{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_39517/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_39517","id":"gutenberg_39517","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39517","summary":null,"tags":["Arts -- Periodicals","Category: British Literature","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Politics","Literature -- Periodicals","Political science -- Periodicals","The Contemporary Review"],"text":"Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Nigel Blower and\nthe Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttp://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n[Transcriber's Notes:\n\nThe first part of this volume (September 1879) was produced as Project\nGutenberg Ebook #30048. The relevant part of the table of contents has\nbeen extracted from that document, and a brief title page added.\n\n_Italic words_ have been enclosed in underscores. *Gesperrt* (spaced)\nletters have been enclosed in asterisks. Greek letters have been\ntransliterated and enclosed in equals signs, e.g. =schole=. Symbols such\nas hieroglyphics or script letters have been represented using braces,\ne.g. {symbol}. As the oe ligature cannot be included in this format, it\nhas been replaced with the separate letters, e.g. \"Phoenician\".\n\nA few minor typographical errors have been silently corrected. Some\ninconsistent hyphenation and accents have been retained.]\n\n\n\n\n             THE\n         CONTEMPORARY\n            REVIEW\n\n  VOLUME XXXVI. NOVEMBER, 1879\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  NOVEMBER, 1879.\n                                                                    PAGE\n  On Freedom. By Professor Max Muller                                369\n\n  Mr. Gladstone: Two Studies suggested by his \"Gleanings of Past\n    Years.\" I. By a Liberal.--II. By a Conservative                  398\n\n  The Ancien Regime and the Revolution in France. By Professor\n    von Sybel                                                        432\n\n  What is the Actual Condition of Ireland? By Edward Stanley\n    Robertson                                                        451\n\n  The Deluge: Its Traditions in Ancient Nations. By Francois\n    Lenormant                                                        465\n\n  Suspended Animation. By Richard A. Proctor                         501\n\n  John Stuart Mill's Philosophy Tested. IV.--Utilitarianism.\n    By Professor W. Stanley Jevons                                   521\n\n\n\n\nON FREEDOM.[1]\n\n\nNot more than twenty years have passed since John Stuart Mill sent forth\nhis plea for Liberty.[2]\n\nIf there is one among the leaders of thought in England who, by the\nelevation of his character and the calm composure of his mind, deserved\nthe so often misplaced title of Serene Highness, it was, I think, John\nStuart Mill.\n\nBut in his Essay \"On Liberty,\" Mill for once becomes passionate. In\npresenting his Bill of Rights, in stepping forward as the champion of\nindividual liberty, a new spirit seems to have taken possession of him.\nHe speaks like a martyr, or the defender of martyrs. The individual\nhuman soul, with its unfathomable endowments, and its capacity of\ngrowing to something undreamt of in our philosophy, becomes in his eyes\na sacred thing, and every encroachment on its world-wide domain is\ntreated as sacrilege. Society, the arch-enemy of the rights of\nindividuality, is represented like an evil spirit, whom it behoves every\ntrue man to resist with might and main, and whose demands, as they\ncannot be altogether ignored, must be reduced at all hazards to the\nlowest level.\n\nI doubt whether any of the principles for which Mill pleaded so warmly\nand strenuously in his Essay \"On Liberty\" would at the present day be\nchallenged or resisted, even by the most illiberal of philosophers, or\nthe most conservative of politicians. Mill's demands sound very humble\nto _our_ ears. They amount to no more than this, \"that the individual is\nnot accountable to society for his actions so far as they concern the\ninterests of no person but himself, and that he may be subjected to\nsocial or legal punishments for such actions only as are prejudicial to\nthe interests of others.\"\n\nIs there any one here present who doubts the justice of that principle,\nor who would wish to reduce the freedom of the individual to a smaller\nmeasure? Whatever social tyranny may have existed twenty years ago, when\nit wrung that fiery protest from the lips of John Stuart Mill, can we\nimagine a state of society, not totally Utopian, in which the individual\nman need be less ashamed of his social fetters, in which he could more\nfreely utter all his honest convictions, more boldly propound all his\ntheories, more fearlessly agitate for their speedy realization; in\nwhich, in fact, each man can be so entirely himself as the society of\nEngland, such as it now is, such as generations of hard-thinking and\nhard-working Englishmen have made it, and left it as the most sacred\ninheritance to their sons and daughters?\n\nLook through the whole of history, not excepting the brightest days of\nrepublican freedom at Athens and Rome, and I know you will not find one\nsingle period in which the measure of Liberty accorded to each\nindividual was larger than it is at present, at least in England. And if\nyou wish to realize the full blessings of the time in which we live,\ncompare Mill's plea for Liberty with another written not much more than\ntwo hundred years ago, and by a thinker not inferior either in power or\nboldness to Mill himself. According to Hobbes, the only freedom which an\nindividual in his ideal state has a right to claim is what he calls\n\"freedom of thought,\" and that freedom of thought consists in our being\nable to think what we like--so long as we keep it to ourselves. Surely,\nsuch freedom of thought existed even in the days of the Inquisition, and\nwe should never call thought free, if it had to be kept a prisoner in\nsolitary and silent confinement. By freedom of thought we mean freedom\nof speech, freedom of the press, freedom of action, whether individual\nor associated, and of that freedom the present generation, as compared\nwith all former generations, the English nation, as compared with all\nother nations, enjoys, there can be no doubt, a good measure, pressed\ndown, and shaken together, and sometimes running over.\n\nIt may be said that some dogmas still remain in politics, in religion,\nand in morality; but those who defend them claim no longer any\ninfallibility, and those who attack them, however small their minority,\nneed fear no violence, nay, may reckon on an impartial and even\nsympathetic hearing, as soon as people discover in their pleadings the\ntrue ring of honest conviction and the warmth inspired by an unselfish\nlove of truth.\n\nIt has seemed strange therefore to many readers of Mill, particularly on\nthe Continent, that this cry for Liberty, this demand for freedom for\nevery individual to be what he is, and to develop all the germs of his\nnature, should have come from what is known as the freest of all\ncountries, England. We might well understand such a cry of indignation\nif it had reached us from Russia; but why should English philosophers,\nof all others, have to protest against the tyranny of society? It is\ntrue, nevertheless, that in countries governed despotically, the\nindividual, unless he is obnoxious to the Government, enjoys far greater\nfreedom, or rather licence, than in a country like England, which\ngoverns itself. Russian society, for instance, is extremely indulgent.\nIt tolerates in its rulers and statesmen a haughty defiance of the\nsimplest rules of social propriety, and it seems amused rather than\nastonished or indignant at the vagaries, the frenzies, and outrages, of\nthose who in brilliant drawing-rooms or lecture-rooms preach the\ndoctrines of what is called Nihilism or Individualism,[3]--viz., \"that\nsociety must be regenerated by a struggle for existence and the survival\nof the strongest, processes which Nature has sanctioned, and which have\nproved successful among wild animals.\" If there is danger in these\ndoctrines the Government is expected to see to it. It may place watchmen\nat the doors of every house and at the corner of every street, but it\nmust not count on the better classes coming forward to enrol themselves\nas special constables, or even on the co-operation of public opinion\nwhich in England would annihilate that kind of Nihilism with one glance\nof scorn and pity.\n\nIn a self-governed country like England, the resistance which society,\nif it likes, can oppose to the individual in the assertion of his\nrights, is far more compact and powerful than in Russia, or even in\nGermany. Even where it does not employ the arm of the law, society knows\nhow to use that softer, but more crushing pressure, that calm, but\nGorgon-like look which only the bravest and stoutest hearts know how to\nresist.\n\nIt is rather against that indirect repression which a well-organized\nsociety exercises, both through its male and female representatives,\nthat Mill's demand for Liberty seems directed. He does not stand up for\nunlimited licence; on the contrary, he would have been the most\nstrenuous defender of that balance of power between the weak and the\nstrong on which all social life depends. But he resents those smaller\npenalties which society will always inflict on those who disturb its\ndignified peace and comfort:--avoidance, exclusion, a cold look, a\nstinging remark. Had Mill any right to complain of these social\npenalties? Would it not rather amount to an interference with individual\nliberty to wish to deprive any individual or any number of individuals\nof those weapons of self-defence? Those who themselves think and speak\nfreely, have hardly a right to complain, if others claim the same\nprivilege. Mill himself called the Conservative party the stupid party\n_par excellence_, and he took great pains to explain that it was so, not\nby accident, but by necessity. Need he wonder if those whom he whipped\nand scourged used their own whips and scourges against so merciless a\ncritic?\n\nFreethinkers, and I use that name as a title of honour for all who, like\nMill, claim for every individual the fullest freedom in thought, word,\nor deed, compatible with the freedom of others, are apt to make one\nmistake. Conscious of their own honest intentions, they cannot bear to\nbe mistrusted or slighted. They expect society to submit to their often\nvery painful operations as a patient submits to the knife of the\nsurgeon. That is not in human nature. The enemy of abuses is always\nabused by his enemies. Society will never yield one inch without\nresistance, and few reformers live long enough to receive the thanks of\nthose whom they have reformed. Mill's unsolicited election to Parliament\nwas a triumph not often shared by social reformers; it was as\nexceptional as Bright's admission to a seat in the Cabinet, or Stanley's\nappointment as Dean of Westminster. Such anomalies will happen in a\ncountry fortunately so full of anomalies as England; but, as a rule, a\npolitical reformer must not be angry if he passes through life without\nthe title of Right Honourable; nor should a man, if he will always speak\nthe truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, be disappointed\nif he dies a martyr rather than a Bishop.\n\nBut granting even that in Mill's time there existed some traces of\nsocial tyranny, where are they now? Look at the newspapers and the\njournals. Is there any theory too wild, any reform too violent, to be\nopenly defended? Look at the drawing-rooms or the meetings of learned\nsocieties. Are not the most eccentric talkers the spoiled children of\nthe fashionable world? When young lords begin to discuss the propriety\nof limiting the rights of inheritance, and young tutors are not afraid\nto propose curtailing the long vacation, surely we need not complain of\nthe intolerance of English society.\n\nWhenever I state these facts to my German and French and Italian\nfriends, who from reading Mill's Essay \"On Liberty\" have derived the\nimpression that, however large an amount of political liberty England\nmay enjoy, it enjoys but little of intellectual freedom, they are\ngenerally willing to be converted so far as London, or other great\ncities, are concerned. But look at your Universities, they say, the\nnurseries of English thought! Can you compare their mediaeval spirit,\ntheir monastic institutions, their scholastic philosophy, with the\nfreshness and freedom of the Continental Universities? Strong as these\nprejudices about Oxford and Cambridge have always been, they have become\nstill more intense since Professor Helmholtz, in an inaugural address\nwhich he delivered at his installation as Rector of the University of\nBerlin, lent the authority of his great name to these misconceptions.\n\"The tutors,\" he says,[4] \"in the English Universities cannot deviate\nby a hair's-breadth from the dogmatic system of the English Church,\nwithout exposing themselves to the censure of their Archbishops and\nlosing their pupils.\" In German Universities, on the contrary, we are\ntold that the extreme conclusions of materialistic metaphysics, the\nboldest speculations within the sphere of Darwin's theory of evolution,\nmay be propounded without let or hindrance, quite as much as the highest\napotheosis of Papal infallibility.\n\nHere the facts on which Professor Helmholtz relies are entirely wrong,\nand the writings of some of our most eminent tutors supply a more than\nsufficient refutation of his statements. Archbishops have no official\nposition whatsoever in English Universities, and their censure of an\nOxford tutor would be resented as impertinent by the whole University.\nNor does the University, as such, exercise any very strict control over\nthe tutors, even when they lecture not to their own College only. Each\nMaster of Arts at Oxford claims now the right to lecture (_venia\ndocendi_), and I doubt whether they would ever submit to those\nrestrictions which, in Germany, the Faculty imposes on every\n_Privat-docent_. _Privat-docents_ in German Universities have been\nrejected by the Faculty for incompetence, and silenced for\ninsubordination. I know of no such cases at Oxford during my residence\nof more than thirty years, nor can I think it likely that they should\never occur.\n\nAs to the extreme conclusions of materialistic metaphysics, there are\nOxford tutors who have grappled with the systems of such giants as\nHobbes, Locke, or Hume, and who are not likely to be frightened by\nBuchner and Vogt.\n\nI know comparisons are odious, and I am the last man who would wish to\ndraw comparisons between English and German Universities unfavourable to\nthe latter. But with regard to freedom of thought, of speech, and\naction, Professor Helmholtz, if he would spend but a few weeks at\nOxford, would find that we enjoy a fuller measure of freedom here than\nthe Professors and _Privat-docents_ in any Continental University. The\npublications of some of our professors and tutors ought at least to have\nconvinced him that if there is less of brave words and turbulent talk in\ntheir writings, they display throughout a determination to speak the\ntruth, which may be matched, but could not easily be excelled, by the\nleaders of thought in France, Germany, or Italy.\n\nThe real difference between English and Continental Universities is that\nthe former govern themselves, the latter are governed. Self-government\nentails responsibilities, sometimes restraints and reticences. I may\nhere be allowed to quote the words of another eminent Professor of the\nUniversity of Berlin, Du Bois Reymond, who, in addressing his\ncolleagues, ventured to tell them,[5] \"We have still to learn from the\nEnglish how the greatest independence of the individual is compatible\nwith willing submission to salutary, though irksome, statutes.\" That is\nparticularly true when the statutes are self-imposed. In Germany, as\nProfessor Helmholtz tells us himself, the last decision in almost all\nthe more important affairs of the Universities rests with the\nGovernment, and he does not deny that in times of political and\necclesiastical tension, a most inconsiderate use has been made of that\npower. There are, besides, the less important matters, such as raising\nof salaries, leave of absence, scientific missions, even titles and\ndecorations, all of which enable a clever Minister of Instruction to\nassert his personal influence among the less independent members of the\nUniversity. In Oxford the University does not know the Ministry, nor the\nMinistry the University. The acts of the Government, be it Liberal or\nConservative, are freely discussed, and often powerfully resisted by the\nacademic constituencies, and the personal dislike of a Minister or\nMinisterial Councillor could as little injure a professor or tutor as\nhis favour could add one penny to his salary.\n\nBut these are minor matters. What gives their own peculiar character to\nthe English Universities is a sense of power and responsibility: power,\nbecause they are the most respected among the numerous corporations in\nthe country; responsibility, because the higher education of the whole\ncountry has been committed to their charge. Their only master is public\nopinion as represented in Parliament, their only incentive their own\nsense of duty. There is no country in Europe where Universities hold so\nexalted a position, and where those who have the honour to belong to\nthem may say with greater truth, _Noblesse oblige_.\n\nI know the dangers of self-government, particularly where higher and\nmore ideal interests are concerned, and there are probably few who wish\nfor a real reform in schools and Universities who have not occasionally\nyielded to the desire for a Dictator, of a Bismarck or a Falk. But such\na desire springs only from a momentary weakness and despondency; and no\none who knows the difference between being governed and governing\noneself, would ever wish to descend from that higher though dangerous\nposition to a lower one, however safe and comfortable it might seem. No\none who has tasted freedom would ever wish to exchange it for anything\nelse. Public opinion is sometimes a hard task-master, and majorities can\nbe great tyrants to those who want to be honest to their own\nconvictions. But in the struggle of all against all, each individual\nfeels that he has his rightful place, and that he may exercise his\nrightful influence. If he is beaten, he is beaten in fair fight; if he\nconquers, he has no one else to thank. No doubt despotic Governments\nhave often exercised the most beneficial patronage in encouraging and\nrewarding poets, artists, and men of science. But men of genius who have\nconquered the love and admiration of a whole nation are greater than\nthose who have gained the favour of the most brilliant Courts; and we\nknow how some of the fairest reputations have been wrecked on the\npatronage which they had to accept at the hands of powerful Ministers or\nambitious Sovereigns.\n\nBut to return to Mill and his plea for Liberty. Though I can hardly\nbelieve that, were he still among us, he would claim a larger measure of\nfreedom for the individual than is now accorded to every one of us in\nthe society in which we move, yet the chief cause on which he founded\nhis plea for Liberty, the chief evil which he thought could be remedied\nonly if society would allow more elbow-room to individual genius, exists\nin the same degree as in his time--aye, even in a higher degree. The\nprinciple of Individuality has suffered more at present than perhaps at\nany former period of history. The world is becoming more and more\ngregarious, and what the French call our _nature moutonniere_, \"our\nmutton-like nature,\" our tendency to leap where any bell-wether has\nleapt before, becomes more and more prevalent in politics, in religion,\nin art, and even in science. M. de Tocqueville expressed his surprise\nhow much more Frenchmen of the present day resemble one another than did\nthose of the last generation. The same remark, adds John Stuart Mill,\nmight be made of England in a greater degree. \"The modern _regime_ of\npublic opinion,\" he writes, \"is in an unorganized form what the Chinese\neducational and political systems are in an organized; and unless\nindividuality shall be able successfully to assert itself against this\nyoke, Europe, notwithstanding its noble antecedents and its professed\nChristianity, will tend to become another China.\"\n\nI fully agree with Mill in recognizing the dangers of uniformity, but I\ndoubt whether what he calls the _regime_ of public opinion is alone, or\neven chiefly, answerable for it. No doubt there are some people in whose\neyes uniformity seems an advantage rather than a disadvantage. If all\nwere equally strong, equally educated, equally honest, equally rich,\nequally tall, or equally small, society would seem to them to have\nreached the highest ideal. The same people admire an old French garden,\nwith its clipped yew-trees, forming artificial walls and towers and\npyramids, far more than the giant yews which, like large serpents, clasp\nthe soil with their coiling roots, and overshadow with their dark green\nbranches the white chalk cliffs of the Thames. But those French gardens,\nunless they are constantly clipped and prevented from growing, soon fall\ninto decay. As in nature, so in society, uniformity means but too often\nstagnation, while variety is the surest sign of health and vigour. The\ndeepest secret of nature is its love of continued novelty. Its tendency,\nif unrestrained, is towards constantly creating new varieties, which, if\nthey fulfil their purpose, become fixed for a time, or, it may be, for\never; while others, after they have fulfilled their purpose, vanish to\nmake room for new and stronger types.\n\nThe same is the secret of human society. It consists and lives in\nindividuals, each being meant to be different from all the others, and\nto contribute his own peculiar share to the common wealth. As no tree is\nlike any other tree, and no leaf on the same tree like any other leaf,\nno human being is exactly like any other human being, nor is it meant to\nbe. It is in this endless, and to us inconceivable, variety of human\nsouls that the deepest purpose of human life is to be realized; and the\nmore society fulfils that purpose, the more it allows free scope for the\ndevelopment of every individual germ, the richer will be the harvest in\nno distant future. Such is the mystery of individuality that I do not\nwonder if even those philosophers who, like Mill, reduce the meaning of\nthe word _sacred_ to the very smallest compass, see in each individual\nsoul something sacred, something to be revered, even where we cannot\nunderstand it, something to be protected against all vulgar violence.\n\nWhere I differ from Mill and his school is on the question as to the\nquarter from whence the epidemic of uniformity springs which threatens\nthe free development of modern society. Mill points to the society in\nwhich we move; to those who are in front of us, to our contemporaries. I\nfeel convinced that our real enemies are at our back, and that the\nheaviest chains which are fastened on us are those made, not by the\npresent, but by past generations--by our ancestors, not by our\ncontemporaries.\n\nIt is on this point, on the trammels of individual freedom with which we\nmay almost be said to be born into the world, and on the means by which\nwe may shake off these old chains, or at all events carry them more\nlightly and gracefully, that I wish to speak to you this evening.\n\nYou need not be afraid that I am going to enter upon the much discussed\nsubject of heredity, whether in its physiological or psychological\naspects. It is a favourite subject just now, and the most curious facts\nhave been brought together of late to illustrate the working of what is\ncalled heredity. But the more we know of these facts, the less we seem\nable to comprehend the underlying principle. Inheritance is one of those\nnumerous words which by their very simplicity and clearness are so apt\nto darken our counsel. If a father has blue eyes and the son has blue\neyes, what can be clearer than that he inherited them? If the father\nstammers and the son stammers, who can doubt but that it came by\ninheritance? If the father is a musician and the son a musician, we say\nvery glibly that the talent was inherited. But what does _inherited_\nmean? In no case does it mean what _inherited_ usually means--something\nexternal, like money, collected by a father, and, after his death,\nsecured by law to his son. Whatever else inherited may mean, it does not\nmean that. But unfortunately the word is there, it seems almost pedantic\nto challenge its meaning, and people are always grateful if an easy word\nsaves them the trouble of hard thought.\n\nAnother apparent advantage of the theory of heredity is that it never\nfails. If the son has blue, and the father black, eyes, all is right\nagain, for either the mother, or the grandmother, or some historic or\nprehistoric ancestor, may have had blue eyes, and atavism, we know, will\nassert itself after hundreds and thousands of years.\n\nDo not suppose that I deny the broad facts of what is called by the name\nof heredity. What I deny is that the name of heredity offers any\nscientific solution of a most difficult problem. It is a name, a\nmetaphor, quite as bad as the old metaphor of _innate ideas_; for there\nis hardly a single point of similarity between the process by which a\nson may share the black eyes, the stammering, or the musical talent of\nhis father, and that by which, after his father's death, the law secures\nto the son the possession of the pounds, shillings, and pence which his\nfather held in the Funds.\n\nBut whatever the true meaning of heredity may be, certain it is that\nevery individual comes into the world heavy-laden. Nowhere has the\nconsciousness of the burden which rests on each generation as it enters\non its journey through life found stronger expression than among the\nBuddhists. What other people call by various names, \"fate or\nprovidence,\" \"tradition or inheritance,\" \"circumstances or environment,\"\nthey call _Karman_, deed--what has been done, whether by ourselves or by\nothers, the accumulated work of all who have come before us, the\nconsequences of which we have to bear, both for good and for evil.\nOriginally this _Karman_ seems to have been conceived as personal, as\nthe work which we ourselves have done in former existences. But, as\npersonally we are not conscious of having done such work in former ages,\nthat kind of _Karman_, too, might be said to be impersonal. To the\nquestion how _Karman_ began, the accumulation of what forms the\ncondition of all that exists at present, Buddhism has no answer to give,\nany more than any other system of religion or philosophy. The Buddhists\nsay it began with _avidya_, and _avidya_ means ignorance.[6] They are\nmuch more deeply interested in the question how _Karman_ may be\nannihilated, how each man may free himself from the influence of\n_Karman_, and Nirvana, the highest object of all their dreams, is often\ndefined by Buddhist philosophers as \"freedom from _Karman_.\"[7]\n\nWhat the Buddhists call by the general name of _Karman_, comprehends all\ninfluences which the past exercises on the present, both physically and\nmentally.[8] It is not my object to examine or even to name all these\ninfluences, though I confess nothing is more interesting than to look\nupon the surface of our modern life as we look on a geological map, and\nto see the most ancient formations cropping out everywhere under our\nfeet. Difficult as it is to colour a geological map of England, it would\nbe still more difficult to find a sufficient variety of colours to mark\nthe different ingredients of the intellectual surface of this island.\n\nThat all of us, whether we speak English or German, or French or\nRussian, are really speaking an ancient Oriental tongue, incredible as\nit would have sounded a hundred years ago, is now admitted by everybody.\nThough the various dialects now spoken in Europe have been separated\nmany thousands of years from the Sanskrit, the ancient classical\nlanguage of India, yet so unbroken is the bond that holds the West and\nEast together that in many cases an intelligent Englishman might still\nguess the meaning of a Sanskrit word. How little difference is there\nbetween Sanskrit _sunu_ and English _son_, between Sanskrit _duhitar_\nand English _daughter_, between Sanskrit _vid_, to know, and English _to\nwit_, between Sanskrit _vaksh_, to grow, and English _to wax_! Think how\nwe value a Saxon urn, or a Roman coin, or a Celtic weapon! how we dig\nfor them, clean them, label them, and carefully deposit them in our\nmuseums! Yet what is their antiquity compared with the antiquity of such\nwords as _son_ or _daughter_, _father_ and _mother_? There are no\nmonuments older than those collected in the handy volumes which we call\nDictionaries, and those who know how to interpret those English\nantiquities--as you may see them interpreted, for instance, in Grimm's\nDictionary of the German, in Littre's Dictionary of the French, or in\nProfessor Skeats' Etymological Dictionary of the English Language--will\nlearn more of the real growth of the human mind than by studying many\nvolumes on logic and psychology.\n\nAnd as by our language we belong to the Aryan stratum, we belong through\nour letters to the Hamitic. We still write English in hieroglyphics; and\nin spite of all the vicissitudes through which the ancient hieroglyphics\nhave passed in their journey from Egypt to Phoenicia, from Phoenicia\nto Greece, from Greece to Italy, and from Italy to England, when we\nwrite a capital F {script F}, when we draw the top line and the\nsmaller line through the middle of the letter, we really draw the two\nhorns of the cerastes, the horned serpent which the ancient Egyptians\nused for representing the sound of f. They write the name of the king\nwhom the Greeks called _Cheops_, and they themselves _Chu-fu_, like\nthis:[9]\n\n[Illustration:\n\n    +---------+\n    | sieve   |   chu\n    | serpent |   fu\n    | bird    |   u\n    +---------+\n]\n\nHere the first sign, the sieve, is to be pronounced _chu_; the second,\nthe horned serpent, _fu_, and the little bird, again, _u_. In the more\ncursive or Hieratic writing the horned serpent appears as\n{symbol}; in the later Demotic as {symbol} and\n{symbol}. The Phoenicians, who borrowed their letters from the\nHieratic Egyptian, wrote {symbol} and {symbol}. The\nGreeks, who took their letters from the Phoenicians, wrote\n{symbol}. When the Greeks, instead of writing like the\nPhoenicians from right to left, began to write from left to right,\nthey turned each letter, and as {symbol} became K, our k, so\n{symbol}, vau, became F, the Greek so-called Digamma, the Latin\nF.\n\nThe first letter in _Chu-fu_, too, still exists in our alphabet, and in\nthe transverse line of our H we must recognize the last remnant of the\nlines which divide the sieve. The sieve appears in Hieratic as\n{symbol}, in Phoenician as {symbol}, in ancient Greek\nas {symbol}, which occurs on an inscription found at Mycenae and\nelsewhere as the sign of the spiritus asper, while in Latin it is known\nto us as the letter H.[10] In the same manner the undulating line of our\ncapital {script L} still recalls very strikingly the bent back of\nthe crouching lion, which in the later hieroglyphic inscriptions\nrepresents the sound of L.\n\nIf thus in our language we are Aryan, in our letters Egyptian, we have\nonly to look at our watches to see that we are Babylonian. Why is our\nhour divided into sixty minutes, our minutes into sixty seconds? Would\nnot a division of the hour into ten, or fifty, or a hundred minutes have\nbeen more natural? We have sixty divisions on the dials of our watches\nsimply because the Greek astronomer Hipparchus, who lived in the second\ncentury B.C., accepted the Babylonian system of reckoning time, that\nsystem being sexagesimal. The Babylonians knew the decimal system, but\nfor practical purposes they counted by _sossi_ and _sari_, the _sossos_\nrepresenting 60, the _saros_ 60 \u00d7 60, or 3600. From Hipparchus that\nsystem found its way into the works of Ptolemy, about 150 A.D., and\nthence it was carried down the stream of civilization, finding its last\nresting-place on the dial-plates of our clocks.\n\nAnd why are there twenty shillings to our sovereign? Again the real\nreason lies in Babylon. The Greeks learnt from the Babylonians the art\nof dividing gold and silver for the purpose of trade. It has been proved\nthat the current gold piece of Western Asia was exactly the sixtieth\npart of a Babylonian _mna_, or _mina_. It was nearly equal to our\nsovereign. The difficult problem of the relative value of gold and\nsilver in a bi-monetary currency had been solved to a certain extent in\nthe ancient Mesopotamian kingdom, the proportion between gold and silver\nbeing fixed at 1 to 13-1/3. The silver shekel current in Babylon was\nheavier than the gold shekel in the proportion of 13-1/3 to 10, and had\ntherefore the value of one-tenth of a gold shekel; and the half silver\nshekel, called by the Greeks a drachma, was worth one-twentieth of a\ngold shekel. The drachma, or half silver shekel, may therefore be looked\nupon as the most ancient type of our own silver shilling in its relation\nof one-twentieth of our gold sovereign.[11]\n\nI shall mention only one more of the most essential tools of our mental\nlife--namely, our _figures_, which we call Arabic, because we received\nthem from the Arabs, but which the Arabs called Indian, because they\nreceived them from the Indians--in order to show you how this nineteenth\ncentury of ours is under the sway of centuries long past and forgotten;\nhow we are what we are, not by ourselves, but by those who came before\nus, and how the intellectual ground on which we stand is made up of the\ndetritus of thoughts which were first thought, not on these isles nor in\nEurope, but on the shores of the Oxus, the Nile, the Euphrates, and the\nIndus.\n\nNow you may well ask _Quorsum haec omnia?_--What has all this to do with\nfreedom and with the free development of individuality? Because a man is\nborn the heir of all the ages, can it be said that he is not free to\ngrow and to expand, and to develop all the faculties of his mind? Are\nthose who came before him, and who left him this goodly inheritance, to\nbe called his enemies? Is that chain of tradition which connects him\nwith the past really a galling fetter, and not rather the\nleading-strings without which he would never learn to walk straight?\n\nLet us look at the matter more closely. No one would venture to say that\nevery individual should begin life as a young savage, and be left to\nform his own language, and invent his own letters, numerals, and coins.\nOn the contrary, if we comprehend all this and a great deal more, such\nas religion, morality, and secular knowledge, under the general name of\n_education_, even the most advanced defenders of individualism would\nhold that no child should enter society without submitting, or rather\nwithout being submitted, to education. Most of us would even go further,\nand make it criminal for parents or even for communities to allow\nchildren to grow up uneducated. The excuse of worthless parents that\nthey are at liberty to do with their children as they like, has at last\nbeen blown to the winds. I still remember the time when pseudo-Liberals\nwere not ashamed to say that, whatever other nations, such as the\nGermans, might do, England would never submit to compulsory education.\nThat wicked sophistry, too, has at last been silenced, and among the\nprincipal advocates of compulsory education, and of the necessity of\ncurtailing the freedom of savage parents of savage children, have been\nMill and his friends, the apostles of liberty and individualism.[12] A\nnew era may be said to date in the history of every nation from the day\non which \"compulsory education\" becomes part of their statute-book; and\nI may congratulate the most Liberal town in England on having proved\nitself the most inexorable tyrant in carrying out the principle of\ncompulsory education.\n\nBut do not let us imagine that compulsory education is without its\ndangers. Like a powerful engine, it must be carefully watched, if it is\nnot to produce, what all compulsion will produce, a slavish receptivity,\nand, what all machines do produce, monotonous uniformity.\n\nWe know that all education must in the beginning be purely dogmatic.\nChildren are taught language, religion, morality, patriotism, and\nafterwards at school, history, literature, mathematics, and all the\nrest, long before they are able to question, to judge, or choose for\nthemselves, and there is hardly anything that a child will not believe\nif it comes from those in whom the child believes.\n\nReading, writing, and arithmetic, no doubt, must be taught dogmatically,\nand they take up an enormous amount of time, particularly in English\nschools. English spelling is a national misfortune, and in the keen\ninternational race between all the countries of Europe, it handicaps the\nEnglish child to a degree that seems incredible till we look at\nstatistics. I know the difficulties of a Spelling Reform, I know what\npeople mean when they call it impossible; but I also know that personal\nand national virtue consists in doing so-called impossible things, and\nthat no nation has done, and has still to do, so many impossible things\nas the English.