the multitude of books, what a progress must this nation have made in it since my head was cut off! A man in my days might offer to dispute de omni scibile, and in accepting the challenge I, as a young man, was not guilty of any extraordinary pre- sumption, for all which books could teach was, at that time, within the compass of a diligent and ardent student. Even then we had diffi- culties to contend with which were unknown to the ancients. The curse of Babel fell lightly upon them. The Greeks despised other nations too much, to think of acquiring their languages for the love of knowledge, and the Romans con- tented themselves with learning only the Greek. But tongues which, in my lifetime, were hardly formed, have since been refined and cultivated, and are become fertile in authors ; and others, the very names of which were then unknown in Europe, have been discovered and mastered by European scholars, and have been found rich in literature. The circle of knowledge has thus widened in every generation ; and you cannot now touch the circumference of what mio-ht for- merly have been claspt. MONTESINOS. We are fortunate, methinks, who live in an 256 MULTIPLICATION OF BOOKS. age when books are accessible and numerous, and yet not so multiplied as to render a com- petent, not to say thorough acquaintance with any one branch of literature, impossible. He has it yet in his power to know much, who can be contented to remain in ignorance of more, and to say with Scaliger, non sum ex illis glorio- sidis qui nihil ignorant. SIR THOMAS MORE. If one of the most learned men whom the world has ever seen, felt it becoming in him to say this two centuries ago, how infinitely smaller in these days must the share of learning, which the most indefatigable student can hope to at- tain, be in proportion to what he must wish to learn ! The sciences are simplified as they are improved ; old rubbish and demolished fabrics serve there to make a foundation for a new scaftolding, and more enduring superstructures ; and every discoverer in physics bequeaths to those who follow him, greater advantages than he possessed at the commencement of his la- bours. The reverse of this is felt in all the higher branches of literature. You have to ac- quire what the learned of the last age acquired, and in addition to it, what they themselves have added to the stock of learning : thus the task is greater in every succeeding generation, and in MULTIPLICATION OF BOOKS. ^57 a very few more it must become manifestly im- possible. MOXTESIXOS. Pope Ganganelli is said to have expressed a whimsical opinion, that all the books in the world mio;ht be reduced to six thousand volumes in folio, . .by epitomizing, expurg-ating, and de- stroying whatever the chosen and plenipotential committee of literature should in their wisdom think proper to condemn. It is some consolation to know that no Pope, or Nero, or Buonaparte, however great their power, can ever think such a scheme sufficiently within the bounds of pos- sibility, for them to dream of attempting it : . . otherwise the will would not be wanting. The evil which you anticipate is already perceptible in its eifects. Well would it be if men were as moderate in their desire of wealth, as those who enter the ranks of literature, and lay claim to distinction there, are in their desire of know- ledge ! A slender capital suffices to begin with, upon the strength of which they claim credit, and obtain it as readily as their fellow adven- turers in trade. If they succeed in setting up a present reputation, their ambition extends no further. The very vanity which finds its present food, produces in them a practical contempt for any fame beyond what they can live to enjoy; VOL. II. s 258 HISTORY. and tliis sense of its insionificance to themselves, is what better minds hardly attain, even in their saddest wisdom, till this world darkens upon them, and they feel that they are on the con- fines of eternity. But every age has had its sciolists, and will continue to have them; and in every age literature has also had, and will continue to have its sincere and devoted follow- ers, few in number, but enough to trim the everlasting lamp. It is when sciolists meddle with state affairs that they become the pests of a nation ; and this evil, for the reason which you have assigned, is more likely to increase than to be diminished. In your days all extant his- tory lay within compassable bounds : it is a fearful thing to consider now what length of time would be required, to make a studious man as conversant with the history of Europe since those days, as he ought to be, if he w^ould be properly qualified for holding a place in the councils of a kinG:dom. Men who take the course of public life will not, nor can they be expected to wait for this. Youth and ardour, and amljition and impatience, are here in accord with worldly prudence ; if they would reach the goal for which they start, they must begin the career betimes ; and such among them as may be conscious that their stock of knowledge is HISTORY. 259 less than it ought to be for such a profession, would not hesitate on that account to take an active part in public affairs, because they have a more comfortable consciousness, that they are quite as well informed as the contemporaries*, * The Comte de Puisaye speaking in his Memoirs of ' Vetonnante viuUiplicite de pretentions que les approches de * la revolution Jirent naitre;' observes, ' dest cette egalite de *■ foiblesse, cette monotonie, si jose rrCexprimer ainsi, d'im- ' puissance on de mediocrite, qui enhardissent Vigiiorance et la presomption.' Not many days after the Chamber of Nobles had begun their sittings, ' U7i homme de la cour,' he proceeds to say, ' aupres de qui le hasard m'avoii place, me Jit part de ' la satisfaction quit eprouvoit, de n'avoir rien entendu, * disoit-il, qui put V intimider ; et je commence a croire, * ajouta-t-il, queje serai deforce .... Cette legereteft sur mon ' esprit une impression que la suite des evenemens a ete peu * propre a effacer. Seroit-il done vrai quit na manque ' quun ho7nme d'un vrai talent, qu'un homme de genie, pour * intimider, pour forcer an silence, ces parleurs u tout propos, ' qui se sont tant defois dispute la tribune; et pour detourner * de dessus leurs tetes, de dessus de celles de leurs families, et de ' leurs concitoyens, une partie des maux qxie leur sotte vanite ' y a accumules !' — T. i. 222. Nothing better than the two first volumes of these Memoirs has been written concerning the causes and commencement of the French Revolution: the latter volumes relate to the miserable intrigues of the emigrant court, I believe Puisaye to have been a much-injured, as well as a most able man. I never remember to have met with any person whose eye in- dicated more sagacity, nor whose countenance would more S 2 260 HISTORY. Avitli wliom tlicy shall liave to act, or to con- tend. The quanhdiim at which Oxenstern ad- mired would be a large allowance now. For any such person to suspect himself of deficiency would, in this age of pretension, be a hopeful symptom ; but should he endeavour to supply it, he is like the mail-coach traveller, who is to be conveyed over macadamized roads at the rate of nine miles an hour, including stoppages, and must therefore take at his minuted meals whatever food is readiest. He must get infor- mation for immediate use, and with the smallest cost of time ; and therefore it is sought in ab- stracts and epitomes, which afford meagre food to the intellect, though they take away the un- easy sense of inanition. Tout abbrcgt siir un hon livre est un sot abbregc, says Montague ; and of all abridgements there are none by which a reader is so liable, and so likely, to be deceived as by epitomized histories. SIR THOMAS MORE. Call to mind, I pray you, my foliophagous friend, what was the extent of Michael Mon- tague's library ; and that if you had past a winter in his chateau, you must^ with that ap- readily liavc (jblained confidence, from any one who was accus- tomed lo trust the credentials of nature. HISTORY. 261 petite of yours, have put yourself upon short allowance there. Historical knowledge is not the first thing- needful for a statesman, nor the second. And yet do not hastily conclude, that I am about to disparage its importance. A sailor might as well put to sea without chart or compass, as a minister venture to steer the ship of the state without it. For as ' the strong and strange varieties *' in human nature are repeated in every age, so ' the thing which hath been, ' it is that which shall be. Is there anything ' whereof it may be said. See, this is newf • • • it ' hath been already of old time which was be- ' fore us.f MONTESINOS. For things forepast are precedents to us, AVhereby we may things present now, discuss, as the old poet§ said who brought together a tragical collection of precedents in the Mirror of Magistrates. This is what Lord Brooke calls * Lord Brooke. t Ecclesiastes. i. 9, 10. J ' . . . vedi che mutati soiio i visi degli uomini, ed i colori <■ estrinseci ; le cose medesime tutte ritornano, ne vediamo acci- ' dente alcuno, che a altri iemjn non sia stato veduto.' — Guic ciardini in a Letter to MachiaveUi. Opere di Machiavelli, 1813. Vol. viii. 160. § Thomas Newton, 262 HISTORY. the second light of government : Whicli stories yield, and no time can disseason : ' the common standard of man's reason,' he holds to be the first lioht which the founders of a new state, or the governors of an old one, ought to follow. SIR THOMAS MORE. Rightly : for though the most sagacious author that ever deduced maxims of policy from the experience of former ages, has said* that the misgovernment of states, and the evils conse- quent thereon, have arisen more from the neg- lect of that experience, . . that is, from historical ignorance, . . than from any other cause, the sum and substance of historical knowledge for prac- tical purposes consists in certain general prin- ciples : and he who understands those principles, * Machiavelli, Discorsi sopra Livio. Vol. iii. p. 7. ' Ei si conosce facibnenie per chi consider a le cose presenti e ' le antichc, come in tutle le cilia e in tutli i popoli sono quelli ' mede.si?ni desiderj, e quelli mcdesimi umori, e come vi furono * sempre. In modo ch' egli e facil cosa a chi esajnina con ' diligenza le cose passate, prevedere in og7ii rcpiibblica le ^future, c farvi quelli remedj, che dagli anlichi sono slali ' 7isali, o non ne trovando degli usali, pensarne de nuovi, per ' lasimililudine degli accidenii. Maperche quesie conside.ra- * zioni sono neglellc, o non intesc da chi Icgge, o se le sono ' intrse, non sono conosciuie da chi governa, ne seguita che ' sempre so7io i medesimi scandcU in ogni iempo.^ — lb. ib. p. 120. MACHIAVELLI. 263 and has a due sense of their importance, has always, in the darkest circumstances, a star in sight by which he may direct his course surely. MONTESINOS. The British ministers who began and con- ducted the first war against revolutionary France, were once reminded in a memorable speech*, that if they had known, or knowing had borne in mind, three maxims of Machiavelli, they would not have committed the errors which cost this country so dearly. They would not have relied upon bringing the war to a successful end by aid of a party among the French : they would not have confided in the reports of emigrants ; and they would not have supposed that because the French finances were in confusion, France * By Mr. Nicholls, Pari. History, Vol. xxxvi. 599. He is there represented as referring to ' a late writer,' but it was to Machiavelli that he referred, who has one chapter in his Dis- courses on Livy (lib. ii. c. 25) showing, ' Che lo assaltare ' una citta disunita, per occiiparla mediante sua disunione, ' e partito contrario ;' and another (lib. ii. c. 31) to show, * Quanto sia pericoloso credere agli shanditi:* and who says concerning the means of war, (lib. ii. c, 10) ' Son hen ' necessari i danari in secondo luogo, ma e una necessitd die * i soldati buoni per se medesimi la vincono ; perche e im- ' possihile che a' buoni soldati manchino i danari, come che i ' danari per lore medesimi trovino i buoni soldati.' 264 MACHIAVELLI. was therefore incapable of carrying on war with vigour and ability ; men and not money being the sinews of war, as Machiavelli had taught, and the revolutionary rulers and Buonaparte after them had learnt. Each of these errors they committed, though all were marked upon the chart ! sill THOMAS MORE. Such maxims are like beacons on a dangerous shore, not the less necessary, because the seaman may sometimes be deceived by false lights, and sometimes mistaken in his distances; but the possibility of l)eing so misled will be borne in mind by the cautious. Machiavelli is always sagacious, but the tree of knowledge of which he had gathered, grew not in Paradise ; it had a bitter root, and the fruit savours thereof, even to deadliness. He believed men to be so malignant* by nature that they always act malevolently from choice, and never well except by compulsion; a devilish doctrine, to be accounted for rather than excused by the circumstances of his age and * ' ... 6' neceaaario a chi dhpone mm repiihhlica, ed ordina ' leg^i in qxidla, presvppore txdti gli uomiiii essere cailivi, e * che gli abbiano sr.mprc ad usare la malignita dell' animo ' loro, qnalunquc. volla ne abbiano libera occasionr. . . Gli ' uomini no?i opcraiio mai nulla bene se non j)er necessilci.'-^ Discorsi, 1. 1. c. 3. vol. iii. p. 20. STATESMEN. 265 country. For he lived in a land wliere intellect was higldy cultivated, and morals thorouglily corrupted, the papal Church* having by its doctrines, its practices, and its example, made one part of the Italians heathenish and supersti- tious, the other impious. . . and both wicked. The rule of policy as well as of private morals is to be found in the Gospel ; and a religious sense of duty towards God and man is the first thing needful in a statesman : herein he has an unerring guide when knowledge fails him f, and experience affords no light. This, with a clear head and a single heart, will carry him through all difficulties ; and the just confidence which, having these, he will then have in himself, will * ' , , . qvelli popoli die sono piu propinqui alia Chiesa ' Romana, capo della Religio7ie nostra, hanno meno Religione. ' . . Per gli esempi rei di quella carte, qiiesta provincia (Italia) '■ha perduto ogni devozione ed ogni Religione ; il che si tira "■ dietro i/ijiniti inconvenienti e injiniti disordini. . . Abbiamo ' adinique con la Chiesa e coi Preti, noi Italiani questo prima ' obbligo, d'esse)-e diventaii senza Religione e caitivi.' — lb. 1. 1. c. 12. p. 54. t ' . . . The rise and fall of kingdoms commonly outreach any one man's age or observation ; and such as follow, mark the occurrences of their own times, more than their connection with former : whence it is that secular jjoliticians are always learning, and never attain unto tlie knowledge of what they seek.' — Jackson, ii. 204. 266 STATESMEN. obtain for him the confidence of the nation. In every nation indeed which is conscious of its strenoth, the minister who takes the highest tone, will invariably be the most popular ; let him uphold, even haughtily, the character * of his country, and the heart and voice of the people will be with him. But haughtiness implies always something that is hollow : the tone of a wise minister will be firm, but calm. He will neither truckle to his enemies in the vain hope of conciliating them by a specious candour, which they at the same time flatter and despise; nor will he stand aloof from his friends, lest he should be accused of regarding them with par- tiality ; and thus while he secures the attachment of the one he will command the respect of the other. He will not, like the Lacedemonians ')', think anv measures honourable which accord with his inclinations, and just if they promote his views; but in all cases he will do that which is lawful and right, holding this for a certain truth, tliat in politics, the straight path is the sure one ! Such a minister will hope for the best, and expect the best; by acting openly, * Lord Chatham, Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Canning, arc proofs of I lii + '. . . ra /Mv riiia xuKa, ta/Ai^cvri, ra, "hX^vfi^i^oyra, VtKUiK.' — lllUCyUldeS, E. §. 105. STATESMEN. 267 Steadily, and bravely, lie will act always for the best : and so acting, be the issue what it may, he will never dishonour himself or his country, nor fall under the ' sharp judgement*,' of which they that are in ' high places' are in danger. MONTESINOS. I am pleased to hear you include hopefulness among the needful qualifications. SIR THOMAS MORE. It was a Jewish maxim that the spirit of pro- phecy rests only upon eminent, happy, and cheer- ful men. MOXTESIXOS. A wise woman, by which I do not mean, in vulgar parlance, one who pretends to prophecy, has a maxim to the same effect : toma este aviso, she says, guardate de aquel que no tiene esperanza de bien ! t take care of him who hath no hope of good ! SIR THOMAS MORE. * Of whole heart cometh hope,' says old Piers Plouo-hman. And these maxims are warranted by philosophy, divine and human : • . by human wisdom, because he who hopes little will attempt little; fear is ' a betrayal of the succours which * Wisdom, vi. 3. t Dona Oliva Sabuco. if. 46 268 STATESMEN. reason offeretli/ and in difficult times, pericida ma^'iia non nisi ptrkulis depelli solent*; . . by reli- gion, because tlie ways of Providence are not so changed under the dispensation of Grace, from what they were under the old law, but that he who means well, and acts well, and is not want- ing to himself, may rightfully look for a blessing upon the course which he pursues. The upright individual may rest his head in peace upon this hope; the upright minister who conducts the affairs of a nation may trust in itf; for as na- tional sins bring after them in sure consequence:]: their merited punishment, so national virtue, which is national wisdom, obtains in like man- ner its temporal and visible reward. Blessings and curses are before you, and which are to be your portion depends upon the direction of public opinion. The march of in- * Cardan, de propria vila. 271. t Louis XIV. states this anion j^ the other considerations wliicli encouraged liiiii under ;ill diiliculties ; ' qu^en toutes les entrcpriscsjustes ct legitimes, le temps, I'aclion meme, leseconrs du del, ouvrcnt cC ordinaire mille voies et deconvrent mille fa- cilitesquon n'atteiidoit pas.' — Mem. Ilistoriques, t. i. 13. + ' For God, in liis usual course of justice, so suits his punishments to llie most accustomed habits and in-edominant sins, lliat unlo men, religiously observant of times and seasons, the growth and process of the one will give a certain crisis Oi the other.' — Jackson, i. -179. LITERATURE. 269 tellect is proceeding at quick time ; and if its progress be not accompanied by a corresponding improvement in morals and religion, the faster it proceeds, \vitli the more violence will you be hurried down the road to ruin. One of the first effects of printing was to make proud men look upon learning as disgraced, by beino' thus brouo-ht within reach of the common people. Till that time learning, such as it was, had been confined to courts and convents, the low birth of the clergy being overlooked, because they were privileged by their order. But when laymen in humble life were enabled to procure books, the pride of aristocracy took an absurd course, insomuch that at one time it was deemed derogatory for a nobleman if he could read or write. Even scholars themselves complained that the reputation of learning, and the respect due to it, and its rewards, were lowered when it was thrown open to all men ; and it was seri- ously proposed to prohibit the printing of any book that could be afforded for sale below the price of three soldi'^. This base and invidious feeling was perhaps never so directly avowed in other countries as in Italy, the land where lite- rature was first restored ; and yet in this more * Lodovico Domiuichi, Diuloghi, p. 389. 270 LITERATURE. liberal island, ignorance was for some genera- tions considered to be a mark of distinction by which a man of gentle birth f chose, not unfre- quently, to make it apparent that he was no more obliged to live by the toil of his brain, than by the sweat of his brow. The same changes in society which rendered it no longer possible for this class of men to pass their lives in idleness, have completely put an end to this barbarous pride. It is as obsolete as the fashion of long- finger nails, which in some parts of the east are still the distinctive mark of those who labour not with their hands. All classes are now brought within the reach of your current literature, . . that literature which, like a moral atmosphere, is, as it were, the medium of intellectual life, and on the quality of which, according as it may be salubrious or noxious, the health of the public mind depends. There is, if not a general desire for knowledge, a general appearance of such a desire. Authors of all kinds have increased and are increasing among you. Romancers . . . MONTESINOS. — some of whom attempt things which had t ' Can you write and read tlien ? ' Bus: As most of your gentlemen do — my bond has been ' taken with my mark at it.' Dckkcr, Wonder of a Kingdojn, LITERATURE. 271 hitherto been unattempted yet in prose or rhyme, because among all the extravagant in- tellects, with which the world has teemed, none were ever before so utterly extravagant as to chuse for themselves themes of such revoltino- monstrosity. SIR THOMAS MORE. Poets . . . MONTESINOS. Tartti Roma non ha preti, o dottori Bologna. SIR THOMAS MORE. Critics. . . MONTESINOS. More numerous yet ; for this is a corps in which many who are destined for better things engage, till they are ashamed of the service ; and a much greater number who endeavour to distinguish themselves in higher walks of litera- ture, and fail, take shelter in it ; as they cannot attain reputation themselves, they endeavour to prevent others from being more successful, and find in the gratification of envy some recompense for disappointed vanity. SIR THOMAS MORE. Philosophers. . . MONTESINOS. True and false ; the philosophers and the phi- 272 LITKRATURIU. losopliists; some of tlie former so full, that it would require, as the Rabbics say of a certain pedigree in the Book of Chronicles, four hun- dred camel-loads of commentaries to expound the difficulties in their text ; others so empty, that nothing can approximate so nearly to the notion of an infinitesimal quantity as their meaning. sill THOMAS MOKE. With this multiplication of books, which in its proportionate increase marvellously exceeds that of your growing population, are you a wiser, a more intellectual, or more imaginative people than when, as in my days, the man of learning, while he sat at his desk, had his whole library within arm's-length? MONTESINOS. If we are not wiser, it must be because the means of knowledge, which are now both abun- dant and accessible, are either neglected or mis- used. The sciences are not here to be considered : in these our progress has been so great, that seeing the moral and religious improvement of the nation has in no degree kept pace Avith it, you have reasonably questioned whether we have not advanced, in certain branches, farther and faster tlian is conducive to, or perhaps consistent with, the general good. But there can be no TRAVELS. 273 question tliat great advancement lias been made in many departments of literature conducive to innocent recreation, (which would be alone no trifling- good, even were it not, as it is, itself conducive to health both of body and of mind,) to sound knowledge, and to moral and political improvement. There are now few portions of the habitable earth which have not been ex- plored, and with a zeal and perseverance which had slept from the first age of maritime discovery till it was revived under George III. In con- sequence of this revival, and the awakened spirit of curiosit}^ and enterprise, every year adds to our ample store of books relating to the manners of other nations, and the condition of men in states and stages of society different to our own. And of such books we cannot have too many ; the idlest reader may find amusement in them of a more satisfactory kind than he can gather from the novel of the day or the criticism of the day ; and there are few among them so entirely wortli- less, that the most studious man may not derive from them some information, for which he ought to be thankful. Some memorable instances we have had in this o-eneration of the absurdities and errors, sometimes affecting seriously the public service and the national character, which have arisen from the want of such knowledge as VOL. IT. T 274 TRAVELS, by means of such books is now generally diffused. Skates and warming pans will not again be sent out as ventures to Brazil. The Board of Admi- ralty will never again attempt to ruin an enemy's port by sinking a stone-ship, to the great amuse- ment of that enemy, in a tide harbour. Nor will a cabinet minister think it sufficient excuse for himself and colleagues, to confess that they were no better informed than other people, and had everything to learn concerning the interior of a country into which they had sent an army. SIR THOMAS MORE. This is but a prospective benefit, and of a humble kind, if it extend no further than to save you from any future exposure of an ignorance which might deserve to be called disgraceful. We profited more by our knowledge of other countries in the age when Hops and turkeys, carp and beer, Came into England all in one year. MONTESINOS. And yet in that age you profited slowly by the commodities which the eastern and western parts of the world afforded. Gold, pearls, and spices, were your first imports. For the honour of science and of humanity, medicinal plants were soon sought for. But two centuries elapsed before tea and potatoes, . . the most valuable products of TRAVELS. 