\n\nBut, granted that reading, writing, and arithmetic occupy nearly the\nwhole school-time and absorb the best powers of the pupils, cannot\nsomething be done in play-hours? Is there not some work that can be\nturned into play, and some play that can be turned into work? Cannot the\npowers of observation be called out in a child while collecting flowers,\nor stones, or butterflies? Cannot his judgment be strengthened either in\ngymnastic exercises, or in measuring the area of a field or the height\nof a tower? Might not all this be done without a view to examinations or\npayment by results, simply for the sake of filling the little dull minds\nwith one sunbeam of joy, such sunbeams being more likely hereafter to\ncall hidden precious germs into life than the deadening weight of such\nlessons as, for instance, that _th-ough_ is though, _thr-ough_ is\nthrough, _en-ough_ is enough. A child who believes that will hereafter\nbelieve anything. Those who wish to see Natural Science introduced into\nelementary schools frighten schoolmasters by the very name of Natural\nScience. But surely every schoolmaster who is worth his salt should be\nable to teach children a love of Nature, a wondering at Nature, a\ncuriosity to pry into the secrets of Nature, an acquisitiveness for some\nof the treasures of Nature, and all this acquired in the fresh air of\nthe field and the forest, where, better than in frouzy lecture-rooms,\nthe edge of the senses can be sharpened, the chest be widened, and that\nfreedom of thought fostered which made England what it was even before\nthe days of compulsory education.\n\nBut in addressing you here to-night it was my intention to speak of the\nhigher rather than of elementary education.\n\nAll education, as it now exists in most countries of Europe, may be\ndivided into three stages--_elementary_, _scholastic_, and _academical_;\nor call it _primary_, _secondary_, and _tertiary_.\n\nElementary education has at last been made compulsory in most civilized\ncountries. Unfortunately, however, it seems impossible to include under\ncompulsory education anything beyond the very elements of knowledge--at\nleast for the present; though, with proper management, I know from\nexperience that a well-conducted elementary school can afford to provide\ninstruction in extra subjects--such as natural science, modern\nlanguages, and political economy--and yet, with the present system of\nGovernment grants, be self-supporting.[13]\n\nThe next stage above the elementary is _scholastic_ education, as it is\nsupplied in grammar schools, whether public or private. According as\nthe pupils are intended either to go on to a university, or to enter at\nonce on leaving school on the practical work of life, these schools are\ndivided into two classes. In the one class, which in Germany are called\n_Real-schulen_, less Latin is taught, and no Greek, but more of\nmathematics, modern languages, and physical science; in the other,\ncalled _Gymnasia_ on the Continent, classics form the chief staple of\ninstruction.\n\nIt is during this stage that education, whether at private or public\nschools, exercises its strongest levelling influence. Little attention\ncan be paid at large schools to individual tastes or talents. In\nGermany, even more perhaps than in England, it is the chief object of a\ngood and conscientious master to have his class as uniform as possible\nat the end of the year; and he receives far more credit from the\nofficial examiner if his whole class marches well and keeps pace\ntogether, than if he can parade a few brilliant and forward boys,\nfollowed by a number of straggling laggards.\n\nAnd as to the character of the teaching at school, how can it be\notherwise than authoritative or dogmatic? The Socratic method is very\ngood if we can find the _viri Socratici_ and leisure for discussion. But\nat school, which now may seem to be called almost in mockery =schole=,\nor leisure, the true method is, after all, that patronized by the great\neducators of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Boys at school\nmust turn their mind into a row of pigeon-holes, filling as many as they\ncan with useful notes, and never forgetting how many are empty. There is\nan immense amount of positive knowledge to be acquired between the ages\nof ten and eighteen--rules of grammar, strings of vocables, dates, names\nof towns, rivers, and mountains, mathematical formulas, &c. All depends\nhere on the receptive and retentive powers of the mind. The memory has\nto be strengthened, without being overtaxed, till it acts almost\nmechanically. Learning by heart, I believe, cannot be too strongly\nrecommended during the years spent at school. There may have been too\nmuch of it when, as the Rev. H. C. Adams informs us in his \"Wykehamica\"\n(p. 357), boys used to say by heart 13,000 and 14,000 lines, when one\nrepeated the whole of Virgil, nay, when another was able to say the\nwhole of the English Bible by rote:--\"Put him on where you would, he\nwould go fluently on, as long as any one would listen.\"\n\nNo intellectual investment, I feel certain, bears such ample and such\nregular interest as gems of English, Latin, or Greek literature\ndeposited in our memory during our childhood and youth, and taken up\nfrom time to time in the happy hours of our solitude.\n\nOne fault I have to find with most schools, both in England and on the\nContinent. Boys do not read enough of the Greek and Roman classics. The\nmajority of our masters are scholars by profession, and they are apt to\nlay undue stress on what they call accurate and minute scholarship, and\nto neglect wide and cursory reading. I know the arguments for minute\naccuracy, but I also know the mischief that is done by an exclusive\ndevotion to critical scholarship before we have acquired a real\nfamiliarity with the principal works of classical literature. The time\nspent in our schools in learning the rules of grammar and syntax,\nwriting exercises, and composing verses, is too large. Look only at our\nGreek and Latin grammars, with all their rules and exceptions, and\nexceptions on exceptions! It is too heavy a weight for any boy to carry;\nand no wonder that when one of the thousand small rules which they have\nlearnt by heart is really wanted, it is seldom forthcoming. The end of\nclassical teaching at school should be to make our boys acquainted not\nonly with the language, but with the literature and history, the ancient\nthought of the ancient world. Rules of grammar, syntax, or metre, are\nbut means towards that end; they must never be mistaken for the end\nitself. A young man of eighteen, who has probably spent on an average\nten years in learning Greek and Latin, ought to be able to read any of\nthe ordinary Greek or Latin classics without much difficulty; nay, with\na certain amount of pleasure. He might have to consult his dictionary\nnow and then, or guess the meaning of certain words; he might also feel\ndoubtful sometimes whether certain forms came from =hiemi=, I send, or\n=eimi=, I go, or =eimi=, I am, particularly if preceded by prepositions.\nIn these matters the best scholars are least inclined to be pharisaical;\nand whenever I meet in the controversies of classical scholars the\nfavourite phrase, \"Every schoolboy knows, or ought to know, this,\" I\ngenerally say to myself, \"No, he ought not.\" Anyhow, those who wish to\nsee the study of Greek and Latin retained in our public schools ought to\nfeel convinced that it will certainly not be retained much longer, if it\ncan be said with any truth that young men who leave school at eighteen\nare in many cases unable to read or to enjoy a classical text, unless\nthey have seen it before.\n\nClassical teaching, and all purely scholastic teaching, ought to be\nfinished at school. When a young man goes to University, unless he means\nto make scholarship his profession, he ought to be free to enter upon a\nnew career. If he has not learnt by that time so much of Greek and Latin\nas is absolutely necessary in after-life for a lawyer, or a student of\nphysical science, or even a clergyman, either he or his school is to\nblame. I do not mean to say that it would not be most desirable for\nevery one during his University career to attend some lectures on\nclassical literature, on ancient history, philosophy, or art. What is to\nbe deprecated is, that the University should have to do the work which\nbelongs properly to the school.\n\nThe best colleges at Oxford and Cambridge have shown by their\nmatriculation examinations what the standard of classical knowledge\nought to be at eighteen or nineteen. That standard can be reached by\nboys while still at school, as has been proved both by the so-called\nlocal examinations, and by the examinations of schools held under the\nDelegates appointed by the Universities. If, therefore, the University\nwould reassert her old right, and make the first examination, called at\nOxford Responsions, a general matriculation examination for admission to\nthe University, not only would the public schools be stimulated to\ngreater efforts, but the teaching of the University might assume, from\nthe very beginning, that academic character which ought to distinguish\nit from mere schoolboy work.\n\nAcademic teaching ought to be not merely a continuation, but in one\nsense a correction of scholastic teaching. While at school instruction\nmust be chiefly dogmatic, at University it is to be Socratic, for I find\nno better name for that method which is to set a man free from the\nburden of purely traditional knowledge; to make him feel that the words\nwhich he uses are often empty, that the concepts he employs are, for the\nmost part, mere bundles picked up at random; that even where he knows\nfacts, he does not know their evidence; and where he expresses opinions,\nthey are mostly mere dogmas, adopted by him without examination.\n\nBut for the Universities, I should indeed fear that Mill's prophecies\nmight come true, and that the intellect of Europe might drift into\ndreary monotony. The Universities always have been, and, unless they are\ndiverted from their original purpose, always will be, the guardians of\nthe freedom of thought, the protectors of individual spontaneity; and it\nwas owing, I believe, to Mill's ignorance of true academic teaching that\nhe took so desponding a view of the generation growing up under his\neyes.\n\nWhen we leave school, our heads are naturally brimful of dogma, that is,\nof knowledge and opinions at second-hand. Such dead knowledge is\nextremely dangerous, unless it is sooner or later revived by the spirit\nof free inquiry. It does not matter whether our scholastic dogmas be\ntrue or false. The danger is the same. And why? Because to place either\ntruth or error above the reach of argument is certain to weaken truth\nand to strengthen error. Secondly, because to hold as true on the\nauthority of others anything which concerns us deeply, and which we\ncould prove ourselves, produces feebleness, if not dishonesty. And,\nthirdly, because to feel unwilling or unable to meet objections by\nargument is generally the first step towards violence and persecution.\n\nI do not think of religious dogmas only. They are generally the first to\nrouse inquiry, even during our schoolboy days, and they are by no means\nthe most difficult to deal with. Dogma often rages where we least expect\nit. Among scientific men the theory of evolution is at present becoming,\nor has become, a dogma. What is the result? No objections are listened\nto, no difficulties recognized, and a man like Virchow, himself the\nstrongest supporter of evolution, who has the moral courage to say that\nthe descent of man from any ape whatsoever is, as yet, before the\ntribunal of scientific zoology, \"not proven,\" is howled down in Germany\nin a manner worthy of Ephesians and Galatians. But at present I am\nthinking not so much of any special dogmas, but rather of that dogmatic\nstate of mind which is the almost inevitable result of the teaching at\nschool. I think of the whole intellect, what has been called the\n_intellectus sibi permissus_, and I maintain that it is the object of\nacademic teaching to rouse that intellect out of its slumber by\nquestions not less startling than when Galileo asked the world whether\nthe sun was really moving and the earth stood still; or when Kant asked\nwhether time and space were objects, or necessary forms of our sensuous\nintuition. Till our opinions have thus been tested and stood the test,\nwe can hardly call them our own.\n\nHow true this is with regard to religion has been boldly expressed by\nBishop Beveridge.\n\n    \"Being conscious to myself,\" he writes in his \"Private Thoughts on\n    Religion,\" \"how great an ascendant Christianity holds over me beyond\n    the rest, as being that religion whereinto I was born and baptized;\n    that which the supreme authority has enjoined and my parents\n    educated me in; that which every one I meet withal highly approves\n    of, and which I myself have, by a long-continued profession, made\n    almost natural to me: I am resolved to be more jealous and\n    suspicious of this religion than of the rest, and be sure not to\n    entertain it any longer without being convinced, by solid and\n    substantial arguments, of the truth and certainty of it.\"\n\nThis is bold and manly language from a Bishop nearly two hundred years\nago, and I certainly think that the time has come when some of the\ndivinity lecturers at Oxford and Cambridge might well be employed in\nplacing a knowledge of the sacred books of other religions within the\nreach of undergraduates. Many of the difficulties--most of them of our\nown making--with regard to the origin, the handing down, the later\ncorruptions and misinterpretations of sacred texts, would find their\nnatural solution, if it was shown how exactly the same difficulties\narose and had to be dealt with by theologians of other creeds. If\nsome--ay, if many--of the doctrines of Christianity were met with in\nother religions also, surely that would not affect their value, or\ndiminish their truth; while nothing, I feel certain, would more\neffectually secure to the pure and simple teaching of Christ its true\nplace in the historical development of the human mind than to place it\nside by side with the other religions of the world. In the series of\ntranslations of the \"Sacred Books of the East,\" of which the first three\nvolumes have just appeared,[14] I wished myself to include a new\ntranslation of the Old and New Testaments; and when that series is\nfinished it will, I believe, be admitted that nowhere would these two\nbooks have had a grander setting, or have shone with a brighter light,\nthan surrounded by the Veda, the Zendavesta, the Buddhist Tripi_t_aka,\nand the Qur'an.\n\nBut as I said before, I was not thinking of religious dogmas only, or\neven chiefly, when I maintained that the character of academic teaching\nmust be Socratic, not dogmatic. The evil of dogmatic teaching lies much\ndeeper, and spreads much further.\n\nThink only of language, the work of other people, not of ourselves,\nwhich we pick up at random in our race through life. Does not every word\nwe use require careful examination and revision? It is not enough to say\nthat language assists our thoughts or colours them, or possibly obscures\nthem. No, we know now that language and thought are indivisible. It was\nnot from poverty of expression that the Greek called reason and language\nby the same word, =logos=. It was because they knew that, though we may\ndistinguish between thought and speech, as we distinguish between body\nand soul, it is as impossible to tear the one by violence away from the\nother as it is to separate the concave side of a lens from its convex\nside. This is something to learn and to understand, for, if properly\nunderstood, it will supply the key to most of our intellectual puzzles,\nand serve as the safest thread through the whole labyrinth of\nphilosophy.\n\n\"It is evident,\" as Hobbes remarks,[15] \"that truth and falsity have no\nplace but amongst such living creatures as use speech. For though some\nbrute creatures, looking upon the image of a man in a glass, may be\naffected with it, as if it were the man himself, and for this reason\nfear it or fawn upon it in vain; yet they do not apprehend it as true or\nfalse, but only as like; and in this they are not deceived. Wherefore,\nas men owe all their true ratiocination to the right understanding of\nspeech, so also they owe their errors to the misunderstanding of the\nsame; and as all the ornaments of philosophy proceed only from man, so\nfrom man also is derived the ugly absurdity of false opinion. For speech\nhas something in it like to a spider's web (as it was said of old of\nSolon's laws), for by contexture of words tender and delicate wits are\nensnared or stopped, but strong wits break easily through them.\"\n\nLet me illustrate my meaning by at least one instance.\n\nAmong the words which have proved spider's webs, ensnaring even the\ngreatest intellects of the world from Aristotle down to Leibniz, the\nterms _genus_, _species_, and _individual_ occupy a very prominent\nplace. The opposition of Aristotle to Plato, of the Nominalists to the\nRealists, of Leibniz to Locke, of Herbart to Hegel, turns on the true\nmeaning of these words. At school, of course, all we can do is to teach\nthe received meaning of _genus_ and _species_; and if a boy can trace\nthese terms back to Aristotle's =genos= and =eidos=, and show in what\nsense that philosopher used them, every examiner would be satisfied.\n\nBut the time comes when we have to act as our own examiners, and when we\nhave to give an account to ourselves of such words as _genus_ and\n_species_. Some people write, indeed, as if they had seen a _species_\nand a _genus_ walking about in broad daylight; but a little\nconsideration will show us that these words express subjective concepts,\nand that, if the whole world were silent, there would never have been a\nthought of a _genus_ or a _species_. There are languages in which we\nlook in vain for corresponding words; and if we had been born in such a\nlanguage, these terms and thoughts would not exist for us. They came to\nus, directly or indirectly, from Aristotle. But Aristotle did not invent\nthem, he only defined them in his own way, so that, for instance,\naccording to him, all living beings would constitute a _genus_, men a\n_species_, and Socrates an _individual_.\n\nNo one would say that Aristotle had not a perfect right to define these\nterms, if those who use them in his sense would only always remember\nthat they are thinking the thoughts of Aristotle, and not their own. The\ntrue way to shake off the fetters of old words, and to learn to think\nour own thoughts, is to follow them up from century to century, to watch\ntheir development, and in the end to bring ourselves face to face with\nthose who first found and framed both words and thoughts. If we do this\nwith _genus_ and _species_, we shall find that the words which Aristotle\ndefined--viz., =genos= and =eidos=--had originally a very different and\nfar more useful application than that which he gave to them. =Genos=,\n_genus_, meant generation, and comprehended such living beings only as\nwere known to have a common origin, however they might differ in outward\nappearance, as, for instance, the spaniel and the bloodhound, or,\naccording to Darwin, the ape and the man. =Eidos= or species, on the\ncontrary, meant appearance, and comprehended all such things as had the\nsame form or appearance, whether they had a common origin or not, as if\nwe were to speak of a species of four-footed, two-footed, horned,\nwinged, or blue animals.\n\nThat two such concepts, as we have here explained, had a natural\njustification we may best learn from the fact that exactly the same\nthoughts found expression in Sanskrit. There, too, we find *_g_ati*,\ngeneration, used in the sense of _genus_, and opposed to *ak_ri_ti*,\nappearance, used in the sense of _species_.\n\nSo long as these two words or thoughts were used independently (much as\nwe now speak of a genealogical as independent of a morphological\nclassification) no harm could accrue. A family, for instance, might be\ncalled a =genos=, the _gens_ or clan was a =genos=, the nation (gnatio)\nwas a =genos=, the whole human kith and kin was a =genos=; in fact, all\nthat was descended from common ancestors was a true =genos=. There is no\nobscurity of thought in this.\n\nOn the other side, taking =eidos= or species in its original sense, one\nman might be said to be like another in his =eidos= or appearance. An\nape, too, might quite truly be said to have the same =eidos= or species\nor appearance as a man, without any prejudice as to their common origin.\nPeople might also speak of different =eide= or forms or classes of\nthings, such as different kinds of metals, or tools, or armour, without\ncommitting themselves in the least to any opinion as to their common\ndescent.\n\nOften it would happen that things belonging to the same =genos=, such as\nthe white man and the negro, differed in their =eidos= or appearance;\noften also that things belonging to the same =eidos=, such as eatables,\ndiffered in their =genos=, as, for instance, meat and vegetables.\n\nAll this is clear and simple. The confusion began when these two terms,\ninstead of being co-ordinate, were subordinated to each other by the\nphilosophers of Greece, so that what from one point of view was called a\n_genus_, might from another be called a species, and _vice versa_. Human\nbeings, for instance, were now called a _species_, all living beings a\n_genus_, which may be true in logic, but is utterly false in what is\nolder than logic--viz., language, thought, or fact. According to\nlanguage, according to reason, and according to Nature, all human beings\nconstitute a =genos=, or generation, so long as they are supposed to\nhave common ancestors; but with regard to all living beings we can only\nsay that they form an =eidos=--that is, agree in certain appearances,\nuntil it has been proved that even Mr. Darwin was too modest in\nadmitting at least four or five different ancestors for the whole animal\nworld.[16]\n\nIn tracing the history of these two words, =genos= and =eidos=, you may\nsee passing before your eyes almost the whole panorama of philosophy,\nfrom Plato's ideas down to Hegel's _Idee_. The question of _genera_,\ntheir origin and subdivision, occupied chiefly the attention of natural\nphilosophers, who, after long controversies about the origin and\nclassification of _genera_ and _species_, seem at last, thanks to the\nclear sight of Darwin, to have arrived at the old truth which was\nprefigured in language--namely, that Nature knows nothing but _genera_,\nor generations, to be traced back to a limited number of ancestors, and\nthat the so-called _species_ are only _genera_, whose genealogical\ndescent is _as yet_ more or less obscure.\n\nBut the question as to the nature of the =eidos= became a vital question\nin every system of philosophy. Granting, for instance, that women in\nevery clime and country formed one species, it was soon asked what\nconstituted a species? If all women shared a common form, what was that\nform? Where was it? So long as it was supposed that all women descended\nfrom Eve, the difficulty might be slurred over by the name of heredity.\nBut the more thoughtful would ask even then how it was that, while all\nindividual women came and went and vanished, the form in which they were\ncast remained the same?\n\nHere you see how philosophical mythology springs up. The very question\nwhat =eidos= or species or form was, and where these things were kept,\nchanged those words from predicates into subjects. =Eidos= was conceived\nas something independent and substantial, something within or above the\nindividuals participating in it, something unchangeable and eternal.\nSoon there arose as many =eide= or forms or types as there were general\nconcepts. They were considered the only true realities of which the\nphenomenal world is only as a shadow that soon passeth away. Here we\nhave, in fact, the origin of Plato's ideas, and of the various systems\nof idealism which followed his lead, while the opposite opinions that\nideas have no independent existence, and that the one is nowhere found\nexcept in the many (=to hen para ta polla=), was strenuously defended by\nAristotle and his followers.[17]\n\nThe same red thread runs through the whole philosophy of the Middle\nAges. Men were cited before councils and condemned as heretics because\nthey declared that _animal_, _man_, or _woman_ were mere names, and that\nthey could not bring themselves to believe in an ideal animal, an ideal\nman, an ideal woman as the invisible, supernatural, or metaphysical\ntypes of the ordinary animal, the individual man, the single woman.\nThose philosophers, called _Nominalists_, in opposition to the\n_Realists_, declared that all general terms were _names only_, and that\nnothing could claim reality but the individual.\n\nWe cannot follow this controversy further, as it turns up again between\nLocke and Leibniz, between Herbart and Hegel. Suffice it to say that the\nknot, as it was tied by language, can be untied by the science of\nlanguage alone, which teaches us that there is and can be no such thing\nas \"a name only.\" That phrase ought to be banished from all works on\nphilosophy. A name is and always has been the subjective side of our\nknowledge, but that subjective side is as impossible without an\nobjective side as a key is without a lock. It is useless to ask which of\nthe two is the more real, for they are real only by being, not two, but\none. Realism is as one-sided as Nominalism. But there is a higher\nNominalism, which might better be called the Science of Language, and\nwhich teaches us that, apart from sensuous perception, all human\nknowledge is by names and by names only, and that the object of names is\nalways the general.\n\nThis is but one out of hundreds and thousands of cases to show how names\nand concepts which come to us by tradition must be submitted to very\ncareful snuffing before they will yield a pure light. What I mean by\nacademic teaching and academic study is exactly this process of\nsnuffing, this changing of traditional words into living words, this\ntracing of modern thought back to ancient primitive thought, this\nliving, as it were, once more, so far as it concerns us, the whole\nhistory of human thought ourselves, till we are as little afraid to\ndiffer from Plato or Aristotle as from Comte or Darwin.\n\nPlato and Aristotle are, no doubt, great names; every schoolboy is awed\nby them, even though he may have read very little of their writings.\nThis, too, is a kind of dogmatism that requires correction. Now, at\nUniversity, a young student might hear the following, by no means\nrespectful, remarks about Aristotle, which I copy from one of the\ngreatest English scholars and philosophers:--\"There is nothing so absurd\nthat the old philosophers, as Cicero saith, who was one of them, have\nnot some of them maintained; and I believe that scarce anything can be\nmore absurdly said in natural philosophy than that which now is called\nAristotle's Metaphysics; or more repugnant to government than much of\nthat he hath said in his Politics; nor more ignorantly than a great part\nof his Ethics.\" I am far from approving this judgment, but I think that\nthe shock which a young scholar receives on seeing his idols so\nmercilessly broken is salutary. It throws him back on his own resources;\nit makes him honest to himself. If he thinks the criticism thus passed\non Aristotle unfair, he will begin to read his works with new eyes. He\nwill not only construe his words, but try to reconstruct in his own mind\nthe thoughts so carefully elaborated by that ancient philosopher. He\nwill judge of their truth without being swayed by the authority of a\ngreat name, and probably in the end value what is valuable in Aristotle,\nor Plato, or any other great philosopher far more highly and honestly\nthan if he had never seen them trodden under foot.\n\nBut do not suppose that I look upon the Universities as purely\niconoclastic, as chiefly intended to teach us how to break the idols of\nthe schools. Far from it! But I do look upon them as meant to freshen\nthe atmosphere which we breathe at school, and to shake our mind to its\nvery roots, as a storm shakes the young oaks, not to throw them down,\nbut to make them grasp all the more firmly the hard soil of fact and\ntruth! \"_Stand upright on thy feet_\" ought to be written over the gate\nof every college, if the epidemic of uniformity and sequacity which Mill\nsaw approaching from China, and which since his time has made such rapid\nprogress Westward, is ever to be stayed.\n\nAcademic freedom is not without its dangers; but there are dangers which\nit is safer to face than to avoid. In Germany--so far as my own\nexperience goes--students are often left too much to themselves, and it\nis only the cleverest among them, or those who are personally\nrecommended, who receive from the professors that personal guidance and\nencouragement which should and could be easily extended to all.\n\nThere is too much time given in the German Universities to mere\nlecturing, and often in simply retailing to a class what each student\nmight read in books often in a far more perfect form. Lectures are\nuseful if they teach us how to teach ourselves; if they stimulate; if\nthey excite sympathy and curiosity; if they give advice that springs\nfrom personal experience; if they warn against wrong roads; if, in fact,\nthey have less the character of a show-window than of a workshop. Half\nan hour's conversation with a tutor or a professor often does more than\na whole course of lectures in giving the right direction and the right\nspirit to a young man's studies. Here I may quote the words of Professor\nHelmholtz, in full agreement with him. \"When I recall the memory of my\nown University life,\" he writes, \"and the impression which a man like\nJohannes Muller, the professor of physiology, made on us, I must set the\nhighest value on the personal intercourse with teachers from whom one\nlearns how thought works on independent heads. Whoever has come in\ncontact but once with one or several first-class men will find his\nintellectual standard changed for life.\"\n\nIn English Universities, on the contrary, there is too little of\nacademic freedom. There is not only guidance, but far too much of\nconstant personal control. It is often thought that English\nundergraduates could not be trusted with that amount of academic freedom\nwhich is granted to German students, and that most of them, if left to\nchoose their own work, their own time, their own books, and their own\nteachers, would simply do nothing. This seems to me unfair and untrue.\nMost horses, if you take them to the water, will drink; and the best way\nto make them drink is to leave them alone. I have lived long enough in\nEnglish and in German Universities to know that the intellectual fibre\nis as strong and sound in the English as in the German youth. But if you\nsupply a man, who wishes to learn swimming, with bladders--nay, if you\ninsist on his using them--he will use them, but he will probably never\nlearn to swim. Take them away, on the contrary, and depend on it, after\na few aimless strokes and a few painful gulps, he will use his arms and\nhis legs, and he will swim. If young men do not learn to use their arms,\ntheir legs, their muscles, their senses, their brain, and their heart\ntoo, during the bright years of their University life, when are they to\nlearn it? True, there are thousands who never learn it, and who float\nhappily on through life buoyed up on mere bladders. The worst that can\nhappen to them is that some day the bladders may burst, and they may be\nleft stranded or drowned. But these are not the men whom England wants\nto fight her battles. It has often been pointed out of late that many of\nthose who, during this century, have borne the brunt of the battle in\nthe intellectual warfare in England, have not been trained at our\nUniversities, while others who have been at Oxford and Cambridge, and\nhave distinguished themselves in after-life, have openly declared that\nthey attended hardly any lectures in college, or that they derived no\nbenefit from them. What can be the ground of that? Not that there is\nless work done at Oxford than at Leipzig, but that the work is done in a\ndifferent spirit. It is free in Germany; it has now become almost\ncompulsory in England. Though an old professor myself, I like to attend,\nwhen I can, some of the professorial lectures in Germany; for it is a\nreal pleasure to see hundreds of young faces listening to a teacher on\nthe history of art, on modern history, on the science of language, or on\nphilosophy, without any view to examinations, simply from love of the\nsubject or of the teacher. No one who knows what the real joy of\nlearning is, how it lightens all drudgery and draws away the mind from\nmean pursuits, can see without indignation that what ought to be the\nfreest and happiest years in a man's life should often be spent between\ncramming and examinations.\n\nAnd here I have at last mentioned the word, which to many friends of\nacademic freedom, to many who dread the baneful increase of uniformity,\nmay seem the cause of all mischief, the most powerful engine for\nintellectual levelling--_Examination_.\n\nThere is a strong feeling springing up everywhere against the tyranny of\nexaminations, against the cramping and withering influence which they\nare supposed to exercise on the youth of England. I cannot join in that\noutcry. I well remember that the first letters which I ventured to\naddress to the _Times_, in very imperfect English, were in favour of\nexaminations. They were signed _La Carriere ouverte_, and were written\nlong before the days of the Civil Service Commission! I well remember,\ntoo, that the first time I ventured to speak, or rather to stammer, in\npublic, was in favour of examinations. That was in 1857, at Exeter, when\nthe first experiment was made, under the auspices of Sir T. Acland, in\nestablishing the Oxford and Cambridge Local Examinations. I have been an\nexaminer myself for many years, I have watched the growth of that system\nin England from year to year, and in spite of all that has been said and\nwritten of late against examinations, I confess I do not see how it\nwould be possible to abolish them, and return to the old system of\nappointment by patronage.\n\nBut though I have not lost my faith in examinations, I cannot conceal\nthe fact that I am frightened by the manner in which they are conducted,\nand by the results which they produce. As you are interested yourselves\nat this Midland Institute, in the successful working of examinations,\nyou will perhaps allow me in conclusion to add a few remarks on the\nsafeguards necessary for the efficient working of examinations.\n\nAll examinations are a means to ascertain how pupils have been taught;\nthey ought never to be allowed to become the end for which pupils are\ntaught.\n\nTeaching with a view to examinations lowers the teacher in the eyes of\nhis pupils; learning with a view to examinations is apt to produce\nshallowness and dishonesty.\n\nWhatever attractions learning possesses in itself, and whatever efforts\nwere formerly made by boys at school from a sense of duty, all this is\nlost if they once imagine that the highest object of all learning is\ngaining marks in examinations.\n\nIn order to maintain the proper relation between teacher and pupil, all\npupils should be made to look to their teachers as their natural\nexaminers and fairest judges, and therefore in every examination the\nreport of the teacher ought to carry the greatest weight. This is the\nprinciple followed abroad in all examinations of candidates at public\nschools; and even in their examination on leaving school, which gives\nthem the right to enter the University, they know that their success\ndepends far more on the work which they have done during the years at\nschool, than on the work done on the few days of their examination.\nThere are outside examiners appointed by Government to check the work\ndone at schools and during the examinations; but the cases in which they\nhave to modify or reverse the award of the master are extremely rare,\nand they are felt to reflect seriously on the competency or impartiality\nof the school authorities.\n\nTo leave examinations entirely to strangers reduces them to the level of\nlotteries, and fosters a cleverness in teachers and taught often akin to\ndishonesty. An examiner may find out what a candidate knows _not_, he\ncan hardly ever find out all he knows; and even if he succeeds in\nfinding out _how much_ a candidate knows, he can never find out _how_ he\nknows it. On these points the opinion of the masters who have watched\ntheir pupils for years is indispensable for the sake of the examiner,\nfor the sake of the pupils, and for the sake of their teachers.\n\nI know I shall be told that it would be impossible to trust the masters,\nand to be guided by their opinion, because they are interested parties.\nNow, first of all, there are far more honest men in the world than\ndishonest, and it does not answer to legislate as if all schoolmasters\nwere rogues. It is enough that they should know that their reports would\nbe scrutinized, to keep even the most reprobate of teachers from bearing\nfalse witness in favour of their pupils.\n\nSecondly, I believe that unnecessary temptation is now being placed\nbefore all parties concerned in examinations. The proper reward for a\ngood examination should be honour, not pounds, shillings, and pence. The\nmischief done by pecuniary rewards offered in the shape of scholarships\nand exhibitions at school and University, begins to be recognized very\nwidely. To train a boy of twelve for a race against all England is\ngenerally to overstrain his faculties, and often to impair his\nusefulness in later life; but to make him feel that by his failure he\nwill entail on his father the loss of a hundred a year, and on his\nteacher the loss of pupils, is simply cruel at that early age.\n\nIt is always said that these scholarships and exhibitions enable the\nsons of poor parents to enjoy the privilege of the best education in\nEngland, from which they would otherwise be debarred by the excessive\ncostliness of our public schools. But even this argument, strong as it\nseems, can hardly stand, for I believe it could be shown that the\nmajority of those who are successful in obtaining scholarships and\nexhibitions at school or at University are boys whose parents have been\nable to pay the highest price for their children's previous education.\nIf all these prizes were abolished, and the funds thus set free used to\nlessen the price of education at school and in college, I believe that\nthe sons of poor parents would be far more benefited than by the present\nsystem. It might also be desirable to lower the school-fees in the case\nof the sons of poor parents, who were doing well at school from year to\nyear; and, in order to guard against favouritism, an examination,\nparticularly _viva voce_, before all the masters of a school, possibly\neven with some outside examiner, might be useful. But the present system\nbids fair to degenerate into mere horse-racing, and I shall not wonder\nif, sooner or later, the two-year olds entered for the race have to be\nwatched by their trainer that they may not be overfed or drugged against\nthe day of the race. It has come to this, that schools are bidding for\nclever boys in order to run them in the races, and in France, I read,\nthat parents actually extort money from schools by threatening to take\naway the young racers that are likely to win the Derby.[18]\n\nIf we turn from the schools to the Universities we find here, too, the\nsame complaints against over-examination. Now it seems to me that every\nUniversity, in order to maintain its position, has a perfect right to\ndemand two examinations, but no more: one for admission, the other for a\ndegree. Various attempts have been made in Germany, in Russia, in\nFrance, and in England to change and improve the old academic tradition,\nbut in the end the original, and, as it would seem, the natural system,\nhas generally proved its wisdom and reasserted its right.\n\nIf a University surrenders the right of examining those who wish to be\nadmitted, the tutors will often have to do the work of schoolmasters,\nand the professors can never know how high or how low they should aim in\ntheir public lectures. Besides this, it is almost inevitable, if the\nUniversities surrender the right of a matriculation-examination, that\nthey should lower, not only their own standard, but likewise the\nstandard of public schools. Some Universities, on the contrary, like\nover-anxious mothers, have multiplied examinations so as to make quite\nsure, at the end of each term or each year that the pupils confided to\nthem have done at least some work. This kind of forced labour may do\nsome good to the incorrigibly idle, but it does the greatest harm to all\nthe rest. If there is an examination at the end of each year, there can\nbe no freedom left for any independent work. Both teachers and taught\nwill be guided by the same pole-star--examinations; no deviation from\nthe beaten track will be considered safe, and all the pleasure derived\nfrom work done for its own sake, and all the just pride and joy, which\nthose only know who have ever ventured out by themselves on the open sea\nof knowledge, must be lost.\n\nWe must not allow ourselves to be deceived by the brilliant show of\nexamination papers.\n\nIt is certainly marvellous what an amount of knowledge candidates will\nproduce before their examiners; but those who have been both examined\nand examiners know best how fleeting that knowledge is, and how\ndifferent from that other knowledge which has been acquired slowly and\nquietly, for its own sake, for our own sake, without a thought as to\nwhether it would ever pay at examinations or not. A candidate, after\ngiving most glibly the dates and the titles of the principal works of\nCobbett, Gibbon, Burke, Adam Smith, and David Hume, was asked whether he\nhad ever seen any of their writings, and he had to answer, No. Another,\nwho was asked which of the works of Pheidias he had seen, replied that\nhe had only read the first two books. That is the kind of dishonest\nknowledge which is fostered by too frequent examinations. There are two\nkinds of knowledge, the one that enters into our very blood, the other\nwhich we carry about in our pockets. Those who read for examinations\nhave generally their pockets cram full; those who work on quietly and\nhave their whole heart in their work are often discouraged at the small\namount of their knowledge, at the little life-blood they have made. But\nwhat they have learnt has really become their own, has invigorated their\nwhole frame, and in the end they have often proved the strongest and\nhappiest men in the battle of life.\n\nOmniscience is at present the bane of all our knowledge. From the day he\nleaves school and enters the University a man ought to make up his mind\nthat in many things he must remain either altogether ignorant, or be\nsatisfied with knowledge at second-hand. Thus only can he clear the deck\nfor action. And the sooner he finds out what his own work is to be, the\nmore useful and delightful will be his life at University and later.\nThere are few men who have a passion for all knowledge, there is hardly\none who has not a hobby of his own. Those so-called hobbies ought to be\nutilized, and not, as they are now, discouraged, if we wish our\nUniversities to produce more men like Faraday, Carlyle, Grote, or\nDarwin. I do not say that in an examination for a University degree a\nminimum of what is now called general culture should not be insisted on;\nbut in addition to that, far more freedom ought to be given to the\nexaminer to let each candidate produce his own individual work. This is\ndone to a far greater extent in Continental than in English\nUniversities, and the examinations are therefore mostly confided to the\nmembers of the _Senatus Academicus_, consisting of the most experienced\nteachers, and the most eminent representatives of the different branches\nof knowledge in the University. Their object is not to find out how many\nmarks each candidate may gain by answering a larger or smaller number of\nquestions, and then to place them in order before the world like so many\norgan pipes. They want to find out whether a man, by the work he has\ndone during his three or four years at University, has acquired that\nvigour of thought, that maturity of judgment, and that special\nknowledge, which fairly entitle him to an academic status, to a degree,\nwith or without special honours. Such a degree confers no material\nadvantages;[19] it does not entitle its holder to any employment in\nChurch or State; it does not vouch even for his being a fit person to be\nmade an Archbishop or Prime Minister. All this is left to the later\nstruggle for life; and in that struggle it seems as if those who, after\nhaving surveyed the vast field of human knowledge, have settled on a few\nacres of their own and cultivated them as they were never cultivated\nbefore, who have worked hard and have tasted the true joy and happiness\nof hard work, who have gladly listened to others, but always depended on\nthemselves, were, after all, the men whom great nations delighted to\nfollow as their royal leaders in their onward march towards greater\nenlightenment, greater happiness, and greater freedom.\n\nTo sum up. No one can read Mill's Essay \"On Liberty\" at the present\nmoment without feeling that even during the short period of the last\ntwenty years the cause which he advocated so strongly and passionately,\nthe cause of individual freedom, has made rapid progress, aye, has\ncarried the day. In no country _may_ a man be so entirely himself, so\ntrue to himself and yet loyal to society, as in England.\n\nBut, although the enemy whose encroachments Mill feared most and\nresented most has been driven back and forced to keep within his own\nbounds,--though such names as Dissent and Nonconformity, which were\nformerly used in society as fatal darts, seem to have lost all the\npoison which they once contained,--Mill's principal fears have\nnevertheless not been belied, and the blight of uniformity which he saw\napproaching with its attendant evils of feebleness, indifference, and\nsequacity, has been spreading more widely than ever in his days.\n\nIt has even been maintained that the very freedom which every individual\nnow enjoys has been detrimental to the growth of individuality; that you\nmust have an Inquisition if you want to see martyrs; that you must have\ndespotism and tyranny to call forth heroes. The very measures which Mill\nand his friends advocated so warmly, compulsory education and\ncompetitive examinations, are pointed out as having chiefly contributed\nto produce that large array of pass-men, that dead level of\nuninteresting excellence, which is the _beau ideal_ of a Chinese\nMandarin, while it frightened and disheartened such men as Humboldt,\nTocqueville, and John Stuart Mill.\n\nThere may be some truth in all this, but it is certainly not the whole\ntruth. Education, as it has to be carried on, whether in elementary or\nin public schools, is no doubt a heavy weight which might well press\ndown the most independent spirit; it is, in fact, neither more nor less\nthan placing, in a systematized form, on the shoulders of every\ngeneration the ever-increasing mass of knowledge, experience, custom,\nand tradition that has been accumulated by former generations. We need\nnot wonder, therefore, if in some schools all spring, all vigour, all\njoyousness of work is crushed out under that load of names and dates, of\nanomalous verbs and syntactic rules, of mathematical formulas and\ngeometrical axioms, which boys are expected to bring up for competitive\nexaminations.\n\nBut a remedy has been provided, and we are ourselves to blame if we do\nnot avail ourselves of it to the fullest extent. Europe erected its\nUniversities, and called them the homes of the Liberal Arts, and\ndetermined that between the slavery of the school and the routine of\npractical life every man should have at least three years of freedom.\nWhat Socrates and his great pupil Plato had done for the youth of\nGreece,[20] these new academies were to do for the youth of Italy,\nFrance, England, Spain, and Germany; and, though with varying success,\nthey have done it. The mediaeval and modern Universities have been from\ncentury to century the homes of free thought. Here the most eminent men\nhave spent their lives, not merely in retailing traditional knowledge,\nas at school, but in extending the frontiers of science in all\ndirections. Here, in close intercourse with their teachers, or under\ntheir immediate guidance, generation after generation of boys, fresh\nfrom school, have grown up into men during the three years of their\nacademic life. Here, for the first time, each man has been encouraged to\ndare to be himself, to follow his own tastes, to depend on his own\njudgment, to try the wings of his mind, and, lo, like young eagles\nthrown out of their nest, they could fly. Here the old knowledge\naccumulated at school was tested, and new knowledge acquired straight\nfrom the fountain-head. Here knowledge ceased to be a mere burden, and\nbecame a power invigorating the whole mind, like snow which during\nwinter lies cold and heavy on the meadows, but when it is touched by the\nsun of spring melts away, and fructifies the ground for a rich harvest.\n\nThat was the original purpose of the Universities; and the more they\ncontinue to fulfil that purpose the more will they secure to us that\nreal freedom from tradition, from custom, from mere opinion and\nsuperstition, which can be gained by independent study only; the more\nwill they foster that \"human development in its richest diversity\" which\nMill, like Humboldt, considered as the highest object of all society.\n\nSuch academic teaching need not be confined to the old Universities.\nThere is many a great University that sprang from smaller beginnings\nthan your Midland Institute. Nor is it necessary, in order to secure the\nreal benefits of academic teaching, to have all the paraphernalia of a\nUniversity, its colleges and fellowships, its caps and gowns. What is\nreally wanted are men who have done good work in their life, and who are\nwilling to teach others how to work for themselves, how to think for\nthemselves, how to judge for themselves. That is the true academic stage\nin every man's life, when he learns to work, not to please others, be\nthey schoolmasters or examiners, but to please himself, when he works\nfrom sheer love of work, and for the highest of all purposes, the\nconquest of truth. Those only who have passed through that stage know\nthe real blessings of work. To the world at large they may seem mere\ndrudges--but the world does not know the triumphant joy with which the\ntrue mountaineer, high above clouds and mountain walls that once seemed\nunsurpassable, drinks in the fresh air of the High Alps, and away from\nthe fumes, the dust, and the noises of the city, revels alone, in\nfreedom of thought, in freedom of feeling, and in the freedom of the\nhighest faith.\n\n    F. MAX MULLER.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] An Address delivered on the 20th October, before the Birmingham and\nMidland Institute.\n\n[2] Mill tells us that his Essay \"On Liberty\" was planned and written\ndown in 1854. It was in mounting the steps of the Capitol in January,\n1855, that the thought first arose of converting it into a volume, and\nit was not published till 1859. The author, who in his Autobiography\nspeaks with exquisite modesty of all his literary performances, allows\nhimself one single exception when speaking of his Essay \"On Liberty.\"\n\"None of my writings,\" he says, \"have been either so carefully composed\nor so sedulously corrected as this.\" Its final revision was to have been\nthe work of the winter of 1858 to 1859 which he and his wife had\narranged to pass in the South of Europe, a hope which was frustrated by\nhis wife's death. \"The 'Liberty,'\" he writes, \"is likely to survive\nlonger than anything else that I have written (with the possible\nexception of the 'Logic'), because the conjunction of her mind with mine\nhas rendered it a kind of philosophic textbook of a single truth, which\nthe changes progressively taking place in modern society tend to bring\nout into stronger relief: the importance, to man and society, of a large\nvariety of character, and of giving full freedom to human nature to\nexpand itself in innumerable and conflicting directions.\"\n\n[3] Herzen defined Nihilism as \"the most perfect freedom from all\nsettled concepts, from all inherited restraints and impediments which\nhamper the progress of the Occidental intellect with the historical drag\ntied to its foot.\"\n\n[4] Ueber die Akademische Freiheit der Deutschen Universitaten, Rede\nbeim Antritt des Rectorats an der Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universitat in\nBerlin, am 15 October 1877, gehalten von Dr. H. Helmholtz.\n\n[5] Ueber eine Akademie der Deutschen Sprache, p. 34. Another keen\nobserver of English life, Dr. K. Hillebrand, in an article in the\nOctober number of the _Nineteenth Century_, remarks: \"Nowhere is there\ngreater individual liberty than in England, and nowhere do people\nrenounce it more readily of their own accord.\"\n\n[6] Spencer Hardy, \"Manual of Buddhism,\" p. 391.\n\n[7] _Ibid._, p. 39.\n\n[8] \"As one generation dies and gives way to another, the heir of the\nconsequences of all its virtues and all its vices, the exact result of\npre-existent causes, so each individual, in the long chain of life,\ninherits all, of good or evil, which all its predecessors have done or\nbeen; and takes up the struggle towards enlightenment precisely there\nwhere they left it.\"--Rhys Davids, _Buddhism_, p. 104.\n\n[9] Bunsen, \"Egypt,\" ii., pp. 77, 150.\n\n[10] Memoire sur l'Origine Egyptienne de l'Alphabet Phenicien, par E. de\nRouge, Paris, 1874.\n\n[11] See Brandis, \"Das Munzwesen.\"\n\n[12] \"Is it not almost a self-evident axiom, that the State should\nrequire and compel the education, up to a certain standard, of every\nhuman being who is born its citizen? Yet who is there that is not afraid\nto recognize and assert this truth?\"--_On Liberty_, p. 188.\n\n[13] _Times_, January 25, 1879.\n\n[14] \"Sacred Books of the East,\" edited by M. M., vols. i., ii., iii.;\nClarendon Press, Oxford, 1879.\n\n[15] \"Computation or Logic,\" t. iii., viii., p. 36.\n\n[16] Lectures on Mr. Darwin's \"Philosophy of Language,\" _Fraser's\nMagazine_, June, 1873, p. 26.\n\n[17] Prantl, \"Geschichte der Logik,\" vol. i. p. 121.\n\n[18] L. Noire, \"Padagogisches Skizzenbuch,\" p. 157; \"Todtes Wissen.\"\n\n[19] Mill, \"On Liberty,\" p. 193.\n\n[20] Zeller, \"Ueber den wissenschaftlichen Unterricht bei den Griechen,\"\n1878, p. 9.\n\n\n\n\nMR. GLADSTONE.\n\nTWO STUDIES SUGGESTED BY HIS \"GLEANINGS OF PAST YEARS.\"\n\n    _Gleanings of Past Years: 1843-1878._ By the Right Hon. W. E.\n    GLADSTONE, M.P. Seven vols. London: John Murray.\n\n\nI.\n\nLord Beaconsfield and his party are still holding on. All the\nover-praised Disraelian craft has dwindled somehow to this merely\nmuscular operation. An attempt is, indeed, made to disguise the attitude\nby keeping strict silence, and arranging the facial expression of the\nCabinet, if not of the Party, in a way not agreeing with the strain; but\nthe country is fast finding out that the real posture of the\nConservatives at this moment is that of clutching at office, and nothing\nmore. However, no amount of not talking about the elections will put\nthem off finally. In his most efficient days Lord Beaconsfield was\nhardly clever enough to operate upon the almanack, and a certain\nterrible date is approaching upon him with increasing swiftness. It will\nbe rather humiliating at last for a Premier to be brought up by the day\nof the month, and to be reminded by the great officials of Parliament\nwhat year of Our Lord it is. But these latter personages are partly paid\nfor watching the efflux of time, and no doubt they will do their duty.\nIt may be unpleasant for them to have to tell Lord Beaconsfield that\ndates make it impossible for him to go on any longer, but they must get\nwhat consolation they can from the remembrance that it is the first time\nthey ever had to say this to a Minister. Several Parliaments in our\nhistory have been nicknamed rather uglily, but it is likely that the\nBeaconsfield House of Commons will be known under a description more\nhumiliating than any, because so inescapeably accurate. It will\nliterally be the run-to-the-last-dregs Parliament, and when, on there\nnot being another moment left, the dissolution has necessarily to be\nordered, the not-any-longer-to-be-put-off elections will take place.\n\nWhen that unpostponeable day comes, it is very well known beforehand\nwhose will be the most towering figure on the hustings, whose the form\ntowards which all eyes must turn. It will be that of him whose name is\nwritten at the head of this paper--Mr. Gladstone. Most Englishmen will\nat first feel a crick in the neck in having to look behind them so far\nnorth as Midlothian. But Liberals and Conservatives alike understand\nthat wherever Mr. Gladstone chooses to take up his position that becomes\nthe centre of the fight. If he stood for the Orkneys, he would still be\ntoo near for his opponents; and, as for his friends, they remember that\nwith Ulysses' bow it did not greatly signify whether the hero was a few\nyards further off or nearer. The bolts will reach. It is, indeed, not\nunlikely that Mr. Gladstone may force on the conflict, and, after the\nspeech at Chester, the other side cannot say that they were left without\nwarning. The Conservative leaders have, in fact, a nearer date to\ncalculate than the final one of the Parliamentary calendar--that,\nnamely, of Mr. Gladstone's appearance in Midlothian. It may be supposed\nthat they are already anxiously counting the days of the dwindling\ninterval. Whenever he gives instructions for his hustings to be put up,\nthe Conservatives will have to send for their own carpenters, and order\nplanks.\n\nThe present moment, while he is temporarily absent, and just before he\nagain necessarily reappears in the very front of the public stage, may\nnot be an ill time for taking a hasty review of him and his career. It\nis, in fact, a favourable chance. Mr. Gladstone, by stress of glorious\nhard work and sheer public efficiency, has so unceasingly filled the\npassing hour, always being fully occupied himself in dealing with a\nspecial matter, and enforcing the attention of the nation to it, that he\nhas left people very little at leisure to take in a retrospect of him.\nThe result is, that there is great inadequacy in the public appreciation\nof the dimensions of his career; it stretches back further, expands\nwider, rises higher than most of us commonly keep in our minds. Lately,\nit is true, Mr. Gladstone has taken great pains to remind the country of\nhis years; he has rather ostentatiously postured as an old man. But\nwithout meaning to impugn his veracity, or to dispute the register, we\nmay say that he has scarcely got anybody to believe it. He has gone on\nfelling trees, writing letters and articles, and publishing volumes,\nwith utterances of more and better speeches between than anybody else\ncan make, in a way which has led not a few to congratulate themselves\nthat he was not any younger. In particular, his opponents, so soon as\nthey found out that his announcement of retirement into ease meant that\nhe was going to take the truest rest of all, to work a little harder in\nanother kind of way, positively made an outcry as if he had pledged\nhimself to gratify them by doing nothing. They seem rather to complain\nthat he has retired into greater publicity; but there is something to be\nsaid about that matter. The implied bargain on Mr. Gladstone's side at\nthe time obviously was that the Conservatives were themselves not to do\nanything in particular. It was to be a time of stagnation, and they have\nnot kept to that understanding; no sooner had he turned his back than\nthey began to swagger up and down the world as Imperialists. They have\nrisked the highest interests of the empire and have made England figure\non the wrong side, arrayed against the oppressed and blustering for war.\nMr. Gladstone could only keep quiet by foregoing all patriotism. It was\ntoo much to ask from an old-fashioned English statesman, who had always\nhimself stood on the side of freedom and peace, and had grown accustomed\nto seeing his country ranged there too. However, we will speak again a\nlittle later on this point of his announced retirement.\n\nIt is nearly superfluous to remind any one that there is no statesman\nnow before the public with an official record which can in any way be\nset beside Mr. Gladstone's even in the mere matters of length of time\nand diversity of parts. There are a number of men in the House of\nCommons older than Mr. Gladstone; there are some, though not many, who\nhave had a seat in it longer than he has; but there is no one whose\nMinisterial life goes back nearly so far. He held office forty-five\nyears ago. Nearly a score of years had to pass after his first\nappointment to a post before Mr. Disraeli joined a Ministry, and then he\nstepped into the place which had been refused by Mr. Gladstone. The\nlatter's range of official experience excels others in breadth even more\nthan in length. Before he became Prime Minister he had been\nUnder-Secretary for the Colonies, Vice-President of the Board of Trade\nand Master of the Mint, President of the Board of Trade, full Secretary\nfor the Colonies, and Chancellor of the Exchequer more than once. There\nis no other journeyman politician with a stroke of work left in him who\nhas anything like this list of credentials of apprenticeship to show.\nMr. Gladstone learnt his craft under Peel, Aberdeen, Palmerston,\nRussell; and then himself became the selecter and instructor of a group\nof younger men for whom renewed office is only biding a not very distant\ndate. It is an honour alike to name the men he served under and those\nwhom he commanded; including in the association with him some whom he\nattracted, and to whom the latter phrase might scarcely fully apply; for\nMr. Cobden worked with him without an office, and Mr. Bright in one.\nThese latter were achievements of personal influence which may fairly\nrank a trifle higher than merely taking precedence of a Duke in a\nCabinet. If we go on to consider what has happened in his time in the\nway of legislation and social reform, and his connection with it, it may\nbe said, speaking generally, that he has witnessed the political and\neconomical remoulding of this kingdom; and, taking all things together,\nhas helped it forward in more ways than anybody else who still survives.\nIf while Mr. Bright lives his name must always have the honour of first\nmention when the Repeal of the Corn Laws is spoken of, it was Mr.\nGladstone who wrought out all the details of Peel's fiscal reforms. He\ntoo it was who, much later, gave effect to Cobden's negotiation of the\nFrench Commercial Treaty; and also, again, made the best bargain that\ncould be made when that first international arrangement lapsed. Every\namelioration bearing on taxation and trade in our time has been\nnaturally fated in some way to touch the hands of Mr. Gladstone. So,\ntoo, it was his conversion, or rather his progress, on the question of\nthe Franchise--proved by his bringing in of the Russell measure--which\nmade the immediate granting of the vote certain, and challenged the Tory\ntrick of the last Reform Bill. The Ballot Act, without which the vote\nwas but a sinister gift, came from his Ministry. But let us turn from\nEngland to the sister country. If Ireland is ever pacified, it will be\nthen seen that it was Mr. Gladstone who, by the Disestablishment of the\nIrish Church and by his Land Act, laid the foundations of the peace. If\nthe Roman Catholics get a University now, they will only get what he\noffered them years ago. The prosperity of Ireland is, indeed, sure some\nday to give to Mr. Gladstone's memory a splendid revenge for the\ningratitude she showed to the man who brought legislating for Ireland\ninto vogue. If we shift our regard to diplomacy, the future is still\nclearly with him in several of the chiefest international arrangements\nthis generation has witnessed. When the Berlin Treaty is cobwebbed, and\nforgotten by everybody but historians and bookworms, the Treaty of\nWashington will be a living, ruling precedent between the mighty\nEnglish-speaking nations on both sides of the Atlantic; and on the day\nthat the Turks are thrust out of Europe, and the peoples of those\nregions are settling the Eastern Question finally for themselves, the\nthen British Government, in begging somebody to take Cyprus off our\nhands, will hear a larger Greece gratefully couple Mr. Gladstone's name\nwith the cession of the Ionian Islands.\n\nIn every one of these matters Mr. Gladstone gets his good fortune with\nposterity, as we believe, from having acted on Liberal principles. It is\nthe merit of those principles that, to borrow a phrase of his own, they\nput Time on a man's side. He has trusted himself to the popular\nimpulses, which are the breezes blowing towards the future, giving\nauspicious omens by the very working out of the world's events. But if,\napart from Liberalism, he would have had not much more significance for\nthe coming generations than Lord Beaconsfield will have when his foreign\npolicy has once been undone and set aside, Mr. Gladstone must not be\ndefrauded of a tittle of his due credit. He who has done all this was\nonce a Conservative, and, to make it still more wonderful, a Peelite. Of\nthat pale group of a Parliamentary section, which never could be a\nparty, he is the only one who escaped from the vain middle region of\nineffectiveness. For a man who was once a Peelite and has never ceased\nto be a High Churchman to have gained supreme power in this country is a\npolitical miracle. It was worked by sheer mental force. Mr. Gladstone's\ngreatest feat, making all the rest possible, was the slowly but\never-ripeningly turning himself into a good, sound, robust Liberal; but\nhe not only had the wit to appreciate the inevitableness of popular\nprogress, he made himself a shaper and a helper of it in ways which\nshowed a willing adoption of its cause. For we may scrutinize his career\nmore closely than in the above rapid sketch, may look down lower than\nthese great pictorial incidents we have been recapitulating; and, if we\ndo so, we shall see a set of administrative reforms, less showy, but\nvery hard to carry, and which exhibit genuine Liberalism in the grain of\nevery one of them. It was under his auspices that the Civil Service was\nthrown open to unlimited competition; he, in spite of the Lords, with\nEarl Derby at their head, took the duty off paper, giving us cheap\nnewspapers; he consolidated the Law Courts, doing away a whole web of\nlegal artificialities; it was as his colleague that Mr. Forster gave to\nthe country its first national educational scheme; but for him Mr.\nCardwell would never have succeeded in altering the principle of our\nmilitary organization from long-period enlistments to the short-term\nservice; while Mr. Gladstone's opponents are willing to thrust upon him\nthe whole honour of abolishing purchase in the army, because they think\nthe issue of the Royal Warrant which, thanks to their resistance of the\nreform, was the only means of effecting it, lends itself to a taunt. Add\nto this list, the fact that although he, at first, for easily seen\nreasons of mere habit of mind, going back to the earlier days when he\nwas Conservative, did not favour University Reform, yet he finally lent\nhimself fully to it, and it is not difficult to understand the\nsuccessive outcries raised against him in the higher social quarters. He\ngave all the \"interests\" splendidly sufficient reasons for their\ndislike, since wherever there was an abuse Mr. Gladstone was as certain\nin the end to confront it as he is to appear, axe on his shoulder,\nbefore any tree in Hawarden woods which has lived past its time.\n\nBut there is another way, more compendious still, of summing up his\npolitical chronicle. His opponents at times exult over the fact of his\nhaving often changed his constituencies. It is true, but it was always\nfor his growing Liberalism. Certainly, there are those who once\nensconced in a shire--say, in Buckinghamshire--remain there as long as\nthey need a seat. They never offend any one by progress of view. Mr.\nGladstone has not acted by that rule; he has got himself turned out of\nconstituency after constituency; but, we repeat, it was always for the\nsame reason--he became too big for them. Among his highest distinctions\nare these,--he is the resigner of Newark, the rejected of Oxford, the\nloser of South Lancashire. The thing has occurred too often to admit of\na casual explanation. It was not for Liberalism, as it is now\nunderstood, that he, when still in his youth, offended the mighty Duke\nof Newcastle and had to give up Newark, but it was for reasoned-out\nconsistency which gave hope of Liberalism. He would not stultify his\nintellect by voting for Peel's proposed increase of the Maynooth Grant\nin contradiction of his own book on Church and State. But all the world\nknows that it was for Liberalism somewhat developed that he quitted\nOxford; and the cause of his defeat in Lancashire was that he had for\nyears been too busy in pushing forward reforms on all hands. It was a\nnoble vanquishment for him, whatever it was for his party, for\nLancashire, or for the country. Test his career how we will, the result\nstill comes out to his honour. He, for conscience' sake, offended the\ngreat patron on whom his whole prospects then depended, remaining out of\nParliament for a time; later, he went over with Peel, knowing that it\nmeant an ineffective hanging between two parties for an indefinite time,\nsharing the hopes and chances of neither; when Lord Derby came into\npower, he refused office on its being offered. In a word, he has\nevidenced his sincerity and proved his patriotism in every way for which\nit is allowed to other men to claim honour. When a man has risked\npersonal prospects, refused place, held office in all its kinds, left\none lagging constituency after another behind him, and finally, by sheer\ninsisting on rapid progress, temporarily wearied the weak and lazy of\nhis countrymen throughout the whole nation, as the last general election\nshowed that he had, what more is there left for him to do for his\ncountry? Only one thing remained: the sacrificing his retirement after\nthe formal announcement of the close of his career, and, afresh taking\nup his old post in the front of the battle as if he were still young and\nhad place and public life to secure, striving his hardest a last time\nfor the sake of his principles and his party. It is this final\npossibility of sacrificing ease and renewing labour which Mr. Gladstone\nundertakes in the Midlothian campaign now so very soon to be opened by\nhim.\n\nThe above is the merest bird's-eye glance at his career, but it seemed\nto us a retrospect which all Liberals should have in their minds more\ncompletely than is common when he again draws to him the national gaze,\nas he of necessity will do.\n\nBut on reading back, how inadequate does the above record seem for Mr.\nGladstone! It is simply the background of the picture; a field of\nindustry and achievements, on which the portraiture of the man himself\nneeds yet making to stand out. We have been speaking of the ex-Premier,\nfor instance, just as we might talk of any politician, and Mr.\nGladstone, though our chiefest politician, has throughout been so much\nmore than that. It is perfectly true that there is no public man among\nus who has projected less of a special atmosphere of personality than he\nhas through which his doings are to be beheld. He has been too busy with\nhis work to think of any attitudinizing or trick in doing it. Mr.\nGladstone's only mannerism has been that of superior excellence of\nthinking, speaking, and doing. Anybody else might have done and said\nwhat he has uttered and effected, if only they had had the same ability\nand industry. His one comprehensive distinction, summing up all the\nothers, lies in his having developed more of these two simple,\nold-fashioned things than his best contemporaries. He has invented no\nmysteries, traded in no artificialities, given us no pyrotechnics; only\na plain common air lies along his track, in which, if we perhaps except\ntwo or three points where a little mist hangs, everything can be clearly\nseen in white light, without exaggeration or distortion. His whole style\nhas been the old traditionary English one, accentuated only by Scotch\nearnestness and seriousness of religious feeling. If Mr. Gladstone,\nhowever, has not made any eccentric or theatrical impression on the\npublic mind, he has done something larger and better. He has kept all\nthe three kingdoms continuously aware of him as an element in our\ngeneral thinking, as well as being a power in our practical affairs. If\nwe put aside Mr. Carlyle, Mr. Mill, and Mr. Ruskin, scarcely any one has\nhad so much to do with the general mental activity of the last two\ngenerations as Mr. Gladstone. The result is what we have just pointed\nout,--that if we sketch him as a statesman only, everybody sees that the\ncanvas is not big enough. It is a sufficiently full description of most\nmen who have been politicians to ascribe to them statesmanship; but in\nMr. Gladstone's case we want a yet larger phrase; his business has not\nbeen politics merely, it has been patriotism; and he has made time,\nnobody quite knows how, to do nearly as much work outside Parliament as\nwithin it. We may cut a scholar able to adorn a university out of Mr.