275 the east and west, . . which have contributed far more to the general good than all their spices, and gems, and precious metals, . . came into com- mon use ; nor have they yet been generally adopted on the continent, while tobacco found its way to Europe an hundred years earlier ; and its filthy abuse, though here happily less than in former times, prevails everywhere. SIR THOMAS MORE. Proh pudor ! There is a snuff-box on the man- telpiece, . . and thou revilest tobacco ! MONTESINOS. Distinguish, I pray you, gentle Ghost ! I condemn the abuse of tobacco as filthy, implying in those words that it has its allowable and proper use. To smoke, is, in certain circumstances, a wholesome practice : it may be regarded with a moral complacency as the poor man's luxury, and with liking by any one who follows a lighted pipe in the open air. But whatever may be pleaded for its soothing and intellectualizing effects, the odour within doors of a defunct pipe is such an abomination, that I join in anathematizing it with James, the best natured of kings, and Josuah Sylvester, the most voluble of poets. SIR THOMAS MORE. Thou has written verses in praise of snuff ! T 2 27G TRAVELLERS. MONTESINOS. And if tliy nose, Sir Spirit, were anything more than the ghost of an olfactor, I would offer it a propitiatory pinch, that you might the more feelingly understand the merit of the said verses, and admire them accordingly. But I am no more to be deemed a snuff-taker, because I carry a snuff-box when travelling, and keep one at hand for occasional use, than I am to be reckoned a casuist or a pupil of the Jesuits because the Moral Philosophy of Escobar and the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola are on my shelves . . . Thank Heaven I bear about with me habits which I cannot hiy aside as easily as my clothes. The age is past in which travellers could add much to the improvement, the comfort, or the embellishment of this country, by imparting any- thing which they have newly observed in foreign parts. We have happily more to communicate now than to receive. Yet when I tell you that since the commencement of the present century, there have been every year, upon an average, more than an hundred and fifty plants which were previously unknown here, introduced into the nurseries and market gardens about London, you will acknowledge that, in this branch, at least, a constant desire is shown of enriching ourselves with the produce of other lands. BOTANICAL TRAVELLERS. 277 SIR THOMAS MORE. Philosophers of old travelled to observe the manners of men, and study their institutions. I know not whether they found more pleasure in the study, or derived more advantages from it, than the adventurers reap, who, in these latter times, have crossed the seas, and exposed them- selves to dangers of every kind, for the purpose of extending the catalogue of plants. MONTESINOS. Of all travels, those of the mere botanist are the least instructive . . SIR THOMAS MORE. . . To any but botanists, . . but for them alone they are written. Do not depreciate any pursuit which leads men to contemplate the works of their Creator ! The Linnean traveller who, when you look over the pages of his journal, seems to you a mere botanist, has in his pursuit, as you have in yours, an object that occupies his time, and fills his mind, and satisfies his heart. It is as innocent as yours, and as disinterested,, .per- haps more so, because it is not so ambitious. Nor is the pleasure which he partakes in investi- gating the structure of a plant less pure, or less worthy, than what you derive from perusing the noblest productions of human genius. . . You look 278 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. at me as if you thought this reprehension were undeserved ! MONTESINOS. The eye, then, Sir Thomas, is proditorious, and I will not gainsay its honest testimony : yet would I rather endeavour to profit by the repre- hension, than seek to show that it was uncalled for. If I know myself, I am never prone to undervalue either the advantages or acquirements which I do not possess. That knowledge is said to be of all others the most difficult ; whether it be the most useful, the Greeks themselves differ, for if one of their wise men left the words yvfd^i (Tsaurov as his maxim to posterity, a poet, who perhaps may have been not less deserving of the title, has controverted it, and told us that for the uses of the world, it is more advantageous for us to understand the character of others, than to know ourselves.^' SIR THOMAS MORE. Here lies the truth; he who best understands himself is least likely to be deceived in others : you judge of others by yourselves, and therefore measure them by an erroneous standard when- ever your autometry is false. This is one reason KuTcc "ToXk' liv itriv uo KaXu; iietif^ivov To yvuft fficcuTov ^^ria'i//,cort^ov ya^ »v To ywh ms aXXvf- Menander. TRAVELLERS. 279 why the empty critic is usually contumelious and flippant, the competent one as generally equitable and humane. MONTESINOS. This justice I would render to the Linnean school, that it produced our first devoted tra- vellers; the race to which they succeeded em- ployed themselves chiefly in visiting museums and cataloguing pictures, and now and then copying inscriptions ; even in their books notices are found for which they who follow them may be thankful : and facts are sometimes, as if by accident, preserved, for useful application. They went abroad to accomplish or to amuse them- selves, . . to improve their time, or to get rid of it: the botanists travelled for the sake of their fa- vourite science, and many of them, in the prime of life, fell victims to their ardour, in the unwhole- some climates to which they were led. Latterly, we have seen this ardour united with the highest genius, the most comprehensive knowledge, and rarest qualities of perseverance, prudence, and enduring patience. This generation will not leave behind it two names more entitled to the admiration of after ages than Burckhardt and Humboldt. The former purchased this pre-emi- nence at the cost of his life : the latter lives, and long may he live to enjoy it. 280 TRAVELLERS. SIR THOMAS MORE. This very important branch of literature can scarcely be said to have existed in my time ; the press was then too much occupied in preserv- ing such precious remains of antiquity as could be rescued from destruction, and in matters which inflamed the minds of men, as indeed they con- cerned their dearest and most momentous interests. Moreover, reviving literature took the natural course of imitation, and the ancients had left nothing in this kind to be imitated. Nothing therefore appeared in it, except the first inesti- mable relations of the discoveries in the cast and v/est, and these belong rather to the department of history. As travels, we had only the chance notices which occurred in the Latin correspond- ence of learned men, when their letters found their way to the public. MONTESIXOS. Precious remains these are, but all too few. . . The first travellers whose journals or memoirs have been preserved were ambassadors; then came tlie adventurers of whom you speak ; and it is remarkal)le that two centuries afterward, wc should find men of the same stamp among the Buccaneers, who recorded in like manner Avilh laithlul diligence whatever they had op- portunity of observing in their wild and nefarious course of life. BUCCANEERS. 281 SIR THOMAS MORE. You may deduce from thence two conclu- sions, apparently contrarient, yet both warranted by the fact which you have noticed. It may be presumed that men who, while engaged in such an occupation, could thus meritoriously employ their leisure, were rather compelled by disastrous circumstances to such a course, than engaged in it by inclination : that it was their misfortune rather than their fault if they -were not the benefactors and ornaments of society, instead of being its outlaws; and that under a wise and parental government such persons never would be lost. This is a charitable con- sideration, nor will I attempt to impugn it ; the other may seem less so, but is of more prac- tical importance. For these examples are proof, if proof were needed, that intellectual attain- ments and habits are no security for good con- duct, unless they are supported by religious principles ; without religion the highest endow- ments of intellect can only render the possessor more dangerous if he be ill disposed, if well dis- posed only more unhappy. The conquerors, as they called themselves, were followed by missionaries. MONTESINOS. Our knowledge of the remoter parts of the 282 ROMISH MISSIONARIES. world, during the first part of the seventeenth century, must chiefly be obtained from their recitals. And there is no difiiculty in separating what may be believed from their fables, because their falsehoods being systematically devised and circulated in pursuance of what they regarded as part of their professional duty, they told truth when they had no motive for deceiving the reader. Let any person compare the relations of our Protestant missionaries, with those of the Jesuits, Dominicans, Franciscans, or any other Romish order, and the difference which he can- not fail to perceive between the plain truth of the one, and the audacious and elaborate mendacity of the other, may lead him to a just inference concerning the two churches. SIR THOMAS MORE. Their fables were designed, by exciting ad- miration, to call forth money for the support of missions, which, notwithstanding such false pre- tences, were piously undertaken and heroically pursued. They scrupled therefore as little at interlardin": their chronicles and annual letters with such miracles, as poets at the use of ma- chinery in their verses. Think not that I am excusing them ; but thus it was that they justi- fied their system of imposition to themselves, and ROMISH MISSIONARIES. 283 this part of it must not be condemned as if it proceeded from an evil intention. MONTESINOS. Yet, Sir Thomas, the best of those mission- aries are not more to be admired for their ex- emplary virtue, and pitied for the superstition w^hich debased their faith, than others of their respective orders are to be abominated for the deliberate wickedness with which, in pursuance of the same system, they imposed the most blas- phemous and atrocious legends upon the credu- lous, and persecuted with fire and sword those who opposed their deceitful villainy. One rea- son wherefore so few travels were written in the age of which we are speaking, is, that no English- man, unless he were a Papist, could venture into Italy, or any other country where the Romish religion was established in full power, without danger of being seized by the Inquisition ! Other dangers by sea and by land, from cor- sairs and banditti, including too the chances of war and of pestilence, were so great in that age, that it was not unusual for men when they set out upon their travels to put out a sum upon their own lives, which, if the}^ died upon the journey, was to be the underwriter's gain, but to be repaid if they returned, with such increase as might cover their intervening expenses. The 284 EFFECTS OF DANGER. chances against them seem to have been con- sidered as nearly three to one. But danger, \vithin a certain degree, is more likely to pro- voke adventurers than to deter them. SIR THOMAS MORE. There thou hast uttered a comprehensive truth. No legislator has yet so graduated his scale of punishment as to ascertain that degree uliich shall neither encourage hope, nor excite the audacity of desperate guilt. It is certain that there are states of mind in which the con- sciousness that he is about to play for life or death stimulates a gamester to the throw. This will apply to most of those crimes which are committed for cupidity, and not attended with violence. MONTESINOS. Well then may these hazards have acted as incentives where there was the desire of honour, the spirit of generous enterprise, or ev(!n the love of notoriety. By the first of these motives Pietro della Valle (the most romantic in his adventures of all true travellers) was led abroad; tlie latter spring set in motion my comical countryman Tom Coriat, who by the engraver's lielp has represented himself at one time in full dress, making a leg to a courtesan at Venice, JEWELLERS. 285 and at another dropping- from his rags the all- too-lively proofs of prolific poverty. Perhaps literature has never been so directly benefited by the spirit of trade as it was in the seventeenth century, when European jewellers found their most liberal customers in the courts of the East. Some of the best travels which we possess, as well as the best materials for Persian and Indian history, have been left us by persons engaged in that trade. From that time travelling became less dangerous, and more frequent in every generation ; except during the late years, when Englishmen were excluded fi'om the con- tinent by that military tyrant, whom (with God's blessing on a rightful cause) we have beaten from his imperial throne. And now it is more customary for females in the middle rank of life to visit Italy, than it was for them in your days to move twenty miles from home. SIR THOMAS MORE. Is this a salutary or an injurious fashion ? MONTESINOS. According to the subject, and to the old school maxim, quicquid recipitur, recipitur in modiim rt- cipientis. The wise come back wiser : the well- informed with richer stores of knowledge : the empty and the vain return as they went ; and 28G TRAVELLERS, there are some who bring home foreign vanities and vices in addition to their own. SIR THOMAS MORE. And what has been imported by such trarellers for the good of their country ? MONTESINOS. Coffee in the seventeenth century; inocula- tion in tliat which followed : since which we have had now and then a new dance, and a new game at cards ; curry and malagatany soup from the East Indies, turtle from the West, and that earthly nectar to which the East contri- butes it arrack, and the West its limes and its rum. In the language of men it is called Punch ; I know not what may be its name in the Olympian speech. But tell not the Englishmen of George the Second's age, lest they should be troubled for the degeneracy of their grandchil- dren, that the punch bowl is now become a relic of antiquity, and their beloved beverage almost as obsolete as metheglin, hippocras, clary or morat ! SIR THOMAS MORE. It is well for thee that thou art not a young beagle instead of a grey-headed bookman, or that rambling vein of thine would often bring thee under the lash of the whipper-in ! Ofl' thou art and iiway in pursuit of the smallest game that rises before thee. TRAVELLERS. 287 MONTESINOS, Good Ghost, there was once a wise Lord Chancellor, who in a dialogue upon weighty matters thought it not unbecoming to amuse* himself with discursive merriment concerning St. Appollonia and St. Uncumber. SIR THOMAS MORE. Good Flesh and Blood, that was a nipping- reply ! And happy man is his dole who retains in grave years, and even to gi'ey hairs, enough of green youth's redundant spirits for such ex- cursiveness ! He who never relaxes into sportive- ness is a wearisome companion ; but beware of him who jests at everything ! Such men disparage by some ludicrous association all objects which are' presented to their thoughts, and thereby render themselves incapable of any emotion which can either elevate or soften them ; they bring upon their moral beino- an influence more witherino- than the blast of the desert. A countenance if it be wrinkled either with smiles or with frowns is to be shunned : the furrows which the latter leave show that the soil is sour ; those of the former are symptomatic of a hollow heart. * The interlocutor in tliis ' Dialoge,' says to Sir Thomas, ' Ye use, my mayster sayth, to look so sadly whan ye mene ' mei'ely, yt many tymes men doubte whyther ye speke in sporte ' whann ye mene good ernest.' — lb. 18. 288 WALKING STEWART, None of your travellers have reached Utopia, and brou^'ht from thence a fuller account of its institutions I MONTESINOS. There was one, methinks, who must have had. it in view when he walked over the world to discover the source of moral motion. He was atllicted witli a tympany of mind produced by metaphysics, which was at that time a common complaint, though attended in him with unusual symptoms : but his heart was healthy and strong, and mio-ht in former aoes have enabled him to acquire a distinguished place among the Saints of the Thebais or the Philosophers of Greece. But although we have now no travellers em- ployed in seeking undiscoverable countries, and although Eldorado, the city of the Cesares, and the Sabbatical River, are expunged even from the maps of credulity and imagination, Welsh- men have gcjne in search of Madoc's descendants, and scarcely a year passes without adding to the melancholy list of lliose who have ])erished in exploring the interior of Africa. SIR THOMAS MORE. AA lienever there shall exist a civilized and Christian negro state. Providence will open that country to civilization and Cln-istianity : mean- time to risk strength, and enterprise and sci- AFRICA. 289 eiice against climate, is contending against the course of nature. Have these travellers yet ob- tained for you the secret of the Psylli ? MOXTESIXOS. We have learnt from savages the mode of pre- paring their deadliest poisons ; the more useful knowledge by which they render the human body proof against the most venomous serpents has not been sought with equal diligence ; there are however scattered notices * which may per- haps afford some clue to the discovery. The writino's of travellers are not more rich in ma- * To the notices wliich I have elsewhere collected upon this subject, Omniana, vol. ii. § 239. p. 259,) I take this oppor- tunity of adding 'the following passage from a letter of An- chieta's, first published in 1812. Anchieta is one of those Jesuits of whom the most enormous falsehoods have been re- lated, but who was himself a good man, and to be believed in whatever he asserts upon liis own knowledge. He states and vouches for the fact, that a person who has once been bitten by a venomous snake, and escaped death, suffers much less pain if he should be bitten a second time, and incurs no danger. ' Porro id apud Indos sic habet, ut si semel icti a ' coluhro mortem evadant, percussi deinceps non solum in dis- ' crimen vitts non veniant sed multo etiain minus sentiant ' doloris, quod tion semel experti sumus.' Epistola quamplurimarum rerum naturalium quae S. Vin- centii (nunc S. Pauli) provinciam incolunt, sistens descrip- tionem. § 13, Memorias para a Historia das Nafoeiis Vltraniarinas. T. 1. Num. 3. VOL. II. U 290 TRAVELS. terials for the poet and the historian than they are in useful notices, deposited there like seeds which lie deep in the earth till some chance brings them within reach of air, and then they germinate. These are fields in which some- thing may always be found by the gleaner ; and therefore those general collections in which the works are curtailed would be to be reprobated, even if epitomizers did not seem to possess a certain instinct of generic doltishness which leads them curiously to omit whatever ought especially to be preserved. SIR THOMAS MORE. If ever there come a time, Montesinos, when beneficence shall be as intelligent, and wisdom as active, as the spirit of trade, you will then draw from foreign countries other things beside those which now pay duties at the customhouse, or are cultivated in nurseries for the conserva- tories of the wealthy. Not that I regard with dissatisfaction these latter importations of luxury, however far tliey may be brought, or at whatever cost ; for of all mere pleasures, those of a garden arc the most salutary, and approach nearest to a moral enjoyment. But you will then (should that time come) seek and find in the laws, usages, and experience of other nations, palliatives for some of those evils and diseases which have TRAVELLERS. 291 hitherto been inseparable from society and human nature, and remedies, perhaps, for others. MONTESINOS. Happy the travellers who shall be found in- strumental to such good ! One advantage be- longs to authors of this description ; because they contribute to the instruction of the learned, their reputation suffers no diminution by the course of time : age rather enhances their value. In this respect they resemble historians, to whom, indeed, their labours are in a great degree sub- sidiary. SIR THOMAS MORE. They have an advantage over them, my friend, in this, that rarely can they leave evil works behind them, which, either from a mischievous persuasion, or a malignant purpose, may heap condemnation upon their own souls as long as such works* survive them. Even if they should * ' The desire of fame is so universal, and seems to be so ' instinctive in our nature, and operates so powerfully to do ' good when it seeks its object through laudable pursuits, that ' it is not a chimerical possibility that it may be something ' more to us than a voice which we cannot hear, or than a ' breath which evaporates as it is uttered. The reputation * which we attain during this life may follow our being where- ■' ever that may be situated hereafter, with all its momentous ' consequences ; creating benefit and pleasure to us there, ' whenever it has arisen from what piety and virtue sanction U 2 292 AUTHORS. manifest pernicious opinions and a wicked will, the venom is, in a great degree, sheathed by the vehicle in which it is administered. And this is something ; for let me tell thee, thou consumer of goosequills, that of all the Devil's laboratories, there is none in which more poison is concocted for mankind than in the inkstand ! MONTESIXOS. ' My withers are unwrung ! ' SIR THOMAS MORE. Be thankful, therefore, in life, as thou wilt in death. A principle of compensation may be observed in literary pursuits as in other things. Repu- tations that never flame continue to glimmer for centuries after those which blaze highest have o-one out. And what is of more moment, the humblest occupations are morally the safest. Rhadamanthus never puts on his black cap to ' and perpetuate licre ; but causing; to us personal and sentient ' evil and disgrace in our future abode, if it has sprung from ' actions, writings, or character, which have been repugnant ' to moral reason, to human welfare, or to religious truth. It ' is the soundest inference to believe that all fame will be an ' unceasing companion to its possessor, for good or for evil, ' as long as the spirit shall exist anywhere in conscious sen- ♦ sitivity.' — Turner's Modern History of England, part ii. p. 735. In this feeling of my excellent friend I heartily concur. AUTHORS. 293 pronounce sentence upon a dictionary-maker, or the compiler of a county-history. MOXTESINOS. I am to understand, then, that in the arch- angel's balance a little book may sink the scale toward the pit ; while all the tomes of Thomas Hearne and good old John Nicholls will be" weighed among their good works ! SIR THOMAS MORE. Sport as thou wilt in allusions to allegory and fable ; but bear always in thy most serious mind this truth, that men hold under an awful respon- sibility the talents with which they are entrusted. Kings have not so serious an account to render as they who exercise an intellectual influence over the minds of men ! MOXTESINOS. If evil works, so long as they continue to pro- duce evil, heap up condemnation upon the au- thors, it is well for some of the wickedest writers that their works do not survive them. SIR THOMAS MORE. Sucli men, my friend, even by the most perish- able of their wicked works, lay up sufficient condemnation for themselves. The maxim that malitia supplet a'tatem, is rightfully admitted in human laws : should there not, then, by parity of justice, be cases where, when the secrets of 294 CURRENT LITERATURE. the heart are seen, the intention shall be regarded rather than the act ? The greatest portion of your literature, at any given time, is ephemeral ; indeed, it has ever been so since the discovery of printing ; and this portion it is which is most influential, consequently that by which most good or mis- chief is done. MONTESINOS. Ephemeral it truly may be called ; it is now looked for by the public as regularly as their food; and, like food, it affects the recipient surely and permanently, even when its effect is slow, according as it is wholesome or noxious. But how great is the diff"erence between the cur- rent literature of this and of any former time ! SIR THOMAS MORE. From that complacent tone, it may be pre- sumed that you see in it proof both of moral and intellectual improvement. Montesinos, I must disturb that comfortable opinion, and call upon you to examine how much of this refinement which passes for improvement is superficial. True it is that controversy is carried on with more decency than it was by Martin Luther and a certain Lord Chancellor, to whom you just now alluded ; but if more courtesy is to be found in EPHEMERAL LITERATURE. 295 polemical writers, who are less sincere than either the one or the other, there is as much acerbity of feeling, and as much bitterness of heart. You have a class of miscreants which had no existence in those days, . . the panders of the press, who live by administering to the vilest passions of the people, and encouraging their most danger- ous errors, practising upon their ignorance, and inculcating whatever is most pernicious in prin- ciple and most dangerous to society. This is their golden age ; for though such men would in any age have taken to some villainy or other, never could they have found a course at once so gainful and so safe. Long impunity has taught them to despise the laws which they defy, and the institutions which they are labouring to sub- vert ; any further responsibility enters not into their creed, if that may be called a creed in which all the articles are negative. If we turn from politics to what should be humaner litera- ture, and look at the self-constituted censors of whatever has past the press, there also we shall find that they who are the most incompetent assume the most authority, and that the public favour such pretensions ; for, in quackery of every kind, whether medical, political, critical, or hypocritical, quo qids impiidcntior co doctior habetur. 296 EPHEMERAL LITERATURE. MONTESIXOS. The pleasure whicli men take in acting mali- ciously, is properly called by Barrow a rascally delifrht. But this is no new form of malice. ' Avant nous,' says the sagacious but iron- hearted Montluc, . . ' avant nous ces envies out ' regne, et regneront encore apres nous, si Dieu ne * nous vouloit tous rcfondre.' Its worst effect is that which Ben Jonson * remarked : ' the gentle * reader,' says he, ' rests happy to hear the ' worthiest works misrepresented, the clearest ' actions obscured, the innocentest life traduced ; ' and in such a license of lying, a field so fruitful ' of slanders, how can there be matter wanting ' to his laughter ? Hence comes the epidemical ' infection: for how can they escape the conta- * gion of tlie writings whom the virulency of the ' calumnies hath not staved off from readino; ?' There is another mischief, arising out of ephe- meral literature, whicli was noticed by the same great author. ' Wheresoever '|' manners and ' fashions are corrupted,' says he, ' language is. < It imitates the pul)lic riot. The excesses of * feasts and apparel are the notes of a sick state ; * Ltiul the wantonness of lanouao'c of a sick mind.' I'll is was the observation of a man well versed in fli(! history of tlie ancients and in their litera- * Gifl'unrs Edit. vol. i.\. p. 102. t l^- V- IBG. CORRUPTION OF STYLE. 