\nGladstone, and then carve from him a fine student and reverencer of Art;\nnext mark off a reviewer and general _litterateur_ whom professed\nauthors will respectfully make room for in their ranks; and not only is\nthere still left, solid and firm, the great Parliamentary Minister, but\nof the scattered fragments a couple of Bishops might easily be made,\nwith, if nothing at all is to be wasted, several preachers for the\ndenominations. The latter would be derived from a morsel or two of\nmaterial which Mr. Gladstone himself is not fully aware of as being in\nhis composition. It is not very easy to give a complete impression\noffhand of such a multiform personage as this. We must take him a little\nsimpler. The general effect of it all has been, as we said above, that\nthe mental activity of the community in all matters relating to politics\nand practical affairs has had to take its rate and much of its scale\nlargely from him, and he has been thinking with the speed, not of the\nold jog-trot political life, but with the rapidity of ethical and\nreligious cogitation, and has insisted on giving thought to everything.\nIn fact, the ultimate impression which Mr. Gladstone has made upon the\ncommunity has been that of an intellect weaponed with a perfectly fluent\ntongue, and a hand holding the quickest of pens, occupying the very\nhighest national posts, ceaselessly going on reasoning, insisting upon\ndoing it, whether the reasoning might occasionally go wrong or not, just\nas if thinking, speaking, and writing were man's right employment. His\nchief opponents would, perhaps, hesitate in flatly saying that they were\nnot; but, at any rate, they have continually been wanting him to stop.\nNearly all the complaint that was ever made of Mr. Gladstone resolves\nitself into a charge that he has thought and spoken and written too\nmuch. The accusation is one which it would task a great many men to lay\nthemselves open to; it is never thought of in the case of the bulk of\nus. Above all, he has kept on thinking; he would use his mind. Possibly\nthe other side might have forgiven it, if only he had not done it so\nwell; if only this promptest, quickest ratiocination on the part of a\npractical politician in our times had not, as it progressed, brought him\never nearer to the conclusions of Liberalism. He has, we are, however,\nrather ashamed to admit, had to suffer from his own party for this\nunusualness of mental activity. Our practical politics for generations\npast had been carried on upon such shallow reasoning, on such a\nhand-to-mouth principle of mere party expediency, that even some\nLiberals were surprised when he brought a little subtlety of intellect\ninto public life. It was enough to make a smaller man despair of his\ncountrymen's sanity when he found that for years many of them could not\ndistinguish between an Anglican High Churchman and an admirer of Rome.\n\nTo speak plainly, there was never such a humiliating spectacle of public\nstolidity as that which for so long a time was witnessed in the popular\nmystification as to Mr. Gladstone's religious position. It went for\nnothing that his first critical Parliamentary step was to give up his\nseat rather than vote more money to Maynooth; nobody seemed to bear in\nmind that as far back as 1852 he both predicted and publicly hoped for\nthe downfall of the temporal power of the Papacy, and that ten years\nlater Sir George Bowyer openly attacked him on that very point in\nParliament; it did not avail that he it was who paved the way for the\nunification of Italy by dragging into the light before all Europe the\nprison secrets of Neapolitan tyranny. Because he had the good sense to\noppose the Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, and the loyalty to remain on\nterms of friendship with the companions of his youth after they became\nPuseyites, and avowed that he held the same views as to Church doctrine\nwhich some of the greatest Church of England divines taught, he was\ncalled on to explain, every month or so, that he was not a Jesuit. Not\nuntil he published his pamphlet on the Vatican Decrees, and by so doing\nthrew all the Roman Catholics in England and elsewhere into a white heat\nof rage, was the silliness quite exploded. It is true that the dull\npublic might plead that a real profession of religiousness on the part\nof a leading politician was such a novelty that it might be excused\nbeing a little puzzled, and believing the worst in its perplexity. Worst\nor best, Mr. Gladstone has gone on speaking and writing about his\nreligion just as if a man's ethics and faith ought to have some\nconnection with his politics, and, as time has passed, people appear to\nthink it less strange. This non-reticence on the score of religion has\nmade more serious the impression Mr. Gladstone has produced upon the\npublic mind; but in reality it is no specialty in his mode of public\nthinking, but only a necessary part of it. He tracks his commonest\npolitics to their fundamental principles, and makes of them a system. He\nhas always in his reasoning to go back to history, and this has delayed\nhis advance in comparison with men who dispense with that; but there\nnever yet was a public man who explained so fully as Mr. Gladstone the\nreasons of his changes. All the progress of his mind is to be traced in\nspeeches, articles, pamphlets, volumes. He has given too much\nexplanation, not too little, for his mind has an insatiability for\nreasons. Most people are content when they get hold of a good one; but\nhe wants three or four--in fact, all that can be got by searching for;\nand if it be true, as it certainly is, that he likes the last to have a\nlittle subtlety about it, long-sustained thinking cannot take people too\ndeep in politics, whatever it may do now and then in religion. For\ninstance, on the question of Reform Mr. Gladstone has certainly\nexhausted the process, having at last got at the final ideal argument.\nIt turns out, as he stated it to Mr. Lowe, to be this,--that, apart\nfrom, or rather in addition to, all the hard reasons of justice and\nsafety that Mr. Bright can urge for extending the franchise, the vote\nought to be given because it has an educative power, and will make our\nhumbler fellow-countrymen better citizens. It is open to any one, who is\nstupid enough, to call that argument subtle, but no one can deny that it\nis truly Liberal. There is not a man among us to-day who keeps the main\nLiberal issues so broad and clear as Mr. Gladstone does, and this simply\nbecause he will get to a principle. He adds a tremendous multiplicity of\nideas in the way of side issues, but, as we above put it, they are all\nreasons in addition. There is a very simple test of it,--he has never\nrecanted a single article of his Liberal progress, never gone back a\nsingle step. This hardly can be said of either Mr. Lowe or a few others\nwho might be named. It could not even be said of so thorough a Liberal\nas Earl Russell. Mr. Gladstone's alleged over-refining has ended in\nplacing and keeping him in the practical lead of his party, at a time of\nlife when many born in the faith grow faint-hearted. Even the one bit of\nmysticism which his political feeling has developed--namely, the belief\nthat the popular judgment is truest of all in very large matters--is\nonly the full flowering of the popular trust which every Liberal\nprofesses to have. The bulk of the nation will forgive him that excess\nof political belief, if it be an excess, for it is the last compliment a\nstatesman can pay them, and they have but to merit it, and it then turns\nto Mr. Gladstone's praise as well as theirs. But, at any rate, it will\nnot do for Liberals to set out to argue the point with Mr. Gladstone, or\nthey will quickly find themselves tripped up by a principle; for it is\nno sentimentality in him which underlies the view, but completed logic\nand wide recollection of historical instances.\n\nIndeed, although it was necessary in trying to reproduce the general\nimpression Mr. Gladstone has made upon his contemporaries to speak of\nthis alleged over-refining, what is meant by it has been after all a\nkind of superfluity of mental operation. His intricacy of thinking has\nnever hindered his activity; least of all living men has Mr. Gladstone\nbeen a dreamer. He stands in history as a reviser of fiscal policies; an\nintroducer of new administrative modes; a widener of the boundaries of\npolitical rights; a ceaseless overthrower of public abuses. From first\nto last he has been, as the hatred of his opponents has too well\nwitnessed, a man of practice. You may add to this that he reasons too\nminutely, if you like; but it was not by a transcendental casuistry of\npolitics that he wearied the country: it was by his enormous energy in\nceaselessly proposing wide sweeping measures. The casuistry was all in\naddition. The over-refining of Mr. Gladstone has, in fact, been of a\nwholly different kind from what is common among men; it has consisted in\nfinding justifications afterwards for very prompt vigorous doing.\nExamine, if any one thinks it worth while at this time of day, the\nEwelme Rectory case, or the issue of the Royal Warrant on Purchase, or\nthe Collier appointment, and it will appear that it was for bold\ndecision in taking a practical step that he was arraigned as much as for\nsubsequently finding too many reasons for it. For ourselves, as we have\nnot set out to apologize for Mr. Gladstone (men of his dimensions must\nbe taken as they are), but simply to put down hints recalling more fully\nthan is usual the great features of his career, there is no need for our\nnot saying that we wish he had in some cases dispensed with these\narguments in excess of the conclusion. In some instances it is as wise\nafter all, though not so clever, to be satisfied with urging one good\nreason, and not to confuse ordinary people by adding five or six more\nnot so good, the risk being that there will be a bad one among them. But\nthe fact remains that Mr. Gladstone has not busied himself in tying\nmental knots for the purpose of entanglement; he has indulged in no such\nwaste of time. The mental puzzle has always referred to some practical\ndoing. Owing to this, his opponents have had to admit his mental\nsincerity, while accusing him of over-subtlety. It nearly all turned, in\nfact, into the psychological question of whether Mr. Gladstone's mind\nhad not at one part of its machinery a twist, and in the meantime while\nthis point was being discussed he went on carrying his measures. If\nthere were Liberals who did not quite follow him in his defence of the\nissue of the Royal Warrant, when he drew distinctions between\nprerogative and statutory power, they had not the least doubt that in\nabolishing purchase he had effected a capital Liberal reform, and they\nmight hope that his reasoning as well as his practice was right. Is Mr.\nGladstone to be the only one to whose idiosyncrasy nothing is to be\nallowed? The hullabaloo which was raised when somebody could say that he\nhad broken through a technicality seemed very like, after all, as though\nfrom this one politician perfection was expected, which was not an ill\ncompliment at bottom; and any admirers who may admit that perfection was\nnot always got, do not, in granting that, depreciate him much as this\nworld goes, and may still think him the most upright of our public men.\nHis mental machinery is complicated, whilst there is no apparatus like\nit for rapidity, and once set going he himself cannot always stop it;\nhis mind, as we have said, riots in ratiocination, and will multiply\narguments to the last shred of the material which any case in hand\naffords. But, to return to the main point,--it never leaves go of the\nreal business. Even what has seemed to some persons his off-work, his\nvoluminous writing, has, with the one exception of his classical\nstudies, been no mere leisurely literature, but persistent advocacy of\nspecial objects. These productions have been meant to frame public\nopinion, and to give him openings for legislation, if that became\npossible. He has used the press because it had become the hugest\ninstrument of the time he lived in; but it was not for the purpose of\nmultiplying books that Mr. Gladstone wrote, but with a view to\npractically influencing men.\n\nThis relentless subordination of everything to practical ends--this iron\ndetermination to keep doing, even while ready frankly to depend upon his\npower of speaking and writing to produce conviction and popular\npersuasion as the means for effecting his objects, gives as the final\nimprint of Mr. Gladstone on one's mind that he was always meant for a\nLiberal. A man of this kind might be born a Conservative; it might take\nhim time to break fully with old ties; but for him to stay finally in\nthe ranks where thought was allowed to remain muddled, where abuses were\nlooked on with toleration, and ease was enjoyed at the cost of others,\nwas an impossibility. Mr. Gladstone, if only from the fact that he was a\nborn financier and an inveterate thinker, and a man with a passion for\npublicly talking, belonged to the Liberals from the first. His whole\nlife, too, has consistently lent itself to that style. If it has had in\nit a touch of austerity, that excellently befitted the social condition\nof the masses of our people. His gaze has been fixed too much upon them\nto be attracted by the glitter of the narrow upper circle, which so\nfoolishly persists, amidst its gaudy splendour, in believing itself the\nnation. That silliness was not for Mr. Gladstone. He has been subjected\nto some tests. If his family was not highly placed, his father was a\nbaronet, and he himself was educated at Eton and Oxford. Nobles have\nbeen among his friends at all periods of his life, as well as his\nofficial subordinates more than once in it. But he has passed the whole\nof his long career without a sparkle of the glitter of adventitious\ndisplay: that proudest title of all, which it is not in the power of the\nCrown to bestow but only to take away--\"the Great Commoner\"--has\ndescended upon him, and is still his. Then he has fenced himself off\nwith no stiffness of manner; the only dignity he has assumed has been\nthe natural seriousness of ardent sincerity, warning off triflers only.\nTo everybody else he has been accessible; any person could impose on him\nthe trouble of a written reply. His post-cards were known to be public\nproperty. But putting aside that joke, which is now worn bare, scarcely\nhas any one so fully and ungrudgingly accepted the responsibilities of\nhis position. He has been the public's faithful, ready servant in every\nparticular. Nor has it been mere complaisance, or a drudging of\nmechanical industry; he has exhibited a real faculty of interesting\nhimself in all that anybody has been doing actively and well. To say\nthat he is the only statesman who, while clinging to the Church of\nEngland, has commanded the sympathies of the Dissenters, might provoke\nan enemy, embittered by the fact, to reply that he had tactical reasons\nfor trying to do that; but it could have been nothing else than real\nwidth of mind and a robust versatility which enabled this High Churchman\nlargely to divide impartial admiration between the Evangelical party and\nthe Romanists, pointing out fully and exactly what is to be praised in\neach. Any one who wishes it can find the estimates set out in detail in\nthe third and seventh volumes of \"The Gleanings.\" This wide range of\nintellectual appreciation is really as much a characteristic of Mr.\nGladstone as has been his unyielding tenacity and doctrinal hold within\nthe limits of his personal confession of belief. He, a firm acceptor of\nthe tenets of sacramental efficacy, apostolical succession, and the\nauthority of the Church in her own sphere, could take up the\nsemi-rationalistic book \"Ecce Homo,\" and turn it round-and-round\nadmiringly as a most curious and valuable mental production. Nothing in\nwhich thought was really shown has escaped his notice, or failed to\narouse his interest. He has bent his look on Secularism, as a scientific\ninquirer might scrutinize a new species, and he has stooped to quote Mr.\nBradlaugh. In one place you will find him, very likely on the page after\ngiving a passage from Isaiah or the Psalms, citing the old poet Dunbar,\nor speaking of Rowe or Swift, or alluding to Rousseau; while long before\nit became a fashion he had words of sympathizing praise for Shelley,\nselecting, of all other places, _The Quarterly Review_ to print them in.\nBut, perhaps, the clearest proof of all, alike of his power to bear\ntestimony in spite of personal disliking, and his standing hard and fast\nupon a principle when he has reached it, is that he, whom Macaulay\nnearly half a century ago described as \"a young man of unblemished\ncharacter,\" and whom his Lordship, if he were now alive, would speak of\nas \"the old man with personal fame unspotted,\" could step aside in one\nof his articles to recognize the public debt due to Jack Wilkes as a\nhelper forward of our freedom. Wherever a national service has been\ndone, Mr. Gladstone's eulogy always has been ready.\n\nDown to this point we have not spared so much as a hint to his\nmagnificent oratory, his unsurpassed debating skill, his not infrequent\nsuccesses in literary style. These were not the things that anybody\nneeded reminding of, and that necessity was the prescribed limit of our\nself-imposed task. Who has forgotten when the expounding of the Budget\nwas the greatest intellectual treat of the Session, when sugar and\nrailway duties and tea became natural themes for eloquence, and the\nunfolding of the surplus was breathlessly waited for like the\n_denouement_ of a novelist's plot? Those scenes are long past, it is\ntrue, but the echoes of them can still be heard, for each year since has\nbrought a disappointing reminder to awaken them. But the matchless\nvigour and splendour of his debating fence has never slackened, never\nweakened; the only privilege of the older generation in respect of it,\nis that they can boast to have witnessed more of it, not to have seen\nbetter displays. As to his writings, there least of all is any reminder\nwanted, for he presents the public with an improving specimen each\nmonth. If any one laid themselves out to find fault with Mr. Gladstone's\nliterature, the very worst thing they could discover to say of it, would\nbe that it still was oratory, only written down.\n\nThis is the man who, after a few weeks of leisure, reappears next month\nin Midlothian; first in the field, as if that appearance was his by\nright of custom. How well he compares with the rest of our older party\nleaders! Mr. Bright, grown a little pursy, though also stricken by\ndomestic misfortune, rests rather inertly on his laurels, which\ncertainly are plentiful enough to invite repose; Mr. Forster has never\nsucceeded in quite finding his way out of the clauses of his own\nEducation Act, where he sees himself confronted with the Church of\nEngland at the end of so many vistas, that he is lost in admiration of\nits architecture; Mr. Goschen, by some strange weakness (which, let us\nhope, is only temporary) has got a scare from meeting the County\nFranchise wearing Joseph Arch's coat and hat; while Mr. Lowe is riding\nhobbies, bicycle-wise, in and out before the very select constituency of\nthe London University, with readers of _The Fortnightly Review_ for\noutside spectators, just by way of showing off his little feats of\nmental gymnastic. In the meanwhile, Mr. Gladstone, the veteran of them\nall, is putting on his harness for a fresh contest, a riper, better\nLiberal to-day than on any previous day of fight. It is for the younger\nmen to rally round him.\n\nBut, before taking our leave of Mr. Gladstone, we have finally to\nenlarge our view of him. Early in these remarks it seemed well to give a\nvery hasty summary of his whole career; but there remains to be\nattempted an exact sketch of his actual position in respect of opinions\nand practical relations at the moment when he ceased to be Minister. Let\nus, first of all, at this moment when a Brummagem Imperialism is only\nyet half-faded, recall what was Mr. Gladstone's opinion of the historic\nposition and natural function of England among the nations; for it has\nbeen craftily made to appear that he was willing, and indeed anxious,\nfor this country to efface itself. In 1870, when he was still at the\nheight of power, he published in _The Edinburgh Review_ his article on\n\"Germany, France, and England,\" and the following was the view he then\nput forward of the international obligations and duties of his country,\nin spite of the sea dividing us from other lands:--\n\n\"Yet we are not isolated.... With vast multitudes of persons in each of\nthe Continental countries we have constant relations, both of personal\nand commercial intercourse, which grow from year to year; and as,\nhappily, we have no conflict of interests, real or supposed, nor scope\nfor evil passions afforded by our peaceful rivalry, there is nothing to\nhinder the self-acting growth of concord.... So far from this implying\neither a condition or a policy of isolation, it marks out England as the\nappropriate object of the general confidence.... All that is wanted is\nthat she should discharge the functions, which are likely more and more\nto accrue to her, modestly, kindly, impartially.... But in order that\nshe may act fully up to a part of such high distinction, the kingdom of\nQueen Victoria must be in all things worthy of it. The world-wide cares\nand responsibilities with which the British people have charged\nthemselves are really beyond the ordinary measure of human strength; and\nuntil a recent period it seemed the opinion of our rulers that we could\nnot do better than extend them yet further, wherever an opening could\neasily, or even decently, be found. With this avidity for material\nextension was joined a preternatural and morbid sensibility. Russia at\nthe Amoor, America at the Fee-jee or the Sandwich Islands, France in New\nCaledonia or Cochin China--all these, and the like, were held to be good\nreasons for a feverish excitement lest other nations should do for\nthemselves but the fiftieth part of what we have done for ourselves....\nThe secret of strength lies in keeping some proportion between the\nburden and the back.\"\n\nIs it necessary to ask whether this is a policy combining dignified\npatriotism and prudently-restrained common sense? Compare it for a\nmoment with the gewgaw skimble-skamble diplomatic sensationalism with\nwhich we have been presented since. But let us go a little more into\ndetail as to Mr. Gladstone's standing with reference to international\nrelations. This present Government has perhaps forgotten that there is\nsuch a nation in the world as the United States of America; but Mr.\nGladstone kept it well in mind, and we suppose every one will admit that\nhe, of all statesmen, stands well with that people of our own blood, who\nvery shortly will be the most powerful community upon the earth, and the\none with whom we shall, for all time, have most to do. However, we will\nkeep within the bounds of Europe. It is the fashion now to give\nprecedence to Germany. Well, Mr. Gladstone was among the first to\npredict the success of Prussia, and she is not likely to forget who it\nwas who preserved neutrality at a moment most critical to her. Is it\nFrance that he is not on good relations with? Why this Minister, who\ninvited her wine trade, and strove unceasingly to increase commerce to\nand fro across the Channel, and who is for giving further and further\npolitical rights to his countrymen, is the only English statesman whom\nthe bulk of Frenchmen can understand. To them our Tories must be as\nantiquated as their own Royalists. Italy is a growing Power in the\nEuropean comity, and who is there among our statesmen who can in her\nfair cities arouse half the enthusiasm he can? He is, literally, the\nonly English politician they familiarly know. With Austria, it is true,\nhe during the recent war lost patience for a moment, but her conduct\nsince has told that her rulers must at the time have known that he had\ngood reasons for it; and no one has more fully appreciated the\ndifficulties of Austria's position than he has done, or was more early\nin giving her, years ago, the very counsel which she has since proved\nwas the wisest for her. There remains one other great Power to be\nnamed--Russia; the State with whom we shall have directly of necessity\nto stand face to face in the far East, and with whom terms will in the\nend have somehow to be made. It is urged against Mr. Gladstone that he\nhas not rendered himself obnoxious enough to this remaining Power--that\nis, that he did not incapacitate himself for negotiating with her, and,\nhaving postponed defiance of her, might make some peaceful arrangement.\nCan any friend of peace think this a very grievous accusation? Mr.\nGladstone has gained this position of goodwill all round at what\ncost?--that of having fallen into disfavour with the Turks. That is his\none terrible disqualification for affairs; or, if you wish to be\nprecisely exhaustive, and at the same time to elicit the absurdity\nfully, you may add to it that he has irritated the Bourbons. It is quite\ntrue, and we, indeed, wish to put it clearly forward, that he was for\nabating a little of our national swagger, and was prepared to see, and\nto welcome, advancement in other nations. But every well-grounded\nLiberal knows that it is only on those two conditions that England can\npermanently pursue her own paths of industrial development, and the\nworld make progress. Mr. Gladstone's single sin in reference to our\nexternal relations was his readiness to favour those two results.\n\nBut how does he show when a last view is taken of him from within our\npolitics? Here, again, first look to the circumference. In dealing with\nthe colonies, he was for all being put in possession of a free autonomy,\nand then urging them to self-reliance--in those ways welding them into\nthe integrity of the empire; and as to India, he insisted that we should\nstrive more and more to realize what he termed the generous conception\nof a moral trusteeship, to be administered for the benefit of those over\nwhom we rule. Here, once more, we get the true ring of a sound\nLiberalism, for those are the only principles, we venture to affirm, on\nwhich such an empire as this of ours can ever be made permanent.\nTreating the colonies as babies and biting the thumb at Russia, even\nfrom the most scientific frontier India can furnish, though you shout\n\"Empress\" from it as loudly as you will, has nothing truly English about\nit. Empire is not kept in such a mawkish, artificial manner.\n\nBut now narrow the gaze within our own home limits. The chief domestic\nquestions for the British public are these,--extension of the County\nFranchise, the Redistribution of Seats, the Disestablishment of the\nChurch, and Retrenchment of Expenditure. The Land Question will yet have\nto grow, and may not ripen in his time. But on three of the above\npending matters Mr. Gladstone stands at the very front. He is for making\nour field cultivators citizens no less than our artizans; he is for\nre-allotting members in a manner which will give us a Parliament truly\nrepresentative; and it is hardly necessary to speak of economical\nbenefits in connection with the Minister who used the nation to\nreduction of taxation and surpluses arriving together, and whose last\npromise under that head was the total abolition of the Income Tax. On\nthe other of these great domestic matters, that which stands third in\nthe above list, the Disestablishment of the Church, it has seemed to\nadvanced Liberals that Mr. Gladstone has lagged. But the lively fear of\nhis opponents on this very matter is full of hope. Since he last\ndissented from Mr. Miall's motion, he has written a very significant\nphrase in an article in this Review. In treating of \"The Courses of\nReligious Thought,\" when reviewing the churches of the United States and\nof the British Colonies he spoke of their vigorous growth, \"far from the\npossibly chilling shadow of National Establishments of Religion.\" In\nthat phrase, for a man so practical as is Mr. Gladstone,\nDisestablishment seems to cast its shadow before, and not a few persons\non the other side of the question shivered from the chilliness it made.\nBut these topics of the first class do not depend upon any one\nstatesman; the biggest of men have these capital problems thrust upon\nthem; all that you can do is to take note how a leader stands in\nreference to them. And the above is Mr. Gladstone's standing. But there\nwas another class of legislative reforms which he was the man to have\ngone in search of. In one of his most recent articles he has given us a\nhint of a dream of this kind which was in his mind. He stated it\nthus:--\"Our currency, our local government, our liquor laws, portions\neven of our taxation, remain in a state either positively disgraceful,\nor at the least inviting and demanding improvement.\" That programme of\nthe further benefits which we should have owed to Mr. Gladstone was put\naside by the giddiness of twenty-five or thirty constituencies at the\nlast elections, but it will fittingly serve to give the finishing touch\nto our presentation of him in this paper. Liberals have, in fact, to\nthank him for offering more of reform and of benefit than the country\nwould let him give it. Splendid as his achievements have been, he really\nhad others in reserve.\n\nIs it too late? is the question that naturally arises. Certainly there\nis no hope of having the five years of administration by him which we\nhave lost since 1874. That is irretrievable; and if Mr. Gladstone felt\nthen his growing years, and had a wish to finish other tasks apart from\npolitics, he is no younger now; while the aims of his purposed leisure\nmust have been greatly interfered with by his partial recall to affairs\nowing to the dangers to which freedom in Bulgaria and our own national\ncredit were exposed. It is wholly a matter for Mr. Gladstone to decide.\nIf the next elections go in favour of the Liberals, all the world knows\nthat office is there for him to take or to leave. Earl Granville, the\nDuke of Argyll, Lord Hartington would, we need not say, be among the\nfirst even to urge it as far as it was right to do so, and the whole\nparty would welcome him back to power with a shout of joy. Who knows?\nMr. Gladstone's patriotism is great, and our financial muddle will,\nalso, be very great about that time. Between the two he might be\ntempted; he may yet do us the final service of putting the national\nfinances right again. It is, we repeat, wholly for him to say. Earlier\nin this paper a further word was promised on the subject of his\nretirement; but, upon second thoughts, it scarcely seems necessary. Mr.\nGladstone was too experienced in Parliamentary doings not to know that\nthe Conservatives would take care to keep enough of their majority until\ntime itself forced them back to the unwished-for hustings. He did his\nparty not an atom of practical injury by retiring; rather, it was a good\nopportunity for giving a younger leader practice. It would be quite\nidle, on the other hand, to argue with his opponents for complaining\nthat he did not retire enough. He has made speeches, they say; he has\nwritten articles in every organ there is; he has even republished\nprevious writings. As we before said, they have themselves to blame for\nit in great measure: if they wanted Mr. Gladstone to stay in retirement,\nthey should have carefully kept quiet. Instead of that they made a noise\nbefore his door, disturbing him in his studies. What more natural than\nthat he should come out? He did so, and found that, disguised like\nharlequins in the flimsy bedizenment which they call Imperialism, they\nwere playing high jinks with Britain's reputation and the chances of\nfreedom for the oppressed in the East. It was too much for him; but if\nthey complain of the number of the weapons he attacked them with, we\nknow that it would have been impossible for him to please them there.\nThey never have been satisfied on that score. What they really find\nfault with are the blows they got.\n\nAnd there are more to come. Directly we shall have them complaining that\nhe has chosen a constituency so far away as Scotland; the real fact\nbeing that they wish he had gone much farther still. They never are\nsincere with Mr. Gladstone; he cannot please them. We leave them\nanxiously listening for his approach again unto these shores, knowing\nvery well that to their thinking they will hear his voice all too soon.\n\n    A LIBERAL.\n\n\nII.\n\nDescription is said to be only possible by comparing, and when one is\nasked to sketch Mr. Gladstone, how is it to be set about? His admirers\nwill have it that he has been a very great Minister, so that if we adopt\nthe comparative method, we ought to look high for standards. Shall we\nmatch him alongside Bismarck or Cavour? The latter, to give him\nprecedence, stands renowned for building up his country in evil days,\nwhen every omen was against her. But Mr. Gladstone, succeeding to power\nwhen England was in the full tide of prosperity and at the height of\nfame, gave up her prospects, and would have acquiesced in her decadence.\nThere is no likeness whatever between him and Cavour. Then take\nBismarck. The great German Chancellor shares with the Italian Minister\nthe glory of having widened the bounds and raised the position of his\nland, and he stands now head and shoulders above all in the midst of the\ndiplomatic world a very Colossus. But Mr. Gladstone is and has always\nbeen outside that world altogether. Prince Bismarck has his hand on all\nthe springs of action, and will let pass no chance of exalting his\ncountry. Mr. Gladstone, we repeat, never made the slightest impression\nin the regions of diplomacy; Courts did not know him, foreign statesmen\nleft him out of their reckoning of the men that had to be dealt with.\nThe great international achievements for which he has alone been talked\nof have been the surrender of British territory and the paying down of\nEnglish money lavishly to another State for preposterous claims. But it\nwill be said that it is not fair to Mr. Gladstone to compare him to\nPrince Bismarck and Count Cavour, for they were men who found their\ncountry in unusual circumstances. Look, then, to names in our own\nhistory. Pitt must not be spoken of for the reasons just allowed in the\nother cases; but there are Canning and Palmerston. How does Mr.\nGladstone look alongside them? He has himself more than once alluded to\nCanning, as if not unwilling to be thought to have received his mantle.\nIt was, however, always only in connection with Greece that he spoke of\nCanning; but that Minister looked much farther than the Mediterranean.\nOne would have thought that so fine a rhetorician as Mr. Gladstone would\nnot have forgotten the famous phrase in which Canning claimed to have\ncalled the New World into existence to redress the balance of the Old.\nLord Palmerston was without any such fine phrases, but in foreign\naffairs he acted boldly, though he had to fall back on a musty Latin\nquotation to describe it. Every Englishman, however, understood Latin\nwhen their Minister said, _Civis Romanus sum_. Yet neither of these\nMinisters at any part of their career lived in times more stirring than\nMr. Gladstone has done, nor when the interests of England were more\nendangered. He has still later had magnificent opportunities, but he did\nworse than lose them.\n\nFrom all this, it would seem that, whether we look abroad or at home,\nthere is no possibility of describing Mr. Gladstone by hints of\ncomparison with these historical personages. What is said in that way\nappears, in fact, to turn into contrast; which is, also, itself a mode\nof delineation, though not usually of the kind the chief object of it\nwishes. We can find no Minister to couple along with him as having\ndeliberately despaired of his country. However, Mr. Gladstone is\ncertainly great in some way, for although other nations while we were\nunder his sway were gradually losing sight of England herself as well as\nof him, he was making plenty of noise all the time at home. If it should\nturn out, as we go on, that he was not a great Minister but a great\norator, that would seem to account for both the things. If Bismarck and\nCavour have made affairs, Mr. Gladstone has made speeches, beating them\nas much in that as they did him in the other respect. But it is not\nexactly the same thing to the countries the men represent.\n\nIt is, therefore, under a humbler, more domestic aspect than that of\nthis high supreme style of Minister which we have first tried that we\nmust begin Mr. Gladstone's portraiture. The task may be divided into two\nportions. There is the opinion which we Conservatives hold of the\ngeneral influence and effect he has had upon our national interests, in\nwhich we may be credited with at least trying to estimate his acts and\nmeasures on their merits; and, besides that, there is a judgment of him\nfrom a narrower party view, arising out of his historic relation to\nourselves. We will take the latter first.