297 ture. The evil prevailed in his time to a con- siderable degree ; but it was not permanent, because it proceeded rather from the affectation of a few individuals than from any general cause : the great poets were free from it ; and our prose writers then, and till the end of that century, were preserved, by their sound studies and logical habits of mind, from any of those faults into which men fall who write loosely because they think loosely. The pedantry of one class and the colloquial vulgarity of another had their day; the faults of each were strongly contrasted, and better writers kept the mean between them. More lasting effect was produced by translators, who, in later times, have corrupted our idiom as much as, in early ones, they enriched our vocabulary ; and to this injury the Scotch have greatly contributed : for composing in a language which is not their mother tongue, they neces- sarily acquire an artificial and formal style, which, not so much through the merit of a few as owing to the perseverance of others, who for half a century seated themselves on the bench of criticism, has almost superseded the vernacular English of Addison and Swift. Our journals, indeed, have been the great corrupters of our style, and continue to be so ; and not for this reason only. Men who write in newspapers, 298 CORRUPTION OF STYLK and map^azines, and reviews, write for present eifect ; in most cases tliis is as much their natural and proper aim, as it would be in public speak- ing- ; but when it is so they consider, like public speakers, not so much what is accurate or just, either in matter or manner, as what will be ac- ceptable to those whom they address. Writing also under the excitement of emulation and ri- valry, they seek, by all the artifices and efforts of an ambitious style, to dazzle their readers ; and they are wise in their generation, experience having shown that common minds are taken by glittering faults, both in prose and verse, as larks are with looking-glasses. In this school it is that most writers are now trained ; and, after such training, anything like an easy and natural movement is as little to be looked for in their compositions as in the step of a dancing-master. To the vices of style which are thus generated, there must be added the in- accuracies inevitably arising from haste, when a certain quantity of matter is to be supplied for a daily or weekly publication which allows of no delay, . . the slovenliness that confidence as well as fatigue and inattention will produce, . . and the barbarisms wliich are the effect of igno- rance, or that smattering of knowledge which serves only to render ignorance presumptuous. MIXED LANGUAGES. 299 These are the causes of corruption in our current style; and when these are considered, there would be ground for apprehending that the best writings of the last century might become as obsolete as yours in the like process of time, if we had not in our Liturgy and our Bible a standard from which it will not be possible wholly to depart. SIR THOMAS MORE. Will the Liturgy and the Bible keep the lan- guage at that standard in the colonies, where little or no use is made of the one, and not much, it may be feared, of the other ? MONTESINOS. A sort of hybrid speech, a Lingua Anglica more debased perhaps than the Lingua Franca of the Levant, or the Portugueze of Malabar, is likely enough to grow up among the South Sea Islands ; like the mixture of Spanish with some of the native languages in South America, or the mingle-mangle which the negroes have made with French and English, and probably with other European tongues in the colonies of their respective states. The spirit of mercantile adventure may produce in this part of the new world a process analogous to what took place throughout Europe on the breaking up of the Western Empire; and in the next millennium 300 EPHEMERAL LITERATURE. these derivatives may become so many cultivated tonirues, having; each its literature. These will be like varieties in a flower-garden, which the florist raises from seed ; but in the colonies, as in our orchards, the graft takes with it and will preserve the true characteristics of the stock. SIR THOMAS MORE. But the same causes of deterioration will be at work there also. MONTESINOS. Not nearly in the same degree, nor to an equal extent. Now and then a word with the American impress comes over to us which has not been struck in the mint of analogy. But the Americans are more likely to be infected by the corruption of our written language, than we are to have it debased by any importations of this kind from them. SIR THOMAS MORE. Tlierc is a more important coilsideration be- longing to this subject. The cause which you have noticed as the principal one of this cor- ruption must have a farther and more mis- chievous cflect : for it is not in tlic vices of an ambitious style tliat these ephemeral writers, who live upon the breath of popular Jipplause, will rest. Great and lasting reputations, both in ancient and modern times, have been raised POETS. 301 notwithstanding that defect, when the ambition from which it proceeded was of a worthy kind, and was sustained by great powers and adequate acquirements. But this ambition, which looks beyond the morrow, has no place in the writers of a day. Present effect is their end and aim ; and too many of them, especially the ablest, who have wanted only moral worth to make them capable of better things, are persons who can * desire * no other mercy from after ages than * silence and oblivion.' Even with the better part of the public that author will always obtain the most favourable reception, who keeps most upon a level with them in intellectuals, and puts them to the least trouble of thinking. He who addresses himself with the whole endea- vours of a powerful mind to the understanding faculty, may find fit readers ; but they vvill be few. He who labours for posterity in the fields of research, must look to posterity for his re- ward. Nay, even they whose business is with the feelings and the fancy, catch most fish when they angle in shallow waters. Is it not so, Piscator? MONTESINOS. In such honest anglers. Sir Thomas, I should look for as many virtues, as good old happy * Bishop Kennet, 302 POETS. Izuak Walton found in his brethren of the rod and line. Nor will you, I think, disparage them; for you Avere of the Rhymers' Company, and at a time when things appear to us in their true colours and proportion, (if ever while we are yet in the body,) you remembered your verses* with more satisfaction than your controversial writings, even though you had no misgivings concerning the part which you had chosen. SIR THOMAS MORE. My verses, friend, had none of the athanasia in their composition. Though they have not yet perished, they cannot be said to have a living existence ; even you, I suspect, have sought for * Sir Thomas More made these verses for his pastime while he was prisoner in the Tower of London : — Davy the Dvcer. Long was I, Lady Lucke, your serving man, And now liave lostagayne all that I gat; Wiicrfore wlian I thinke on you novve and than, And ill my mynde remember this and that, Ye may not blame me thougli I beshrew your cat: IJut ill I'uyih I l^lessc you agayne a thousand times, I'or lending me now some leysure to mak rhymes. ' Tindal tellcth me,' says Sir Thomas, in liis answer to that Reformer, ' I have been so longe used in my f'ygures of * poetry, that when I erre most, I do now as he suj)poscth, by ' reesoii oi' ;i long custume, byleve myself. As for my poetry, • veraly 1 can lytell ellys, and yet not that neytlicr." pp. 126. POETS, 303 them rather because of our personal acquaint- ance than for any other motive. Had I been only a poet, those poems, such as they were, would have preserved my name ; but being re- membered for other grounds, better and worse, the name which I have left has been one cause why they have past into oblivion, sooner than their perishable nature would have carried them thither. If in the latter part of my mortal exist- ence I had misgivings concerning any of my writings, they were of the single one, which is still a living work, and which will continue so to be. I feared that speculative opinions, which had been intended for the possible but remote benefit of mankind, might, by unhappy circum- stances, be rendered instrumental to great and immediate evil ; . . an apprehension however which was altogether free from self-reproach. But my verses will continue to exist in their mummy state, long after the worms shall have consumed many of those poetical reputations which are at this time in the cherry-cheek'd bloom of health and youth. Old poets will always retain their value for antiquaries and philologists; modern ones are far too numerous ever to acquire an accidental usefulness of this kind, even if the language were to undergo greater changes than any circumstances are 304 POETS. likely to produce. There will now be more poets* in every generation than in that which preceded it ; they will increase faster than your population ; and as their number increases, so must the proportion of those who will be re- membered necessarily diminish. Tell the Fitz- Muses this ! It is a consideration, Sir Poet, which may serve as a refrigerant for their ar- dour. Those of the tribe who may flourish hereafter (as the flourishing phrase is) in any particular age, will be little more remembered in the next than the Lord Mayors and Sheriffs who were their contemporaries. MONTESINOS. Father in verse, if you had not put ofl' flesh and blood so long, you would not imagine that this consideration will diminish their number. I am sure it would not have affected me forty years ago, had I seen this truth then as clearly as I perceive and feel it now. Though it were * ' Poets increase and nuiltiply to that stupendous degree/ says Lady Mary Wortlcy Montagu (writing in 1723), ' you ' see tliem at every turn, even in embroidered coats, and pink- ' coloured top-knots : making verses is become ahnost as coni- ' mon as taking snufT, and God can tell what miserable stuff ' pioplc carry about in their pockets and ofl'cr to all their ' acquaintances, and you know one cannot refuse reading and • taking a pinch.' — Vol, iii. p. 135. POETRY. 305 manifest to all men that not one poet in an age, in a century, ..a millennium, could establish his claim to be for ever known, every aspirant would persuade himself that he is the happy person for whom the inheritance of fame is re- served. And when the dream of immortality is dispersed, motives enough remain for reasonable ambition. It is related of some good man, (I forget who) that upon his death-bed he recommended his son to employ himself in cultivating a garden, and in composing verses, . . thinking these to be at once the happiest and the most harmless of all pur- suits. Poetry may be, and too often has been wickedly perverted to evil purposes, . . what in- deed is there that may not, when religion itself is not safe from such abuses ! but the good which it does inestimably exceeds the evil. It is no trifling good to provide means of innocent and intellectual enjoyment for so many thousands, in a state like ours ; an enjoyment, heightened, as in every instance it is within some little circle, by personal considerations, raising it to a degree which may deserve to be called happiness. It is no trifling good to win the ear of children with verses which foster in them the seeds of huma- nity and tenderness and piety, awaken their fancy, and exercise pleasurably and wholesomely VOL. ir. X 306 POETRY. their imaginative and meditative powers. It is no trifling benefit to provide a ready mirror for the young, in which they may see their own best feelings reflected, and wherein ' whatsoever ' tilings are honest, whatsoever things are just, * whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things ' are lovely,' are presented to them in the most attractive form. It is no trifling benefit to send abroad strains which may assist in preparing the heart for its trials, and in supporting it under them. But there is a greater good than this, . . a farther benefit. . .Although it is in verse that the most consummate skill in composition is to be looked for, and all the artifice of language displayed, yet it is in verse only that we throw off the yoke of the world, and are as it were privileged to utter our deepest and holiest feel- ings. Poetry in this respect may be called the salt of the earth ; we express in it, and receive in it sentiments for which, were it not for this per- mitted medium, the usages of the world would neither allow utterance nor acceptance. And who can tell in our heart-chilling and heart- hardening society, how much more selfish, how much more debased, Ikjw much worse we should have been, in all moral and intellectual respects, had it not been for the unnoticed and unsuspected influence of this preservative ? Even much of that POETS. 307 poetry, wliicli is in its composition worthless, or absolutely bad, contributes to this good. SIR THOMAS MORE. Such poetry then, according to your view, is to be regarded with indulgence. MONTESINOS. Thank Heaven, Sir Thomas, I am no farther critical than every author must necessarily be who makes a careful study of his own art. To understand the principles of criticism is one thing ; to be what is called critical, is another ; the first is like being versed in jurisprudence, the other like being litigious. Even those poets who contribute to the mere amusement of their readers, while that amusement is harmless, are to be regarded with complacency if not respect. They are the butterflies of literature, who, during the short season of their summer, enliven the gar- den and the field. It were pity to touch them even with a tender hand, lest we should brush the down from their wings. SIR THOMAS MORE. These are they of whom I spake as angling in shallow waters. You will not regard with the same complacency those who trouble the stream; still less those who poison it. X 2 308 CURRENT LITERATURK. MOXTESIXOS. Vesanum tetigisse ti7nent, fiigiiintque poetam Qui sapiunt ; agitant pueri, incaulique seqiauitur. SIR THOMAS MORE. This brings ns again to the point at which you bolted. The desire of producing present effect, the craving for immediate reputation, have led to another vice, analogous to, and connected with, that of the vicious style, which the same causes are producing, but of worse consequences. The corruption extends from the manner to the matter; and they who brew for the press, like some of those who brew for the publicans, care not, if the potion has but its desired strength, how deleterious may be the ingredients which they use. Horrors at which the innocent heart quails, and the healthy stomach heaves in loathing, are among the least hurtful of their stimulants. MONTESINOS. This, too, Sir Thomas, is no new evil. An ap- petite for horrors is one of the diseased cravings of tlie human mind; and in old times the trage- dies which most abounded in them, were for that reason the most popular. The dramatists of our best age, great Ben and greater Shakspeare ex- cepted, were guilty of a farther sin, with which tlic writers whom you censure arc also to be CURRENT LITERATURE. 309 reproached ; they excited their auditors by the representation of monstrous crimes, . . crimes out of the course of nature. Such fables mio-ht Uxw- fully be brought upon the Grecian stage, because the belief of the people divested them of their odious and dangerous character ; there they were well known stories, regarded with a religious persuasion of their truth ; and the personages, being represented as under the over-ruling in- fluence of dreadful Destiny, were regarded there- fore with solemn commiseration, not as voluntary and guilty agents. There is nothing of this to palliate or excuse the production of such stories in later times ; the choice, and, in a still greater degree, the invention of any such, implies in the author not merely a want of judgement, but a defect in moral feeling. Here, however, the dramatists of that age stopt. They desired to excite in their audience the pleasure of horror, and this was an abuse of the poet's art : but they never aimed at disturbing their moral perceptions, at presenting wickedness in an attractive form, exciting sympathy with guilt, and admiration for villainy, thereby confounding the distinctions between right and wrong. This has been done in our days ; and it has accorded so well with the tendency of other things, that the moral drift of a book is no long-er reo^arded, and the severest 310 COPYRIGHT. censure which can be past upon it is to say that it is in bad taste ; such is the phrase, . . and the phrase is not confined to books alone. Anything may be written, said, or done, in bad feeling, and with a wicked intent ; and the public are so to- lerant of these, that he who should express a displeasure on that score, would be censured for bad taste himself! SIR THOMAS MORE. And yet you talked of the improvement of the age, and of the current literature as exceeding in worth that of any former time ! MONTESINOS. The portion of it which shall reach to future times will justify me; for we have living minds who have done their duty to their own age, and to posterity. SIR THOMAS MORE. Has the age, in return, done its duty to them ? MONTESINOS. They complain not of the age, but they com- pkiin of an anomalous injustice in the laws. They complain that authors are deprived of a perpetual property in the produce of their own labours, when all other persons enjoy it as an indefeasible and acknowledged right. And they ask upon what principle, with what equity, or under what pretence of public good they are COPYRIGHT. 311 subjected to this injurious enactment? Is it be- cause their labour is so lig'ht, the endowments which are required for it so common, the attain- ments so cheaply and easily acquired, and the present remuneration in all cases so adequate, so ample, and so certain ? The act whereby authors are deprived of that property in their own works, which, upon every principle of reason, natural justice, and common law, they ought to enjoy, is so curiously injurious in its operation, that it bears with most hardship upon the best works. For books of great im mediate popularity have their run, and come to a dead stop : the hardship is upon those which win their way slowly and difhcultly, but keep the field at last. And it will not appear surprising that this should generally have been the case with books of the highest merit, if we consider what obstacles to the success of a work may be opposed by the circumstances and obscurity of the author, when he presents himself as a candi- date for fame, by the humour, or the fashion of the times ; the taste of the public, . . more likely to be erroneous than right at any time ; and the incompetence, or personal malevolence of some unprincipled critic, who may take upon himself to guide the public opinion, and who, if he feels in his own heart that the fame of the man whom 312 COPYRIGHT. he hates is invuhierable, lays in wait for that reason the more vigilantly to wound him in his fortunes. In such cases, when the copyright, as by the existing law, departs from the author's family at his death, or at the end of twenty-eight years from the first publication of every work, (if he dies before the expiration of that term,) his representatives are deprived of their property just as it would begin to prove a valuable in- heritance. The last descendants of Milton died in poverty. The descendants of Shakspeare are living in poverty, and in the lowest condition of life. Is this just to these individuals? Is it grateful to the memory of those who are the pride and boast of their country ? Is it honourable or becoming to us as a nation, holding, . . the better part of us assuredly, and the majority affecting to hold, . . the names of Shakspeare and Milton in venera- tion? To have placed the descendants of Shak- speare and Milton in respectability and comfort, . . in that sphere of life where, with a full pro- vision for our natural wants and social enjoyments, free scope is given to the growth of our intellec- tual and immortal part, simple justice was all that wns ro([uircd ; . . only that they should have pos- sessed tlic perpetual copyright of their ancestors' works, . . only that they should not have been dej)rived of their proper inheritance. COPYRIGHT. 3 1 3 The decision which time pronounces upon the reputation of authors, and upon the permanent rank which they are to hold in the estimation of posterity, is unerring* and final. Restore to them that perpetuity in the property of their works, of which the law has deprived them, and the reward of literary labour will ultimately be in just pro- portion to its deserts. However slight might be the hope of obtaining any speedy redress, there is some satisfaction in earnestly protesting against this injustice. And, believing as I do, that if society continues to improve, no injustice will long be permitted to continue after it has been fairly exposed, and is clearly apprehended, I cannot but believe that a time must come wdien the rights of lite- rature will be acknowledged, and its wrongs re- dressed ; and that those authors hereafter who shall deserve well of posterity, will have no cause to reproach themselves for having sacrificed the interests of their children when they disregarded the pursuit of fortune for themselves. 314 COLLOQUY XV. THE CONCLUSION. MONTESINOS. Here, Sir Thomas, is the opinion which I have attempted to maintain concerning the progress and tendency of society, placed in a proper position, and inexpugnably entrenched there according to the rules of art, by the ablest of all moral engineers. SIR THOMAS MORE. Who may this political Achilles be whom you have called in to your assistance ? MONTESINOS. Whom Fortune rather has sent to my aid, for my reading has never been in such authors. I have endeavoured always to drink from the spring- head, but never ventured out to fish in the deep waters. Thor, himself, when he had hooked the Great Serpent, was unable to draw him up from the abyss. SIR THOMAS MORE. The waters in which you have now been ang- KANT. 315 ling have been shallow enough, if the pamph- let in your hand is, as it appears to be, a magazine. MONfESINOS. ' Ego sum is,' said Scaliger*, * qui ab omnibus ' discere volo ; neqiie tarn malum librum esse piito, ' ex quo lion aliquem fnictum colligere possum.' I think myself repaid, in a monkish legend, for examining a mass of inane fiction, if I discover a single passage which elucidates the real his- tory or manners of its age. In old poets of the third and fourth order we are contented with a little ore, and a great deal of dross. And so in publications of this kind, prejudicial as they are to public taste and public feeling, and therefore deeply injurious to the real interests of litera- ture, something may sometimes be found to com- pensate for the trash and tinsel and insolent flip- pancy, which are now become the staple com- modities of such journals. This number con- tains Kant's idea of a Universal History on a Cosmo-Political plan; and that Kant is as pro- found a philosopher as his disciples have pro- claimed him to be, this little treatise would fully convince me, if I had not already believed it, in reliance upon one of the very few men * Epist. 59. p. 172 316 KANTS PROPOSITIONS. who are capable of forming a judg-ment upon such a writer. The sum of his argument is this : that as deaths, births, and marriages, and the oscilla- tions of the weather, irregular as they seem to be in themselves, are, nevertheless, reduceable upon the great scale to certain rules ; so tliere may be discovered in the course of human his- tory, a steady and continuous, though slow de- velopement of certain great predispositions in human nature : and that although men neither act under the law of instinct like brute animals, nor under the law of a preconcerted plan like rational cosmopolites, tlie great current of human actions flows in a regular stream of tendency to- ward this developement : individuals and nations, while pursuing their own peculiar and often contradictory purposes, following the guidance of a great natural purpose, and thus promoting a process, which even if they perceived it, they would little regard. What that process is he states in the following series of propositions : — 1st. All tendencies of any creature, to which it is predisposed by nature, are destined in the end to develope themselves perfectly, and agree- ably to their final purpose. 2d. In man, as the sole rational creature upon earth, those tendencies which have the KANT'S PROPOSITIONS. 317 use of his reason for their object are destined to obtain their perfect developement in the species only, and not in the individual. 3d. It is the will of nature that man should owe to himself alone everything which trans- cends the mere mechanic constitution of his animal existence, and that he should be suscep- tible of no other happiness or perfection than what he has created for himself, instinct apart, through his own reason. 4th. The means which nature employs to bring about the developement of all the tendencies she has laid in man, is the antagonism of those tendencies in the social state, . . no farther, how- ever, than to that point at which this antago- nism becomes the cause of social arrangements founded in law. 5th. The highest problem for the human spe- cies, to the solution of which it is irresistibly urged by natural impulses, is the establishment of a universal civil society, founded on the empire of political justice. 6th. This problem is, at the same time, the most difficult of all, and the one which is latest solved by man. 7th. The problem of the establishment of a perfect constitution of society depends upon the problem of a system of international relations, 318 KANTS PROPOSITIONS, adjusted to law, and apart from this latter pro- blem cannot be solved. 8tli. The history of the human race, as a whole, may be regarded as the unravelling of a hidden plan of nature for accomplishing a per- fect state of civil constitution for society in its internal relations, (and as the condition of that, by the last proposition, in its external relations also,) as the sole state of society in which the tendencies of human nature can be all and fully developed. SIR THOMAS MORE. This is indeed a master of the sentences, upon whose text it may be profitable to dwell. Let us look to his propositions. From the first this conclusion must follow ; that as nature has given man all his faculties for use, any system of society in which the moral and intellectual powers of any portion of the people are left undeve- loped for want of cultivation, or receive a per- verse direction, is plainly opposed to the system of Nature, in other words, to the will of God. Is there any Government upon earth that will bear this test? MONTESINOS. I should rather ask of you, . . will there ever be one ? KANT'S PROPOSITIONS. 319 SIR THOMAS MORE. Not till there be a system of Government, con- ducted in strict conformity to the precepts of the Gospel. MONTESINOS. Offer these truths to Power, will she obey ? It prunes her pomp, perchance ploughs up the root. Lord Brooke. Yet in conformity to those principles alone it is that subjects can find their perfect welfare, and states their full security. Christianity may be long in obtaining the victory over the powers of this world, but when that consummation shall have taken place, the converse of his second proposition will hold good ; for the species hav- ing obtained its perfect developement, the con- dition of society must then be such, that indi- viduals will obtain it also as a necessary con- sequence. SIR THOMAS IMORE. Here you and your Philosopher part company. For he asserts that man is left to deduce from his own unassisted reason every thing which relates not to his mere material nature. MONTESINOS. There, indeed, I must diverge from him ; and what in his language is called the hidden plan of Nature, in mine will be the revealed will of God. 320 DANGERS OF SOCIETY. SIR THOMAS MORE. The will is revealed ; but the plan is hidden. Let man dutifully obey that will, and the per- fection of society and of human nature will be the result of such obedience; but upon obedience they depend. Blessings and curses are set be- fore you, . . for nations as for individuals, . . yea for the human race. Flatter not yourself with delusive expecta- tions ! The end may be according to your hope ; whether it will be so, (which God grant !) is as inscrutable for Angels as for men. But to descry that great struggles are yet to come is within reach of human foresight, .. that great tri- bulations must needs accompany them, . . and that these may be . . you know not how near at hand ! Throughout what is called the Christian world there will be a contest between Impiety and Religion ; the former everywhere is gathering strength, and wherever it breaks loose the foun- dations of human societv will be shaken. Do not suppose that you are safe from this danger because you are blessed with a pure creed, a reformed ritual, and a tolerant Church ! Even here the standard of impiety has been set up ; und the drummers who beat the march of intel- lect through your streets, lanes, and market- places, are enlisted under it. DANGERS OF SOCIETY. 321 The struggle between Popery and Protestantism is renewed. And let no man deceive himself by a vain reliance upon the increased knowledge, or Unproved humanity of the times ! Wickedness is ever the same ; and vou never were in so much dano-er from moral weakness. Co-existent with these struggles is that be- tween the feudal system of society as variously modified throughout Europe, and the levelling principle of democracy. That principle is ac- tively and indefatigably at work in these king- doms, allying itself as occasion may serve with Popery or with Dissent, with Atheism or with Fanaticism, with Profligacy or with Hypocrisy, ready confederates, each having its own sinister views, but all acting to one straight forward end. Your rulers meantime seem to be trying that experiment with the British Constitution which Mithridates is said to have tried upon his own ; they suffer poison to be administered in daily doses, as if they expected that by such a course the public mind would at length be rendered poison-proof ! The first of these struggles will affect all Christendom ; the third may once again shake the monarchies of Europe. The second will be felt widely ; but nowhere with more violence than in Ireland, that unhappy country, wherein your VOL. ir. Y 322 D-\NGERS OF SOCIETY. Government, after the most impolitic measures into which weakness was ever deluded or pusil- lanimity intimidated, seems to have abdicated its functions, contenting itself with the semblance of an authority which it has wanted either wis- dom or courao'C to exert. There is a fourth danger, the growth of your \^ manufacturing system ; and this is peculiarly your own. You have a great and increasing po- pulation, exposed at all times by the fluctuations of trade to suffer the severest privations in the midst of a rich and luxurious society, under little or no restraint from religious principle, and if not absolutely disaffected to the institutions of the country, certainly not attached to them: a class of men aware of their numbers and of their strength ; experienced in all the details of com- bination ; improvident when they are in the re- ceipt of good wages, yet feeling themselves in- jured when those wages, during some failure of demand, are so lowered as no longer to afford the means of comfortable subsistence ; and di- recting against the Government and the laws of the country their resentment and indignation for the evils which have been brought upon them by competition and the spirit of rivalry in trade. They have among them intelligent heads and daring minds ; and you have already seen how DANGERS OF SOCIETY. 323 perilously they may be wrought upon by sedi- tious journalists and seditious orators, in a time of distress. On what do you rely for security against these dangers ? On public opinion ? You might as well calculate upon the constancy of wind and weather in this uncertain climate. On the pro- gress of knowledge? it is such knowledge as serves only to facilitate the course of delusion. On the laws 1 the law, which should be like a sword in a strong hand, is weak as a bulrush if it be feebly administered in time of danger. On the people ? they are divided. On the Parlia- ment? every faction will be fully and formidably represented there. On the Government? it suf- fers itself to be insulted and defied at home, and abroad it has shown itself incapable of maintain- ing the relations of peace and amity with its allies, so far has it been divested of power by the usurpation of the press. It is at peace with Spain, and it is at peace with Turkey ; and althouo^h no o-overnment was ever more desirous of acting with good faith, its subjects are openly assisting the Greeks with men and money against the one, and the Spanish Americans against the other. Athens, in the most turbulent times of its democracy, was not more effectually domi- neered over by its demagogues than you are by Y 2 324 DANGERS OF SOCIETY. the press, . . a press which is not only without restraint, but without responsibility ; and in the management of which those men will always have most power M'ho have least probity, and have most completely divested themselves of all sense of honour, and all regard for truth. The root of all your evils is in the sinfulness of the nation. The principle of duty is weak- ened among you ; that of moral obligation is loosened ; that of religious obedience is de- stroyed. Look at the worldliness of all classes, . . the greediness of the rich . . the misery of the poor, .. and the appalling depravity* which is spreading among the lower classes through town and country ; . . a depravity which proceeds un- checked because of the total want of discipline, and for which there is no other corrective than Avhat may be supplied by fanaticism, which is itself an evil. If tliere be nothing exaggerated in this repre- sentation, you must acknowledge that though the human race, considered upon the great scale, * The Rejjort of llic (loiiiniittee for inquiring into llu; cause of the increase of Conimitments and Convictions in Lijuiloii and Middlesex, states, that notwitiistandiui^ all we hi-iir of scliools and the j)rogress of education, juvenile de- pravity was never so unlimited in decree, or so desjierate in character. HOPES OF SOCIETY. 325 should be proceeding toward the perfectibility for which it may be designed, the present as- pects in these kingdoms are nevertheless rather for evil than for good . . . Sum you up now upon the hopeful side. MONTESIXOS. First, then, I rest in a humble but firm re- liance upon that Providence which sometimes in its mercy educes from the errors of men a hap- pier issue than could ever have been attained by their wisdom ; . . that Providence which has delivered this nation from so many and such imminent dangers heretofore. Looking, then, to human causes, there is hope to be derived from the humanizing eifects of lite- rature, which has now first begun to act upon all ranks. Good principles are indeed used as the stalking horse under cover of which pernicious designs may be advanced ; but the better seeds are thus disseminated and fructify after the ill design has failed. The cruelties of the old criminal law have been abrogated. Debtors are no longer indis- criminately punished by indefinite imprisonment. The iniquity of the slave trade has been acknow- ledged, and put an end to, so far as the power of this country extends ; and although slavery is still tolerated, and must be so for awhile, mea-* 326 HOPES OF SOCIETY. sures have been taken for alleviating it while it continues, and preparing the way for its gradual and safe removal. These are good works of the Government. And when I look upon the con duct of that Government in all its foreign rela- tions, though there may be some things to disapprove, and some sins of omission to regret, it has been, on the whole, so disinterested, so magnanimous, so just, that this reflection gives me a reasonable, and a religious ground of hope. And the reliance is strengthened when I call to mind that missionaries from Great Britain are at this hour employed in spreading the glad tidings of the Gospel far and wide among hea- then nations. Descending from these wider views to the details of society, there, too, I perceive ground, if not for confidence, at least for hope. There is a general desire throughout the higher ranks for bettering the condition of the poor, a subject to which the Government also has directed its patient attention : minute inquiries have been made into their existing state, and the increase of pauperism and of crimes. In no other country have the wounds of the commonwealth Ijeen so carefully probed. By means of colonization, of an improved parocliial order, and of a more efficient police, the further increase of these evils HOPES OF SOCIETY. 327 may be prevented; while, by education, by pro- viding means of religious instruction for all, by Saving-Banks, and perhaps by the establishment of Owenite communities among themselves, the labourins: classes will have their comforts en- larged, and their well-being secured, if they are not wanting to themselves in prudence and good conduct. A beginning has been made, . . an impulse given : it may be hoped . . . almost, I will say, it may be expected . . . that in a few genera- tions this whole class will be placed within the reach of moral and intellectual gratifications, whereby they may be rendered healthier, hap- pier, better in all respects, an improvement which will be not more beneficial to them as individuals, than to the whole body of the com- monweal. The diffusion of literature, though it has ren- dered the acquirement of general knowledge impossible, and tends inevitably to diminish the number of sound scholars, while it increases the multitude of sciolists, carries with it a beneficial influence to the lower classes. Our booksellers already perceive that it is their interest to pro- vide cheap publications for a wide public, instead of looking to the rich alone as their customers. There is reason to expect that, in proportion as this is done, . . in proportion as the common peo- 328 HOPES OF SOCIETY. pie are supplied with wholesome entertainment, (and wholesome it is, if it be only harmless) they will be less liable to be acted upon by fanaticism and sedition. You have not exao-o-erated the influence of the newspaper press, nor the profligacy of some of those persons by whom this unrestrained and irresponsible power is exercised. Nevertheless it has done and is doino; o-reat and essential good. The greatest evils in society proceed from the abuse of power; and this, though abun- dantly manifested in the newspapers themselves, they prevent in other quarters. No man engaged in public life could venture now upon such trans- actions as no one, in their station, half a century ago, would have been ashamed of. There is an end of that scandalous jobbing which at that time existed in eveiy department of the state, and in every branch of the public service ; and a check is imposed upon any scandalous and unfit promotion, civil or ecclesiastical. By what- ever persons the government may be adminis- tered, they are now well aware tliat they must do nothing which will Jiot boar daylight and strict investigation. The magistrates also are closely observed by tliis self-constituted ccnsor- shij) ; ;iih1 llic inferior officers cannot escape exposure for any perversion of justice, or undue HOPES OF SOCIETY. 329 exei'cise of authority. Public nuisances are abated by the same means, and public griev- ances, which the legislature might else overlook, are forced upon its attention. Thus, in ordinarv times, the utility of this branch of the press is so great, that one of the worst evils to be appre- hended from the abuse of its power at all times, and the wicked purposes to which it is directed in dangerous ones, is the ultimate loss of a liberty which is essential to the public good, but which, when it passes into licentiousness, and effects the overthrow of a state, perishes in the ruin it has brought on. In the fine arts, as well as in literature, a levelling principle is going on, fatal perhaps to excellence, but favourable to mediocrity. Such facilities are afforded to imitative talent, that whatever is imitable will be imitated. Genius will often be suppressed by this_, and when it exerts itself, will find it far more difiicult to obtain notice than in former times. There is the evil here, that ingenious persons are seduced into a profession which is already crowded with unfortunate adventurers ; but, on the other hand, there is a great increase of individual and do- mestic enjoyment. Accomplishments which were almost exclusively professional in the last ao-e, are now to be found in every family within a 330 HOPES OF SOCIETY. certain rank of life. Wherever there is a dispo- sition for the art of design, it is cultivated ; and in consequence of the general proficiency in this most useful of the fine arts, travellers represent to our view the manners and scenery of the countries which they visit, as well by the pencil as the pen. By means of two fortunate dis- coveries in the art of engraving, these graphic representations are brought within the reach of whole classes who were formerly precluded by the expense of such things from these sources of gratification and instruction. Artists and en- gravers of great name are now, like authors and booksellers, induced to employ themselves for this lower and wider sphere of purchasers. In all this I see the cause as well as the eflfect of a progressive refinement, which must be beneficial in many ways. This very diffusion of cheap books and cheap prints may, in its natural con- sequences, operate rather to diminish than to increase the number of adventurers in literature and iu the arts. For though at first it will create employment for greater numbers, yet in another generation imitative talent will become so common, that neither parents nor possessors \\\\\ mistake it for an indication of extraordinary genius, and many will thus be saved from a ruinous delusion. More pictures will be painted, HOPES OF SOCIETY. 331 but fewer exhibited,, .more poetry written, but less published : and in both arts, talents which might else have been carried to an overstocked and unprofitable market, will be cultivated for their own sakes, and for the gratification of pri- vate circles, becoming thus a source of sure en- joyment, and indirectly of moral good. Scientific pursuits will, in like manner, be extended, and pursuits which partake of science, and afford pleasures within the reach of humble life. Here, then, is good in progress which will hold on its course, and the growth of which will only be suspended, not destroyed, during any of those political convulsions which may too pro- bably be apprehended ; . .too probably, I say, be- cause when you call upon me to consider the sinfulness of this nation, my heart fails. There can be no health, no soundness in the state, till Government shall regard the moral improvement of the people as its first great duty. The same remedy is required for the rich and for the poor. Relio'ion ouofht to be so blended with the whole course of instruction, that its doctrines and pre- cepts should indeed ' drop as the rain, and distil * as the dew, as the small rain upon the tende - ' herb, and as the showers upon the grass ;' . . the young plants would then imbibe it, and the heart and intellect assimilate it with their growth. 332 HOPES OF SOCIETY. We are, in a great degree, what our institutions make us. Gracious God ! were those institutions adapted to Thy Avill and word, . . were we but broken in from chiklliood to Thy easy yoke,.. were we but carefully instructed to believe and obey, , . in that obedience and belief we should surely find our temporal welfare and our eternal liappiness ! Here, indeed, I tremble at the prospect ! Could I look beyond the clouds and the darkness which close upon it, I should then think that there may come a time when that scheme for a perpetual peace among the states of Christendom which Henri IV. formed, and wdiicli has been so ably digested by the Abbe St. Pierre, will no longer be regarded as the speculation of a visionary. The Holy Alliance, imperfect and unstable as it is, is in itself a recognition of the principle. At this day it would be practicable, if one part of Europe were as well prepared for it as the other ; but this cannot be, till good shall have tri- umphed over evil in the struggles which are brooding, or shall have obtained such a predo- minance as to allay the conllict of opinions be- fore it breaks into open war. God in his mercy grant that it be so! If I looked to secondary causes alone, my fears would preponderate. But 1 conclude as I began, in HOPES OF SOCIETY. 333 firm reliance upon Him who is the beginning and the end. Our sins are manifold ; our danger is great ; but His mercy is infinite. SIR THOMAS MORE. Rest there in full faith. I leave you to your dreams ; draw from them what comfort you can. And now, my friend, farewell ! The look which he fixed on me, as he dis- appeared, was compassionate and thoughtful ; it impressed me with a sad feeling, as if I were not to see him ag-ain till we should meet in the w^orld of spirits. APPENDIX. APPENDIX. Protestant Sisters of Charity. Vol. II. p. 223. " My friend C is a country clerg\'man. In his youth he was an officer in the amiy, and served during several cam- paigns in the late war in tlie Peninsula. Having a pleasing figure and countenance, very animated manners, an amiable disposition, and l)uoyant spirits, he was a great favourite both with men and women in the numerous circle of his acquaint- ance, and indulged in all that gaiety and dissipation for which the warm southern nations of the continent offer such tempt- ing and boundless opportunities. At the conclusion of the war, he quitted the army, looked round for a profession, and, unsuitable as it may appear, fixed on the church ; and having passed the requisite time at College, Cambridge, in lionest and earnest study, he took orders, married, and ob- tained a curacy. He is now living in the retired and beautiful village of , in the county of . The contemplations and active duties of religion have generated in him a mood of mind adapted to his holy office. He is naturally eloquent ; he has a ready command of language — a warm and tender heart, which often trembles in his voice during the more touch- ing and empassioned parts of his sermons. His congregation, of course, think him the most eloquent of preachers. But this is not all : to the distressed he is active in giving and pro- curing relief — to the sick, or those in sorrow, in offering support and consolation — in short, he is an excellent parish priest. In talking about the contrast between his past and present modes of life, he often declares that he was never happy till now, and that although his income is so narrow as to require the utmost frugality to render it equal to his ex- penses, he would not exchange the tranquil happiness which VOL. II. Z 338 APPENDIX. lie derives from the (hities, the contemplations, and tlie pro- spects of religion, for all the splendid gaiety, the intoxicating excitement, and the lavish expenses of his youth. He some- times comes to town to visit me. On one of these occasions he was complaining of the difficulty of procuring medical at- tendance for the sick poor of his parish, many of whom lived far from the town where the parish surgeon resides. The surgeon himself was too busy in visiting his rich patients — his assistant was ignorant and inattentive — and my friend was convinced that his poor sick flock often suffered a length of illness, and sometimes death, which earlier and better care might have prevented. This gave him great pain, and he was wishing that it was possible to procure a few women of a superior order to the generality of nurses, and taught by a residence in the hospitals to recognize and relieve the most common kinds of illness. ' They should be,' he added, ' ani- mated with religion. Science and mere humanity cannot be relied on. An order of women such as these, distributed among the country parishes in the kingdom, would be of in- calculable value. It was formerly the boast of the Catholics that the Protestants had no missionaries. That boast is silenced, but they may still affirm that Protestantism has not yet produced her Sisters of Charity.' " When I was in Flanders a short time ago, I saw at Bruges and Ghent some of this singular and useful order of Nuns — they are all of a respectable station in society, and I was told that it is not uncommon for the females of the most wealthy, and even noble families, voluntarily to quit the world and its pleasures, and enter this order, and dedicate themselves to the most menial attendance on the sick. I went one morning to the hospital at Bruges ; all the nurses are ' Beguines,' and it was a striking sight to see these women, whose coun- tenances, manners, and a something in the quality, or clean- ness of their stifi" white hoods, and black russet gowns, ex- ])ressive of a station suj)eri()r to their office, one with a pail in her hand, another down on her knees washing the floor of the chaj)el. The ])hysician to the hospital sj)oke in the highest terms of the humility and tenderness with which they nursed APPENDIX. 339 his patients. When I fell ill myself, wliich I did during my stay in this town, I was near having a Sister of Charity for my nurse. " My friend is right. The attendants on the sick, wliether professional or menial, are commonly actuated by scientific zeal, by mere natural humanity, or by mercenary motives ; but these cannot be trusted to for steady attention — the one subsides with the solution of a question, the other hardens by habit, the last requires jealous inspection — there are long in- tervals of indifference, and apathy, and inattention — we want an actuating motive of a more steady and enduring nature, which requires neither curiosity, nor emotion, nor avarice to keep it alive, which still burns in the most tranquil states of mind, and out of the reach of human inspection, and this motive is religion. " I have often seen, and still often see (for I must let out the secret that I am a physician), cases in which the sufferings of illness are much increased, and I have every reason to be- lieve the chances of recovery much diminished by a want of persevering attention to the sick ; but an example occurred to me when I was a young man, which at the time when it happened affected me much, and has left on my mind an indelible impression. AVhilst I was a student at the university of , and during one Oi the long vacations wliich I was spending at ■ on the coast of , an English frigate captured a French frigate, brought her into the roads, and the sick and wounded were sent on shore to a temporary hospital which was fitted up for the purpose. As the ordinary medical attendants were insufficient to attend upon the sufferers, others were invited to assist them, and I was entrusted with the care of two small wards, one of them full of Frenchmen. They were an orderly and peaceable set of men, received the attentions which I paid them with thankfulness, and when those who were cured were sent from the hospital to the prison, they used to come to me before departing, in a cluster, with a spokesman at their head, who, with an air of courtesy which is seldom seen among English sailors, expressed the general gratitude of the whole parly for the huaianity witli z 2 340 APPENDIX. which tlicy had been attended. Among these poor fellows there was one who excited unusual interest in me — his name was Pierre * * * * ; he was a tall slender young man, about two and twenty years of age, with a sallow countenance, a full dark eye, and hair of the deepest black. You would have been certain that he was a foreigner, and have guessed that he was an Italian — he had received a severe wound in his right leg, which had affected the knee with pain and swelling. The principal surgeons at the hospital deliberated whether or no to remove the limb ; a humane desire to save it if possible, led them to postpone the operation for several weeks, but the time at length arrived when it was obviously necessary to sacrifice tlie limb, in order to save his life, and the operation was ])crformed above the knee. Pierre went through it with admirable firmness — I had the command of the tourniquet. After the removal of the limb the blood- vessels were secured with ligatures — the wound was closed and bandaged, a cotton night-cap was drawn over the stump, and poor Pierre was lifted from tlic operation-table, and gently placed in a warm, clean, comfortable bed. For several weeks his chief suffering had been pain in the knee. In the evening after the operation I went to see him, and as I entered the ward, I heard him comjjlaining aloud of })ain in the knee. I told him it was impossibh; that he could have pain in that knee, as it had been cut oft" in the morning, but tliis did not satisfy him ; he still called out loudly about i)ain in his knee. I lii'ted up the bed-clothes, and shewed him that his knee was gone ; he looked at it for a moment, and then raising his eyes, earnestly said, ' Then it is the ghost of my knee.' The truth is, that he really felt pain ; but by an error which surgeons often witness, and metaphysicians have often described, re- ferred it to a part which was gone. " The stump healed slowly ; at length it did heal, but now wc had a new difficulty to encounter. From long lying in bed upon his back, the skin on the loins began to come off, first in liule ])!aces, which, gradually extending, joined, and formcrl a large wound ; and this began to slough, as surgeons called it, that is, portions of the flesli died and fell away. What APPENDIX. 341 was to be done ? As long as he continued to lie on liis back, the pressure on the flesh, which was able to cause this ulcera- tion, would, of course, be able to prevent its healing. No good was to be hoped for unless we could lift him off" his back. I need not relate the difficulties which I encountered in this task, the various contrivances which I employed, and the pains and time which I spent in effecting my object ; but I did eff"ect it. I so adjusted his bed and pillows, that one day he lay on one side, another day on the other, and never on his back. The consequence was, that the ulceration and sloughing stopped ; the wound began to look healthy, filled up with new flesh, then skinned over; and at the same time Pierre was recovering his health and looks ; he slept well, enjoyed his food, gained flesh, and began to look another man. The wound was nearly healed, when, just at this critical period, the time arrived for my return to the Univer- sity ; and I took leave of poor Pierre and my other patients. I did not, however, go straight to the university, but went first to spend ten days or a fortnight with my relations. As I WTite this I feel a pang of self-reproach. On my way to the university I had to go back through the town, and, of course, visited the hospital to see how my patients were going on. That visit was a painful one. I shall never forget it. During my absence Pierre had fallen under the care of a young man, an assistant-surgeon, who, although good tempered, and not deficient in sense or in knowledge of his profession, was in- corrigibly indolent and inattentive. Pierre was allowed to roll on his back again ; the young skin and flesh soon ulcerated and sloughed ; a hectic fever followed ; he lost his appetite, and wasted to a skeleton. He was in this state when I returned and visited the hospital. As I opened the door of the ward in which Pierre lay, it so happened that his eyes, always large and prominent, but now larger and more promi- nent from the emaciated appearance of his fiice, were turned towards the door, and he instantly caught sight of me. Poor fellow ! I think I now see him first lay his left cheek on his pillow, then turn his face toward me again, clasp his hands, burst into tears, and exclaim that he should now die happy. 