\n\nTo hear Liberals talk, one might suppose that Conservatives had always\ncherished a special hatred against Mr. Gladstone simply for ceasing to\nbe a Tory and becoming a Radical. That the Conservatives rather late in\nhis career came to show much irritation against Mr. Gladstone is\nperfectly correct; but it was, as I hope to show as I go on, for very\ndifferent reasons than simply because he had made one Conservative less\nand one Liberal more. A great political party has no such immortal\nanimosities as that supposes: party feeling is not based on merely\nsentimental grounds. Both sides are used to losing men. It is the common\nfate of Parliamentary warfare. Now and then, some rather idle person who\nhas time to waste in going back a long way in his recollections bethinks\nhimself that Lord Beaconsfield was not always a Conservative; but we\nnever yet heard of any one among the party challenging sympathy for him\non the score that he had been hunted by the Liberals through half a\ncentury or so for having deserted them. Yet it will be admitted that\nLord Beaconsfield has injured the Liberals more than ever Mr. Gladstone\nhas done the Conservatives. What is the reason, then, of this difference\nof alleged treatment in the two cases? The answer may be given in half a\nsentence,--Lord Beaconsfield, alike when he was Mr. Disraeli and since,\nhas always fought fair. That is enough in politics to make your\nopponents acquiesce in your being such; but Mr. Gladstone as his career\ndeveloped surprised and puzzled everybody, his own friends included; and\nthose who blame the Conservatives for, in the end, losing temper and\nshowing exasperation, should bear in mind that he finally produced the\nvery same effect upon the country at large.\n\nIt is worth while following this point a little further, for it would\nnot be of much use attempting to sketch Mr. Gladstone if we are supposed\nto dislike him from some mere party instinct. Will anybody be good\nenough to tell us when this inscrutable emotion of hatred of Mr.\nGladstone arose? Liberals are not supposed to be strong in history, but\nthey have very short memories indeed if they have forgotten both their\nown career and his. Why, in 1852--that is, in the twentieth year of Mr.\nGladstone's Parliamentary life--the Conservatives were offering him\noffice, which was not refused by him with over-much promptness. For\nnearly fourteen years after that he was retained as the representative\nof the University of Oxford. It is, in fact, not yet very much more\nthan a dozen years since this victim of political persecution, and\npresent champion of the Radicals, was quietly ensconced in a seat for\nwhat is sometimes spoken of as the head-quarters of Toryism. He has\nroved a good deal among the constituencies since, but he was then\nwilling to have gone on remaining at Oxford, if his constituents had\nalso been willing to have been made laughing-stocks by letting him\nremain. Surely a man who represented Tory electors until he was getting\nfast on for sixty could scarcely up to that point have been much hunted\nand worried for Liberal principles. To speak plainly, there never was so\nlate a conversion made of so much histrionic use as this of Mr.\nGladstone's. But though it has suited both his and his present party's\nends, it rather puzzles plain people who have kept their recollections a\nlittle trim to think that if he lives on into senatorial decrepitude, he\nwill never have sat for Radical constituencies anything like so long a\ntime as he did for Conservative ones. For between thirty and forty years\nthis Liberal ex-Premier was a Tory member.\n\nIn fact, a glance at the right honourable gentleman's wonderfully\nprosperous career will show that in the list of our public men he has of\nall others made the fewest, the briefest, the least sacrifices either\nfor principle or party. There are very simple ways of testing it; Mr.\nGladstone has not been out of office long enough for a man who was\ninnocent of business prudence in his career. He has, in fact, reaped the\nofficial spoils of two parties, if not of three. The dates and\nappointments are on record for anybody to trace out. On the very face of\nit, a man who has served under Peel, Aberdeen, Palmerston, and Russell,\nand then come out as a full-blown Liberal Prime Minister himself, must\nof necessity be said to offer rather a miscellaneous career. His warmest\nadmirer must admit that he has been either the most fortunate or else\nthe most prudent of men; and, as we do not wish to be stingy in our\nrecognition of his skill, we prefer to compliment him by attributing his\ngreat prosperity throughout so many years and under so many different\nchiefs to his prudence.\n\nIf this very hasty review of Mr. Gladstone's chronicle does not agree\nwith the impression of him which is the prevailing one on the Liberal\nside, it is the one which the bare facts of his career would produce on\nevery side if they could be seen without the misleading effect of his\nvery fine words and exceedingly solemn attitudes. Very fortunately for\nhim it is only the Conservatives who have a full and accurate\nrecollection of Mr. Gladstone. They have necessarily observed him\ncontinuously from their own unshifting party position, and so have been\nable to perceive in a way that hardly was practicable to the Liberals,\nwho were always shifting and struggling among themselves, how invariably\nand consistently his announcements of change of view have hit with the\nopportunities for improvement of his Parliamentary position. On every\noccasion, to the very moment, so soon as a Liberal question had fully\nripened, Mr. Gladstone presented himself to pluck it. It was so with\nReform, it was so with Church Rates, it was so with University Reform,\nit was so with the Ballot, it was so with the spoliation of the Irish\nChurch and the unsettling of the Irish landowners, and it is so with the\nCounty Franchise, and it will be so once more, if the Liberals ever get\ninto power again, with the English Church and the English Land Laws. Mr.\nBright, Mr. Miall, and all the Radicals have drudged for many a year for\nMr. Gladstone, who, when all the outdoor work has been done, has always\nallowed himself to be persuaded to bring in the Measure just in the nick\nof time, and, by expounding it in a very fine speech, has robbed its\nactual originators of two-thirds of the credit of making it possible.\n\nLuckily for the Conservatives, though he never had the courage to attack\na question of the very first class himself in the way of initiative, he\nhad an insatiable ambition for meddling with smaller ones, and by making\nvents in these ways for his restlessness and his ambition, he finally\nruined all that his skilful prudence in the larger affairs had gained\nhim, disgusting the country till it determined to get him off its hands\nat any price. Still, that is not just now the point in question.\n\nMr. Gladstone's so slowly passing through all the stages from\nConservatism to Radicalism has had this effect,--that while all other\npublic men of his standing have grown more or less antiquated in steady\nloyal service to their party, and by presenting a fixed if monotonous\naspect to the public, this one Parliamentary personage kept a perennial\nfreshness, simply by skilfully dividing his prolonged career into\ndistinct periods and going on changing. Some political section has been\nalways welcoming Mr. Gladstone newly into its ranks and to its spoils,\nfor, as we have said, the two things unfailingly went together; and the\nshouts with which he was received were always strengthened by fainter\nmurmurs of applause from other sections more advanced along the line,\nwho hoped to receive him themselves later on. They did so. Really to\neach one of them he was a recruit from the last party. To the\nPalmerstonians he ought at the most to have been only a Peelite; to the\nLiberals at worst only a Palmerstonian. But by a surprising adroitness,\nit was always made to appear that in all his migrations from party to\nparty, he joined each successive group as a new retreater from the\nTories. It certainly was true in one sense; he was always going further\naway from them. But for all party purposes and reckoning, he had as much\nleft them when he joined Palmerston as when he shook hands with Mr.\nBright and took his place in front of the Radicals.\n\nThese are only a first handful of specimens of a certain unfairness in\nMr. Gladstone's position and career from first to last, from which he\nhas largely profited, and which very naturally irked his opponents, who\nhave had to suffer its inconveniences. He has posed as a sort of\npolitical orphan left lonely in the Parliamentary world at the death of\nPeel, who has been persecuted by wicked Tories from one Chancellorship\nof the Exchequer to another, until they finally drove him into the\nPremiership, but all this time he was successfully seceding from them,\nthough they continued in pursuit. It must have been Mr. Gladstone's\nportentous earnestness of demeanour which has covered up from the\ngeneral public a joke so huge and prolonged as this, preventing\neverybody from seeing that such a tale did not agree with his\nunprecedented prosperity. But if in these ways he has kept himself\ninteresting to the country, and fresh and surprising for every group he\nhas in rotation joined, both he and his changes have long been stale to\nthe Conservatives. They are able to look along his whole track, and\nseeing him from behind, know him as a Peelite, a follower of Aberdeen, a\nPalmerstonian, a Russellite, and a Radical. They are debarred from\napplying his own name to the last stage, and calling him a Gladstonian.\nStrangely enough, and indeed very significantly, that term has never\ntaken root in our politics. There really have never been any\nGladstonians: no one ever was or ever will be called by that title. Mr.\nGladstone will end his days and depart without founding any school; he\nwill stand recorded only as the acceptor of office from those who did\nso, and the passer of other people's measures. But in political life a\nman who attains the first rank of conspicuousness without founding a\nline may fairly be suspected. It will be found that he has been too busy\nin a narrower way,--looking after not questions but himself. To that\nvery small party, numerically reckoned, consisting of only one member,\nMr. Gladstone has been consistently and untiringly faithful. He has\nchallenged for it sympathy in all the ways to which his very fine\noratory has lent itself, and he has not neglected the humbler art of\nperpetual advertisement, keeping it by means of the press and the\nplatform ever before the public eye. But when he finally leaves us it is\ncertain to vanish entirely.\n\nVery likely some ardent Radical, whose mind is so full of having got Mr.\nGladstone at last that he forgets, or perhaps never knew, how many\ngrades and shades of politicians have in succession enjoyed him before,\nwill say that in all this we are only railing at Mr. Gladstone's\nsuccess. His success! In order to describe Mr. Gladstone, we had first\nto write retrospectively, take in his earlier phases, and to look\ngenerally at his whole history. In that retrospect, down to a late point\nin it, he was exceedingly prosperous; but we never meant to say that he\nhad been very successful since the beginning of 1874. There is not the\nslightest need for any Conservative to feel bitter against Mr. Gladstone\nnow on any grounds of personal envy. He has done them the greatest\nservice of any public man for three generations; and at any time he\nmight have individually prospered as much as he liked for them, if it\nhad been possible for him to do it without injuring his country. It is\nto this more serious examination of his career that we now go.\n\nNot that we propose to entangle ourselves in the minute details of it,\nfor that is in no way necessary. We have already in part explained why\nwe may, in such a sketch as this, drop out many years of his political\nlife. For a great length of time Mr. Gladstone was only a Budget-maker.\nIt is true he made them for Governments that were not Conservative, but\nhe still was considered nearly a Conservative outside his financial\nhandicraft. And here, again, part of the explanation we earlier gave\napplies. There is not the slightest reason why any Conservative should\npause long to consider Mr. Gladstone as the passer of the Ballot, or\neven as the disestablisher of the Irish Church and the interferer with\nthe rights of landed property in Ireland. The only thing special to be\nsaid about him in connection with these things as distinguishing him\nfrom the ruck of Liberals would be, that he was a very late ex-Tory, and\nat the time a professed High Churchman. He somehow got the Liberals to\nlet him write his name across every one of those measures so soon as it\nwas seen that they would pass, and he has made the legislation in that\nway seem to be his; but the Conservatives know with whom they had really\nto deal in the inception and the pushing forward of those movements, and\nit was not Mr. Gladstone. The real men were Mr. Bright, Mr. Dillwyn, Mr.\nMiall, and those who for many a year worked with them while Mr.\nGladstone was never heard of, never thought of, in connection with the\nmatters they had always matured before he had anything to do with them.\n\nNor was it on account of these affairs that Mr. Gladstone's fall\noccurred when it came, which is another reason why it would be waste of\ntime to discuss them in connection with him. Who is proposing to alter\nthese things now that they have been fought out between the great\nparties of the State and decided? As a supplement to his Irish Land\nBill, we now have the Irish peasants refusing to pay any rent at all:\nbut in these days when a thing is done in our Parliament it is done. The\nConservatives, in spite of the majority at their back, have never put\nforward a finger to touch those settlements, nor do they mean to do so;\nand yet not only our own country, but all Europe, and indeed realms\nfarther away still, have been keenly aware that the Beaconsfield\nMinistry has been very busy for years undoing something that Mr.\nGladstone had done.\n\nWhat was this gigantic task, which was not the repealing of legislation,\nor the passing of statutes of any kind, but which required courage and\neffort more arduous than those things? There must have been some cause\nfor the bursts of applause which have again and again echoed on our\nshores from all parts of the civilized globe at something that was going\non. It was, we hasten to answer, the rehabilitation of England in the\neyes of the world,--the restoration of her ancient power as a factor in\nthe enforcement and administration of public right among the nations.\nSomehow, coincidently with Mr. Gladstone's prosperity as a Minister,\nEngland, his country, had sunk, and in exactly answering ratio, and was\nsinking lower and lower still daily. He was very famous, or at least\nvery notorious, at home, but the renown of Britain abroad was clouding;\nand our people never will bear that, as history had shown before. This\nman, who at heart was but a financier, and who ought in the fitness of\nthings never to have risen higher in office than a Chancellor of the\nExchequer, whose function it should have been to find funds for some one\nelse as a Prime Minister capable of a policy in the higher international\npolitics befitting an Empire, was conducting our foreign affairs in the\nspirit of a commercial traveller; willing to effect a little saving by\ngiving up a group of islands in one part or a bit of territory in\nanother, and to effect an economy at another time by backing out of a\ntreaty. Though, at the same time, if anybody insisted, and there loomed,\nhowever distantly, a possibility of war, he would pay the money down in\na hurry by millions, as he did in the Alabama case. We should have had\nall the world insisting very soon, making peace more costly than war\nitself, besides the shame of unjustifiable surrender.\n\nBut we were spared all this; though the undoing of the humiliation, as\nfar as it had gone, has fully occupied Mr. Gladstone's successors ever\nsince.\n\nThis is the great accusation which the Conservatives have to bring\nagainst Mr. Gladstone--that of having degraded the position of his\ncountry; and an arraignment more fatal than this cannot be made in the\ncase of a chief Minister. It is not alone the Conservatives who make it.\nDid not Earl Russell, Liberal though he was, find enough English blood\nin his aged veins when writing his last book, to say that Mr. Gladstone\nhad dragged the name of England through the mire? But it would not be\nquite accurate to put this forward as the full explanation of Mr.\nGladstone's sudden tumble from office; for it was not until after that\noccurred that the bulk of people quite knew the whole extent of the\ninjury he had worked in this respect. The Conservative leaders guessed\nit, but they knew more about foreign affairs than the rank and file of\nthe nation. Everybody, of course, high and low, was aware that he had\nunasked given up the Ionian Islands because of some literary reasons\nwhich he had come upon in writing books about Homer, that he had\nsurrendered territory in the San Juan Boundary Question, and that he had\nquietly gone to Geneva and paid America, not indeed all she asked,--for\neven with Britain's wealth the whole of the first modest request would\nonly have been found with difficulty,--but he had counted down a sum\nthat made Brother Jonathan's shrewd eyes twinkle with joy. The country,\nfrom these events following one another, had come to have a very uneasy\nfeeling that somehow under his auspices everything was going against us\nabroad. Still it was only later that it was made fully apparent how\ncompletely England was effaced; not until the three Emperors had begun\nto settle the rearrangement of Eastern Europe, without so much as saying\nto Great Britain, \"By your leave.\" There is difficulty when looking back\nnow to prevent oneself from suffering some illusion in this respect; but\nit is a fact, and we may be glad of it, that Englishmen did not until it\nwas roughly forced upon them suppose beforehand that their position had\ndwindled to quite so low an ebb.\n\nAt the elections of 1874, there was no distinct foreign policy before\nthe public, for though there were many on the Conservative side who\nsympathized with France in her adversity, and saw clearly that Germany's\nmutilation of her territory meant trouble in time to come, not a voice\nwas raised in deprecation of our neutrality. But, for the matter of\nthat, it may be just as correctly said that there was no matured\ndomestic question before the country, for it will not be supposed that\nthere was a single Tory any more than a Liberal who wished the Income\nTax to be retained on his shoulders. It was hardly for proposing to do\naway with that impost that everybody voted so unanimously against Mr.\nGladstone; they only did so at the polling-booths in spite of his\nproposing it, which somehow seems rather mysterious. If his opponents\nwere not proposing to recall any of the recent legislation, and if there\nwas no special question of foreign affairs pending, and if nobody had\nany desire not to be lightened of taxation, how was it, pray, that Mr.\nGladstone was so ignominiously hurled from power? In reality, there is\nnot the slightest difficulty about it--Mr. Gladstone was decisively\nrejected by his countrymen, not on any question of policy, either home\nor foreign, but because of the _personal impression_ he had slowly but\nsurely imprinted on their minds. The real issue before the country was\nwhether it would have any more of Mr. Gladstone, and it said No.\n\nIt is a common artifice on the part of his apologisers to insinuate that\nhe had wearied the nation by offering it too many things for its good.\nBut neither individuals nor communities are much in the habit of\nrefusing gifts; it is the one thing, and nearly the only thing, in this\nworld for which there is an excellent reason whenever so strange a\nproceeding happens. There is another way of representing the matter, one\nmuch less complimentary but far more true--the country was sick of Mr.\nGladstone. Even the sight of Mr. Lowe standing at his side with four\nmillions of surplus in his hands was not enough to tempt them. The\npromise to abolish the Income Tax was the most tremendous bribe ever\noffered to the constituencies, but, to their credit, it did not corrupt\nthem. They would not accept Mr. Gladstone any longer at any price\nwhatever. The believers in democracy, and Mr. Gladstone in particular,\naccording to some of his very latest reasonings, ought to have accepted\nthis universal disgust as being a popular inspiration. However, they\nhave done nothing of the kind, but avow that it was a public delusion,\nwhich they at first hinted would be temporary; but if the public is\nliable to delusions, and to fits of them which continue for seven or\neight years at a stretch, for that is now the duration of this one, what\nbecomes of these very radical gentlemen's democracy? For it is not\nreally open to them to plead, though they will go on doing it, that the\npeople's eyes were dazzled by a glitter of diplomatic success, and their\nblood infuriated by a skilfully aroused anti-Russian feeling. It is not\nopen to them for a simple reason, but a very conclusive one: the\nelections came before anything of this could have happened; and the\nelections themselves arrived with the suddenness they did owing to\nsomething which had preceded them--namely, a steady run of Ministerial\ndefeats in the by-contests, wherever a vacancy occurred in a\nconstituency. Mr. Gladstone avowed all this in the address with which he\nstartled the Greenwich electors and the whole country, though he and his\nfriends have never mentioned the fact since. It was for the purpose of\nputting all things right that the elections which put them all more\nwrong still were so unexpectedly ordered. It was not because of being\nintoxicated by the diplomatic triumph of Lord Beaconsfield and Lord\nSalisbury at Berlin--which did not occur till years after--that the\nconstituencies rejected Mr. Gladstone. We have no wish to be\nunnecessarily impolite, but the true reason for it was that which we\nhave named already--they had come not to like Mr. Gladstone. If we trace\nthat fact backwards in a natural way, we shall find that one cause of it\nwas that they felt the honour and the interest of England were not safe\nin his hands; but this was only one among other causes. It swelled\nafterwards into the biggest reason of all, and now practically includes\nall the others; but, at the moment, it was not actually known that the\nsafety of England was about to be imperilled.\n\nThe voters were affected by other reasons. What were those other\nreasons? The public must have known them pretty clearly at the time,\nsince it acted so promptly and decidedly upon them, and it, therefore,\nought not to need very much recalling of them now, for the time, after\nall, is not so very long ago. But it may be as well to go into them a\nlittle, since it was through the incidents furnishing them that the\ngeneral public was led to form the very same estimate of Mr. Gladstone\nwhich the Conservatives had held for about a score of years before. At\nlast the popular judgment coincided with that of his Parliamentary\nopponents, and he fell from power. But any one who will give a moment's\nconsideration to the cases of the Collier appointment, the Ewelme\nRectory affair, and the issue of the Royal Warrant on purchase in the\narmy, will see that we are right in affirming that Mr. Gladstone's\nignominious expulsion from office was owing to moral rather than\npolitical causes. It stands recorded that this Minister, who had put\nreligious professions in the front of his politics in a way novel to\npublic life, had to defend his conduct over and over again in the House\nof Commons by quoting the mere letter of the law. Parliament became not\nunlike the Old Bailey when a legal wrangle is going on over the\ntechnicalities of an indictment; and the unwonted spectacle of Lord\nChief Justices accusing a theological Premier of having somehow evaded a\nstatute was not made any less unedifying by Mr. Gladstone showing great\nskill in being his own attorney. Everybody must admit that he certainly\ndid that.\n\nIt is possible to recall each of the cases in very few words. An Act of\nParliament had been passed with a view to strengthening the Judicial\nCommittee of the Privy Council, and, as this Court was one of Appeal, it\nstood to reason that those appointed to it to revise other Judges'\ndecisions should have had judicial experience themselves. It was\nexpressly provided in the Act that those to be raised to this Court\nshould be already Judges. To the surprise of the whole country, Sir\nRobert Collier, well known as Mr. Gladstone's Attorney-General, and,\ntherefore, conspicuously only a waiter for a judgeship, not a judge\nalready, was announced as the filler of one of these vacancies, before\nhalf the readers of the newspapers knew that he had ceased to be\nAttorney-General. It turned out, however, that he was in reality a judge\nat the moment, and that he had been one for some few moments previously,\nhaving, in fact, sat on the bench of the Common Pleas for just two days.\nThere is not space to follow Mr. Gladstone's wonderful reasoning, but it\nchiefly turned on a point so fine as this, that what the Act meant to\nstipulate was not experience, but _status_. In other words, that a man\nshould be made a judge of one kind for five minutes, in order to be\nturned into one of another kind, just for the say of the thing. Amazed\nmembers of the Legislature which had passed the enactment protested that\nthey were not so foolishly subtle as this, and that they had never,\nbefore Mr. Gladstone mentioned it, thought of any such distinction as\nthat between _status_ and experience.\n\nBut this was not the only instance in which he has told people what they\nhad intended better than they knew, and all differently. In the Ewelme\nRectory business he would have it that when a statute said Oxford it\nmeant Cambridge, or at least that its specifying Oxford did not signify,\nor that it included Cambridge, or, in fact, might be construed to\nprescribe anything else which it did not say and which was contrary to\nwhat everybody had thought of it before. However, here, again, as the\nlawyers would otherwise have been troublesome, the technicality was\nfound to have been formally complied with. The words of the enactment\ndid really require that the man who was to be made rector of Ewelme\nparish should be a member of Oxford Convocation, and Mr. Harvey, Mr.\nGladstone's friend, who had been educated at Cambridge, and who, until\nthat living became vacant, had never dreamed of connection with Oxford,\nwas made a member of the Convocation, in order to receive the living. Of\ncourse, Mr. Gladstone argued that Mr. Harvey's being a Master of Arts\nwas enough, though the statute said nothing of that, and everybody else\nhad thought it expressly stated a certain University where the Master of\nArts was to come from.\n\nBut let us go on to the third case, that of the issue of the Royal\nWarrant abolishing purchase. Not a few of the Liberals who exulted at\nthe success of the party measure had a misgiving at the way in which it\nwas secured. It was felt to be a victory which could not be repeated,\nand one of a style which, if they who snatched it had been\nConservatives, would have thrown the country into a convulsion. The most\nviolent act in the name of the Crown which the oldest man living in\nEngland has witnessed, was counselled by Mr. Gladstone. Because the\nLords, in the exercise of the power which the Constitution gives them,\nwere not willing instantly to pass his Bill for giving an entirely new\nsocial aspect to the army, he caused the Queen to do nothing short of\nsuperseding them entirely, and practically reduced the Constitution at a\nstroke to the Commons and the Crown. It is just now part of the tactics\nof the Liberals to protest against some imagined wish to bring in\n\"personal rule.\" If any such preposterous design existed, it would be\nMr. Gladstone's own act which would be fallen back upon for the\nprecedent. The feeling which has best enabled the most thoughtful among\nEnglishmen to understand the kind of shock which foreigners experience\non the occurrence of one of the political earthquakes which they call on\nthe Continent by the name _coup d'etat_, was that which ran through the\ncountry when Mr. Gladstone announced that there was nothing for the\nLords to discuss, that he had advised the Queen to issue a Royal\nWarrant. We had lost all recollection of the particular sensation, but\nhe brought back just a twinge of it. Mr. Gladstone, however, can do\nRadical acts and then explain them historically. Once more we found\nourselves all inextricably entangled in his casuistry. He now argued\nthat the Royal Warrant had not been issued by exercise of prerogative,\nbut in strict pursuance of statutory power, there being some Act of the\nGeorges to that effect, which ordinary people had forgotten. It is not\nnecessary to follow the thing further. In the end, Mr. Gladstone became\ntoo clever for the country. Even the dullest began to perceive that Mr.\nGladstone could conscientiously do whatever he liked. The more subtly he\nargued, the more plain John Bull got puzzled.\n\nIt may, at first sight, seem tasking the public memory too much to ask\npeople if they remember the tension there was in the political\natmosphere towards the end of Mr. Gladstone's career. But a very great\nmany will not have forgotten it. The political weather is so far like\nthe other sort that it is only borne in mind for its badness; that,\nhowever, was a terrible season. At the last, Mr. Gladstone seemed to\nhave got into the air, and he did not improve the climate. He may urge,\ncertainly, that Mr. Lowe had made himself very obnoxious, that Mr.\nAyrton had been found to be intolerable, and that the great trade of the\npublicans, with all its supporters, was in arms against Mr. Bruce. That\nis all true; the country disliked each one of these his chief\ncolleagues. But neither Mr. Lowe's hard cynicism, nor Mr. Ayrton's\ndogmatic inaestheticism, nor Mr. Bruce's stolid mechanical interference,\nstirred the large keen dissatisfaction which Mr. Gladstone's own\nincomprehensibility in the end did. He gave men's consciences a shock,\nand none of the others affected to feel so deeply as that: it was only\nhe who had stood forward as a political moralist, and then set everybody\nby the ears discussing his conduct. It was the same outside Parliament\nand within it. Everybody was arguing Mr. Gladstone; nobody could make\nhim out, nobody felt safe, or could imagine what was coming next. If the\natmosphere had but been charged a little more with him, England would\nnot have been worth living in. Luckily the elections came, and the air\nwas cleared.\n\nBut if in the more exaggerated instances we have above spoken of, the\ngeneral public became aware of a certain obliquity, an unreliability, a\ndissatisfied restlessness, an imperiousness in Mr. Gladstone, the\nConservatives had been more or less continuously aware of those\nqualities for many years. They, as we said earlier, have had to observe\nthe right hon. gentleman closer, more continuously, and it would be easy\nfor any one of them who is of middle age to give from his own memory a\nstring of instances, just the same in kind as those above, though not so\nbroadly striking, beginning much earlier in his career, and coming down\nmuch later. Very recently, Lord Salisbury at Manchester recalled Mr.\nGladstone's dealings with his Oxford constituents in reference to the\ndisestablishment of the Irish Church. But his lordship courteously\nspared his opponent the details. Has the world forgotten the famous\nletter to Dr. Hannah, bearing the date of June, 1865, written, as Mr.\nGladstone himself with unlooked-for _naivete_ admits in his \"Chapter of\nAutobiography,\" for the appeasing of doubts? He in it asserted, first of\nall, that the question was \"remote and apparently out of all bearing on\nthe practical politics of the day;\" second, he avowed that he was\nprobably going \"to be silent\" on the topic; third, he said that \"he\nscarcely expected ever to be called on to share in such a measure;\" and,\nas his finishing words, spoke of it as \"a question lying at a distance\nhe could not measure.\" These were far too many causes for not doing a\nthing, and the Conservatives accordingly began to look out. In 1869, Mr.\nGladstone disestablished the Irish Church. The \"remoteness\" and the\n\"distance which was not measurable\" somehow came to be packed within\nthese two dates,--1865-9. What had so hurried matters? Well, one can\nonly recall what had happened in the interim, and among the events there\nhad been these two occurrences--he had been expelled from Oxford and\nrejected by South Lancashire. The like suddenness attended his\nconversion on the subject of the Ballot. After half a lifetime of\nopposition, he one fine morning announced that it must pass, hardly a\nhint of warning having been given beforehand.\n\nBut his whole career has shown this suddenness of advance, at distinct\nperiods, which, as we have said, always coincided with the brightening\nof the prospects of the respective agitations. It is true, as is earlier\npointed out, that he took something like a quarter of a century to\ntravel the ground between the Conservative starting-point and the\nRadical position, but the length of time was not owing to his creeping\nbetween the bounds; he has traversed it at successive leaps, standing\nstill between, and, at the places where he remained stationary, there\nwas always the warm shelter of office. This style of progress has\ncharacterized him down to the present moment. As late as 1874 he told a\ndeputation that he did not consider the question of the County Franchise\nripe. There has been a good deal of very indifferent weather since then;\nbut whether or not the field crops have matured, it seems now that the\nagricultural labourer has been growing fast. Mr. Joseph Arch has been\nthe sun that has shone upon him, and Mr. Gladstone, as usual, is quite\nready to reap the harvest. Examples might be multiplied manifold. Take\nthe boasted case of the Liberal surplus, of which we have never ceased\nto hear--just as if Mr. Lowe and Mr. Gladstone had between them coined\nthe money. Its history, stated in three words, was this: Mr. Lowe had\nmulcted the public in an unnecessary twopence of Income Tax, and,\ninstead of shamefully confessing the incompetency it showed in a\nChancellor of the Exchequer, presented himself before the\nconstituencies, on the eve of the elections, with his hands full of\ngold, and with the air of presenting it to them.\n\nMr. Gladstone, great financier as he is, was not above profiting by his\nsubordinate's miscalculation. Instead of administering a rebuke, as a\ngood journeyman might have been expected to do to a bad apprentice, he\npatted Mr. Lowe on the back. Indeed, in the Greenwich address, when he\nso magniloquently spoke of the money being given back in the shape of\nabolishing the Income Tax, he seemed to take some credit to himself.\n\nIt will be beginning, perforce, to dawn upon the reader that this was a\nMinister very difficult to be dealt with by an Opposition. If we had\nspace in this paper, a part of the task of sketching Mr. Gladstone would\nbe to point out how injuriously he has confused the demarcation of\nparties; how unscrupulous he has been in seeking allies which on no\nprinciple of fair classification belonged to him. It may be nothing that\nhe can half apologize for Irish Obstructionists--the Liberals have\nalways exploited Irish members. But this very high Churchman, who clings\nto a tenet so ridiculous in the eyes of Dissenters as apostolical\nsuccession, can figure in Dr. Joseph Parker's chapel, and betray a close\nand not uncomplimentary knowledge of the trust-deed of the Rev. Newman\nHall's congregation. This austere gentleman, who, when inquiring into\nthe \"Theses of Erastus\" (see his article), finds out that moral offences\nare at the root and source of all heresy, has a kindly word for such\nfree-thinkers as happen to be also political leaders of the working\nmen--Mr. Bradlaugh, for example. This objector to divorce, on such\nstupendously elevated grounds as that we are all members of a mystical\nbody, and who cannot bring himself to allow more than a civil marriage\nto a deceased wife's sister, mingles in the ruck of Radicals. But if he\nhas what they must think ecclesiastical crotchets, he always manages\nthem with most skilful prudence. If he has to satisfy his most private\nfeelings by bringing in no fewer than six resolutions in more or less\nopposition to the Public Worship Bill, he can withdraw them again. But\nwas this the gentleman to champion Radicals and Dissenters? An\nOpposition which had to keep its own consistent lines, and which was\nclosely restricted as to its allies, was at a perpetual disadvantage\nwith one whose own opinions, subtle and complicated as they might be,\ncut him off from nobody who could be of aid.\n\nFortunately the country itself, at a certain rather tardy point, rallied\nits patriotism in that spontaneous way which always practically\nreinforces the Conservative party. The \"Alabama\" claims gave those who\ndid not meddle much in politics their first shock, while for more\nthoughtful persons it brought back a reminiscence of the surrender of\nthe Ionian Islands; and when, later, the public saw him stand tamely by\nwhile Russia tore up the Black Sea clauses of the Treaty of Paris, every\nstudent of our history knew that Mr. Gladstone's fate was sealed. The\nnation, stirred by arousings of the deeper instincts of the English\ncharacter, at last reckoned with him on general grounds--dislike of his\npersonal demeanour, and dread of what he was bringing on the country. It\nrefused to be won either by the finest oratory or the prospect of\nreduced taxation.