342 APPENDIX. He had been for some days aware of his approaching disso- lution, had been writing verses on me in French, aiid re- peatedly expressed a hope tliat he should live till I returned, tliat he micht see me once more, and take leave of me for ever. He had his wish, and that was all. He died that niglit. " Let the Church, or if not, let that class of Christians in whom, above all others, religion is not a mere Sunday cere- mony, but tlie daily and hourly principle of their thoughts and actions, and of whom I have only to complain for a little error in doctrine, and more than a little cant at least in lan- guage, which latter peculiarity is perpetually preventing the success of their religious appeals, at least to educated minds, and which is as great an obstacle to the first steps in religion as technical jargon to the first steps in science — let all serious Christians, I say, join, and found an order of women like the Sisters of Charity in Catholic countries ; let them be selected for good plain sense, kindness of disposition, indefatigable mdustry, and deep piety ; let them receive not a technical and scientific, but a practical medical education ; for this pur- pose, let them be placed both as nurses and pupils in the hos- pitals of Edinburgh or London, or in the county hospitals ; let their attention be pointed by the attending physician to the particular symptoms by which he distinguishes the disease ; let them be made as familiar with the best remedies, which arc always few, as they are with barlev- water, gruel, and beef-tea. Let them learn the rules by which these reme- dies are to be employed : let them be examined frequently on these subjects, in order to see tliat they carry these rules clearly in their heads ; let books be framed for them, con- taining the essential rides of practice, briefly, clearly, and untechnically written ; let such women, thus educated, be distributed among the country ])arishes of the kingdom, and be maintained by the parish allowance, which now goes to the parish surgeon, who should be resorted to only in di/Iicult cases ; let them be examined every half year by competent physicians about the state of their medical knowledge ; let this be done, and I fearlessly predict that my friend, and all those who are similarly situated, and zealous with himself, APPENDIX. 343 will no longer complain that their sick flock suffered from medical neglect. " It may be objected, that women with such an education would form a bad substitute for a scientific medical attendant. Be it remembered, however, that the choice is not between such women and a profound and perfect physician or surgeon, (if there is such a person,) but between such women and the ordinary run of country apothecaries ; the latter labouring under the additional disadvantage of wanting time for the ap- plication of what skill they have." Medical Attendance on the Country Poor. " Sir, " Tliose who live much in the country, at a distance from towns and cities, especially parish priests, charitable ladies, and that hard-working and useful class of medical men, who, in a worldly point of view, may be said to have the misfortune to have settled in these thinly-peopled districts, well know the deplorable medical attendance which the poor receive in sick- ness. Those who live in cities or large towns are generally near some hospital, infirmary, or dispensary, where they find as good medical attendance for nothing as those above them in society can procure for money — less ceremoniously admi- nistered, it is true, but in all essential respects as good. But what is the condition of the poor man, whose self, or whose family, is overtaken by sickness in the country ? He is at a distance from the surgeon of the neighbouring town — he is too poor to pay for advice from such a distance — he applies to the parish, and receives from the overseers an order for the attendance of the parish surgeon. What this attendanc,e is may be learnt, partly fi-om the way in which it is purchased, and partly from the experience of those who have witnessed it. Now, on these topics, the best sources of information are country clergymen and country surgeons ; and to such per- sons I turn with this remark, that 1 know enough from my own experience to bear out their statements. 344 APPENDIX. " In most instances the medical attendance oh a parish is farmed, that is, it is given to the surgeon who will do it on the lowest terms, with little or no regard to his skill, attention, or place of residence, which throw a probable light on the way in which he will fulfil his task. The terms of the con- tract are incredibly low — so low as not to api)roach remu- neration for his skill, time, trouble, and drugs, and conse- quently to aflbrd a constant temptation to a neglect of his duty. The contract is commonly at the rate of from thirty to fifty shillings a hundred for the whole popuhition of the parish, that is, at the rate of sixpence a head for the year. ' Many country surgeons contract with three, four, or even five pa- rishes. Parislies containing five or six hundred paupers have been taken for five or six pounds ; twenty or thirty parishes have been farmed by one practitioner, and even a large parish actually farmed for one guinea per annum *.' Those who have seen how this plan works, assert, in the strongest terms, that the result, as might have been expected, is disgraceful to the parish surgeon, and injurious to the poor ; and they relate, how sickness is often prolonged, and hfe lost from neglect. They agree, however, in stating, that notwithstanding this vile plan, the most respectable surgeons of a neighbourhood midertake the task far oftener than might have been expected ; but the secret is this — if they did not, some other person would, and this might lead to the introduction of a new rival into the neitihbourhood ; besides, attendance on the poor leads to attendance* on the middling and higher classes in the neighbour- hood, and the surgeon seldom goes on a parish journey but he picks up more than he expected. Let us follow liim on one of liis distant visits, and we shall soon understand the motive which induces him to accept these degrading terms. He receives an order from the overseer to visit a parisli jjatient : the time is winter — the weather bad — the roads ahnost im- passable, and the patient several miles off — nevertheless our rural Esculapius mounts his nag, envelops his throat in a hand- * Stc Report of a Committee for condiictin}; an IiKjuiry into the State of the Sick Poor. ^VarAvick, September, lb-7. APPENDIX. 345 kerchief, buttons his fear-nouglit close about his cliin, and, wrapping its skirts about his knees, off he sets through sleet and snow, along road and lane, over hill and common. Here he dismounts to open a gate — there his horse is knee-deep — crossing the common, he is nearly thrown in passing some snow- covered hole; but at length he arrives at the place of his destination, and, hanging the bridle on the rails, enters the brick-paved cottage of his pauper patient. I will not stop to inquire how he performs his task — I know enough of the in- dustry, the professional zeal, and tlie benevolent disposition of this meritorious class of my brethren, to feel assured that it is often performed far better than might have been expected. But for such a journey and back again, sixpence a-head for the whole parish, and the whole year, is hard work and poor pay : but a country surgeon is too important a person to pass incog, through the most solitary hamlet. The labouring man doffs his hat as he passes, the female cottager drops him a curtsy, and the little urchins stop their play to smile at ' the Doctor.' It is soon known far and wide that this important personage is within reach ; the farmer's wife engages him to attend her in her confinement ; the parson has a hoarse cough ; the publican is plethoric ; the wheelwright has cut his leg ; and the neighbouring squire is lain up with the gout. He is consulted about them all, and returns home heavy laden with orders for pills, draughts, blisters, plasters, and fomenta- tions. " Nevertheless he is constantly meeting with temptations to neglect liis parish duties, and is constantly neglecting them. Whenever he has messages from rich patients in one, and pauper patients in an opposite direction, and this is conti- nually occurring, it cannot happen otherwise than that the latter are neglected. And here I shall let ' the Country Clergyman * ' speak for me, one of the best parish priests in the land, and one who is minutely acquainted with the scenes he depicts. The following picture is not overcharged : — * A Letter to the Bishop of London on a Plan for admmistering Medi- cal Advice to the Sick Poor. 1 826, 346 APPENDIX. ' It may be as well if we look to the situation of a poor labourinpf or manufacturinij man, during the sickness of liim- self or his family, according to the jjresent state of things. He is taken ill at his labour with the symptoms of incipient fever; his nerveless limbs refuse the excitement to work, wliich, nevertheless, he continues for several days. Over- powered at length, he applies to the overseer, who gives him a note to the parish doctor; this he takes to the doctor's residence at tlie next town, five, six, seven, or possibly eight miles off. Here, if he is fortunate enough to meet with the doctor himself, he has some medicines given him, and he is told to go home and go to bed, and come back the next day. By the time the man arrives at his cottage, however, he is in no condition to obey the latter order if it should have been given, but instinctively complies with the former, whether o-iven or not. He lies in bed day after day till the doctor's assistant calls ; the result of the visit is, that the patient is desired to send to the doctor's for more medicine ; for this the wife must leave her husband's bed-side, if she has no child old enough to go for her, or can get no neighbour to undertake the journey. If the man's constitution be strong enough to carry him through his illness, nature does her work, and in spite of everything he recovers; but if his constitution be unable to struggle with the disease, he grows worse. Some- body tells the clergyman, who fnids the poor man in danger, and speaks to the doctor or the overseer, and then more atten- tion is paid — the doctor comes himself, but too late : and the man dies, or at best is brought, with difficulty, through a long course of debility, to a tardy and imperfect recovery.' " Such is the account given by a country clergyman who is miiuitcly acquainted with what is going on in the cottages of the poor, and well knows their sullerings and wants in sick- ness. There may be in it an unreasonable though natural dis- j)Osition to underrate the skill of the surgeon's assistant ; but this is certain, that the visits on the sick pauper are continually delayed, are ])aid as seldom as possible, and that, in numerous instances, <;!spwially in lubrilc and inllannnatory diseases, he has not the fair chance of benefit which our art (feeble, it is APPENDIX. 347 true, in many cases, but in many, also, all-powerful) is able to afford. " To supply the poor with medical attendance more ade- quate to their wants ; to relieve more speedily their suflFer- ings ; shorten their illnesses, and, in some instances, save their lives, two plans have been proposed which I shall proceed to describe. " In the year 18"23, some opulent and benevolent persons held a meeting at Southam, a small country town of Warwick- shire, near Stratford-upon-Avon, when Mr. Smith, a surgeon of the town, proposed the establishment of a dispensary for the sick poor of that neighbourhood. The funds for the sup- port of this dispensary were to be drawn from three sources — parochial contributions ; the subscriptions of opulent persons, and, lastly, voluntary subscriptions from the poor themselves. There would be two classes of patients, those who would have a claim on the dispensary from tlie subscriptions of their parish, and those whose claim would depend on their own sub- scriptions. The latter were to have the encouraging appella- tion of ' independent poor ; ' their annual subscription was to be 3s. 6d. for an adult, and 2s. for a child, and this would give them a right to medical attendance whenever they re- quired it. The medical attendants on this dispensary were to be all respectable surgeons of the neighbourhood, who were to take care of the sick poor of Southam and the surrounding country within six miles ; and for this the income of the dis- pensary, after paying its expenses, was to be divided among the surgeons, according to the number of miles travelled and visits made. Attendance was to be given at the dispensary one hour every day, excepting Sunday, when those patients who were able to go, received advice : these who were too ill to go out, were to be visited at their own houses. As they were no longer dependent on one surgeon, they were not likely to be neglected, for it was not probable that all would be busy, or out of the way at the same time. " The Southam Dispensary has now been in operation four years, and the result appears to be highly satisfactory to the members. It has been wholly maintained by parish subscri])- 348 APPENDIX. tions for the pauper patients, and by the voUnitary subscriptions of the independent poor, witliout any assistance liitherto from opulent persons. At a vestry meeting at Southam, in March of this year, it was resolved that, of two hundred persons amonu ihcikI contre la peste. ' La Hocielc n'cst-cUe pas etablie pour radoucissement du sort * des mallieureux mortel.s dc cette race, visiblcmcnt dc'gd- ILLUSTRATIONS. 373 ' neree, ct mise ici-bas comme dans ini lieu d'epreuves et * d'epuration ? '— torn. i. p. 206. 10. That part of the sclieme which relates to sending off de- formed subjects seems to have been taken from the History of the Severites, or Severambes, a poUtical romance written in the latter part of the 17th century. I know not who was the author. The first part was published in 1675, the second in 1679. The French edition (Amsterdam, 1702, in two vols.) does not profess to be a translation, and is moreover consi- derably altered and enlarged. It is more likely that the author should have thus treated his own work, than that a translator should have bestowed such supererogatory labour upon his task ; and therefore I am inclined to think that it may originally have been written in French. There is a want of moral and religious feeling in tlie book, but it is no ordi- nary work. Slavery. Vol.1, p. 71. Berkley has expressed his opinion in favour of slaver)'^ as a punishment. He asks in his Querist, 381, " Whether other nations have not found great benefit from the use of slaves in repairing higli roads, making rivers navigable, draining bogs, erecting public buildings, bridges, and manufactures ? 382. Whether temporary servitude will not be the best cure for idleness and beggary? 384. Whether all sturdy beggars should not be seized and made slaves to the public for a cer- tain term of years? 385. AVhether he who is chained in a gaol or dungeon hath not for the time lost his liberty? and if so, whether temporary slavery be not already admitted among us ?" But in this country there is no kind of labour, however hard, unwholesome, or disgusting, for which willing labourers may not be found. Feudal Slavery. Vol. I. p. 79. About forty years after the dissolution of Sallay Abbey, and 374 NOTES AND in the 22ncl year of Elizabeth's reign, the following petition was addressed — " To the Right Honourable George Earl of Cumberland. In most humble manner complaining, sheweth Your i)oor suppliants of the town of Feer Stayn- forth. " That whereas we and our ancestors have at all times here- tofore been under the rule of your Honour's ancestors in the time of service of the King or Queen's Majesty ; and foras- much as we are now tenants to one Edward Darcye, Esq., attending at the Court, who offereth to sell us, but holdeth it at so unreasonable a price as we are never able to pay : and for that we are in choice to purchase it ourselves, or to choose our landlord, so it is, Right Honourable, that we of one of our general assent are most heartily desirous that it would please your Honour to buy and purchase us, so as we might be wholly under your Honour's rule. And we will willingly give unto you towards the purchase all the goods that we have, moveable and immoveable, for good will, and the good report we hear of your Honour. " For truth is, Right Honourable, we have offered to give unto our master, for leases of twenty-one years, twenty years' fine ; or for the purchase threescore years' fine ; or otherwise all the goods we have ; and none of this will satisfy him. And now he takelh suit upon us, and meanelh to expulse us. And we are in number sevenscore people and above, and have no other living to go unto : so as, without your Honour's goodness, wc know no way what to do. " Your Honour's j)oor suppliants, " The Inhabitants of Freer Staynforth." I am almost induced to believe, says Dr. Whitaker, from the language of this petition, that some remains of personal slavery subsisted among these poor j)cople in the reign of Elizabdli. It is well known that this unhappy condition, though the subjects of it were treated with great gentleness, was Hufl'cred to continue among the tenants of the religious houses after it was abolished everywhere else. Whether there ILLUSTRATIONS. 375 are any instances of it upon their domains after the dissohition, I do not recollect ; but in this place, the terms, to sell, to buy, to purchase us, are scarcely capable of any other sense. The petition, however, had no effect, for George Earl of Cumberland was in circumstances which equally precluded him from doing a generous act, and accepting a good offer ; and it seems, after all, that either the tenants grew richer, or the lord reasonable, so as to enable them, according to their own expression, to buy themselves. — History of Craven, p. 136. TVe sacrifice too much to prudence. Vol. I. p. 83. " Si le respect humain empeche I'eclat de bien des d^sordres, ' il n' empeche pas moins la profession de bien des vertus. ' La bienseance veut qu'on se retire des grands vices ; elle ' defend qu'on embrasse les grandes vertus.' — La Bruyere, vol. iv. p. 37. Tenterden Steeple and Goodwin Sands. Vol. I. p. 85. Sir Thomas More tells the story thus, in the fourth book of his Dyaloge, fol. 145, edition 1530. " And nowe where they laye for a profe that God were not contented with batayle made agaynst infydelys, the loss and mynyshment of Crystendome synce that guyse began, they fare as dyd onys an old sage father fole in Kent, at suche tjTne as dyvers men of worshyppe assembled olde folke of the countre, to commune and devyse about the amendement of Sandwyche haven. At whyche tyme as they began fyrst to enserche by reason, and by the report of olde menne there about, what thynge had bene the occasyon that so good an haven was in so few yerys so sore decayed, and such sandys rysen, and such shalow flattys made therewith, that ryght small vessels had now moche worke to come in at dyvers tydys, where great shyppys were, wythin fewe yerys passed, accus- tumed to ryde wythout dyff^cultyc, and some layinge the faute 376 NOTES AND to Goodwyn Sandys, some to the landys inned by dyvers owners in the lie of Tenate out of the chanell, in whyche the so was wont to conipace the ilc, and brynge the vessels rounde about it, whose course at the ebbe was wont to scoure the liavcn, whiclie now tiie see excluded thense, for lacke of such course and scourynge is choked up with sande : as they thus alleged, dyvers men dyvers causes, there starte up one good olde father, and sayd, ' Ye maysters saye every manne what lie wyll, cha marked this matter well as some other. And by God, I wote howc it waxed nought well ynoughe ; for I knewe it good, and have marked, so chave, when it began to waxe worse.' ' And what hath hurte it, good father V quod the gcntyllmcn. ' By my foylhe, maysters,' quod he, ' yonder same Tentorden ste])ell, and nothing ellys, that by the masse choldc 'twere a fayrc sysshe i)olc.' ' Why hath the stcpell hurle the haven, good father V quod they. ' Naye, byr Lady, maysters,' quod he, ' yah can not tell you well why, but chote well it hath. I'or by God, I knewe it a good haven tyll that stepell was bylded; and by the Mary masse, cha marked it well, it never throve synce.' " It is worth while to annex Latimer's version of the story, not merely as a specimen of his peculiar manner, but as an example of the rajiid improvement which the English language had undergone in one generation. " But here is now an argument to prove the matter against the preachers. Here was jncaching against covetousness all the last yeare in Lent, and the next sommer followed rebellion: ergo preaching against covetousness was the cause of the rebellion. A goodly argument! Here was, I remember, an argument of Maister M ore's, which he bringeth in a booke that he made against Uilney : and here, by the way, T will tell you a mery toy. Maister More was once sent in commission into Kent, to help to trie out (if it might be) what was the cause of Goodwin Sandes, and the shells that stopjjcd up Sand- wich haven. Thether commeth Maister More, and calletli the counlrye afore liini, sudi as were thought to be men of cx]KTicnc(', and men thai ( ould of likeliliode best certify him of thai matter, concerning the bloi)}»ing of Sandwicji h^ivcn, ILLUSTRATIONS. 377 Among others came in before him an olde man with a wliite head, and one that was thought to be litle lesse than an hun- dereth yeares olde. When Maister More saw this aged man, he tliought it expedient to heare him say his minde in this matter, for being so olde a man it was likely that he knew most of any man in that presence and company. So Maister More called this olde aged man unto him, and sayd, ' Father,' sayd he, ' tell me if ye can, what is the cause of this great arising of the sande and shelves here about this haven, the which stop it up that no shippes can arive here ? Ye are the oldest man that I can espie in all this companye, so that if any man can tell any cause of it, ye of likelihode can say most in it, or at least wise more than any other man here assembled.' ' Yea forsooth, good maister,' quod this olde man, ' for I am well nigh an hundreth yeares olde, and no man here in this company anything neare unto mine age.' ' Well, then,' quod Maister More, ' how say you in this matter ? What thinke ye to be the cause of these shelves and flattes that stoppe up Sandwiche haven V ' Forsooth, Syr,' quoth he, ' I am an olde man : I thinke that Tenterton steeple is the cause of Goodwin Sandes. For I am an olde man, Syr,' quod he, ' and I may remember the building of Tenterton steeple, and I may re- member when there was no steeple at all there. And before that Tenterton steeple was in building, there was no maner of speaking of any flats or sands that stopped the haven ; and therefore I thinke that Tenterton steeple is the cause of the destroying and decaying of Sandwich haven.' . . . And even so, to my purpose, is preaching of God's worde the cause of rebellion, as Tenterton steeple is a cause that Sandwich haven is decayed." — Latimer's Sermons, fol. 109, edition 1575. Large households of retainers, liable to be cast off. Vol. I. p. 97. " It is as usual," says Fuller, " to see a young serving man an old beggar, as to see a light horse first from the great saddle of a nobleman to come to the hackney-coach, and at last die in drawing a car." — Holy Slate, p. 16. 378 NOTES AND Possibly this passage may have suggested to Dibdin his song of" The high-meltled race-horse,". . . which ought to be printed in every spelling-book, and learnt by heart in every nursery. Edward VI. Vol. I. p. 101. " Some foreign writers have observed, that the hope of this land while he lived, Edward the Sixth, did die upon the self- same day (after revolution of some years) in which his father had put Sir Thomas More to death ; a man otherwise faulty, yet so true a pattern of moral justice, as it cannot seem strange, if the righteous Judge did take special notice of King Henry's dealing with him, and insert the day of his death in his everlasting kalendar, to be after signed with the untimely death of King Henry's only son." — Jackson, vol. ii. p. 275. Assuredly the sincere good-will will be accepted for the deed. Vol, I. p. 103. " Verum ego" (ait apud Curtium Rex Macedo) " qui non annos meos, sed victorias numero, si munera fortunoe bene comi)Ulo, diu vixi." Quanio veriiis is, qui vitam siiam omtiem Dc'u consccrat, suoque solu7n Domino placere siudet et servire, fidenicr dical — " Ego, qui non annos meos, quibus Deo servio, sed desideria mea numero, si bcneficia Domini mei bene computo, diu vixi." " Sic est profccl5 : Centum, imo millc annos, imo saecula ' vivit, et Deo servit, quisquis ex animo vereque cupit centenis ' vel millenis annis, aut multis sa3culis Deo servire, si vivere ' tot annis liceret. Nam apud Deum voluntas pro facto sumi- ' tur, apud quem serio voluisse facere, sffipe tantumdem est, ' quantum fecisse." — Drexelius, ^ternitatis Prod. torn. i. p. 41. ILLUSTRATIONS. 379 It is an observation ofMercier's, that despotism loves large cities ;.. . insubordination and anarchy like them quite as well. Vol. I. p. 107. Hobbes says, alluding to the part taken by London in the Great Rebellion, " there can hardly arise a long or dangerous rebellion, that lias not some such overgrown city with an army or two in its belly to foment it." — (^Behemoth, p. 549 of his Moral and Political Works.) A preacher, who lived long enough to perceive the errors of his early course, to choose the better part, and to leave behind him a good and honourable name, speaks thus, in one of his Sermons before the House of Commons, of the service which London rendered to the Parliamentary cause : — " London, the mirror of wonder, of love, zeal, constancy, and bounty to you and your cause : London, the ark that hath kept you safe in this deluge of blood that hath overflowed the nation : London, your Ophir and India that supplied you with masses of money and plate in all your wants : London, your bank and stock of honours and hearts : London, yours so much that you had not been what you are, if it had not been for London : London, that, under a parliament, hath preserved a nation ; and London, that, under God, hath preserved a parliament ; . . Was it ever seen, or could it ever be related, that any city under heaven ever did as London hath done, in love and kmdness to your cause and you ?" — Lighffoot, vol. vi. p. 120. You might have seen me derive instruction while I was giving it. Vol. 1. p. 125. The same thought is prettily expressed by Hurdis in his Tragedy of " Sir Thomas More." Sir Thomas. And what have you conversed of? Cecilia. Nothing, Sir, Worth your attention. 380 NOTES AND Sir Thomas. But perhaps it was. I love to licarken to the simple cliat Of prattling infants. From the lip of youth I draw a sweeter pleasure to remark How reason dawns toward her perfect day, How jiassion kindles and impels the soul To all the useful purposes of life. Children. Vol.1, p. 126. •' Little children," said Luther, " stand on the best terms with God. We old doting fools torment ourselves, and have sorrow of heart with our disputings touching the Word, whether it be true or not. But children with simple, pure faith, hold it without all doubting. Now, if we would be saved, we must, like them, give ourselves to the Word. But the wicked and crafty Spirit, before we be aware, can cunningly draw us from it, by ])resenting new dealings and business to keep us in action. Therefore best it were for us early to die, and to be covered over with the spade. " Loving children live innocently, and know of no sins : they arc without malice, wrath, covetousness, unbelief, &c. : what they hear concerning Christ and the life to come, they believe simjjly and plainly, and ])rattle joyfully thereof. From whence Christ speaketh unto us old ones earnestly to follow their example, when lie saith, ' whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of Cod as a little child, shall in no wise enter therein.' For children believe aright, and Christ loveth them with their childish sports. On the contrary, he is an enemy to the wisdom of the world." — CoUvquia Mensalia, p. 200. John Fox, and the sight of a slaughter-house. Vol. I. p. 129. The passage alluded to is in a letter written by this excel- lent man to Queen Elizabeth, interceding, unhai)pily without ILLUSTRATIONS. 381 effect ! for ten poor Anabaptists, who were condemned to the flames, by tlie yet unrepealed laws which had been enacted under the Romish clergy. He says, " Ac neque hominum ' soliim, utinam et pecudibus ipsis opitulari possum. Ita enim ' cum (stulte fortassis luec de meipso, at ver> dice) macellum ' ipsum ubi mactantur etiam pecudes, vix pnetereo, quin tacito ' quodam doloris sensu mens refugiat." There is a beautiful passage upon this subject in a late ser mon by Mr. "Woodward, which the reader who lias not seen it, may thank me for here presenting to his notice. " Here we live in the very region of death. The whole creation, irrational as well as rational, groaneth and travaileth in pain together, under the iron sceptre of this king of terrors. And surely, if life in every other respect yielded the purest happiness, it would be some abatement of it, to see the inferior animals all around, silently submissive to that curse which our sins have brought down upon them. Nor is it possible to survey the cattle upon a thousand liills, the sheep that orna- ment our fields, innocent, defenceless, and unsuspecting, with- out some feeling for that allotment by which they will all be summoned from their pleasant pastures, to die by the hand of slaughter. Into this mysterious arrangement I do not pre- sume to enter fully ; nor would I take upon me, with a late truly excellent minister of the gospel, to lay down as a posi- tive doctrine (cheering as the prospect may be) tliat these animals will rise aoain to a new and blessed life. But this I will say, because the Scripture says it, that the meanest of such creatures is the care of Heaven ; that God fecdeth the young ravens that call upon him ; that not even a sparrow falleth to the ground without our Heavenly Father. In these hands we should be satisfied to leave tliem ; assured that they wnll be considerately and mercifully dealt with. One thing, however, is clear, that while they are the objects of such care, it is a more serious thing than some imagine to trifle with their pains, to make their miseries our sport, or to put them to one moment's needless suflering. These sentiments, I am well aware, will pass with many for unmanly, childish weak- ijess : but alas ! do we consider how much of that high mettle, 382 NOTES AND which we call manliness, must come down ? Do we remem- ber that we must become as little children, if we would enter into the kingdom of Heaven ? In that world, then, of angelic innocence, of divine simplicity, tenderness and love, where he, who was himself once led as a lamb to the slaughter, sitteth upon the throne — it will, I say, be a part of its blessedness, to feel assured that no creatures are doomed to suffer for our use : to look around, perhaps, and see various orders of happy beings, who range its everlasting hills, and rejoice in security on every side ; to see its vallies smile with flocks, against which no hand of violence shall be raised, and which shall re- pose upon their pastures during the days of an endless life.'' — Irish Pulpit, 1827, p. 20. There is a miracle related of St. Columba, which is in a better spirit than is often found in monkish miracles. St- Adamnan records it, and the Irish Friar, whose abridgement of tlie life was published at St. Omer's, (with the lives of St. Patrick and St. Bridget, 1625,) supposes" none will be so impudent as to deny what hath been delivered from so holy and innocuous a pen." But this Friar having, like most abridgement-makers, a happy tact for omitting what is most worthy of notice, has not inserted the story which follows it. " One day a certain brother, by name Molua, the grandson of Briun, came to the Saint when he was writing, and said to liim, ' Bless, I pray thee, this iron which I have in my hand.' He stretching out liis hand with the reed in it, signed and blessed it, his face still being turned toward the book whence lie was writing. But as the brother was departing, the Saint asked of another what it was that he had blessed. Diermid, his pious attendant, made answer, ' Thou hast blessed a knife whidi is to cuttlK; throats of the cattle.' Then said the Saint, ' I trust in the Lord that the iron which I have blessed shall never hurt either man or beast.' In the same day what the Saint thus said was aj)proved. For when the brother, going out of the monastery, attempted to kill an ox, three times he tried with all his strength, and was not able to pierce the skin. The monks, understanding this, took the knife, and heated the blade and beat it out, and put part of the metal ILLUSTRATIONS. 383 upon all the iron instruments in tlie monastery. Nor from that time forward could they inflict a wound upon any flesh, the blessing of the Saint remaining in its strength." — Acta SS. Jun. tom. ii. p. 320, From a diff'erent version of this story in another life, Baert, the BoUandist, argues, " ea solummodo ferramenta sic illita ' fuisse, quae aliis usibus destinata, fortuitum poterant vulnus ' facere : quis enim non videt inconsultum fuisse, ut nullum ' esset in monasterio ferrum, quo cutis cujusquam perstringi ' posset, ad usum valetudinarii vel macelli ? " — p. 224. It is edifying to observe the gravity with which such legends are treated by such men ! Butchers. Vol. I. p. 129. A representation from the Butchers in the difl'erent king- doms and provinces of Spain, was presented to the Cortes in 1811, to show that they were comprehended in a certain ordi- nance of March 8, 1783, and consequently free from the note of infamy which was placed upon them, being equal in rights to other honourable subjects and honest men, and conse- quently capable of holding offices in the service of the com- monwealth, and of serving in the army and navy. They prayed, therefore, that that part of the Ordonnance of 1 800 which prejudiced them, might be abrogated. Copies of an essay were presented at the same time to prove " que el oficio de cortador dc carnes es una ocupacion honesta que no in- fama d sus operarios." The matter was referred to the Com- mission of Legislation, one of the members observing that it was a subject which deserved the attention of the Cortes; that in this point the laws required alteration, and that it was expe- dient to do away with stigmas of this kind, which depended wholly upon prejudice, and rendered infamous many employ- ments which were useful to society. — Diario de las Cortes, t. iv. p. 152. 384 NOTES AND . . . An intolerant and bitter -minded hir,Tuy wiftivecs, k») ^X'oya i^ri-^t fttyaXnv durixa Je ri vixro; liah^f/,aivofiiv» xa) 400 NOTES AND avuKaxXilXivrt); arfio; I'Trioro -ToXu; tea) auppirr'iZ.im rapf^l; ri xa) 'ri'Tvxvufityos- ovK 'ix"* ^^ ''^^ iiaxudtx, i'r't to); uuXo); avl^'Xi nai tS ffrtvorrtri •prii^ofiivos, fiiaioripov avt^ifi'Ttro, tea; tt, ffriyyi ir^oirVTCciu)! itliXiXi^reiTK, ido\)r,inva,va.ffa,v xxl^iiffiiiriy'ofov vvorpi/niv rioifiit kcci ^larBr^iyfiUai ra %uXx,L o\ af/.(pi tov Z»vo»a iruodTTovTO xx'i i^iifictivov xcc) a/^(p) rhv Xsaipi^iv i^iviTro)i ■mrviuf/.iioi xai (ioavri;, xa) r* luvii xaTecTi-rXtiyf4.Uoi.' — Agathias. Parisiis, 1660. lib. v. p. 150. Pope Silvesfer''s Steam-Organ. Vol. I. p. 201. ' . . . fecit arte mechanica liorologium, et organa idraulica, ' ubi mirum in modum, per aquie calefacta^ violentiam implet ' ventus emergens concavitatem barbati, et per multiforaliles ' tractus, ccreye fistulaj modulatos clamores emittunt.' — Fjaj- centius Dclvaccnsis, lib. xxiv. c. 98. It was at Rheims, according to Vincentius, that this organ was made ; and though tlie account wliich he gives of Silvester is mere romance, this statement may be admitted. The same passage is given by Du Cange from WiUiam of Malmesbury. Baronias makes no mention of it; he liked Silvester too little to record any thing in his praise, tliougli he acquits him from the charge of having dealt with tlie Devil to obtain the Pa- pacy. Silvester obtained it from the Emperor, which, in Ba- ronius's opinion, was as bad, or, perhaps, worse. Amatory Shoe-printing. Vol.1, p. 202. I learn this from one of Vicyra's Sermons, wliere the fact is thus stated on the authority of Clemens Alexandrinus. ' Conta Clemente Alexaiulrino, que era fineza naquelle • tempo usada dos cspiritos mais generosos, et que mais se ' prezavam de amar, trazer entalhadas nas solas do cal^ado as ' ten(;oens, ou saudacjoens do seu amor, para que em qualquer • parte onde fixasseni os i)assos, ficasse impresso e cstampado • ])or modo de sinete o quanto e a quern amavani : soleis ' quoque ainatorias sakitationes impiiniunt, ut vtl per terram ' numcrosi incedentes, amatorios spiritus in incessu inscul- ' pant.' — Tom. ix. p. 15. ILLUSTRATIONS. 401 Vieyra supposes the sole to have been cut like a seal. The Latin interpreter, whose words he gives, seems rather to ex- press that the letters were raised, and consequently stamped, that is, imprinted in the ground. Johannes de Rupescissa. Vol. I. p. 204.; ' Remedium contra tiraorem et inconstantiam ac destruc- * tionem cordis, et amissionem fortitudinis, et magisterium ad ' reparandum audaciam, fortitudinem, et virtutem.' Cap. VIII. ' Non dixi tibi in vanum, quod nee intellectus potest capere, nee nostra lingua narrare, miraculosas virtutes quas creavit Deus quinta Essentia : et non solum in ea, sed etiam in ejus matre, scilicet aqua ardente. Recipe ergo paeoniam et herbam (vel radiceni) angelicam, quae aliter dicitur angelaria, et crocum, et quintam Essentiam auri et perlarum, et misce cum quinta Essentia : nam subito quasi miraculose, si homo, qui nimio terrore correjitus est, heec sumpserit, timorem amittet, fortitudinem ex timore perditam recuperabit, auda- ciam assumet, mortem contemnet, in periculis non pavescet, supra modum efficietur audax, ita ut appareat hominibus quod sit muros ferreos penetrare paratus. Experto crede, quia pro certo verum et certum dico experimentum probatum : ideo est cautela, ut princeps popvdi Christiani in ordine bel- lorum habeat sic in doliis aquam ardentem paratam, ut cuili- bet pugili tribuat medium scyphum, vel cii'ca, in principio bellicosi contjressus, et debet hoc arcanum omnibus inimicis Ecclesiae occultari, immo, nee principes, nee alii ministran- tes debent hoc alicui revelare.' Ambitious views of the French. Vol. I. p. 231. The first sentence of M. Targe's Histoire de I'Aveneinent de la Maison de Bourbon an Trone de I'Espagne, is a noticeable VOL. II. 2 D 402 NOTES AND one : ' La monarchie Fran9oise paroissoit 6tre parvenue au ' comble de sa grandeur d la fin du dix-septieme siecle : il ne ' manquoit plus h la gloire de I'auguste maison de Bourbon, ' que d'etendre sa domination sur des monarchies t5trangeres.' Scovgnl used to say that, abstracted from the will of God, mere curiosity would make him long for another world. Vol. I. p. 243. The anonymous Puritanical poet has expressed this feeling with true passion. " Did not I fear thee, Lord ! The world hath not the cord Could bind this strong desire From what it doth require ! 'I* fie 'Iv if^ Oh were I not so free. Or had more liberty." — p. 189. " Oh could I keep me in this option, I Would wish to live, because I wish to die. How like a little God I would converse With men, let down awhile here to rehearse Those joys above, till I had drawn up more, Harbour'd their hearts upon thy haven's shore. He only lives, who enthron'd in 's mansion, can Yet condescend to sojourn with, for man. * ♦ 'T' 3r ^ Oh how I strive, I wrestle to be rid Of half myself stands in its own light ! But bid Tiiou dost my stay, and I'll obey, Till Thou shalt call, who art my all." — p. 193. ILLUSTRATIONS. 403 Graves, when they have been opened, have let abroad the infection which for generations they had covered. Vol. I. p. 250. An epidemic fever in the county of Mearns, wliich in the year 1781 raged about Montrose, was supposed to have arisen from the indiscretion of some country people, who, for some unexplained reason, opened the graves of those who died of the plague in the preceding century, and had been buried in the Moss of Arnhall. Small pox, I believe, has in several cases been thus com- municated. The infection might be retained as long as the hair lasts. A more extraordinary case is noticed in Dr. Franklin's Works (vol. vi. p. 300) as having occurred in London about 1763. Several medical men, who assisted at the dissection of a mummy, died of a malignant fever, which it was supposed they caught from the dried and spiced Egyptian. Infidelity and Popery. Vol. I. p. 260. Berkeley's Euphranor, when arguing against the Minute Philosophers, says to them, " Suppose you should prevail and destroy tliis Protestant Church and Clergy ; how could you come at the Popish ? I am credibly informed there is a great number of emissaries of the Church of Rome disguised in England : who can tell what harvest a Clergy so numerous, so subtle, and so well furnished with arguments to work on vulgar and uneducated minds, may be able to make in a country despoiled of all religion, and feeling the want of it ? Who can tell whether the spirit of free-thinking ending with the opposition, and the vanity with the distinction, wlien the whole nation are alike infidels, — who can tell, I say, whether in such a juncture the men of genius themselves may not affect a new distinction, and be the first converts to Popery ?" Lys. " And suppose they should . . . Between friends it would 2 D 3 404 NOTES AND be no gi'cat matter. These are our maxims: in the first place we hold it would be best to have no religion at all : secondly, we hoUl that all religions are indifferent. If there- fore, upon trial, we find the country cannot do without a reli- gion, why not Popery as well as another? I know several ingenious men of our sect who, if we had a Popish Prince on the throne, would turn Papists to-morrow? This is a paradox, but I shall explain it. A Prince whom we compliment with our religion must be grateful." Eupii. " I imderstand you. But what becomes of free-thinking all the while ? " Lys. " Oh ! we should have more than ever of that, for we should keep it all to ourselves. As for the amusement of retailing it, the want of this would be largely compensated by solid advan- tages of another kind." Euph. " It seems, then, by this account, the tendency you observed in the nation towards something great and new, proves a tendency towards Popery and Slavery." Lys. "Mistake us not, good Euphranor. The thing first in our intention is consummate liberty. But if this will not do, and there must after all be such things tolerated as religion and government, we are wisely willing to make the best of both." Cri. "Tin's j)uts me in mind of a thougbt I have often had. The Minute Piiilosophers arc dupes of the Jesuits." — Berkeley s Akqjhron, vol. i. p. 147. Bishop Bedell. Vol. I. p. 271. The following extract from Burnett's Life of this excellent man has a peculiar value at this time. " He observed with much regret that the Englinh had all along neglected the Jris/i, as a nation not only conquered but uudiscijjlinal)le, and that the clergy had scarce considered llicm as a part of their charge, but had left them wholly into the hands of their own priests, without taking any other care of them but the making them pay their tithes. And, indeed, their ])ri('Hts were a strange sort of peo])l(\ tliat knew generally nothing but the reading their ofhces, which were not so much ILLUSTRATIONS. 405 as understood by many of them : and they taught the people nothing but the saying their Paters and Aves in Latin : so that the state both of the clergy and laity was such that it could not but raise great compassion in a man that had so tender a sense of the value of those souls that Christ had purchased with his blood ; therefore he resolved to set about that Apos- tolical work of converting the natives with the zeal and care that so great an undertaking required. He knew the gaining on some of the more knowing of their priests was like to be the quickest way, for by their means he hoped to spread the knowledge of the reformed religion among the natives, or rather of the Christian religion, to speak more strictly. For they had no sort of notion of Christianity, but only knew that they were to depend upon their priests, and were to confess such of their actions as they call sins to them, and were to pay them tithes. The Bishop prevailed on several priests to change, and he was so well satisfied with the truth of their conversion, that he provided some of them ecclesiastical bene- fices, which was thought a strange thing, and was censured by many, as contrary to the interest of the English nation. For it now was believed that all those Irish converts were still papists at heart, and might be so much the more dangerous than otherwise by that disguise which they had put on. But he, on the other hand, considered chiefly the duty of a Christian Bishop ; he also thought the true interest of Eng- land v.as to gain the Irish to the knowledge of religion, and to bring them by the means of that, which only turns the heart, to love the English nation. And so he judged the wis- dom of that course was apparent, as well as the piety of it. Since such as changed their religion would become thereby so odious to their own clergy, that this would provoke them to further degrees of zeal in gaining others to come over after them. And he took great care to work in those whom he trusted with the care of souls, a full conviction of the truth of religion, and a deep sense of the importance of it. And in this he was so happy, that of all the converts that he had raised to benefices, there was but one only that fell back when the rebellion broke out ; and he not only apostatized, but both 406 NOTES AND plundered and killed the English among the first. But no wonder if one murderer was among our Bishop's converts, since there was a traitor among the twelve that followed our Saviour. There was a convent of friars very near him, on whom he took much pains, with very good success. That he niif^ht furnish his converts with the means of instructing others, he made a short catechism to he printed in one sheet, being English on the one page, and Irish on the other ; which contained the elements and most necessary things of the Christian religion, together with some forms of prayer, and some of the most instructing and edifying passages of Scrip- ture. This he sent about all over his diocese, and it was re- ceived with great joy by many of the Imh, who seemed to be hungering and thirsting after righteousness, and received this beginning of knowledge so well, that it gave a good encou- raacment to hope well upon further endeavours. The Bishop did also set himself to learn the Irish tongue ; and though it was too late for a man of his years to learn to speak it, yet he came to understand it to such a degree as to compose a com- plete grammar of it, (which was the first that ever was made, as I have been told,) and to be a critic in it : he also had Common Prayer read in Irish every Sunday in his cathedral for the benefit of the converts he had made, and was always present at it himself; and he engaged all his clergy to set up schools in their parishes ; for there were so very few bred to read or write, tliat this obstructed the conversion of the nation very much. The New Testament and the Book of Common Prayer were already put in the Irish tongue ; but he resolved to have the whole Bible, the Old Testament, as well as the New, put also into the hands of the Irish ; and therefore he laboured much to find out one that understood the language Bo well that he might be employed in so sacred a work. And by the advice of the Primate, and several other eminent per- sons, he pitched on one King, that had been converted many years before, and was believed to be the elegantcst writer of the Irish tongue then alive, both for prose and poetry. He was tiif-n uhout seventy ; but notwithstanding his age and the disadvantages of his education, yet the Bishop thought him ILLUSTRATIONS. 407 not only capable of this employment, but qualified for an higher character ; therefore he put him in orders, and gave him a benefice in his diocese, and set him to work, in order to the translating the Bible, which he was to do from the Ejig- lish translation, since there were none of the nation to be found that knew anything of the originals. The Bishop set himself so much to the revising of this work, that always after dinner or supper he read over a chapter ; and as he compared the Irish translation with the English, so he compared the English with the Hebrew and the seventy interpreters, or with Dio- datt's Italian translation, which he valued highly ; and he corrected the Irish where he found the English translation had failed. He thought the use of the Scriptures was the only way to let the knowledge of religion in among the Irish, as it had first let the Reformation into the other parts of Europe. And he used to tell a passage of a sermon that he heard Ful- geniio preach at Venice, with which he was much pleased. It was on these words of Christ : Have ye not read ? and so he took occasion to tell the auditory, that if Christ were now to ask tliis question. Have ye not read ? all the answer they could make to it was, No : for they were not suffered to do it. Upon which he taxed with great zeal the restraint put on the use of the Scriptures by the see of Rome. This was not un- like what the same person delivered in another sermon, preaching upon Pilate % question. What is Tnith ? He told them, at last, after many searches, he had found it out, and held out a New Testament, and said, There it was in his hand ; but then he put it in his pocket, and said coldly, But the book is prohibited; which was so suited to the Italian genius, that it took mightily with the auditory. The Bishop had observed, that in the primitive times, as soon as nations, how barbarous soever they were, began to receive the Christian religion, they had the Scriptures translated into their vulgar tongues ; and that all people were exhorted to study them : therefore he not only undertook and began this work, but followed it with so much industry, that in a very few years he finished the translation and resolved to set about the printing of it, for the bargain was made with one that engaged to per- 408 NOTES AND form it. And as he had been at tlie great trouble of examining the translation, so lie resolved to run the venture of the im- pression, and took that expense upon himself Queen EUxaheth and Moiintjoy. Vol. I. p. 274. Queen Elizabeth writes thus to Mountjoy in 1603, when that noble-minded person (one of the best and wisest men in an illustrious age) would, if means had been afforded him, have laid the sure foundation of good government in Ireland : " Because AVe know your affection is so well mixed with un- derstanding of the state We stand in both here and there, as you can well consider of what importance it is to TJs to ease our kingdom of those great or rather infinite charges which we have thus long sustained, which still continuing in that height, would take away the true feeling of our victories. We have thought good to deliver you Our pleasure in that behalf; for it were almost as good for us to lack a great part of their reduction, as to be driven to that charge in keeping them, which our crown of England cannot endure, without the ex- treme diminution of the greatness and felicity thereof, and alienation of Our people's mind from Us, considering that for these only rebellions in Ireland, We have been forced to part with many of Our ancient possessions, which are part of Our flowers of Our Crown, and to draw from our subjects (a thing contrary to Our nature) those great payments, which (but for the hope they had that tl)is same should serve to work their future ease and respiration) they would not so willingly have borne, nor We so justly could have imposed u])()n them." And she then gives directions for reduction and retrenchment. " If it had pleased her Majesty," says Mountjoy, " to have longer continued her army in greater strength, I should the better have provided for what these clouds do threaten, and sooner and more easily either have made this country a rased taljjc, whereon she might have written her own laws, or have tier! tilt; ill-disi)osed and rebellious hands till 1 had surely planted such a government as would have overgrown and killed ILLUSTRATIONS. 