\n\nThe Conservatives came into power on the highest tide of popular feeling\nwhich living Englishmen have witnessed. But the change was too late to\nprevent mischief; Russia, encouraged by England's effacement during Mr.\nGladstone's sway, had matured her further plans, and had already put her\nsecret intrigues into motion. The Treaty of San Stefano showed plainly\nwhat her plan was, and just as clearly does everybody not blinded by\nparty feeling now know that to Russia's amazement, and amidst the\nsurprised and grateful admiration of the whole civilized globe, the\npresent Ministry have thwarted that plan and made England again safe and\nfamous. It would be a waste of time to retrace the details: a summary of\nthem is to be found in Lord Salisbury's Manchester speech. What alone\nfurther concerns us here is the manner in which Mr. Gladstone has borne\nhimself in Opposition. We have already seen how he did so as a Minister.\nIt was understood, indeed, that he had retired, with something which was\nmeant to pass for dignity, though to the eyes of the nation there was\nnever anything which was not sulk which had so much the look of it.\nHowever, on the plea that something had happened in the world, he was\nquickly back again in front, elbowing Lord Hartington aside. Speeches,\nin Parliament and out, articles in every magazine, republication in\npamphlet and volume, letters to everybody, which, practically, meant to\nall the newspapers: there never was such an active resuscitation of one\nwho had so publicly become politically defunct. It is, however, not for\ncoming to life again that we find fault with Mr. Gladstone, for, in\ntruth, we always expected it.\n\nOur complaint is simply this, that if such a style of opposition as he\nhas resorted to became habitual, the government of the country would be\nmade impossible. No means were left untried to make Russia hope, and\nother nations fear, that Lord Beaconsfield had not the nation at his\nback, and, when owing to this encouragement, Russia showed obstinacy,\nand it was necessary to risk something by exhibiting boldness, that very\nnecessity was sought to be turned into a reproach. Mr. Gladstone's own\ntactics made it imperative that in the matter of Cyprus, and some other\nnegotiations, secrecy should be observed, and the Government was charged\nwith acting unconstitutionally, as if constitutional usage imposed no\nlimits on the Opposition, or as if those limits had not been\ntransgressed. Just so, again, in the Afghan war. If Lord Northbrook had\nacted with spirit years before, that war would never have been\nnecessary; but that trifling fact Mr. Gladstone overlooked, he and the\nDuke of Argyll making it appear that Lord Lytton had been at great pains\nto get himself and his Government into a difficulty. Why Mr. Gladstone\nhas had so little to say about the Cape war is a mystery, which may be\nexplained some day; all that can now be said of it is that it shows a\nstriking inconsistency. Luckily his efforts, though his industry was\ngigantic, have failed, and even he must be now aware that his renewal of\nthem, though we suppose it must go on, having been arranged so long and\nannounced so pompously, is a trifle late, with the Cape war ended, our\ntroops in Cabul, those of Austria at Novi Bazar, and checkmated,\nscolding Russia gnashing her teeth at Germany. However, no doubt we\nshall have some very fine speeches, proving that nothing of this ought\nto have happened, or that it won't last long, or that the Beaconsfield\nAdministration did not bring it about, or any thing else, just as\nreasonable, for fine words can be arranged in many different ways by a\npractised orator.\n\nWhat, then, we may finally ask, was the secret of Mr. Gladstone's\nsuccess so long as he was prosperous, and what was the explanation of\nhis fall when it so suddenly arrived? The thrifty skill of calculation\nin estimating the growth of questions which his whole career so\nirresistibly points to was spoken of early in this sketch; but a man, no\nmatter how judicious in the management of his own approaches to a party,\ncannot impose himself upon it. The Liberals, on the successive\noccasions, welcomed Mr. Gladstone, and did so gladly, never making his\nvery late conversions a reproach. Its leaders were more vociferous in\nhailing him at each renewed arrival one stage farther on than were the\nrank and file, though some of them, as the thing was repeated, must have\nbeen struck with the unfailing punctuality of his approach. Not that we\nare professing to sympathize with these gentlemen. If it satisfied them\nthat whenever they had upset a Government, be it that of Aberdeen or of\nPalmerston, the inevitable Mr. Gladstone always emerged out of the\nwreck, just a little more Liberal than the day before, ready to take the\nfirst pick of places in the new Cabinet, all well and good. But the fact\nwas that his arrival always was a convenience, for, no matter how the\nsections differed among themselves, the rallying round Mr. Gladstone as\na further seceder from Toryism was a proceeding in which they could all\njoin, and it gave them, again and again, an appearance of unanimity and\ncohesion. This was, in fact, his great function, and in it he has been\nvery valuable to the party. Besides, though so late and seemingly slow\nin politics, he had from the first been great, and at the outset even\nprecocious, in finance; and, further, he was a wonderful orator, even\nquicker in debating than Mr. Bright. Such a personage, so largely\nprudent and so highly gifted, was sure to succeed, and to do so for a\nlong time; but he was also certain to fail in the end, and that\ncompletely.\n\nHis temperament made that nearly certain. He was always too busy making\nspeeches, or writing for the press, or answering letters, to be any\npower in social life. A strange kind of semi-recluse, but combining with\nbookworm habits a passion for speechifying and for using the penny post,\nwas not likely to conciliate London, and he never did. By-and-by he was\nrailing at the Clubs, because they did not agree with him; and then he\nhad next to appeal from the metropolitan journals to the superior\npoliticians and brighter wits who preside over the provincial\nnewspapers. All this prognosticated failure. Even his special gifts and\nthe kind of successes which fell to him turned into the means of helping\nit. His turn for figures not unnaturally made immediate economy his\ngreat object, forgetful of the larger connection in such a land as ours\nbetween an imperial position in the world and the preservation of our\ncommerce, and overlooking also the costliness of reasserting our\nposition when a crisis came; while his ready eloquence, having no longer\nopen to it the old patriotic themes, had to expend itself in the\nadornment of British abnegation, and the excited applause given to his\nrhetoric was mistaken by him for assent to his views, till he was amazed\nto find himself suddenly quite out of accord with the nation, and\nfalling, he knew not why, headlong from power.\n\nEven to this hour he seems never to have had the least misgiving that\nthe man who could speak with such complacency of the trading supremacy\nof the world passing to America (see his article on \"Kin Beyond the\nSea\"), and who could urge as a reason for our not caring to interfere in\nEgypt that it would be the egg of a North African empire (see his\narticle on \"Aggression on Egypt and Freedom in the East\"), was not the\nman to be England's Minister. But the country had found it out even\nbefore he wrote those articles; his threatening his countrymen with the\ncalamity of finding another empire on their hands, in the only part of\nthe world yet remaining to be explored and civilized, has only proved\nthat they were right, and will not terrify Englishmen.\n\nBut a fluent orator has always left to him a kind of gambler's hope of\nretrieving everything by talking. Mr. Gladstone is going to alter\neverything by making a dozen or two of speeches in Scotland. Are these\nMidlothian harangues to be longer than that made at Greenwich, or more\nnumerous than those uttered in Lancashire? They may be as fine as they\nwill for anything it signifies to Conservatives, if the result is only\nagain the same as on the other occasions, and it is hardly likely that\nhe will persuade Englishmen now amidst their returning renown to despair\nof the future of England.\n\n    A CONSERVATIVE.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANCIEN REGIME AND THE REVOLUTION IN FRANCE.\n\n    _Histoire de l'Ancien Regime_, par HENRI TAINE. Paris.\n    _Histoire de la Revolution francaise_, par HENRI TAINE. Paris.\n\n\nWhen De Tocqueville,in his celebrated work upon the Ancien Regime and\nthe Revolution, had described the downfall of the Bourbon monarchy, he\nended with these words:--\"I have now reached the threshold of the great\nRevolution; on this occasion I shall not cross it, but perhaps I may\nsoon be in a position to do so, and then I shall no longer consider its\ncauses, but its nature, and shall finally venture to pass judgment on\nthe society that has proceeded from it.\"\n\nDeath prevented this admirable inquirer from accomplishing his purpose,\na loss to the historical literature of Europe for ever to be regretted,\nand certainly not least by the author who has now undertaken to fill up\nthe blank, and complete De Tocqueville's projected task--the\ndescription, namely, of modern France as the outcome of the immense\ntransformation which the Revolution brought upon the Old French State.\nThe fundamental principles which appear so clearly and sharply in\nTocqueville's development are prominent in Taine's; the activity of the\nearlier author prepared the ground for the later to build on. But we\nmust admit that Taine's work is pre-eminently independent, and his\ndescriptions more striking, broad, and richly coloured than those of his\nprecursor, while the material contents of his work are often different.\nBut what, in spite of this, constitutes the resemblance between the two\nmen is, their having for basis a common conception both of the State and\nwhat it presupposes, and of the historian and his task. It is the very\nopposite of the manner of thinking entertained in the eighteenth century\nwhich, without any heed to the peculiar character of the necessities of\na given people, was bent on constructing, according to simple rules of\nreason and natural law, the best State for all time. Taine, in a very\nstriking manner, declares himself free from such an error. \"In 1849,\" he\nobserves, \"I was an elector, and had to take part in the naming of a\nlarge number of Deputies. Therefore it was necessary not only to decide\nas to persons, but as to theories as well; I was required to be Royalist\nor Republican, Democrat or Conservative, Socialist or Bonapartist, and I\nwas nothing of the kind--nay, I was nothing at all, and envied those who\nhad the luck to be something. These worthy men built a constitution as\nthey would a house, on the most ornamental, most new, or most simple\nplan; a row of models stood ready for choice, a baronial castle, a\nburgher's house, a workshop, a barrack, a phalanstery, a cottage, and\neach said of his favourite model: 'That is the only proper dwelling, the\nonly one a rational man would inhabit.' To me this seemed an utter\nmistake. A people, as I thought, may indeed be able to say what house\nthey admire, but some experience is needed to teach them what house they\nneed, whether it be commodious and lasting, stands the weather well, and\nharmonizes with the customs, occupations, and fancy of its occupant. We\nhere in France have never been content with our political erections; in\nthe course of eighty years we have pulled them down and rebuilt them\nthirteen times. Other nations have acted differently, and found their\nadvantage in so doing. They have preserved an old, substantial building,\nenlarged, built around, and beautified it according to their needs, but\nnever attempted to build an ideal house at one stroke, according to the\nrules of pure reason. It would therefore appear that the sudden\ninvention of an entirely new, and at the same time suitable and durable\nconstitution is an undertaking that transcends human capacity. The\npolitical and social form which a people permanently assumes is no\nmatter of choice, but fixed by its character and its past. It must be\nsuited to its idiosyncrasy, even in the minutest points, or it will\ncrack and fall. Therefore we must know ourselves before we can discover\nwhat the proper constitution for us is. We must invert the accustomed\nmethod, and first form to ourselves a picture of the nation before we\nsketch a constitution. At the same time this is a far harder and wider\ntask than the one hitherto in favour. What inquiries into past and\npresent, what labour in all domains of thought and action, are needed to\nunderstand with precision and completeness the nature and growth of a\ngreat people through centuries! But it is the only way to avoid putting\nout first empty discussions and then incoherent constructions; and, as\nregards myself, I shall not think of a political opinion until I have\nlearnt to know France.\"\n\nFrom this rejection of the rationalistic State theory, it follows, of\ncourse, that the author declines the style of historical writing that\ncorresponds with it. We all know how parties who contended in the course\nof the Revolution have gone on attempting to justify their historical\nrepresentation of it--Emigrants and Feuillans, Girondists and\nMontagnards, Bonapartists and Communists. They all knew exactly at the\nbeginning of their historical labours what the conclusions arrived at\nwould be. Their own party had the ideal of the only healthy State cut\nand dry, and hence the sentence upon companions, allies, and enemies was\npronounced beforehand. The desirable aspects of the Revolution were\nowing to the activity of that party, the undesirable to the\nworthlessness of its adversaries. The study of isolated facts only awoke\nreal interest in so far as it sharpened the perception of the main\npoint--our party is right, all others are wrong. To this disposition of\nmind more than to any other hindrances we may attribute the small\nadvance made, up to the middle of our century, in the knowledge of\nfacts, in the history of the Revolution; this is what explains the else\ninexplicable phenomenon that, spite of the large interest felt in the\nperiod, no history of Louis XVI. drawn from authentic documents has as\nyet been written. For that even the books of De Tocqueville and Taine,\nspite of the strength of their authors' intellect and the wealth of\ntheir material, have not afforded us this, we shall soon convincingly\nsee.\n\nBoth these works, however, are invaluable preparations for the writing\nof such a history. With firm and decided political principles of their\nown, both authors have determined to serve no party, but knowledge only.\nBoth desire to know men and circumstances before they judge of the\npolitical experiments made. Both are full of the spirit of the old\nsaying: \"Human affairs are neither to be wept over nor laughed at, but\nto be understood.\" It is only when we know the soil and the seed from\nwhich the Revolution sprang that we can understand its nature and\nworking, and only from the understanding of the whole can we pronounce\nupon the details with which factions have hitherto concerned themselves\nin endless and unprofitable debate. We will illustrate our meaning by a\ncontrary procedure. I have not unfrequently heard the question: \"How can\nTaine, whose first volume reveals more fully than any previous work the\nutter corruption of the Ancien Regime, place the Revolution in his\nsecond in an equally unfavourable light? If the old state were so\ncompletely good for nothing, the French were perfectly right in utterly\ndestroying it.\" Accordingly, there has been no want of critics who,\nafter the appearance of the first volume, declared the author to be a\nthorough Liberal, and, after the second, in deep disappointment,\nproclaimed him a thoroughly reactionary politician. There are, indeed,\ncertain passages that might lead to such a conclusion, certain\ninconsistencies do appear, but on the whole it is self-evident, from an\nhistorical standpoint, that out of so evil a condition as the first\nvolume paints the dark pictures of the second must needs grow. Rather\nshould we have had cause to wonder if from a diseased root there had\nsprung a healthy tree. The men of the Revolution had grown up on no\nother soil and in no other atmosphere than that of the Ancien Regime; it\nwas under it that their notions had arisen, their passions been\nfostered, and their ideal formed; it was there that their nature had\nreceived its stamp and their strivings their direction; and if all\nrelations were dislocated, political feeling perverted, all portions of\nthe people filled with bitter hatred against the State and each other,\nhow should pupils in such a school amidst the final shock of\ncatastrophes show themselves men of ripe experience, practical wisdom,\nand determined energy? He who has once taken in this simple truth will\nbe much inclined to a mild judgment of individual men and parties; at\nall events, he will not be able abruptly to take sides either for or\nagainst the Ancien Regime or the Revolution. For one thing will have\ngrown clear to him, that the Revolution was not the destroyer alone, but\nthe undeniable offspring, of the old condition of things.\n\nThat a work of Henri Taine's displays literary ability of the first\norder there is no need to say. His representation of events is grounded\non most industrious study; unpublished documents of all kinds are cited,\nas well as printed works, and among the latter we have not only French,\nbut foreign authorities--English more especially--while German are\nhardly so much as noticed. At all events, the mass of thoroughly\nexplored material is enormous, and our historical knowledge is\nfrequently extended, rectified, and cleared thereby. We shall attempt to\nfollow the general line of thought running through the book, and now and\nthen to controvert it on certain points.\n\nIt will be remembered to what pregnant results Tocqueville's inquiries\nled. The centralized government of France is by no means a creation of\nour century, but a production of the Ancien Regime. Since the days of\nRichelieu, ministers of finance and their intendants and delegates had\ntaken the exclusive charge of police of every kind, public works and\nplans, the economic and spiritual welfare of the people. The elementary\nprinciples of political liberty and parliamentary constitution, of\nindependent local administration and commercial freedom, were destroyed\nthereby. Spiritual and temporal magnates had been almost sovereigns in\nthe districts in which they fulfilled the duties of government,\npreserved internal and external peace, protected local interests, and\nconsequently imposed taxes and corvees upon their dependents, while\noften successfully resisting royal aggression--all these magnates were\nnow as unconditionally as the mass of the people subjected to the royal\nbureaucracy and forced out of all political activity--thenceforth, as\nhated parasites, they had to live at the cost of the working people. The\nKing, therefore, assembled them at his Court, where, in compensation for\ntheir loss of liberty and honour, pensions and presents--always at the\ncost of the people--were heaped upon them. Thus the popular hatred went\non intensifying with every generation, and was at length the source and\nessential element of the great Revolution.\n\nIt is on this thesis that Taine bases his representation of the subject.\nPrivileges were once the reward of political service done by the heads\nand leaders of the people in their own territories. Then, the landlord\nlived in the midst of his dependents--his own interest was identical\nwith their welfare, he was linked with them by natural and traditional\nties, and appeared as their powerful advocate whenever the State\nattempted any arbitrary and oppressive measure. Now bureaucratic\ngovernment divided the landowners from the people, and by the\nunjustified continuance of their privileges set the two henceforth in\nopposition. For because the nobleman paid no taxes, the burgher and\nfarmer had to make up the deficit. Because he retained the right of\nchase, his game had to be fed on the crops of his tenants. If a not\ninconsiderable number of the higher middle classes gained the special\nprivileges of nobility, the burthens of the rest of the people were only\nincreased thereby. The author has rendered us praiseworthy service by\nexposing the extent of privileges and feudal rights on one hand, and of\nthe increase of taxes and duties on the other, more fully and precisely\nthan any other writer has done. Thorough investigation has brought out a\nstill more appalling condition than had been imagined. After the State,\nthe Church, and the landlord had received their rates, the share of the\nfarmer in the proceeds of his land never amounted to more than a half,\nand often his taxes rose to eighty per cent. of his income. On the other\nhand, the privileged classes paid at least a fifth less than the just\nproportion, and knew how to obtain on a yearly average at least a\nhundred millions in the shape of presents, pensions, &c. With\nincreasingly few exceptions, there was no more thought of any care to be\ntaken of the lower classes by the higher. Prelates and magnates streamed\ntowards Versailles; all that the peasants knew of them was from their\nunmerciful agents coming for rent and taxes. Thus France fell asunder\ninto two worlds without, unfortunately, any reciprocal knowledge or\ncommon interest, divided by contempt and hatred--worlds that lived on\nside by side, the smaller in wealth, enjoyment, elegance, and luxury,\nand, above all, brilliant idleness; the larger in poverty, wretchedness,\nignorance, savagery, and, above all, in ever-growing and devouring\nbitterness of heart--a condition such as no other nation of Christian\nEurope had ever before come to.\n\nNow all this is perfectly correct, and Taine proves it by a mass of\nauthentic testimony: nevertheless it may be observed that it is only a\npart of the truth, and by this one-sidedness the author has been led\ninto error.\n\nI am now alluding to the first part of this exposition, that which\ntreats of the centralization of the government in the hands of royal\nofficials as the deepest root of all this mischief. The worst side of\nthis centralization had been incontrovertibly exposed by De Tocqueville,\nbut none the less his representation was unfair and unjust, because it\nmade no mention of the brighter side. No one can contest that the\npolitical inactivity of men of all positions in a system that referred\nthe general interests of France to a bureaucracy, demoralized the higher\nclasses and left the lower ignorant and inexperienced. Still the\nhistorian should not forget the actual achievements of this great\nbureaucracy. Under Colbert's guidance it created the civic order and\neconomical beginnings of modern France. It, for the first time in\nFrance, rendered throughout a century a burghers' war an impossible\nthing, and it stimulated internal traffic by roads and canals, which\ngave rise to countless industrial and commercial undertakings. Later,\nunder Turgot and Necker, it waged, on behalf of the people, war against\nthe pressure of privileges, thought primarily of reform and progress,\nand saw with bitter regret the defeat of its popular efforts by the\nopposition of the nobles. Tocqueville himself tells how the Liberal\nparties before the Revolution thought more of reforms than\nliberties--that is to say, they expected the improvement of their\ncondition from a further strengthening of the Monarchy. It came to a\nRevolution first, however. The Monarchy, wielded by the feeble hand of\nLouis XVI., was unequal to the task; then privileges fell for ever, but\nafter ten years monarchical centralization arose anew in order a second\ntime to satisfy the needs and inclinations of the French people\nthroughout three generations. It seems therefore a mistake to paint this\ninstitution so out and out black. We may lament that it has not merely\ndone nothing to educate the French in political liberty, but has as much\nas possible stifled liberty and the very sense of it among them. But how\nwithout it, under the circumstances that succeeded to the religious wars\nand the Fronde, anything like a positive constitution ever could have\narisen in France, De Tocqueville does not say. We are indeed amazed when\nTaine, in his enumeration of the privileged classes as those luxurious\nidlers, those once political servants who had now renounced all\npolitical influence, numbers, as third with the clergy and nobility, the\nKing--the head of that Government, which was only too zealous in\nworking, and thereby drew all the power of the State to itself and\nexcluded all others from care for the common weal. Here there is an\nevident contradiction, nor is it any way cleared up by the circumstance\nthat personally Louis XV. vied in indolence and debauchery with the\nworst of his courtiers, or that his unfortunate successor spent much of\nhis time and energy in Court etiquette and the chase. For the reign of\nLouis XVI. was from first to last spent in efforts, by the setting aside\nof feudal privileges, alike to strengthen the Crown and promote the good\nof the people, and in no case can it be more incorrect to look upon the\nCrown as a devouring parasitical growth upon the body of the State. This\nbrings me back to my former remark: had Taine instead of or by the side\nof his picture of society under the Ancien Regime written the history of\nits last monarch, most assuredly he would have avoided this\nmisconception.\n\nBut he admirably describes how the brilliant and empty position of the\nhigher class led step by step to ruin. These distinguished personages\nhad no earnest and strenuous activity; to be civil officials appeared to\nthe majority of them below their dignity. They adopted the army as a\nmere sphere of chivalrous adventure, for even there, there was no\nquestion for them of rigid discipline; they left the drilling and care\nof their troops to subalterns and sergeants. Bishops and abbots drew\nimmense revenues, and gallantly offered their devotion to fair dames,\nbut as to divine services and cure of souls, they were the affair of\nneedy priests and hungry vicars. The only field for their ambition and\ninterest was the Court, the salon, good society. To shine there was the\nobject of their distinguished lives. And as the French people have ever\nbeen largely endowed with grace and _esprit_, these efforts resulted in\na perfection of personal appearance, a virtuoso-ship of social\nintercourse, a fixed and yet highly elastic code of _bon ton_, such as\nthe world never saw before or since. Until then the first class of a\ngreat nation had never been known to make the formation of an exquisite\nsociety its highest, nay, its only life-purpose, to subordinate and\nsacrifice mental activity, moral strength, and individuality of\ncharacter to the promotion and claims of this cultus. Here the final end\nof existence was enjoyment in all imaginable degrees, and thought and\naction were rigidly directed to it. That the greatest part of life\nshould be spent in society was the most pressing requirement of\npoliteness, the reciprocal recognition without which all society becomes\nunendurable. The conventional forms in which this recognition clothed\nitself became the law of this great world, and the consequences were\nfelt on all sides. Any appearance of individual peculiarity or opinion\ncame to be held unfitting; to be other or better than the rest was an\noffence against manners. Equally forbidden was the manifestation of any\nstrong passion, a thing by its very nature opposed to the sway of\nconventionality. Vice therefore was excused if it presented itself\ngracefully, and almost honoured if it brought a startling and exciting\nvariety into the monotony of daily life. Mental enjoyments were as\nwelcome as sensual, provided they could be had without trouble or\nlabour, for the aim was not to be informed, but amused, and so any kind\nof knowledge was good, with the exception of the tedious. Hence it\nfollowed that all mental acquirement was estimated not by the worth of\nits content but the excellence of its form: abstract intelligence in the\nservice of enjoyment, such was the motto of this society. Genial\noriginality, unconscious creative power, native vigour, were thoroughly\nantipathetic there, or only tolerated in so far as they made themselves\nsubservient to the ruling mood.\n\nA further consideration of how essentially these characteristics of good\nsociety tended to strengthen and sharpen the revolutionary theories of\nits deadly foes, here becomes instructive. The development of this\nprocess may indeed be looked upon as the salient point in Taine's work,\nfor often as the French literature and philosophy of the eighteenth\ncentury have been treated of, I know of no earlier author who with such\nextensive material and penetrating insight has clearly brought out the\ncontinuous reciprocal action of circumstances and theories, and thus\ngained an unalterable scale for the measurement of both by history.\nTaine begins, as is just, with the mighty impetus given to natural\nscience since the middle of the seventeenth century throughout Europe,\nby which a way was opened for an utterly new view of the world and of\nmen, in opposition to the speculative and theological conceptions of the\nMiddle Ages.\n\nNext comes under consideration the prevalence of the inductive method,\nthe rejection of all dogmatic assumption, the repugnance to all\nintuitive ideas, the proclamation of observation and experiment as the\nonly sources of verifiable knowledge. These principles having been at\nonce unconditionally acknowledged in the sphere of natural science, the\nnext step was to apply the tone of thought they had engendered to the\nphenomena of spiritual and social life, and here also to demand thorough\ninvestigation by the one true authority--criticism. Whatever the\nconsequence of this investigation might in particular cases be, the very\nfact that it had been demanded, that the right of the existing, _as\nsuch_, was denied, that the authority of tradition was subjected to that\nof critical reason--this betokened a new epoch in the world's history,\nand opened out possibilities of hitherto undreamed-of progress in\npolitics and religion, State and Church, material and spiritual culture.\nIt is now plain that if the inductive method can lead to such positive\nresults, its application should be thorough and universal. No naturalist\ndelivers a general law as to the life of an organism before he has\nconsidered its origin, existence, and decay in all their stages,\ncompared it with its like, separated it from its unlike; for it is just\nthrough the discovery and recognition of the eminently special that\nanalysis leads him to the comprehension of universal truth. And\naccording to this same rule, in order to arrive at a just and\npracticable idea of reform for any State, a great mass of special\nobservations by technically practised and prepared eyes would have been\nrequired; legal, economical, and historical inquiries made; the\npeculiarities of individuals and peoples, of the epoch and stage of\nculture, must have been known; the not merely personal but collective\nfunctions of human nature in their bases and action investigated: for\nonly when all this had been accomplished could it be asserted that the\norganism of the State and its laws had been dealt with after the manner\nof a genuine naturalist, and that we were now in a condition to judge of\nsingle actualities according to these laws.\n\nHow came it that in the France of the eighteenth century the very\nopposite occurred--that politicians, stimulated by young natural\nscience, should from the very first turn their backs upon the inductive\nmethod, and evolve the future State rationalistically, according to a\nfew abstract principles?\n\nTaine convincingly shows the reason of this: it was chiefly the\ninfluence of fashionable society upon literature which led to this fatal\ntendency.\n\nThe highest circles in Paris and Versailles, in their brilliant but idle\nexistence, were, as we have seen, as intent upon mental as sensual\nexcitement, and therefore prepared to open their doors to every\nlitterateur who could satisfy this demand. Now, owing to the actual\nstructure of society in France, the writer who did not choose merely to\ndevote himself to a few professional subjects had no other public than\nthis distinguished class. They and they alone were in a position to\nsecure him praise, honours, and a certain income, therefore it was most\nnatural that the writer should conform to requirements upon the\nsatisfaction of which his literary career was so absolutely dependent.\nWe have now to inquire what were the characteristics of the prevalent\ntone of thought among the highest class. First a horror of all\nthoroughness, all enduring and laborious perseverance, all deep\nearnestness and spiritual recollection. For all this was the very\nopposite of enjoyment and diversion, it was a falling into the deadly\nsin of tediousness. It was desirable, indeed, to have much and varied\nknowledge, but rapidly and lightly, by vivid and pungent discussion, to\nreach the quintessence of the most interesting points and conclusions.\nConsequently the author's productions became restless, many-sided, and\nsuperficial. The mass of information in every department of knowledge\nwhich Voltaire, for instance, had at his disposal was immense; but the\nworking out and application of it were strongly hasty, aphoristic, and\nfrivolous. To this was added the dislike the public of the time had to\nany individual peculiarity, its tendency to force all personalities into\none conventional form--an effort equally fatal to poetic creation and to\nthe historical sense. For such men as these the world was comprehended\nin what they called the great world; they had lost the power of\nimagining that there was or ever had been an existence outside of it and\nabsolutely unlike it; or if in any particular case the astounding fact\ncould not be entirely concealed, it was understood that among cultivated\npersons it could never be given any importance. Even on the stage it was\nno longer considered becoming that peasants or labourers, a Peruvian or\nIroquois, should speak in their own natural manner; they were all alike\nrendered polite, sententious, and fluent as their distinguished\naudience. Each local and individual tone was rubbed away, every person\nof the drama was but a mouthpiece for the eighteenth-century eloquence\nof the author. As with the drama, so with other literature. Taine\ncorrectly observes that if we read an English romance of the period, we\nhave before our eyes a section of the English people; but a French one,\nthough widely varying in garb, contains invariably a picture of a French\nsalon, and that only. In presence of so universal a mood as this, how\ncould any one come to the study of the State by means of difficult and\ndistant researches on historical ground? Montesquieu did it, but he\nremained solitary among his contemporaries, won much celebrity, but\nexercised very little influence. The other reformers used quickly to\nturn over the pages of histories in order to find piquant quotations for\nsome ready-made theory; as, for instance, the ambition of priests, the\nfalsehood of diplomatists, the insatiability of princely greed. As to\nthe complicated task of judging any individual State and its\nconstitution according to its climatic and geographic conditions and its\nhistorical antecedents, with the exception of Montesquieu, no man dreamt\nof that. The public, with whom the decision lay, did not require\nanything of the kind, nay, would have repaid the severe toil with\ndisapproval. It placed, as we have before said, far more stress on a\npleasant form than an instructive purpose, cared but little for any\nsubject in itself, but only as affording material for the most\nintelligent, yet at the same time most comprehensible and exciting\nconversation. In debate no trace of previous knowledge won by personal\neffort was pre-supposed; all that was needed was never to be\ncommonplace, and in every case to bring forward new and amazing truths.\nAccordingly speech and style strove neither for fulness nor depth, but\nso much the more for clearness and conclusiveness. In exposition, the\nprogress was regular from syllogism to syllogism, great care being taken\nnever to skip over a middle term. In order to be impressive the speaker\nbecame rhetorical, in order to convince he endeavoured to reduce every\nsubject to one universal and easily inculcated proposition. Good society\nwas delighted to be thus agreeably put in possession of the most\nadvanced views of the world; but literature thus allowed itself to\ndeviate from real knowledge into the way of empty abstraction.