409 any weeds that should have risen under it." — Fynes Moryson, Part ii. pp. 245—268. Ireland and the Jews. Vol. I. p. 277. Harrington's scheme for establishing the Jews in Ireland is thus stated in his Introduction to the Oceana. " Panopea, the soft mother of a slothful and jjusillanimous people, is a neighbour island, anciently subjected by the arms of Oceana ; since almost depopulated for shaking the yoke, and at length replenished with a new race. But (through what virtues of tlie soil or vice of the air soever it be) they come still to degenerate. Wherefore, seeing it is neither likely to yield men fit for arms, nor necessary it should, it had been the interest of Oceana so to have disposed of this province, being both rich in the nature of the soil, and full of commo- dious ports for trade, that it might have been ordered for the best in relation to her purse ; which, in my opinion, (if it had been thought upon in time,) might have been best done by planting it with Jews, allowing them their own rites and laws ; for that would have brought them suddenly from all parts of the world, and in sufficient numbers. And though the Jews be now altogether for merchandise, yet in the land of Canaan (except since their exile, from whence they have not been land- lords,) they were altogether for agriculture ; and there is no cause why a man should doubt, but having a fruitful country, and excellent ports too, they would be good at both. Pano- pea, well peopled, would be worth a matter of four millions dry rents : that is besides the advantage of the agriculturer's trade, which, with a nation of that industry, comes at least to as much more : wherefore, Panopea being farmed out to the Jews and their heirs for ever, for the pay of a provincial army to protect them during the term of seven years, and for two millions annual revenue from that time forward, besides the customs, which would pay the provincial army, would have been a bargain of such advantage both to them and this com- 410 NOTES AND monwealth, as is not to be found otherwise by either. To receive the Jews after any other manner into a commonwealth, were to maim it ; for they of all nations never incorporate, but takiii"- up the room of a limb, are of no use or office to the bodv, while they suck tlie nourishment which would sustain a natural and useful member." Our Ancestors knew this. Vol. I. p. 284. " In all councils and conferences," said the Lord Keeper, Sir Nicholas Bacon, addressing the House of Peers in Queen Elizabeth's name,. . " in all councils and conferences, first and chiefly there should be sought the advancement of God's honour and glory, as the sure and infallible foundation where- upon the policy of every good public weal is to be erected and built ; and as the straight line whereby it is principally to be directed and governed, and as the chief pillar and buttress wherewith it is continually to be sustained and maintained." Desire of Death. Vol. I. p. 243, " Albeit the glass of my years," says Sir George Mackenzie, " hath not yet turned five-and-twenty, yet the curiosity I have to know the difl'erent limbos of departed souls, and to view the card of the region of Death, would give me abundance of courage to encounter this King of Terrors, though I were a Pagan. 13ut when I consider what joys are prepared for them who fear the Almighty, and what craziness attends such as sleep in Methusalem's cradle, I pity them who make long life one of the oftest repeated petitions of their Pater Noster." — The Virtuoso, or Stoic. Moral Essays, p. 81. ILLUSTRATIONS. 411 St. Kenfigern. Vol. I. p. 307. It appears, from the brief notice of this saint in that valu- able little volume, the Cambrian Biography, that the fables concerning Kentigern were not current in Wales. " Cyndeyrn Garthwys, son of Owain ab Urien, or Kentigern, one of the most distinguished British saints, to whom several churches are dedicated. He lived about the middle of the sixth century. The Triads record that he was Chief Bishop, or Primate of the Northern Britons under Gwrthmwl, who was chief elder, under the sovereignty of Arthur ; and that his see was at Penryn Rliionydd, a place situated probably in the neighbour- hood of Glasgow. He seems to have had the ecclesiastical epithet of Mvvyngu or Urbanus ; hence he is called St. Mungo, in old authors." There is a life of St. Kentigern among the Cotton MSS. (Vitellius, c. viii. 12.) by which it appears that he was also called Inglaschu. o Punishment of death for incontinence said, in the Legend of St. Kentigern, to have been established among the Picts. Vol. I. p. 309. The Jesuit F. Alford has a remark upon this subject, which is equally worthy of his sagacity and his candour, . . of his sagacity in arguing from this part of the fable as if it were an historical fact, of his candour in the description which lie gives of British morals after the Reformation. ' Vide Lector, (he ' says,) inter barbaros et infideles castissimam legem matri- ' moniis faventem : et puta falli eos, qui vel communes uxores, ' vel promiscuos amplexus, huic Insulye affinxerunt. Si enim * Britannorum incultissimi, ad montes et Septentrionem positi, ' quique ad civilitatem componi nunquam potuerunt, adeo * modesti fuerunt ; id multo rectius de Australibus sentiendum. 412 NOTES AND ' Ut Saxo etiam matrimonia sancte coluerit, dixi supra. Sic ' omni stcculo a castitatis laude commendavi meruit Insula, ' donee nova lex, e duplici divortio uxoris Fideique nata, per- ♦ misit omni ordiui, instituto, sexui, prae Graecia lascivire.' — Annalcs Ecc. Anglo-Saxonicce, t. ii. p. 20. * Men and brethren, why marvel ye ?' Vol. I. p. 318. ' Viri fratres, quid admiramini, aspicientes verbum hoc ? * Credite milii, antcquam homo inobediens suo Conditori exis- ' tcret, non solum animalia, sed etiam cleraenta obtemperabant • illi. Nunc vero ob ipsius pryevaricationem onniibus in adversa ' versis, leo lacerave, lupus devorare, serpens sauciare, aqua * submergere, ignis comburere, aer corrumpere, terra saepe ♦ ferrea effecta fame subrucre consuevit ; et ad cumulum con- ♦ sueti mali, homo non solum hominem sed ipse homo in seipso ' ])ccc:mdo contra seipsum sponte desyevit. Sed quoniam ' pleriquc sancti in vera innocentia, et pura obcdientia, in ' sanctitate, dilcctione, fide et justitia coram Domino perfecti ' invcnti sunt, quasi antiquum jus et naturale dominium a ' Domino recuperant, dum bestiis ct dementis, morbis et mor- ' tibus imperare solcnt.* — Acta Sanctonim, 13 Jan. t. i. 818. The same thought, but not derived from this beautiful pas- sage, is expressed in lloderick. As we put off The cares and passions of this fretful world, It may be, too, that we thus far approach To elder nature, and regain in part The; ])rivilcge through sin in Eden lost. The timid liare soon learns that she may trust The solitary penitent ; and birds Will light upon the hermit's harmless lumd. One of Borri's heretical fancies was an opinion that saints, even in tliis life, have the same dominion over the animal world invested in them, as was enjoyed by Adam before his fall. — Itdazione ddla vita (hi Cav. Boi-ri, ]). 357. ILLUSTRATIONS. 413 -reat ano-er aixainst his father's wife, and his father's servants, as appears by some letters which are still extant ; which anger betwixt them was a great misfortune to them both, and to all that appertained unto them. " Tlie unhappy feeling on the part of this son towards his father seems, however, to have had a deeper cause than the displeasure which a second marriage might have occasioned. For in these foithful records it is said, that towards the latter end of his mother's life, ' her husband was unkind to her, and had two or three base children by another woman ; so as by reason of that, and her husband taking part with some of the Commons about taxes, against the said King Henry VII., in the latter end of his reign, he was in some disgrace witli the said king,' " The shepherd Lord is said to have been more beliolden for the restoration of his estates to the relationship of this wife with Henry VII., than to any gratitude on that king's part, for the services and the sufferings of the House of Clifford in the Lancastrian cause. This ladv, " Anne St. John, only daughter to Sir John St. John of Bletso, was cousin-german to King Henry VII., for her fatlier was half- brother to tliat king's mother, Margaret, Countess of Rich- mond and Derljy. A\'liich king did then restore the said Lord (Clifford to his lands and honours, and estate, the rather because he did then marry tliat cousin-geriiian of his, for though the said king favoured liim, because his father and grandfather were slain in the service of the House of Lan- caster, yet by tradition it is resolved, tliat the cause chiefly why he recovered his lands and honours, was because lie married the said king's cousin-german, Anne St. John." ILLUSTRATIONS. 437 " This Anne St. John, Lady Clifford, of whom we now treat, was a woman of great goodness and piety, and devotion, and lived for the most part a comitry life, in her husband's castles in the North, during the time she lived his wife, which was about twenty-one years. " This wife of his was so great a housewife, as that she caused tapestry hangings to be made, which was then a rare thing here in England ; and some of them are remaining until this time, with the arms of herself and husband wrought in them." — Sinnmary of the Lives of the Veteriponts and Clif- fords, 8fc. MSS. Second marriage of Isabella cle Berkeley. Vol. II. p. 75. By the old Spanish laws, a deed of gift might be revoked, if the person in whose favour it was made, had afterwards shown himself ungrateful by speaking ill of the donor, faziendole grand desonra dc jJolabra ; but a mother who having made a gift to her son after she was left a widow, contracted a second marriage, could not annul the grant upon this plea. Such was the feeling concerning second marriage. — Partida 5. Tit. 4. Ley 10. Thomas Lord Clifford. Vol. II. p. 79. Buchanan accuses him (I know not on what authority) of having assassinated Douglas at Dantzic, in consequence of an enmity arising from his claims to the Douglas estates, as having been granted to his grandfather by Edward Balliol. ' Eodem anno Gulielmus Duglassius, Nithiaj Regulus, (quern ' diximus virtutis crga generum k TJege ascitum,) Dantisci ad ' Vistulam occisus fuit, percussoribus h Cliffordo Anglo in ' eum submissis. Duglassius enim rebus domi tranquillis, ne ' in ocio languesceret, in Borussiam ad bellum sacrum profec- ' tus, tale specimen virtutis dedit, ut universte classi, quoc 438 NOTES AND ' maxima et ornatissima erat, proeficeretur. Orta vero alter- ' catione cum Anglo, ex antiqua cnemulatione eum honorem ' molesle fercnte, ad certamen singulare ab eo fuit provocatus. ' Provocator secum cogitans, in quam ancipitem martis aleam ' se clemissurus esset, hominem per sicarios toUendum curat.' — Rev. Scot. 1. ix. § 67. In the summary of the Lives of the CUffords, it is properly observed upon this foul charge, that " the malice between the two nations was so great then, as this may well be false." The motive of cowardice which Buchanan assigns, may safely be pronounced to be so ; a Cliflord who went to the Vistula, for tiie mere sake of war, was not a man to shrink from a single combat. Buchanan is certainly wrong in the date which he has given, which is 1390 ; Clifford's father died July 13, 1391, and it was not till after his father's death that he went to serve with the Teutonic knights. Political influence of the Pulpit. Vol. II. p. 116. " It was observed of Queen Elizabeth, that when she had any business to bring about amongst the people, she used to tune the pulpits, as her saying was, that is to say, to have some preachers in and about London, and other great audi- tories in the kingdom, ready at command to cry up her de- sign, as well in their public sermons, as their private confer- ences." — Htylyn's Life of Laud, p. 153. Hobbes had a great dislike to the Universities, which, he said, were the core of rel)ellion : but he said also, that perhaps, the only course which could " make our peace amongst ourselves constant, was to discipline them well, that they might send out well-i)rincipled preachers." No man ever more clearly perceived that power can be permanently main- tained only by opinion. " For if men know not their duty, what is there can force them to obey the laws? An army you'll say.. but what shall force the army? Was not the Trained Bands an army ? Were they not Janizaries that not ILLUSTRATIONS, 439 long ago slew Osman in his own palace at Constantinople ? " — Behemoth. Moral and Pol. Works, p. 516. The vulgar clamour against those clergy who have man- fully and dutifully stood forth in defence of the Protestant Establishment, may be sufficiently answered in the words of that excellent man, Robert Nelson: " It is all times the indispensable obligation of all the bishops and pastors of the Church, to behave themselves with an holy boldness and un- daunted resolution, in the affairs of God and religion, with- out being awed or biassed by the torrent of the times, or made sordidly to crouch to a prevailing power of worldly politicians, who are for carrying on their own sinister designs at any rate, though always under the most specious pretexts." — Life of Bishop Bull, p. 356. Ed. 1827. We may be thankful that the Church of England is, at this time, according to the prayer of her own true poet : . . . For her defence, replenished with a band Of strenuous champions, in scholastic arts Thoroughly disciplined : nor (if in course Of the revolving world's disturbances Cause should recur, which righteous Heaven avert ! To meet such trial) from their spiritual lives Degenerate, who, constrained to wield the sword Of disputation, shrunk not, tho' assailed With hostile din, and combating in sight Of angry umpires, partial and unjust. TVordswortKs Excursions, p. 252. Increase of Nobles. Vol. IL p. 121. Major Beake, in Richard Cromwell's Parliament, spoke thus upon the question of giving the Protector the power of creating peers. "You have no cause to fear the new nobility. . .Suppose the sinirle person should nominate five hundred peers, or more, to grow up over us and overtop us, such a numerous 440 NOTES AND nobility will rather strengthen your hands than liis ; for by experience we found the numerous nobility of King James was the destruction of his son. When King Charles began to multiply lords, they struck in with you, and deserted the king. " Though God in his providence hath taken away the nobility, yet what God doth providentially, he not always approves. That he did approve it, is not clear to me. To untie this knot, we may say he did not do it approvingly. I take the single person and tlie commons as two scales, the House of Lords as the beam. Both scales are subject to factions, and tyranny, and extravagances. The beam is pru- dential. The power for seven hundred years transmitted to them, they have as much right to as the gentleman has to his cloak. Usage is a good right, if ancient. If nothing be rif^ht but what is natural, he hath not right to his victuals, his meat and drink: so that there is but a tuntum non to make it natural. It is so twisted with the Constitution, that five hundred for one upon the poll, would be for a House of Lords. The Parliament might as well take away meian and tuum as a House of Lords." — Burton's Journal, iii. 362. Number of the House of Commons. Vol. II. p. M6. This subject was incidentally noticed in the debates upon the union with Ireland. Mr. Grey observed that in the plan of Parliamentary reform, which he had brought forward, it was not proposed to increase the number of members ; and that the plan proposed by Mr. Pitt went uj)on the principle of preserving the number the same, by extinguishing a num- ber of boroughs to balance the number of members that were to be introduced by a more popular election. (Pari. History, xxxv. p. 70-1.) " As to that number," said he, " which may be convenient for a deliberative assembly, I should consider 558, {f/iat of the House before the Union,) a numijer as great as would be consistent with order. The ILLUSTRATIONS. 441 human voice even may afford some criterion, as the number ought not to be greater than could be able to hear the dis- cussion. It has rarely happened of late,; indeed, that the attendance has been great, or that parties have been very nicely balanced ; if, however, the attendance were to be regular, and an additional hundred members were to be in- troduced, it would be quite impossible for you, Sir, with all that wisdom, dignity, and firmness by which you are dis- tinguished, to preserve order amidst the conflict of nicely balanced parties." (lb. 99.) He suggested, therefore, " that forty-four of the most decayed boroughs should be struck off, which would lead to a vacancy of eighty-eight mem- bers ; that the ratio at which Ireland was to have one hun- dred members, should be preserved, which, for the remainder 478, would give 85 for that country." — lb. 101. The gloss of Drusius upon a verse of St. James (M?/ TToWoi ^tcaaKaXoi rjtueaOe ace\(f)oi ytis, iii. 1) may here be remembered and applied : ' Summa summarum ; quo pauci- ' ores sunt magistri, eo melius agitur cum populo. Nam ut ' medicorum olim Cariam, ita doctorum et magistrorum nunc ' multitude perdit rempublicam. Utinam vanus sim ! ' — Quoted by Bishop Bull, vol. i. 139. Intellectual obliquity of vision. Vol. II. p. 155. " There is a squint eye that looks side-long ; to look upon riches and honours on the left hand, and long life here, on the right, is a squint eye. There is a squint eye that looks upwards and downwards ; to look after God and Mammon is a squint eye. There are squint eyes that look upon one another ; to look upon one's own beauty, or wisdom, or power, is a squint eye. The direct look is to look inward upon their own conscience ; not with Nebuchadnezzar ; ' Is not this great Babylon which I have built by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty ? ' but with David, Quid retribuam ! for if tliou look upon them with a clear eye, thou wilt see that though thou hast them, tliou hast but 442 NOTES AND found them,. . .thou hast them but by chance, by contingency, by fortune.' — Donne s Sermons, Ixx. p. 711. Clothmahers. Vol. II. p. 158. " I liear say there is a certain cunning come up in mixing of wares. How say you, were it not a wonder to hear that Clothmakers should become Poticaries ;. .yea, and as I hear say, in sucli a ])lace wlicreas tliey have ])rofessed the Gospel, and the word of God most earnestly of a long time ? See how busy the Devil is to slander the word of God ! Thus the poor Gospel goeth to wreck. If his cloth be seventeen yards long, he will set him on a rack, and stretch him out with ropes, and rack him till tlie sinews shrink again, while he hath brought him to eighteen yards. When they have brought him to that perfection, thay have a pretty feat to thick him again. He makes me a powder for it, and plays the Poticary ; they call it flock-powder : they do so incorpo- rate it to the cloth, that it is wonderful to consider ; truly a good invention. Oh that so goodly wits should be so ill applied I they may well deceive the people, but they cannot deceive God. They were wont to make beds of flocks, and it was a good bed too; now they have turned flocks into powder to play the false thieves with it. O wicked Devil ! what can he not invent to blaspheme God's word ? These mixtures come of covetousness. They are plain theft. Woe worth that these flocks should slander the word of God : as He said to the Jews, the wine is mingled with water, so might he have said to us of this land, thy cloth is mingled with fl ock-powder." — Latimer. St. Pauls School. Vol. II. p. 1G5. Ujjon this subject Erasmus speaks more fully in his Dialogue De Pronuncialione. ILLUSTRATIONS. 443 ' Ursus. Proinde Joannes Coletus, vir seterna dignus me- ' moria, quum templo divi Pauli scliolam puerilem addidisset, ' nulla cura magis torquebatur, quam in quos ejus rei praefec- ' turam delegaret. Episcopi judicant banc rem indignam su3, ' solicitudine. Scholasteres censibus recipiendis se potius quam ' scholfB curandae datos arbitratui-, et pulchre sibi videntur suo * functi officio, si ludimagistros non deciment. In collegiis ' canonicorum fere semper deterior pars superat. Magistratus ' vel judicio carent, vel indulgent privatis affectibus. Leo. ' Quid tandem consilii reperit ? Urs. Hominem conjugatum ' et liberis divitem scliolse preefecit : provisionem delegavit ' aliquot e civibus laicis, quorum probitatem habere sibi vide- ' batur exploratam, ut ab his in lueredes proximos derivetur. ' Leo. Num ea providentia securum reddidit ? Urs. Minima ; ' sed his aiebat sibi videri minimum esse periculi, ut turn habe- ' bant res humanee.' There is no profession which may more truly deserve to be called liberal, when carried on by a just and honourable man. Vol. II. p. 165. A writer who has been condemned by Dryden to be held in worse remembrance than he deserved, has left this character of an English Merchant resident in foreign parts. " He is one, who goes abroad with a stock of honour, as well as money, to traffic with and manage either bravely ; being a master and not a slave to wealth, and such a master as honours it by commands, making it only to serve to noble ends. He neither sticks at trivial expense nor gain, nor anti- cipates poverty for fear of being poor, (like those who kill themselves for fear of death,) nor accelerates it by vain glory of appearing rich, (like those who gild over ruinous palaces,) but look in his accompts aiid warehouse, and you find him a wealthy merchant ; but look in all the rest of his house and family, and you find him a noble and gallant-minded gentle- man. In brief, he neither starves the channel with penurious- ness, nor exhausts the spring with prodigality, but has a 444 NOTES AND particular art to keep a full stream still running, and tlie fount still full, so as we may well say of him in these dead times, that there is none lives hut he ; who, whilst greatest landed men are outed of all they have, as long as the sea is open, is sure of his coming in. To conclude, he is the honour of his nation abroad, and therefore his nation should be very dis- honourable and unworthy, should it not always honour him." ■^Fkckiio's Relation of Ten Years' Travels, p. 89. Few appreciate the blessings of competence and lei- sure. Vol. II. p. 168. "It is the sin of many of the gentry, whom God hath fur- nished with means and abilities to do much good, to spend their whole days and lives in an unprofitable course of doing either nothing, or as good as nothing, or worse than nothing. I cannot be so either stupid as not to apprehend, or rigorous, as not to allow, a diflerence in the manner of employment, and in other circumstances thereto belonging, between those that are nobly or generously born or bred, and those of the meaner and ordinary rank. Manual, and servile, and mechanic trades and arts are for men of a lower condition. But yet no man is born, no man should be bred unto idleness. There are f^enerous and ingenuous and liberal employments, sortablc to the greatest births and educations. For some man, whom God hath blessed with power and authority in his country, with fair livings and large revenues, with a numerous family of ser- vants, retainers, and tenants, and the like, it may be a suffi- cient calling, and enough to take up his whole time, even to keep hospitality, and to order and overlook his family, and to dispose of his lands and rents, and to make peace and pre- serve love and neighbourhood among them that live near or under him. He that doth but this as he ought to do, or is otherwise industrious for the common good, must be acknow- ledged a worthy member of the commonwealih, and his course of life, a calling (although perhaps not so toilsome, yet) in sua ILLUSTRATIONS. 445 genere as necessary and profitable, as that of the husbandman, merchant, lawyer, mmister, or any other. " But for our meer, or parcel-gallants, who live in no settled course of life, but spend half the day in sleeping, lialf the night in gaming, and the rest of their time in other pleasures and vanities, to as little purpose as they can devise, as if they were born for nothing else but to eat and drink, and snort and sport ; who are spruce and trim as the lilies, (Solomon in all his royalty was not clothed like one of these,) yet they neither sow, nor reap, nor carry into the barn ; they neither labour, nor spin, nor do anything else for the good of human society ; let them blush, there is not the poorest con- temptible creature that crieth oysters and kitclien-stuff in the streets, but deserveth his bread better than they, and his course of life is of better esteem with God, and every sober wise man, than theirs. A horse that is neither good for the way, nor the cart, nor the race, nor the wars, nor any other service ; let him be of never so good a breed, never so well marked and shaped, yet he is but a jade ; his master setteth no store by him, thinketh his meat ill-bestowed upon him ; every man will say, better knock him on the head than keep him ; his skin, though not much wortli, is yet better worth than the whole beast besides. " Consider this, you that are of noble or generous birtli. Look unto tlie rock whence you were hewn, and to tlie pit whence you were digged. Search your pedigrees ; collect the scattered monuments and liistories of your ancestors, and observe by what steps your wortliy progenitors raised their liouses to the height of gentry, or nobility. Scarce shall you find a man of them that gave any accession, or brought any noted eminency to his house, but either serving in the camp, or sweating at the bar, or waiting at Court, or adventuring on the seas, or trucking in his shop, or some other way industriously bestirring himself in some settled calling and course of life. You usurp their arms, if you inherit not their virtues ; and those ensigns of honour and gentry, which they by industry atchieved, sit no otherwise upon your shoulders, than as rich trappings ujoon asses' backs, which serve but to 446 NOTES AND render the poor beast more ridiculous. If you by brutisli sensuality, and spending your time in swinish luxury, stain the colours and embase the metals of those badges of your gentry and nobility, which you claim by descent, think, when we worship or honour you, we do but flout you ; and know the titles we in courtesy give you, we bestow upon their memory, whose degenerate offspring you are, and whose arms you unworthily bear ; and they do no more belong to you, than the reverence the good man did to Isis, belonged to the ass that carried her image." — Sanderson. Fourteen Sermons. 248. Nunneries. Vol.11, p. 211. " We are apt," says ]\Ir. Barrow, in his Remarks on Madeira (Voyage to Cochin-china) " to attach a hvely interest to young females who are thus so cruelly, as we suppose, separated for ever from all society, except that of each other : but it is extremely doubtful if they possess those exalted sentiments, nice feelings, and sound understandings, which prevail among females of those countries where they are allowed to enjoy unrestrained freedom." — True. But can it be doubted whether they possess natural feelings? the question is not concerning nice ones. Nunneries are useful as Bedlams, which crazy women choose for themselves ; but they are not Bedlams ; they are Prisons ; and it is not necessary that women should possess exalted sentiments for them to be very miserable in confinement. Books from New England. Vol. II. p. 243. Two of these are of some importance in the history of Qiiakerisii), and of great rarity in the Bibiiotheca Quakeriana. It is a pleasing example of the literary intercourse subsisting between New England and the Mother Country, that these ILLUSTRATIONS. 