\n\nThat the literature thus fostered and guided should from the beginning\nof the eighteenth century have been in opposition, that since the middle\nof it it should have undermined with savage impetuosity all the\nfoundations of existing conditions, this gave not the least shock to\ndistinguished society. Disgust at their own impotence and the\nomnipotence of royal officials, dislike to an intolerant orthodoxy,\nvexation at some personal neglect at Court,--altogether there was cause\nenough for malicious satisfaction when philosophers, by biting\ncriticisms, made clear the standpoint of burdensome potentates. And when\nan ever-growing and strengthening Materialism taught the doctrine of\nphysical enjoyment and judicious selfishness as the guiding principle of\nhuman conduct, it only spoke out what had half-unconsciously been the\nsum of all the motives and activities of high society. But above all,\ntheories were but theories, merely conversation, excitement, pastime.\nThe nobles declaimed against obsolete abuses, but naturally each meant\nto keep his own rightful possessions, and among these were privileges\nand feudal rights. They felt conscious of a fresh superiority to the\nignorant masses, because they professed humanitarianism and liberalism,\nand spoke against superstition and subordination. That these\nmuch-admired theories might by-and-by become common to the whole\ncommunity, and then bring about horrible explosions--of this they had\nnot the remotest suspicion. Any one who had in 1780 prophesied such a\nthing to the ladies of Versailles, would have been looked upon as we\nshould look upon a prophet nowadays, who told us that in the next\ncentury cats and dogs, instead of men, were to be lords of creation.\n\nThis, then, was the public in whose atmosphere and with whose\nco-operation the philosophy of revolutionary enlightenment sprung up. It\nwas here that it learned its rapid and superficial mode of study, its\nrejection of an historical spirit in favour of multitudinous present\nactualities, its taste for rhetorically adorned formulae and\ncommonplaces. When the construction of the best State was to be set\nabout, common characteristics were collected from the natural history\nof mankind, such as the dislike to pain, the impulse towards pleasure,\nthe capacity of forming, from sensations, representations and\nconclusions. These characteristics were merely put together as the\nconcept man, and from this abstract man were deduced, as in a\nmathematical formula, the laws of politics, morals, and rights. Since\nall men had the same natural impulse towards happiness, the State must\nrender it possible for them all to reach that aim. Since all had a\nnatural capacity to form concepts and conclusions, they would be sure to\nemploy the right means to that end so soon as their hands were left\nfree, or in case of a momentary mistake these right means logically\npointed out to them. That passion is, in point of fact, in the great\nmajority of men, stronger than reason, and desire more impetuous than\nthought, was disregarded by these admirers of abstract reason; the fact\nthat each man had the faculty of drawing a logical conclusion appeared\nto them to insure his conforming his conduct to the requirements of that\nconclusion. If a logically formulated proof of the excellence of one of\nthe Constitutions they had sketched could be arrived at, they fancied\nthat the security and durability of its construction was perfectly\nguaranteed. On the other hand, that the preservation of constitutional\norder required other forces besides logical discussions, this was\naltogether outside their range of thought.\n\nBut logic knows no limits beyond the evolution of its own conceptions.\nThe existing condition of things lent itself to being ground to powder.\nBefore the critical assault of the new teaching no defence of the hoary\nunrighteousness of the Old Regime could make a stand; the pity was that,\naccording to its own principles, the former found it impossible to\nattain to a firm and enduring constitution of any sort or colour.\n\nBut, if possible, the theories afloat set in against the existing\necclesiastical system even more strongly than against the political\nconstitution. The natural science of the day afforded far more material\nfor battle on that ground than the other. Astronomy, physiology, and\nanthropology joined with the efforts of philosophy to demonstrate that\nmiracle was a delusion, revelation unthinkable, and an extra-mundane God\nunverifiable. Soon numerous voices exalted negation into the positive\nstatement that every idea of God should be rejected, and that the\nso-called soul in man was only the highest function of organized matter.\nTrue, Voltaire remained through life a Deist, and Rousseau declared his\nfaith in God and in the immortality of the soul; but the one all the\nmore resolutely contended against the divine institution of the Church,\nand the other against the fundamental Christian doctrines of Sin and\nJustification. However different each may have been from the other, they\nwaged in common a war for life and death against the Church, the war of\nutterly opposed principles. Tocqueville was wrong in saying that the\nRevolution was only inimical to the Church as a feudal and aristocratic\ninstitution; that after it had lost its wealth and privileges,\ndemocratic society recognized how strong a democratic momentum the\nChurch itself contained, and accordingly gave itself up with increased\nwarmth to religious feelings. Here there is no doubt Taine's record is\nthe more correct one. The Revolution knew well that it desired not the\nwealth only, but the fall of the Church; and not the partisans of the\nRevolution, but its adversaries, whose numbers were largely swelled by\nthe cruelties of the Terror, have brought about the elevation of the\nChurch in our own century.\n\nIf we now contemplate somewhat more narrowly the Constitutional theory\nof the illumination, we shall discern two characteristic and prominent\nfeatures, which, on the one hand, show its descent from the innermost\ncore of the Ancien Regime, and, on the other, very energetically\ndetermined the whole course of the Revolution. The ideal state deduced\nfrom the universal characteristics of mankind was as cosmopolitan as\nlevelling. Just as on the stage of the period, Frenchman and savage,\nancient Greek and modern Parisian, spoke the same language,--that of the\nsalons of Versailles,--so political theories recognized neither\nFrenchman nor Englishman, Catholic nor Protestant, educated nor\nuneducated, only Man in general. They never considered what institutions\nwould be adequate, in France, to the needs and capacities of the\neducated ranks and uneducated masses, or how far the habits and opinions\nof their nation would render the adoption of a foreign institution\npracticable or injurious; rather they formulated the rights of men, of\nabstract instead of actually existing men, and were convinced that a\nconstitution based thereupon was for all men, and consequently for all\npeoples, the only good, and therefore the only lawful one. And just as\nclear as the equality of nations under the new political law, appeared\nthe equality of all men in the new State, by which was meant not merely\na claim to equal protection by law, or equal facility in obtaining one's\nrights, but a demand for the realization of an inborn and material\nequality of rights. This, as is well known, was the point on which\nRousseau took his stand, and gave the last and decisive direction to the\nimpending democratic revolution. Taine justly observes how frequently,\nin spite of their common principles, Rousseau's character and way of\nlife led him to take different views from those of Voltaire and the\nEncyclopaedists. The deepest and most unqualified indignation of these\nlast was inspired by what they called superstition, stupidity, and\npriestcraft, the transformation of the old State being with them more an\naffair of the intellect than the feelings, a conclusion drawn from their\nuniversal theory and an ideal requirement of philanthropy. It was\ngenerosity that led them to appear as the advocates of the poor and\ntheir woes, while they themselves were high in the approval and favour\nof the best society. Rousseau, on the other hand, had himself led the\nlife of the proletaire; in the nervous excitability and measureless\nvanity which made him almost prouder of his weaknesses and vices than of\nthe greatness and strength of his talents he--poor, often hungry, not\nseldom degraded and reviled--had filled himself with burning wrath\nagainst the favoured of earthly fortune, the noble and the rich, the\nrevellers in idleness and luxury. This growing hatred he transferred to\nthe State and the laws which had produced so unrighteous a contrast\nbetween man and man. Men, he maintained, were in their original\ncondition good, because equal. It was the State, culture, society, that\nfirst introduced inequality, and vice and crime thereby. The existing\norder was not merely incompetent, as the Encyclopaedists asserted, but\nhurtful, poisonous, deadly. And, in contrast to it, he sketches a\npicture of the true human State.\n\nEqual and good men assemble in their natural condition to think on the\nbasis of their future State. Each endows the new community with all\nliberty and property, in order to receive back an equal share of the\nmanagement and the possessions of the whole. But this whole is\nomnipotent. No laws bind its will, for its will is the source of all\nlaw. No king, no official, no superior rules over it; each individual is\nonly empowered to act, so far and so long as he upholds the plenipotence\nof the sovereign mass. It is not the upper classes who command the\npeople, but the people which require obedience from its officers and\nthrows them away when they no longer please it. For individual liberty\nthere is here no place; but owing to the equality of all, the free will\nof the masses joyously and harmoniously prevails.\n\nFor a season these doctrines only served to afford a welcome mental\nstimulant to the minds, if not of the nobility, of the cultivated and\nproperty-possessing classes. The higher, and soon the lower, bourgeoisie\ninflated themselves with these views. At this period they shared certain\nof the privileges of the nobles, filled numerous and prominent offices\nin the State, gave to the nation its largest number of famous thinkers\nand poets, promoted industry and commerce, and daily increased in\nwealth, while the nobles, by their extravagance, ruined themselves\nfinancially. The former were, therefore, full of the consciousness of\ntheir own dignity, and found the continued precedence claimed by the\nnobles to be unendurable. They believed with inward satisfaction in this\ndoctrine of the equality of all men and the sovereignty of the whole.\nFor, instead of the privileged, it seemed to them self-evident that\nowing to their culture they, the hitherto unprivileged, ought to stand\nout prominently among the people as leaders of that governing whole.\nThus the state of freedom and equality would be the state of pure reason\nas well, and, therefore, the leading position could not fail to fall to\nthem, the masters of reasonable discussion. Meanwhile the mass of the\npoor, wholly cut off from the sources of culture and the mental\nmovements of their country, for long years knew nothing of this absolute\ngoverning power which, according to the new discoveries, inalienably\nbelonged to it, and was so surprisingly soon to fall into its lap. The\nonly change in their condition, and thus the only preparation for their\nfuture sovereignty, was an increase of outward distress and of inward\nconfusion and embitterment; and then came the time when the small circle\nto which education and enjoyment were limited, and the State power they\nwielded, fell into internal demoralization, strife of factions, and\nfinancial embarrassments, till the very Crown itself was obliged to\nsummon popular forces to war against the privileged. All the springs of\nState machinery refused to work, coffers were empty, authorities and\nclasses at bitter internecine strife, the army unreliable and\nundisciplined. It was under circumstances like these that the mass of\nthe people in towns and villages heard from their candidates, advocates,\nand demagogues, what in truth their rights were. In their ignorance and\nwant, their rudeness and embitterment, they suddenly learnt that for\nthem--as sovereign--limits, obligations, authority no longer existed,\nthat the old corruption and slavish condition was to be thoroughly got\nrid of, and that then everything would belong to them. They listened\nwith greedy ears, and rushed forward to trample under foot whatever\nsought to contest these rights of theirs.\n\nThe highest and noblest aims lured the century on, and animated the\nhearts of countless worthy men: liberty, well-being, and culture for\nall, no difference between man and man but that of talent and virtue,\nfraternity among all citizens in the State and all nations on the earth;\nthese were the ideals that 1780 proclaimed to the world and the future,\nand therefore the French still love to speak of the deathless principles\nand fair days of this first epoch of the Revolution. All this, Thiers\ntells us, would have been admirably realized had not evil-hearted\nemigrants and foreign Powers by their malignant attacks, driven the most\nhumane of all Revolutions into desperation, a fight for existence, and\nbloodshed. All would have gone well, says Louis Blanc, had not the\nwicked Thermidorians, on the occasion of Robespierre's fall, brought in\na policy of vice and self-seeking instead of one of virtue and brotherly\nlove. Probably, on the other side the Vosges, eighty men out of every\nhundred adopt one or other of these views, and so it is easily\nintelligible that the merciless facts by which Taine shatters these fair\npictures should be received with repugnance and surprise by his\ncountrymen. The contrast between such a reality and such an ideal is\nindeed enormous; fair days, or so much even as one fair day in the\ncourse of the Revolution, can no longer be spoken of; in the very hour\nwhen absolute monarchy collapsed, a wild, rude, and cruel anarchy\ncovered the land, filling France with violence and crime of every kind\nfor a decade, and lastly causing an unparalleled despotism to appear to\nthe French people salvation and deliverance. The conclusion is\nunavoidable, either the ideal was good for nothing, and the Coblentz\nemigrants had right on their side against the nation, or the French\npeople had set about their high task in a quite impracticable way, and\ntheir historical fame has this time to be limited to the motto, _In\nmagnis voluisse sat est_. Neither of these alternatives will have a\npleasing sound in the ears of a Liberal Frenchman.\n\nBut, pleasing or not, the facts are indisputable, and up to the present\ntime each new investigation of authentic documents has only served to\ngive them a wider range and a more assured basis. We have seen the end\nof the Ancien Regime. The nobles of the former State were unnerved by\nidleness, debilitated by enjoyment, degraded by immorality; never had\nthe aristocracy of a great nation fallen and been brushed away from the\nsoil of their country, making so feeble a resistance. The leaders of the\nmovement followed a political teaching based on a most one-sided and\ntherefore radically false conception of human nature, and had no idea of\nthe real nature of their fellow-citizens, or of the principles and needs\nof genuine political life. Finally the masses were unmoved by any\npolitical thought whatever, but were darkly conscious of their own\nwretched state up to the present time, and their hatred of those who\nhad, or were supposed to have, occasioned it, were credulous and\nimpressionable, and penetrated with the rightfulness of their wildest\npassions and desires. With such materials as these it is possible indeed\nto blow up an old and half-useless house, but not to construct on its\nruins a well-planned and lasting new one.\n\nThus Taine shows by details from documents contemporaneous with the\nevents, how, even before the opening of the National Assembly, the\ncondition of things was out of joint at a hundred points. Tumults and\nplunder, disobedience to authorities, and maltreatment of obnoxious\npersons, were the order of the day; public officials were spiritless,\nand dared not command the already murmuring troops to restore order. The\nfirst weeks of the Assembly brought hot discussions as to the union of\nthe three orders, attempts at reactionary State measures, and the taking\nof the Bastille. Excitement grew from day to day; the suspense\nthroughout the country was tremendous. With the Parisian catastrophes\nthe whole Ancien Regime rocked and gave way from side to side; and not\nmerely privileges and feudal rights, but all State authorities vanished\nat one blow, or at the first threat from an armed mob resigned their\nfunctions. The French nation had positively no government, no laws, no\npolice, no taxation. In place of these they had journals, clubs,\nsocieties, popular songs, and Lynch law; security for person and\nproperty no longer existed; every one did according to his heart's\ndesire till a stronger than he preferred the opposite and knocked him\ndown. This state of anarchy actually went on thus till the culmination\nof the Reign of Terror; every now and then it quieted down here or\nthere, to burst out the following day at some other point with redoubled\nfury. In the midst of the omnipresent turmoil and confusion, the King, a\npowerless prisoner, sat in the Tuileries. The only quarter which\nafforded a possibility of the restoration of the State was the National\nAssembly, which was sufficiently respected and popular both with the\npeople and the National Guard, to have enforced obedience had it set\nabout it the right way. But there were two reasons which forbade the\nadoption of that way. One was that the Assembly was deprived of free\naction by the ruling theory of the Rights of Man, Liberty and Equality.\nThis included the rights of resistance against oppression, and\naccordingly every citizen might at any moment consider himself oppressed\nand authorized in resisting. It had been borne in upon these sovereign\ncitizens that the will of the sovereign people stood higher than that of\nits representatives, and that the people was at any time capable of\nre-entering upon the direct exercise of its sovereignty. It is plain\nthat under the influence of theories such as these any control over\nstreet-riots and local deeds of violence was a difficult, if not\nhopeless task. And, on the same ground, it was impracticable to attempt\nany control or regulation of press or clubs, which looked upon their\nboundless activity as the highest expression and most precious jewel of\nrevolutionary liberty. As, according to theory, State officials were to\nbe, not the lords, but the servants of the sovereign people, it became\nexpedient that they should not be named by the Central Government, but\nchosen, and that only for a short time, by the citizens. In the same\nspirit the affairs of Government were entrusted not to individual\nofficials, but to deliberating colleagues; while, as to the passing of\nlaws, the principle of equality rendered impossible the formation of an\nUpper House, or any finally decisive action on the part of the King.\nThus the Government remained powerless, legislation was hasty and\nuncertain, the lower classes unmanageable, and on very many occasions it\nwas plain that club orators and journalists who knew how to flatter the\ndemands of the masses bent both Government and National Assembly beneath\ntheir sway. More than once there arose indignation in the Assembly at so\nunworthy and dangerous a condition; but at each attempt to grapple with\nand remove it, the fear of a monarchical or aristocratic reaction fell\nupon it and paralyzed its action.\n\nIn order to control the anarchical wilfulness of demagogues and\nproletaires there was but one thing to be done, to strengthen the\nauthority of the executive. This meant restoration of discipline in the\narmy, and energetic organization of Government, extensive powers\nconferred on the police officials, sharp punishments, and swift justice.\nBut how then? If power were thus conferred upon the Government to\nrestrain proletaires and rioters, who could guarantee liberty and the\nNational Assembly against the head of the reinforced Government, against\nthe King, who had hitherto been by these chronic riots kept in\ndefenceless subjection? This dilemma led to the revolutionary spirit\ninvariably triumphing at the National Assembly. The present fear of the\nviolence of the crowd attendant at the sittings combined with the\napprehension of a future monarchical reaction. When, some years later,\nat the organization of the Republican Government, the weakness of\nauthority was again felt, more than one orator freely declared the\nexisting arrangements to be undoubtedly bad throughout, and to be\namended as soon as possible; owned that this had, indeed, been perfectly\nknown at the time of their creation in 1790, but that they were\nintentionally framed thus, in the interests of liberty, to prevent the\nKing from exercising any power. Enough--the Constitutional Assembly did\nnothing to surround personal safety and political order with any\ninviolable defence; on the contrary, they did much to open the door wide\nto the passionate and arbitrary action of the masses. We may say that\nthey thoughtlessly sowed the seeds of all the horrors of the Terror, and\nhad the sad beginnings of that development before their eyes, without\neven an attempt to avert them. This is true, most especially in the\neconomical department: the colossal transformation of the laws of\nproperty in France, which brought half the soil into new hands, and\nirresistibly threw the population at large into communistic paths, was\nout and out the work of the Constituent Assembly.\n\nFor more than twenty years I have, in my \"History of the Revolution\nPeriod,\" established these circumstances from authentic documents, and\nthus given repeated offence to the French public. I may therefore be\npermitted to feel all the greater satisfaction at such a distinguished\ninvestigator as Taine, after drawing forth numberless documents from\nParisian archives, coming to absolutely the same conclusion. All I have\nheard in the way of objection to his statements is utterly unimportant.\nAs it is not possible to drive the facts he has proved from original\ndocuments out of existence, the observation is made that though his\ninformation may be true, it is one-sided; that while he never wearies of\ndescribing revolts and misdeeds, he does not sufficiently point out in\nhow many places the Civil Guard bravely and loyally upheld civil order.\nTaine would be the last to dispute this fact; had it not been so there\nwould have been no longer any France left in the nineteenth century. But\nhe would venture to inquire whether praise be deserved by an Assembly\nwhich, as ruler of a great State, surrendered without resistance now the\nthird of it, now the half, during three years, to a bloody anarchy;\nwhether we can speak of \"fair days\" or \"humane Revolution,\" when in this\nshort period six horrible Jacqueries laid the land waste, when countless\npolitical murders remained unpunished, and military _emeutes_ and\necclesiastical brawls thrust the weapons of civil war into the hands of\nthe masses. We are told of a pure and ideal inspiration then filling\nmillions of liberty-loving and patriotic spirits; and well may we call\nthat a fair time in which noble aims and infinite hopes set all pulses\nbeating higher, and stimulate a whole people to youthful efforts, and\nfill it with fresh and energetic life. Yes, there were moments of golden\ndreams and illusions like these. Only they should have lasted longer. It\nis not through their feelings, speeches, wishes, but their deeds, that\nnations assume their historical position and receive their historical\nsentence. Taine writes the last, indeed, with an incisive pen, and often\nwith glaring colours, but essentially he gives nothing but what follows\nby indissoluble sequence from the facts of the Revolution.\n\nOn certain points, indeed, one may notice a few omissions in his work,\nor raise a few objections, though they do not affect it as a whole.\nSpace does not permit me to dwell on all particular instances; I must be\nsatisfied with pointing out a few. While during the first months of the\nRevolution the agitation of the lower classes was identical in town and\ncountry, and the lawless violence of artisans and peasants pursued the\nsame ends by the same means, one of the most prominent features of the\nlater phase, the Terror, was the gradual introduction of a war of\ninterest between the people of the capital and the villages. The more\nthe power of the Mountain and the Parisian Commune increased, the more\nabsolutely the booty of the Revolution fell to the share of the town\nproletaires, at the cost not only of the great landed proprietors, but\nthe small farmers as well. Our first impression at the aspect of this\nrivalry is the selfishness and greed of the Parisian demagogues; but we\nmay easily convince ourselves that these could never have attained to so\nextended an activity if existing circumstances had not offered the\npossibility of a class war. But for any disquisition on this subject, or\nallusion to the causes that, in the first years of the Revolution,\nprepared its way, we look through Taine's pages in vain. Again, in the\nrepresentation of the Ancien Regime, his attention is pre-eminently\nturned to social relations connected with the land. Had he with an\nequally comprehensive and minute care studied the different strata, the\ninterests and wants of the town population, the problem alluded to would\nhave solved itself.\n\nIt is with admirable insight and incontrovertible reasoning that Taine\nshows the logical untenableness and practical mischief of the theory of\nequality, both in the writings of Rousseau and the action of the\nConstituent Assembly. He proves the contradiction between this equality\nand the very nature of man, and how, consequently, pure democracy\nrendered the development of political liberty unattainable. In perfect\nagreement with Tocqueville, he points to the absolute necessity, under\nthe circumstances of the time, of aristocratic institutions, for the\ncreation and preservation of a free State, and explains how deeply\nseated these are in the needs and claims of human nature. This portion\nof his work is indeed masterly; and the more widely extended the\nequalitarian superstition among the Liberal parties of our day, the more\none could desire Taine's views to exercise a strong and wide-spread\ninfluence. But, on the other hand, it appears to me that by this very\nconception of political institutions, our author has been led to show\nhimself something more than just in the sentence he passes on the\nrepresentatives of this period, the nobles and prelates of 1789. This is\none of the few incongruities already alluded to between the first and\nsecond volume. After reading of the luxury, artificiality, and idleness\nof aristocratic society in the former, and coming with the author to the\nconviction that terrible consequences must attend such a condition, one\nis surprised to find in the latter that these privileged ones were the\nbest, the most discerning and patriotic portion of the nation, whose\nannihilation or exile brought about the same injurious results that the\nexpulsion of the Huguenots had done. This contradiction is not cleared\nup by the fact that in the years immediately preceding the Revolution,\nand chiefly through the influence of Rousseau, a sentimental humanity\nhad prevailed in high circles, that here, too, it was the fashion to\nspeak of a return to an idyllic life of nature, of universal brotherly\nlove, and of the relief of every form of distress. For these\ntransformations remained, in point of fact, only fanciful phrases of the\nsalons. When Louis XVI., Turgot, and Calonne, really desired to set\nabout such philanthropic reforms in good earnest, it was, as we have\nalready seen, these sentimental nobles themselves who hindered their\neffort, and by nullifying reform brought about the Revolution. When the\ncatastrophe came, many of them had sufficient insight into the new\nposition of affairs to make haste and repudiate those privileges which\nthroughout the land had been already trampled under foot by an unchained\npeople. The horrible persecution to which they were subjected, in utter\ndisregard of all existing rights and all human feeling, with\nbloodthirsty cruelty and shameless greed, must ever insure for the\nvictims the compassion and sympathy of every right-minded observer; and\nin order fully to justify revolutionary laws against emigrants, one\nwould be driven to advance sophisms only, not arguments. But all this\ndoes not affect the question, whether, as Taine assumes, these\npersecuted ones did hold a distinguished place in the nation for\npolitical virtue, intellectual culture, and capacity for action.\nNeighbouring nations, so far as I know, without exception took at the\ntime an entirely different view. Doubtless, there were among the\nemigrants many who won respect and regard in the regions whither their\nflight had led them. But the great majority, by their thoughtless\narrogance, mutual bickerings, and shameless frivolity, left behind them\na bad reputation; whereas a hundred years before the exiled Huguenots,\nby their unity, earnestness, and industry, won, wherever they went, the\nrespect and gratitude of their new countrymen.\n\n    HEINRICH VON SYBEL.\n\n\n\n\nWHAT IS THE ACTUAL CONDITION OF IRELAND?\n\n\nReturning to settle in Ireland after an absence that began more than\ntwenty years ago, I found two things strongly claiming my attention.\nOne, was the very great advance in material well-being which my country\nappeared to have made. The other, was the fact that both Englishmen and\nIrishmen appeared resolutely to ignore this progress. Nearly all who\nwrite and speak about Ireland, either dwell upon her grievances or\nassume poverty as her normal condition. I know not of any who have\nattempted to record her returning prosperity. Yet there are few facts in\nmodern history better worthy of notice than the advance in material\nwealth which has taken place in Ireland during the thirty years between\n1846 and 1876.\n\nThe year 1879 marks the close of just one-third of a century from the\ngreat famine. The first thirty years of this period, 1846-76, were years\nof continual advance in well-being. From 1877 and down to the present\nyear a reaction has been going on, which is largely connected with a\ngeneral depression of trade all over the world. For reasons which will\nappear hereafter, I do not hold that this reaction is likely to be\npermanent.\n\nIt is true that at the beginning of that period the country was in the\nvery lowest depths of poverty and depression. The starting-point\ntherefore was a very backward one: and the wonder is that so much\nadvance should have been made, considering not only the backwardness of\nthe starting-point but the difficulties of the road.\n\nI shall not attempt to depict the state of things which prevailed at the\nclose of the great potato famine. The condition of the country is well\nknown; the facts are in the recollection of many persons now living; and\nthe evidence is within the reach of all inquirers. I may safely assume\nthat Ireland then was among the very poorest of all the countries in\nEurope. What is her position now?\n\nIn discussing the social condition of any country, the population\nquestion naturally comes to the front. Is the population pressing unduly\non the means of subsistence? then there is something wrong, and until\nthis is set right progress is impossible. On the other hand, if the\npopulation is so sparse as to leave the resources of the country\nundeveloped, there is also something wrong, though in this case the evil\nis far less. The population, such as it is, may be prosperous and\nadvancing, though it is not producing all it might.\n\nThe former was notoriously the state of things in Ireland before\n1847.[21] In 1845 (the year immediately preceding the famine) the\npopulation was at the highest point it attained during the present\ncentury, and probably the highest it ever reached. It was estimated at\n8,295,061. In 1847, the year when the famine was at its height, the\nnumbers are given as 8,025,274. In 1875, just thirty years after the\nmaximum, the numbers had fallen to 5,309,494. In 1877 they were\nestimated at 5,338,906, showing an increase over 1875 of 29,412.\n\nIt is a familiar fact that the population of 1845 and 1847 was\nexcessive. Whether the present population may not be defective in regard\nof productive power is a question not without importance, but not\nimmediately relevant. What we are now dealing with is the material\nwelfare of the existing population; and it is clear that five millions\ncan live where eight cannot. But are the five millions better off in\nsome proportion to the price the country has paid for the decrease in\npopulation? And is there a real advance in the condition of the people,\nnot a mere rise out of beggary and starvation?\n\nIn attempting an answer to a question of this nature, one looks\nnaturally to the rate of wages first. But this test is an imperfect one:\npartly because local variations are still considerable; partly because\nmoney payments in many places and among large classes are more or less\nsupplemented by subsistence drawn directly from the land. Besides, a\nmere increase in money wages may mean little or nothing, unless the\nincreased wages possess increased purchasing power, and there be at the\nsame time an upward tendency in the standard of living. Putting aside\nthe wages question accordingly (to be discussed hereafter), let us try\nto find other indications of the extent and nature of the changes in the\npeople's condition since the famine. A test of some value, though not\nabsolutely conclusive by itself, will be afforded by changes in the area\nof farms. It is notorious that one of the causes which most contributed\nto bring about the famine and its miseries was the small size of\nholdings. Now the census returns show that from 1851, very shortly after\nthe famine, there has been a steady decrease in the number of farms\nunder fifteen acres, and a steady increase in the number of farms\nbetween fifteen and thirty acres, as well as in farms exceeding thirty\nacres in area. Up to 1861 the number of holdings not exceeding fifteen\nacres had declined fifty-five per cent., while those above fifteen acres\nhad increased 133 per cent. The number of farms between fifteen and\nthirty acres was in 1861 double what it had been in 1841, and the farms\nabove thirty acres amounted in 1861 to 157,833, against 48,625, which\nhad been their number twenty years before. Between 1861 and 1871 farms\nunder fifteen acres decreased by 12,548, and farms above thirty acres\nincreased by 1470. According to the latest returns (1875) the farms not\nexceeding one acre in area were 51,459; those of one to five acres were\n69,098; those of five to fifteen acres, 166,959; fifteen to thirty\nacres, 137,669; the total above thirty acres being 160,298 holdings.\n\nThis distribution of the land seems to indicate a considerable\nimprovement compared with the state of things prevailing before the\nfamine. Unfortunately the increase in the size of holdings has not been\nattended by a corresponding decrease in the number held on an insecure\ntenure. Tenancy at will continues to be the rule, and permanency the\nexception, in our land tenure. I have made an attempt to estimate\nroughly the classes of landholders. The \"Domesday\" list of proprietors\nof land gives the number of owners of one acre and under ten as 6892,\nholding 28,968 acres, or an average of a little over four acres each:\nbetween ten acres and fifty there are 7746 owners, holding 195,525\nacres, or an average a little over twenty-six acres: between fifty acres\nand a hundred there are 3479 owners, holding 250,147 acres, or an\naverage of just under seventy-two acres. These make up a body of small\nproprietors, owning from one to a hundred acres, numbering 18,117.\n_Eason's Almanac_ for 1879, which has been published while I write,\nestimates the number of \"proprietors in fee\" of agricultural holdings at\n20,217. The same authority gives the number of leaseholders in\nperpetuity as 10,298; for terms of years exceeding thirty-one as 13,712;\nfor thirty-one years and under, 47,623 (many of which may be short\nleases); and of leases for lives, or lives and years alternative, as\n63,759. The number of tenancies at will is 526,628, or 77.2 per cent, of\nthe whole number of holdings. These statistics were collected in 1870,\nand they have doubtless been in some degree modified by the working of\nthe Church Act and the Land Act. I have omitted from my extracts from\nthe Domesday list the proprietors of under one acre. These are given in\n_Thom's Directory_ as 36,144, holding 9065 acres; but their holdings do\nnot affect the present question, as they are mostly non-agricultural.\nThe estimate in _Eason's Almanac_ purports to relate wholly to\nagricultural holdings. Domesday includes all classes.