447 books should have been procured by one man of letters in Massachusetts for the use of another at the foot of Skiddavv, I am obliged for them to my friend, Professor Ticknor — one of those persons who were more especially in my mind when I spoke in the Introduction (p. 3) of American travellers in England. I subjoin the titles of these books, as characteristic in their kind. George Fox digged out of his Burrowes. Or an offer of Disputation on fourteen Proposals made this last summer, 1672, (so called) unto G. Fox, then present on Rode Island in New England, by R(oger) AV(illiams.) As also how, G. Fox slily departing, the Disputation went on, being managed three days at Newport on Rode Island, and one day at Pro- vidence, between John Stubs, -John Burnet (Burnyeat), and William Edmundson, on the one part, and R. W. on the other. In which many quotations out of G. Fox and Ed. Bur- rowes Book in folio are alledged, with an appendix of some scores of G. F., his simple lame answers to his opposites in that Book, quoted and replyed to. By R. W. of Providence in N. E. — Boston, Printed by John Foster, 1676. Small 4to. A New England Fire Brand quenched, being an Answer mito a Slanderous Book entituled George Fox digged out of his Burrowes, &c. Printed at Boston in the year 1676, by Roger Williams, of Providence in New England. Which he dedicateth to the King, with desires that, if the Most High please. Old and New England may flourish when the Pope and Mahomet, Rome and Constantinople are in their ashes. Of a Dispute upon 14 of his Proposals held and debated be- twixt him, the said Roger AVilliams on the one part, and John Stubs, William Edmundson, and John Burnyeat on the other, at Providence and Newport in Rode Island in the year 1672. In which his cavils are refuted, and his Reflections reproved. In two parts. As also an Answer to R. W.'s appendix, &c. with a Postscript confuting its blasphemous assertions, viz. of the Blood of Christ that was shed, its being corruptible and corrupted ; and that Salvation was by a man that was corruptible, &c. Whereunto is added a Catalogue of hia 448 NOTES AND Railery, Lies, scorn, and blaspliemies : and liis Temporizing Spirit made manifest. Also the letters of W. Coddington of Rode Island, and R. Scot of Providence in New England con- cerning R. W. And lastly some Testimonies of Ancient and Modem Authors concerning the light, scriptures, Rule, and the Soul of i\Ian. By George Fox and John Burnyeat. Printed in the year 1679, Enjoyment of Books. Vol. II. p. 254. There is a beautiful passage in Machiavelli's Letters, de- scribing the delight which he enjoyed in his studies. After a lively picture of his daily occupations in the country, he says, Venuta la sera mi ritorno a casa, ed entro in mio Scrittojo ; ed in suU' uscio mi spoglio qucUa veste contadina, j)iena di fango e di loto, e mi metto panni reali c curiali, e rivestito condecentemente entro nelle antiche corti degli antichi uomini, dove da loro ricevuto amorevolmente, mi pasco di quel cibo die sohwi e mio, e che io nacqui per lui ; dove io non mi ver- goo-no parlare con loro, c domandare della ragione delle loro azioni ; c quelli per loro umanita mi rispondono ; e non sento per quattro ore di tempo alcuna noja. Sdimentico ogni af- fanno, non temo la poverta, non mi sbigottisce la morte ; lutto mi trasferisco in loro. E perche Dante dice " che non non fu scienza sonza ritcner Io intcso," io ho notato quello di che ])er la loro conversazione ho fatto capitale, c coniposto un oposcolo de Principalibus, dove io mi i)rofondo quanto io posso nelle cogitazioni di questo subietto, disputando che cosa e princij)ato, di (juali spezie sono, come e' si acquistano, come e* si mantcngono, perch6 c' si pcrdono ; e si vi piacque niai alcun mio ghiribizzo, questo non vi dovrcbbe dispiacorc; e ad un principe, c massime ad un principe nuovo, dovrebbe csscre accctto.' — Opere di Machiave.lli. IS 13. Vol. viii. p. 96 lirasmus writes upon the same suliject, witli as much truth and feeling as Machiavclli ; but there is less life in the letter, more of the author, and less of the man. ILLUSTRATIONS. 449 ' Quid verum faciam rogas ? Amicis operam do, liorum ' consuetudine gratissima memet oblecto. Qaos tu tandem ' amicos milii jactitas, inquis, homuncio levissime ? An quis- ' quam te visum aut auditum velit? Equidem non diffiteor ' fortunatorum amicos esse plurimos : at nee pauperibus de- ' sunt amici et quidem isti non paulo turn cevtiores turn com- ' modiores. Cum his me concludo in angulum aliquem, et ' turbam ventorum fugiens, aut cum illis dulcia quoedam mus- ' sito, aut eos aiiquid insusurrantes audio, cum his non secus ' ac mecum loquor. An quicquam his commodius ? Arcana ' ipsi sua celant nunquam, commissa summa cum fide conti- ' nent : nihil forasquije Hberius inter familiares efl\uidere solemus, ' renunciant : vocati praesto sunt, invocati non ingerunt sese : ' jussi loquuntur, injussi tacent : loquuntur quce voles, quantum ' voles, quoad voles ; nihil assentantur, fingunt nihil, nihil dis- ' simulant ; vitia tua tibi libere indicant, neniini obtrectant : ' aut jucunda dicunt, aut salutaria: secundis in rebus moderan- ' tur, consolantur in afflictis, cum fortuna ininime variantur : ' in omnia pericula te sequuntur, ad extremos usque rogoa ' perdurant : nihil illis inter ipsos candidius. Committo sub- ' inde, nunc hos, nunc illos, mihi asciscens, omnibus lequus. ' Cum his amiculis optime N . . sepultus delitesco. Quas ego ' tandem opes, aut quae sceptra cum hac desidia commutavero ? ' Verum ne nostra te fallat metaphora, quicquid de amiculis ' hactenus sum locutus, de libris dictum intelligas, quorum ' familiaritas me plane beatum efFecit, hoc solo infortunatum, ' quod non tecum mihi hrec felicitas contigcrit.' — L. iv. Ep, 31. p. 297. Multiplication of Books. Vol. II. p. 255. Leibnitz looked forward to the time when this would become an evil, and proposed a plan for preserving wliat should be most worthy of j^reservation ; . . but he foresaw also how diffi- cult it would be to determine this. ' Excerpendee essent ex scriptoribus, non solum quae semel VOL. II. 2 G 450 NOTES AND * sed etiam quae primum dicta sunt a quolibet auctore. In- ' cipieudum vero ab antiquissimis, sic perspicerc liceret quid a ' quovis statutum. Non tamen quccvis, sed huniano generi ' instruendo inservientia, delibanda forent. Si mundus adliuc ' mille annos durabit, et tot libvi, ut hodie, conscribentur, vereor, * ne e Bibliotliecis integrse civitates fiant : sed injuria tempo- ' rum et casus varii multas perdent. Opus itaque esset, ut e ' scriptoribus singularibus et arclietypis, qui alios non exscrip- ' serunt, Eclogm Photiance conficerentur, res memorabiles ipsis ' autorum verbis exponentes ; qusenam autem res sint alicujus ' momenti, non cuivis ob diversitatem ingeniorum et discipli- * narum dijudicare licet.' — Mantissa Miscellaneorum Leib- nitianorum, § 26. A point of honour among certain of the Italians in the HJth century to be ignorant. Vol. II. p. 270. This appears from a passage in the curious dialogues of Lodovico Domenichi (Vinegia, 1662.) ' Ghe. rianno ancho un' altra infamia glihuomini litterati ; * 6 questo e che non sono stimati nobili, riputandosi hoggidi * cosa mecanica e vile lo attendere a gli studi delle buone ' letterc. * Her. Questae openione del vulgo. ' Ghe. Anzi ci sono de gli huomini nati nobilmente, i quali ' si recherebbono a vergogna sapere pure solamente scrivere il ' nome loro, non che lettere. ' Bat. Costoro che voi ci havetericordati non son purdegni ' di chiamarsi huomini, non che gentili, e di corte. Ma las- ' ciamo ire simili gcntaglie, a gran Lorto lioggiai favorite da ' alcuni principi.' — p. 11. But Domenichi himself thought learning had been vul- garized too nmcli. This appears in his Dialogo ddla IStampa. ' L'abondanza che la stainpa ha fatto venir de' libri, e stata * cagione di molti inconvenienti. ' LoL. Et quali son questi disordini ? ILLUSTRATIONS. 451 ' Coc. Prima, moltepersone nate vilmente, lequali con niag- ' giore utility del mondosi sarebbonopotute impiegare inmolti ' esercitii mecanici, et degni degli animi et corpi loro, tirate ' dalla gran commodita di studiare, si son posto a leggere : ' onde n' e poi seguito, die gl' huomini nobili, et dotti, sono ' stati poco apprezzati et meno premiati. Et molti sdegnando ' d' haver compagni le piu vili brigate nelle scienze, hanno ' lasciato afFatto ogni buona disciplina, et cosi si sono marciti ' neir ocio e nella lascivia. In questo modo la dignita, et la ' riputatione dello studio delle lettere e venuta mancando : et ' cessati sono ancho i premi, poi clie s'6 potutovedere la gran * fticilita, et la poca fatica, clie e nel venir dotti et letterati.' — lb. 383. The Spaniards also in that age despised learning, as a thing incompatible with a soldier's habits. Speaking of tlie ancient Pliilosophers, Pietro Martire says, in an Epistle to the Arch- bishop of Toledo, ' Ingens latumque chaos inter prseteritos ' prsesentesque magistros fateor ; sed non strictius inter audi- ' tores sentio interesse. Illi namque ab atavis illiteratum ' hominem h belua nil distare crediderunt, eamque sibi in ma- ♦ ternis uteris opinionem induebant ; Hispaniae contra juvenes ' ab avis proavisque, ad nostram usque tempestatem, eum mi- ' noris esse faciendum, qui literas sectetur, falso arbitrati sunt, ' quia militise, cui soli invigilare honorificum putant, literas esse ' impedimento hactenus crediderunt.' — Ep. cii. p. 59. And again — ' Existimabat namque nobilitas atque absurde ' arbitrabatur, militari disciplinaB literas adversari. Inde ab ' illis tanquam ab hoste infensissimo, tergiversata est hactenus, ' ex instituto majorum.' — Ep. ciii. 59. Cataloguing Travellers. Vol. II. p. 279. Feller says of Leibnitz, ' Cum Anno 1671, iter in Galliam ' ingrederetur, Monconysii Itineraruim, tanquam vise monstra- ' torem in indagandis rebus literariis, pliysicis et mathematicis, ' secum asportavit. Memini illustrem virum optasse aliquando, 2 G 2 452 NOTES AND ' ut de rebus hodiernis, visu dignis, similis liber conficeretur ; ' vel ex Itinerariis colligerentur ad emendationem generis ♦ Immani profutura, aut in rebus moralibus, politicis, &c. imi- ' tabilia, quum et J3arbari siopius optimis institutis abundarent.' — Supplementum Vitce Leibnitiance. Travellers putti?ig out money on their oivn lives. Vol. II. p. 283. " Being newly returned home, I thought the going into more remote parts would be of little use to me, yet I had an itching desire to ""see Jerumlem, the fountain of Religion, and Con- stantinople, of old the seat of Cliri'stian Emperors, and now the seat of the Turkish Ottoman. Being of this mind when I returned into England, it happened that my brother Henry was then beginning that voyage, having to that purpose put out some four hundred pounds, to be repaid twelve hundred pounds upon his return from those two cities, and to lose it if he died in the journey. I say he had thus put out the most part of his small estate, which in England is no better with gentlemen's younger sons, nor so good, as with bastards in other ])laces, as well for the English law most unmeasurably fiivouring elder brothers, as (let me boldly say it) for the ignorant pride of fathers, who, to advance their eldest sons, drive the rest to desperate courses, and make them unable to live, or to spend any money in getting understanding and experience ; so as they being in wants, and yet more miserable by their gentry and jjh'ntirul education, must needs ruslj into all vices; for all wise men confess, that nothing is more contrary to goodness than j)ovcrty. My brother being partner witli other gentlemen ia this fortune, thought this ))uttiiig out of money to be an honest means of gaining, at least, the charges of his journey, and the rather, because it had not then been heard in England, that any man liad gone this longjourney by land, nor any like it, (excepting only Master John Wrath, whom I name for honour,) ami more especially he thought this gain most honest and just, if this journey were compared with other base adven- ILLUSTRATIONS. 453 tures for gain, which long before this time had been, and were then in use. And I confess, that this his resolution did not at the first dislike me. For I remembered, that this manner of gain had of old been in use among the inhabitants of the Low Countries, and the Sea Coasts oiGerinany (and so it is yet in use with them.) — " Being led with these reasons, I liked his counsel, and made mj-self his consort in that journey. And I had now given out upon like condition money to some few friends, when, per- ceiving the common opinion in this point to be much dif- fering from mine, and thereupon better considering this matter, and observing (as a stranger that had been long out of my country) that these kinds of adventures were grown very fre- quent, whereof some were indecent, some ridiculous, and that they were in great part undertaken by bankrupts, and men of base condition, I might easily judge that in short time they would become disgraceful, whereupon I changed my mind. " Only I gave out one hundred pound to receive three hun- dred at my return among my brethren, and some few kinsmen and dearest friends, of whom I would not shame to confess that I received so much of gift. And lest by spending upon the stock my patrimony should be wasted, I moreover gave out to five friends, one hundred pound, with condition that they should have it if I died, or after three years should repay it with one hundred and fifty pound again if I returned; which I hold a disadvantageous adventure to the giver of the money. Neither did I exact this money of any man by suit of law after my return, which they willingly and presently paid me, only some few excepted, who retaining the very money I gave them, dealt not therein so gentleman-like with me, as I did with them. And by the great expenses of my journey, much increased by the ill accidents of my brother's death, and my own sickness, the three hundred and fifty pounds I was to receive of gain after my return ; and the one hundre 1 pounds which my brother and I carried in our purses, would not sa- tisfy the five hundred pound we had spent, (though my brother died within the compass of the first year) ; but I was forced to pay the rest out of my own patrimony. 454 NOTES AND " Gentle reader, I will no longer trouble thee witli these trifles : only in the behalf of them, who for a reasonable gain, and upon long journies, and not upon ridiculous adventures, have put out their money in this sort. Give leave to me (however I desisted from that course) to add this: — All man- ners of attire came first into the city and country from the court, which being once received by the common people, and by very stage-players themselves, the courtiers justly cast off, and take new fashions, (though somewhat too curiously;) and whosoever wears the old, men look upon him as upon a picture in arras hangings. For it is proverbially said, that we may cat according to our own appetites, but in our appa- rel must follow the fashion of the multitude, with whom we live. But in the mean time it is no reproach to any, who of old did wear those garments, when they were in fashion. In like sort, many dances and measures are used in Court, but when they come to be vulgar and to be used upon very stages, Courtiers and Gentlemen think them uncomely to be used ; yet it is no reproach to any man who formerly had skill therein. To conclude, (that I may not trouble you with like examples, which are infinite,) I say that this manner of giv- ing out money upon these adventures, was first used in Court, and among the very Noblemen ; and when any of them showed thereby extraordinary strength, the most censorious ajjproved it, but when any performed a long journey, with courage and discretion, no man was found who did not more or less commend it, according to the condition of the journey performed. Now in this age, if bankrupts, stage-players, and men of base condition, have drawn this custom into contempt, I grant that Courtiers and Gentlemen have reason to forbear it, yet know not why they should be blamed, who have thus put out their money in another age, when this custom was approved. A man may justly say it is great injustice, that our actions should be measured by opinion and not by rea- son ; but when a man leaves any custom that hath been ap- proved, lest he should oppose himself to the common people, a monster, of many heads, the most envious hath nothing whereat they may justly carp. And if any measure may be ILLUSTRATIONS. 455 imposed to deti-actors, surely they must spare them, who un- dertake long voyages, full of great dangers, who do not put out their money in Taverns, or at feasts to any man without distinction, but dispose of their money with their friends upon reasonable adventure of gain, (which in absence they cannot otherwise dispose to profit;) Finally, who being not rich by patrimony, take these journies only for experience, and to be enabled to that expense, do condition this reasonable gain. I say the detractors must spare these, and distinguish them from others, who make cursory journies, without any desire to better their understanding thereby, and more from those, who in these courses rather make trial of their bodies strength, than of their minds' ability. And most of all from those, who expose themselves to the scorn of men, by base and ridi- culous adventures, or that little differ from self-murderers, in undertaking desperate actions for gain." — Fynes Morysons Itinerary, Part i., p. 198. Such speculations appear to have been called Adventures vpon Return. They led to wild wagering undertakings, of which no man engaged in more, or more hazardous ones, than Taylor, the Water Poet. The last journey performed from a like motive was probably that of Jerusalem Whalley. >S'^. Appollonia. Vol. II. p. 287. " But as for your tethe I wene if they aked well, ye wold yourself think it a thing worthy and not to simple, to ask help of St. Appolyn and of God to. Ye mary, quod he, and of the Devyll to, rather than fayle, as the Lombard did for the gowte ; that when he had long called upon God and our Lady, and all the holy company of Heaven, and yet felt himself never the better, he began at last to call for help as fast upon the Devyll. And when his wife and his friends sore abashed and astonyed, rebuked him for calling on the Devyll which he wist well was nought, and if that he holpe him it shold be for no good, he cried out as loud as he could, ho§ni aiuto e bono, 456 NOTES AND all is good that helpetli. And so, I wcne, wolde I, quod he, call on the Dovyll and all, rather than abyde in payne. Nay, quod I, whatsoever ye say, I cannot think ye wolde byleve in the Devyll as that Lumbard did : ye wolde rather fare like another, that when the frere apposed him in confession, whe- ther he meddled anything with witchcraft, or necromancy, or had any byleve in the Devyll, he answered him. Credere en le Dyable my syr no. To grannd fatyge a credere in Dio. Byleve in the Devyll, quod he, naye, naye, Sir, I have work enough to byleve in God, I. And so wolde I wene tliat ye were far from all bylevying in the Devyl ; ye have so much work to byleve in himself, that ye be lolhe methink to meddle much with his Saints." — Sir T. More's Dialoge, p. 78. St. Uncumher. Vol. II. p. 287. This appellation was given to St. Wilgefortis, famous for her beard. The reason is whimsical, and might entitle her to be the patroness of the Scotch Lawyers. " St. Loy we make an horseleche ; and must let our horse rather renne unshod and marre his hoofe, than to sho him on his dav : which we must for that point more religiously kepe liigh and holy than Ester day. And by cause one smyth is to few at a forge, we set St. Ipolitus to helpe him. And on St. Stevyns day we must let all our horses blood with a knyfe, bycausc St. Stephen was kylled with stones. St. Appolyne we make a tothe-drawer, and may speke to her of nothing but of sore teeth. St. Sythe women set to seek their keys. St. Roke we set to see to the great sykencs, bycause he had a sore. And with him they joyn St. Sebastian, bycause he was martyred with arrovves. Some serve for the eye onely. And some for a sore breast. St. Gcrmayne onely for chil- dren ; and yet will he not ones loke at them, but if the mother bring with tliciii a white lofe, and a pot of good ale. And yet is he wiser than St. Wylgeforte, for she, good soul, is as tliey say served and content with otys. Whereof I can- not perceive the reason, but if it be bycause she shold })ro- ILLUSTRATIONS. 457 vyde an horse for an evil liousbonde to ride to the Devyll upon : for that is the thing that she is so sought for, as they say. In so much that women liath therefore changed her name, and in stede of St. Wylgeforte call her St. Uncumber, bycause they reken that for a pecke of otys she will not fayle to uncomber theym of theyr liousbondys.' — Sir T. Mores Dialoge, p, 76. Sir Thomas More's Poems. Vol. II. p. 302. Sir Thomas is mentioned by Taylor, the Water Poet, as one of those poets whose verses were still in repute : the list which Taylor gives is curious for this reason, that all the other names, Dyer's excepted, retain their reputation. In Paper many a Poet now survives, Or else their hnes had perished with their lives. Old Chaucer, Gower, and Sir Thomas More, Sir Philip Sidney who the laurel wore ; Spenser and Shakspeare did in art excel, Sir Edward Dyer, Greene, Nash, Daniel, Silvester, Beaumont, Sir John Harrington ; Forgetfulness their works would over-run. But that in Paper they immortally Do live in spite of Death, and cannot die. And many there are living at this day AV'hich do in Paper their true worth display. As Davis, Drayton, and the learned Donne, Jolinson and Chapman, Marston, Middleton, With Rowley, Fletcher, Wither, Massinger, Heywood, and all the rest where'er they are, Must say their lines but for the paper sheet Had scarcely ground whereon to set their feet. Praise of Hemp Seed. 458 NOTES AND Sir Thomas Mores latter thoiujhts of his Utopia. Vol. II. p. 303. " As touching Moria, in which Erasmus, under llie name and ])erson of Moria (whyclie worde in greke sygnyfyeth foly), doth merely towche and reprove suclie fautes and folyes as he founde in any kynde of people, perusynge every state and condycyon spyrytuall and temporall, Icvynge ahnost none untouched, by whych boke Tyndale say th, that yf it were in englyshe, every man sholde then well se that I was then ferre otherwyse myndcd then I now wryte : yf thys be trew, then tlie more cause have I to tlianke God of amendement. But surely this is untrew. For God be thanked, I never hadde that mynde in my lyfe to have holy Sayntes ymages, or theyr holy relykes out of reverence. Nor yf thare were any suche thynge in Moria, that thynge coude not yet make any man se that I were myself of that mynde, the boke beynge made by a nother man though he were my dcrlynge never so dere. How be it that ))oke of Moria doetli in dede but jeste uppon the abuses of suclie tliynges, after the manner of the dysours jjarte in a playe, and yet not so farre neyther by a greate deale, as the messenger doth in my dyalog, whyche I have yet sufiercd to stande styll in my dyaloge, and that rather yet by the counsayle of otlier men then of my selfe, " For, all be yt that yt be lawful! to any man to mysselyke the mysseuse of every good thynge, and that in my dyaloge there not onely tliose evyll thynges rehersed, but answered aUo and soyleii, and the goodnes of the thyng self well used is playnely confyrmed and proved : yet hath Tyndale by er- ronyouse bokes, in settynge forth Luthers pestylent heresyes, 8o envenemed the hartes of lewdly disposed persones, that men can not almost now speke of such thynges in so mycli as a play, but that such cvyll hercrs wax a grcte dele the worse. " And therel'orc in these daycs in which Tyndale hath (God amende hym I) with tlienfeccion of his contagyouse he- rcsyics, so sore poyscned malycyouse and newfangle folks, that the kynges hyghncs, and not wythout the counsayle and ILLUSTRATIONS. 459 advyce not of his nobles only, wyth his other counsaylours attendynge uppou his gracys person, but also of the ryght vertuouse and specyall well lerned men of eyther unyversyte and other partyes of the realme specyally called thereto, hatha after dylygent and long consyderacyon hadde therein, ben fayne for the wliyle to prohybyte the scrypture of God to be suffered in englyshe tonge amonge the peoples handes, leste evyll folke by false drawyng of every good thynge they rede in to the colour and mayntenauns of theyr owne fonde fantasyes, and turnynge all hony in to poisyn, myght both dedly do hurte unto theym selfe, and sprede also that infeccyone farther a brode : I saye therfore, in these dayes in whyche men by theyr owne defaute mysseconstre and take harme of the very scrip- ture of God, untyll menne better amende, yf any man wolde now translate Moria in to Englyshe, or some workes eyther that I have my selfe wryten ere this, all be yt there be none harme therein, folke yet beyng (as they be) geven to take harme of tliat that is good, I wolde not onely my derlynges bokes, but myne owne also, helpe to burne them both wyth myne own handes, rather then folke sholde (though thorow theyr own faute) take any harme of them, seynge that I se them lykely in these days so to do." — Confutacyon ofTyn- dal's Answer, 128. Moral use of Poetry . Vol. II. p. 306. With how much greater force does this apply to religion ! ' Nous Savons ovi nous sommes parvenus, ce que nous ' sommes devenus, malgre les principes de religion et de ' morale que i'on a cherche vainement h. nous inculquer des ' I'enfance, et a nous faire pratiquer parfaitement : mais au ' moins nous avons connu la verite et nos devoirs ; qui sait ' combien nous serions tombes encore plus has si cela n'avait ' pas eu lieu ? qui pent dire jusqu'ou arriverait notre perver- ' site, si Ton nous prechait une fuusse doctrine toute contraire ' k la religion et k la morale ?' — Louis Buonaparte. Documeiis Historiques sur la HoUande, ii. 194. 400 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. If I looked to secondary causes alone, my fears would preponderate. Vol. II. p. 332. " Our whole system," says Horace Walpole, writing in 17S3, " is become a disjointed cliaos, and time must digest it — or blow it up shortly. I see no way into it ; nor expect any thing favourable but from chance, that often stops confusion on a sudden. To restore us by any system, it would require a single head furnished with wisdom, temper, address, forti- tude, full and undivided power, and sincere patriotism di- vested of all personal views. Where is that prodigy to be found ? — and how should it have the power if it had all the rest? and if it had the power, how could it be divested of that power again ? and if it were not, how long would it retain its virtues ? Power and wisdom would soon unite, like Antony and Augustus, to annihilate their colleague virtue, for being a poor creature like Lepidus." — Letters, vol. iv. 338. THE END. London :— W, Clowes, Stamford-street. t?,^'^ UNIVERSITY' OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This hqt^ is DUE on the last date stamped below. ID'UEi APR 3 Oj'^^ SEP 9t^7B^ REC'D LD-URC MAR 2 1984 ^EC'D LD-URC AIAfi c ^ V idd4 u> WETD riti jm 1 5 ip77 1 7 1983 - t-te 181985 t MOV 1 1 1987 Form L9-Series4939 1 !,758 00816 0045 Ur SMI ITHFR'j RFGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY nil AA 000 375 537 8