\n\nAnother index of the condition of a people may be found in the way they\nare housed. Mean and comfortless dwellings imply not only a low standard\nof comfort, but often a low morality. Let us see how this matter has\nstood in Ireland. The Census Commissioners of 1841 divided the dwellings\nof the people into four classes. The fourth, or lowest, comprised all\nmud cabins having only one room. Of this class there were in all\nIreland, according to the 1841 census, 491,278. In the last census,\n1871, the number had fallen to 155,675. The third-class dwellings were\nalso built of mud, but contained three or four rooms, with windows; the\nlatter convenience being by no means universally present in the\none-roomed cabin of the fourth class. Of the third class the census of\n1841 enumerated 533,297; by 1871 this number had fallen to 357,126. The\nsecond class are described as good farmhouses, and in towns, houses\nhaving from five to nine rooms. Of this class in 1841 there were\n264,184; and in 1871 the number had increased to 387,660. The first\nclass of houses increased during the same period from 40,080 to 60,919.\nLet us see now in what way the population has been distributed in the\ndifferent classes of houses. In 1841 the number of families occupying\nfirst-class houses was 31,333. In 1871 the number had risen to 49,693.\nDuring the same period the number of families in second-class houses\nrose from 241,664 to 357,752. On the other hand, the families in\nthird-class houses decreased from 574,386 to 432,774; and those in the\nfourth-class, or one-roomed cabins, from 625,356 to 227,379. By a\ncurious coincidence, the _proportion_ of families to houses was the same\nin 1841 and in 1871--one hundred and eleven families to one hundred\nhouses. In this way the very great shifting in the _classes_ is all the\nmore clearly proved to indicate a real rise in the condition of the\npeople.\n\nIn connection with this part of my subject, I may now proceed to discuss\nthe wages question and the condition of the labouring population. Of the\nactual number of this class I can find no accurate return. But we have\nalready seen that the number of families inhabiting the lowest class of\nhouses (and these may be assumed all to belong to the lowest class of\nlabourers) was about 227,400. As the census of 1871 gave the average\nnumber of a family as 5.07, or 507 persons to 100 families, we may\nestimate the number of this class at 2274 multiplied by 507, or\n1,152,918. Those who inhabit a better class of house may be safely\nassumed on the whole to be better off in other respects. Now the money\nwages of the ordinary agricultural labourer are 1_s._ 6_d._ a day in the\nmost remote and backward places. This is the minimum, and in harvest\ntime the labourers earn 2_s._ 6_d._ a day. A great many labourers have\nsmall holdings; but as these are not rent-free they do not count\ndirectly as an element in wages. The way in which they do count is that\nthe people are not so overworked but that the labourer and his family\ncan attend to the holding, grow their own potatoes, feed the pig,\n&c.--thereby eking out the actual money payment.\n\nThe diet of these labourers (I am still referring to the most backward\nand remote parts of Ireland) is tea and bread for breakfast, potatoes\nand a little bacon for dinner, and oatmeal porridge for supper. The\npeople have quite risen out of the \"potatoes and point\" stage of\nfeeding. Of course, on Fridays and other fast-days, Roman Catholics\nabstain from flesh meat; but there are few places so remote from the sea\nthat fresh herrings are not to be had, and at any rate salt ones are\nalways available. On the other hand, on Sundays and holidays many of the\nlabouring families contrive to have butcher's meat; and I am told that\nin certain districts there is one day in the year when every family\namong the peasantry makes an invariable rule to eat a dinner of fresh\nmeat, some animal (often a fowl) being killed on purpose to furnish this\nmeal. This is probably some relic of a sacrificial observance.\n\nThe condition of the people being such as I have described, one would\nnaturally expect not to find pauperism very prevalent. As a matter of\nfact it is not. The average daily number of paupers in the workhouses\nthroughout 1876 was 43,235, and of recipients of out-door relief 31,600:\nbringing up the total to 74,835. The average of persons in receipt of\nrelief was 140.6 in 10,000 of population. This daily average represents\nthe current subsisting mass of pauperism, and is in a considerable\nmeasure made up of the old, infirm, and sick. Of able-bodied paupers,\nthe males were only 1697 in the daily average of workhouse inmates, and\nthe females were 4130. There were 10,134 healthy children under fifteen\nin the workhouses, and the other inmates were either sick in hospital or\npermanently unable to work. These figures seem to be the very reverse of\nalarming. Permanent pauperism is not a very virulent social disorder\nwhen only two able-bodied persons to every five hundred of the\npopulation are in receipt of in-door relief, and when the whole\npermanent pauper population barely exceeds fourteen in a thousand. But\nthough permanent pauperism may be well in hand, casual pauperism may be\nat a high pitch. Let us see how this matter has stood. I shall first\ntake the statistics of 1876, and then try to modify my conclusions by\nsuch later figures as may be available. In 1876 the population of\nEngland and Wales stood at 24,244,000, and the total of paupers in\nreceipt of relief, in-door and out-door, on the 1st of January of that\nyear, was 752,887; Scotland, with a population of 3,527,000, had a total\npauper population on the 1st of January, 1876, of 66,733. In Ireland, on\nthe same date, the total population being 5,321,600, the paupers\namounted to 77,913. In other words, at a rough estimate, on the 1st of\nJanuary, 1876, about one person in every thirty-three in England and\nWales was in receipt of relief as a pauper; in Scotland, about one in\nevery fifty-three; while in Ireland the proportion was only one in\nsixty-eight. A similar proportion appears in the incidence of the\npoor-rate. In 1876 England and Wales paid at the rate of 6_s._ 0-3/4_d._\nper head of population; Scotland 5_s_. 0-1/2_d._; Ireland only 3_s._\n4_d._\n\nOf course these figures must undergo modification in view of the altered\ncircumstances of the present time. The statistics of 1876 are not an\naccurate guide to the facts of 1879. During the last three years there\nhas been considerable depression of trade; and it may very well be that\nthe returns of this year will indicate an ebb in the tide of prosperity.\nBut, unless I am very much mistaken, after making all allowances, it\nwill probably be found that Ireland is the part of the United Kingdom\nleast affected by the present prolonged commercial crisis.[22]\n\nThe figures and facts recorded above will probably astonish the\nconsiderable class of persons to whom the word \"Irish\" has an air of\nwanting something, unless it is followed by \"pauper.\" A smaller but\nperhaps not less intelligent class--that of English travellers in\nIreland--will promptly jump to the conclusion that the figures are\ncooked; they will argue, \"We have travelled in Ireland, and have been\nbeset with beggars; how, then, can the country be so free from\npauperism? Surely the true state of the case is that the people keep out\nof the workhouses merely in order to live on public charity in another\nform?\" It cannot, I regret to say, be denied that mendicancy is very\ncommon in Ireland; so common as to be little less than a national\nscandal. There is, however, something to be said in mitigation of\njudgment, though perhaps not in defence. It is a matter in which figures\nare of little use; for no one could, by any possibility, estimate how\nmany persons live wholly by begging. That there are in every community\nsome persons who do may be taken as certain. That their number is larger\nin proportion to the bulk of the population in a Roman Catholic than in\na Protestant community, is antecedently probable. The theory of the\nRoman Catholic religion positively encourages mendicancy. It is held to\nbe no sin to live on alms, and to be a positive merit to give alms.\n_Never turn away thy face from any poor man_, is a text acted on by\ndevout Romanists in its most literal acceptation. The result is not\ndifficult to foresee. It must, however, be recorded to the credit of the\nIrish Catholic clergy, that they are beginning to see the folly of\nindiscriminate almsgiving; and though they are hampered in no small\ndegree by the traditions of their Church, they have made many successful\nefforts in the direction of the organization of charity. Another\ninfluence, which largely contributes to the existence of the mendicancy\nthat scandalizes the traveller, is the tradition of recent poverty. The\nhabits of centuries are not effaced in a generation. Not much more than\ntwenty years ago, begging was a recognized necessity in the life of the\nIrish poor. But now, when times are moderately prosperous, begging is\nlimited almost wholly to old people who hang about the doors of Catholic\nchapels, and about places frequented by tourists. On the roads leading\nto such \"show places,\" also, the tourist will be often beset by little\nknots of children clamouring for half-pence; but these are no more\nprofessional beggars than a gentleman who amuses himself with pheasant\nshooting is a professional dealer in game. It is a form of excitement\nwith them; not a very high one to be sure, but not meaner or more\nvicious than baccarat or rouge-et-noir.\n\nStill, when all is said, there is more mendicancy in Ireland than would\nexist if things were in a healthier state; and where mendicancy is\ncommon, pauperism must fluctuate largely. In more prosperous times, a\nlarger number of mendicants can find support from a more copious supply\nof alms. When evil times curtail the fund whence alms are supplied, the\nmendicant must fall back on legal relief. From this point of view the\nsmall increase of six in ten thousand, already referred to,[23] seems to\nshow that the commercial depression of 1877 has not largely touched the\nrevenues of the Irish mendicant!\n\nAn account of the condition of the Irish people would be incomplete\nwithout some reference to the statistics of drunkenness and crime. Here\nwe shall find some results of a rather surprising kind. Thus, in England\nand Wales in 1876, the population being 24,244,000, the number of\ndrunkards brought before magistrates was 205,567; being, at an\napproximate estimate, one in every 118 of the population. In Scotland,\nthe population being 3,527,800, the drunkards arrested numbered 26,209,\nor about one in 134. In Ireland, the population being 5,321,600, the\ndrunkards brought before magistrates were 112,253; showing the enormous\nproportion of one in every 47 of the people. Of course these figures in\nall three kingdoms include very many cases of repeated conviction, so\nthat it would not be fair to say that one man in every 118 in England,\nstill less in every 47 in Ireland, is actually a drunkard. All the same,\nthis comparison is sufficiently alarming as well as perplexing. It is\nrather paradoxical to find Scotland showing a smaller proportion of\napparent drunkards than either of the other kingdoms; and some people\nmight be ill-natured enough to hint that this result depended mainly on\ngreater skill in keeping out of the hands of the police. On the other\nhand, a patriotic Irishman might, without any very flagrant paradox,\nargue that the fact of so many Irish being arrested for being drunk\nproves that they are actually a more sober people. It takes less to make\nan Irishman drunk, partly because he is more excitable in temperament,\nand partly because he drinks but seldom. The habitually temperate man,\nwhen he does casually exceed, shows his condition very promptly; the\nhabitual toper can dissemble it far longer. Another reason that may be\ngiven for the state of things here indicated, is that the police force\nis more numerous in Ireland in proportion to the population than in\nEngland or Scotland;[24] and as, for reasons which will be hereafter\nseen, the police have actually less to do, they are able to expend a\nquantity of surplus energy in arresting drunkards whom the busier\nconstables of England and Scotland would allow to stagger quietly home.\nThat some or all these causes are in operation to bring about the\nstartling excess of apparent drunkenness in Ireland, is manifest when we\ncome to discuss the statistics of crime. The connection of crime with\ndrink is a commonplace of moralists; but, like most other commonplaces,\nit requires to be seriously tested by the light of facts.\n\nThe crimes with which drink is most closely connected are naturally\nthose which come under the class of offences against the person. Drink\nmay, indeed, prompt offences against property; but chiefly in an\nindirect fashion. A drunkard is very likely to be in want of things\nwhich he may seek to obtain by theft; but drink is not the sole cause of\npoverty, and professional thieves are not habitual drunkards. Referring\nthen to the class of offences against the person, we find that in 1876\nonly four persons were sentenced to death in all Ireland. The number\nsentenced in England was 32. Here is already a considerable discrepancy;\nfor the population of England is to that of Ireland in the proportion of\nonly about four and two-fifths to one, and the death sentences in\nEngland were eight times as numerous as in Ireland.[25] But this is not\nall. Nearly all the murders in Ireland are agrarian, and with these\ndrink is only casually if at all connected. On the other hand, nearly\nevery murder in England is committed more or less under the influence of\nintoxication. Turning to the secondary punishments, we find twelve\nsentences of penal servitude for life in England, while there were none\nin Ireland. Ten of these twelve ought perhaps to be discounted, as\nrepresenting ten commutations of capital punishment, for of the\nthirty-two persons sentenced to death in England only twenty-two were\nexecuted. But the most remarkable discrepancy is seen when we come to\nsentences of penal servitude for terms of years. Of these there were\nonly fifty in Ireland against 280 in England. In the absence of returns\nof crime actually committed (including undetected offences), it is not\neasy to pronounce an opinion of much value; but from the statistics of\nconviction it would appear that violent crimes against the person are\nmuch less prevalent in proportion to the population in Ireland than in\nEngland. These results are by no means contrary to reasonable\nexpectation, when we consider the vast congestion of population in\nLondon and other cities in England, to which there is no parallel\nanywhere in Ireland. But, such as they are, they seem to show that the\napparent addiction of Irishmen to strong drink is not attended by a\nproportionate addiction to the more serious forms of crime. On the other\nhand (and this must be recorded for whatever it may be worth), we have\n1078 sentences of imprisonment and other minor penalties inflicted in\nIreland, against only 1533 similar sentences in England.\n\nTurning now to the class of offences against property with violence, we\nfind two sentences of penal servitude for life in England, against none\nin Ireland; 271 sentences for terms of years in England, against 26 in\nIreland; 898 sentences of minor terms of imprisonment against only 69 in\nIreland. In cases of this nature one might naturally expect drink to be\na considerable predisposing cause. On the other hand, there is no\nassignable connection between drink and crime unaccompanied by violence,\nexcept in so far as poverty is an effect of drink and a cause for crime.\nEven here, however, the proportion fails; for the convictions for minor\noffences against property in Ireland were only 798, against 10,674 in\nEngland: and of these only 104 suffered penal servitude for terms of\nyears, against 1063 in England.\n\nAll this, it may be said, simply shows that there must be a great deal\nof undetected crime in Ireland. To a certain extent, no doubt, this is\ntrue; but the remark applies chiefly to some of the more serious crimes,\nespecially agrarian murder. There is not the same motive for concealing\nminor forms of crime, nor perhaps would even the Ribbon organization\nmake such concealment practicable. To be sure it may be urged that,\nthough minor crime is not purposely concealed, the police are too busy\nkeeping the peace and looking after Fenians and Ribbonmen to have time\nfor detecting ordinary thefts. This fact may, indeed, have something to\ndo with the apparent scarcity of petty crime in Ireland; but this is\ncertainly not the aspect of the case usually dwelt upon, by Judges of\nAssizes, for instance, when a Grand Jury sends up a pair of white gloves\ninstead of a sheaf of criminal indictments. However this may be, I\nmerely record the facts as I find them; leaving readers, for the most\npart, to draw what inferences the facts seem to suggest. One inference\nthey suggest to me is, that Irishmen are not such very drunken animals\nafter all; or else that they are somehow or other an exception to the\nrule which connects drink and crime. The undeniable blot on the Irish\ncharacter--agrarian outrage--is not to be accounted for by drink. The\ntrue explanation is familiar to all who really know the country. The\nIrish peasant is very largely dependent on the soil for his support, and\nbelieves himself to be wholly so. He also believes himself to have a\nmoral and a historical right to the possession of the soil; a belief\nwhich contains a considerable admixture of truth, provided it be stated\nwith the proper limitations. Unluckily, the Irish peasant holds it\nwithout any limitation at all; and herein lies the secret of his\nhostility to the law. The peasant ejected, or in fear of ejectment,\nlooks on himself as a ruined man (which he need not be), and as a\nwronged man (which he is only very partially). Men ruined and wronged\nhave always been raw material for brigands; and the Ribbonman is simply\na brigand in a frieze coat.\n\nI have no desire to compose an Essay on the Land Question; but it is\nabsolutely impracticable to discuss Irish social economy without finding\nthe Land Question in one's way. It is the question which most closely\nconcerns the industrial classes; for the land is the mainstay of Irish\nindustry. It is the pivot upon which all Irish politics turn; for\nalthough priestly influence counts for a great deal, that influence\nitself depends in great measure on the land hunger of the peasantry. I\nfeel that I should be leaving Hamlet out of the play if I did not say a\nfew words on the matter. As I have already hinted, the Irish peasant has\nthree reasons for his desire to be \"rooted in the soil.\" One is a\ntraditional reason. He thinks that his forefathers were unjustly ousted\nby foreign conquerors. His belief rests on an utterly distorted view of\nhistory. It is true that eight hundred years ago a few of the ancestors\nof a few of the existing peasantry might in a sort of sense have been\ncalled landowners. But so far as the Gaelic race survives, it would be\nequally true to say that the ancestors of the existing peasantry had\nbeen the serfs or the slaves of barbarous chieftains. The old Gaelic\ntribal ownership, if left to itself, might or might not have ripened\ninto a peasant proprietary; but the only real grievance which the\nexisting Gaelic peasantry can allege, is that the English conquest\nforcibly interrupted the natural process of evolution. Moreover, a large\nnumber of the existing peasants are no true Gael at all, but the\ndescendants of Danes, Normans, and the various waves of Saxon settlers\nfrom Elizabeth to William of Orange. In parts of Ireland there are even\nto be found the descendants of French Huguenots, of Scotch fugitives\ninvolved in the Stuart insurrections, and of refugees of 1793. That such\na _colluvies gentium_ should claim to be the heirs of Septs which\noccupied the land\n\n    \"Ere the emerald gem of the Western world\n        Had been set in the crown of a stranger,\"\n\nis simply a proof of profound ignorance of history. Such, however, is\nthe vague traditional belief; and it is complicated with a moral\nsentiment, that he who tills the land has a right to live by the land.\nThe sentiment is open to no objection, provided it be understood that\nthe land is an instrument of production in which the whole community is\ninterested. The cultivator has the same right to live by the land as the\nartisan to live by his handicraft, and no more--that is, both peasant\nand artisan have a right to expect that the social system shall be so\nadjusted that neither shall be unjustly deprived of the fruit of his\nlabour. But neither peasant nor artisan can claim that any instrument of\nproduction shall be used for the sole sake of the producer. Hence, even\nif peasant proprietorship were undeniably the best thing for the\npeasant, it does not follow that he has a moral right to it, unless it\nbe good for the whole community as well. This consideration is too\noften neglected by the thorough-going advocates of peasant\nproprietorship. They assume that the interests of the peasants are the\nonly interests to be considered. In Ireland, indeed, they are not far\nwrong; for the peasantry _are_ very nearly the whole community. This,\nhowever, only raises the previous question, whether peasant\nproprietorship would be a success in Ireland--of which hereafter. The\nlast and most practical of the agrarian arguments is that a tenant\nevicted is a man ruined. Even this is only partially true, and at most\nis only an argument against capricious eviction. It is conclusive as\nagainst the system of tenancy at will, or any of those short tenures\nwhich are, in fact, a standing notice to quit. It holds good in favour\nof peasant proprietorship to this extent--that the ruin of a peasant\nproprietor can only occur through his own fault or misfortune, and not\nthrough the caprice of a landlord. In short, the discontent of the Irish\npeasantry proves that the Anglo-Irish system of tenure is about the\nworst of all possible systems; but it proves little or nothing in favour\nof peasant ownership.\n\nMy own opinion (_valeat quantum_) is that the soil and climate of\nIreland render the country utterly unfit to maintain a considerable body\nof peasant proprietors; but that, nevertheless, it would be wise and\npolitic to establish peasant properties as widely as may be practicable.\nThe climate is notoriously damp, and variable in the extreme. Grain\ncrops are inferior and precarious--root crops are not much better--even\nmeadows are untrustworthy, because of the difficulty of haymaking--but\nIrish pasture is perhaps the best in the world. Natural conditions mark\nout Ireland as a pastoral and cattle-breeding country; and such a\ncountry is the destined home of _latifundia_. It is not merely that\ncattle require large spaces of pasture; but the trade in cattle requires\ncapital, and requires the power of staying through seasons of adversity.\nAn attempt to breed or deal in cattle by a class of peasant proprietors,\nacting singly, could only end in ruin; a ruin even more complete than\nbad seasons would bring upon unsuccessful cultivators of grain. Another\nproduct for which Ireland is eminently fitted is timber.[26] This also\nobviously requires spaces of land, and intervals of idle capital,\nutterly incompatible with any system of small holdings. Nature would\nseem to have marked out Ireland as a country to be thinly populated;\nhistorical accident once made her one of the most populous of countries,\nand we all know what came of it. The people were dependent on a single\nkind of food; it failed, and misery ensued such as modern Europe had\nnever beheld. The scenes of 1847 we may devoutly hope will never be\nwitnessed again; but such a season as 1878-79 would be a trial that few\npeasant proprietors could stand. Why then do I say that a peasant\nproprietary ought to be created? Because I believe that in the\nexperiment is to be found the sole method of convincing the Irish\npeasants that their true interest lies in quite another direction. The\npeasant now believes that all he wants in order to be prosperous is to\nbe \"rooted in the soil.\" It is of no use to appeal to abstract\nreasoning. He knows that he has to pay rent, and that he is liable to\neviction for non-payment. Carefully as recent legislation has guarded\nhim against capricious eviction, he knows that if his landlord chooses\nto pay for turning him out, out he must go. The few of his neighbours\nwho do acquire freeholds, he perceives to be comparatively prosperous.\nHe does not take into account that the prosperity of the freeholder is\nmaintained by precisely the same exceptional energy and thrift which in\nthe first instance enabled him to secure the freehold. Besides, it is\nundeniable that _caeteris paribus_ a man who holds rent-free is likely to\nbe better off than one who pays rent; and so long as rent is the rule\nand freehold the exception, the few freeholders will seem at least to\npossess an advantage over the many rentpayers. In short, the peasant\nfarmer will never cease to believe ownership a panacea for all his ills,\nuntil he shall have tried it, and failed. Of course it does not\nabsolutely follow that the experiment of creating a peasant proprietary\nmust needs fail. It may succeed; and then the Irish land problem is\nsolved. For the reasons given above, however, I think it would fail. If\nall the holdings of fifteen acres and under (there are 285,000[27] of\nthem, or nearly half the whole number of farms in Ireland) were turned\ninto peasant properties tomorrow, I believe they would in thirty, or at\nmost in fifty, years be recast into large cattle farms, owned probably\nfor the most part by joint-stock companies. The process of consolidation\nwould be partly the buying out of ruined peasants after some such\nseasons as we are now undergoing; partly a voluntary union of the\nresidue, who would find association desirable in order to secure a\nsufficiency of land and capital. But those who might be compelled to\npart with their lands could no longer ascribe their ruin to the tenure\nby which they held. It would be made clear to them and to all concerned\nthat it is the laws of Nature and not the laws of England which hinder\nIreland from maintaining a dense agricultural population.\n\nIt may be urged against what I have here said, that it is hardly worth\nwhile engaging in a social revolution merely in order that the last\nstate of things may turn out on the whole very similar to the first. I\ncannot deny the force of this remark; though I may suggest, in my turn,\nthat perhaps it is worth while to make some sacrifice for the sake of\nattaining stable equilibrium in the social system. I am persuaded that\nthe one great difficulty in Irish affairs is to convince the peasant\nthat the law is a power not hostile but friendly to him. This is no easy\ntask. It is not so very long since the law actually was the hard master\nit is still supposed to be. Nor is the peasant's own attitude of mind a\nvery easy one to deal with. He clamours loudly to be \"rooted in the\nsoil,\" or, in other words, to be made absolute owner of his farm; but he\nclamours not less loudly against the absenteeship of his landlord. He\nutterly fails to perceive the inconsistency of his position. He cannot\neat his cake and have his cake. He cannot be at one and the same time\ntenant to a resident lord of the manor, and owner in fee-simple of his\nown holding. Absolute peasant ownership is _prima facie_ incompatible\nwith the very existence of a landed aristocracy; and it may be some\nperception of this that induces certain of the land agitators to propose\nfixity of tenure at a quit-rent rather than absolute peasant\nproprietorship. But it is clear that this is a mere evasion of the\ndifficulty. A landlord, who is merely a rent-charger, has no more motive\nto reside on his estate than if he sold it and lived on the interest of\nthe purchase-money. There is no doubt a sense in which the two things\nare not absolutely incompatible. Peasant properties might be intermixed\nwith large estates owned by resident landlords. And this would certainly\nconstitute a state of things by no means undesirable; in fact, it is\nwhat might possibly emerge from the experiment I have mentioned above. I\nthink it more than probable that a great deal of the land, after such an\nexperiment, would fall into the hands of joint-stock companies; but a\nconsiderable portion might also be bought up by individuals, who might\nchoose to become resident landlords. It must, however, be remembered\nthat there are many things besides agrarian agitation which tempt Irish\nlandlords to become absentees. Residence in Ireland is attended with\nmany drawbacks and discomforts, even when a landlord is on the best of\nterms with his tenantry. Absenteeism is no new complaint; Adam Smith\ndiscussed proposals for an absentee-tax. Its prevalence is not\nuncommonly ascribed to the Union, but it might as well be ascribed to\nthe Deluge. The most potent causes of absenteeism in the latter half of\nthe nineteenth century are the City of Dublin Steam Navigation Company,\nand the London and North-Western Railway. These, and kindred\ninstitutions, are also the channels which conduct a vast deal of wealth\ninto Ireland; and if absenteeism constitutes a perennial drain on her\nresources, the facilities of locomotion cause the drain to return\nten-fold.[28] If these facilities did not exist, it does not follow that\nthe landlords who remained at home would necessarily be of much use to\nthe community. The squires and _squireens_ in Lever's and Maxwell's\nnovels are very amusing to read about; but they are a race that nobody\nat the present day would seriously wish to revive. However this may be,\nthere is little inducement for the existing landlords to remain resident\nin a country where they are continually threatened, and occasionally\nshot. I cannot help thinking that in the tendency to absenteeism,\ncourageous statesmanship might find the means of solving the Land\nproblem. There should be little difficulty, one would imagine, in\npersuading a number of existing Irish landlords to part with their\nestates for a reasonable compensation.[29] The Church Surplus is at hand\nto provide the purchase-money. After deducting the sums to be paid to\nthe Intermediate Education Board, and to the National School Teachers'\nPension Fund, there will remain nearly four millions in the hands of the\nTemporalities Commission. This money judiciously advanced to tenant\nfarmers would enable a considerable number of them to acquire the\nfreehold of their farms, and thus the foundations of a peasant\nproprietary might be laid without any confiscation or disturbance of\nvested rights. The Royal Commission on Agriculture would perhaps be a\ngood medium for acquiring information on this subject. They might\ninclude in the scope of their inquiry the best method of carrying out\nsome such scheme as has been here indicated.\n\nHaving set out with no intention beyond that of offering a general view\nof a few leading facts and figures relating to Irish affairs, I find\nmyself insensibly gliding into a political discussion. So far as I have\nany excuse for this, it must be found in the irrepressible character of\nthe Land problem; which, as I before remarked, can by no possibility be\nevaded by any one who writes on Irish social economy. Yet this problem\nitself is in one aspect simply a phase of the struggle going on all over\nthe world between, labour and capital. Side by side with this there is\nyet another struggle going on, which is also a phase of a world-wide\nconflict. It is the old story of Priesthood against Free Thought; but in\nIreland, like nearly all things Irish, it bears a peculiar aspect of its\nown. Many a man here would be amazed to be told that he is fighting on\nthe side of the priests; yet the Irish Orange Tory, and to some extent\neven the Irish Evangelical clergyman, is really and truly (though of\ncourse unconsciously) helping the policy of the Roman Church. But it\nwould extend my essay beyond all reasonable limits to discuss this\nmatter; and besides, I set out to write on statistics, and not on\npolitics.[30]\n\n    EDWARD STANLEY ROBERTSON.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[21] The statistics in this Essay are chiefly taken from _Thom's Almanac\nand Official Directory for 1878_. The tables given in that Almanac are\nfor the most part brought down no later than 1876. It so happens,\nhowever, that 1876 is a very convenient date for the purpose of this\npaper. It marks the conclusion of a period of just thirty years from the\nworst crisis of the Potato Famine; and it marks also the conclusion of a\ncycle of commercial inflation, some of whose results were strongly felt\nin Ireland.\n\nI have, of course, consulted other authorities besides _Thom's\nDirectory_, but I shall specify these as occasion arises. When no\nspecial reference is given, my authority is Thom.\n\n[22] While I write _Eason's Almanac for 1879_ has been published. This\nauthority gives the total average of paupers daily in receipt of relief\nthrough 1877 as 78,223, or 146.5 in 10,000 of the population. An\nincrease of less than six in ten thousand is not very alarming, and the\nfact seems in some measure to justify the opinion I have ventured to\nexpress in the text, that Ireland will be found to suffer less from the\npresent crisis than other parts of the United Kingdom. It must, however,\nbe taken into consideration that the present year (1879) threatens a\nvery poor harvest: and this circumstance is absolutely certain to\nenhance whatever distress already exists.\n\n[23] See note on previous page.\n\n[24] The 24-1/4 millions in England and Wales are kept in order by a\npolice force of 29,689. In Scotland 3-1/2 millions of population have\nonly 3356 policemen. In Ireland, with a population well under 5-1/2\nmillions, there are 12,081 policemen. And yet, as will appear presently,\nthere is far less crime in Ireland relatively than in either of the\nother kingdoms.\n\n[25] It is only just to admit that the death sentences are not a fair\ntest. Too many murders remain undetected, owing to the existence of\nagrarian conspiracy. The number of murders known to have been committed\nis unluckily not to be found in the returns to which I have access. But\nthe very fact of their remaining undetected is a proof that they are not\ndirectly connected with intoxication, for it shows that they are for the\nmost part agrarian.\n\n[26] It has been calculated, apparently on trustworthy data, that an\nacre of land planted with larch or fir, at an expense of about \u00a320,\nwould be worth \u00a32000 at the end of forty years, besides the intermediate\nyield from clearings of young timber, game cover, and so forth. This is\na very high return for a small outlay; but it is completely beyond the\nmeans of any peasant proprietor.\n\n[27] _Eason's Almanac_, 1879. The actual number is 285,464. The total of\nagricultural holdings is 581,963.\n\n[28] I have unfortunately been unable to obtain any statistics of the\ncross-channel trade. I find it stated in _Thom's Directory_ that the\ntrade of Belfast alone was valued in the year 1866 at \u00a324,332,000--viz.,\n\u00a312,417,000 imports and \u00a311,915,000 exports. The year 1866 was a bad\nyear: so it may be assumed that these figures represent a low average. I\nfind no means of estimating the import and export trade of Cork and\nDublin.\n\nI may mention here that one cause of interruption in the composition of\nthis paper was an unsuccessful search for complete trade statistics.\n\n[29] A few of the Home Rule M.P.'s who are now stumping the country on\nthe Land grievance are themselves landlords. It has been suggested that\nthey should introduce fixity of tenure on their estates, in one or other\nof its various forms. Mr. Errington (who is _not_ one of the stump\norators of the party) has, I am told, notified his intention to give\nlong leases to his tenantry. In a case like this the _argumentum ad\nhominem_, though a perfectly fair one, is a perfectly useless one.\n\n[30] I have referred above (note, p. 463) to my failure to obtain trade\nstatistics. This circumstance has caused me to fail also in fully\ncarrying out the original plan of this paper. I had intended not only to\ngive a general view of the recent condition of the Irish people, but to\nenter somewhat fully into its causes, and discuss the probabilities of\nthe future. The great revival in prosperity, which I have imperfectly\nsketched, was closely connected with the cross-channel trade. At\npresent, affairs look sufficiently gloomy both here and in England; and\nthe forecast of the future depends mainly upon the prospect of revival\nin English trade.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DELUGE:\n\nITS TRADITIONS IN ANCIENT NATIONS.\n\n\nOf all traditions relating to the history of primitive humanity, by far\nthe most universal is that of the Deluge. Our present purpose is to pass\nunder review the principal versions of it extant among the leading races\nof men. The concordance of these with the Biblical narrative will bring\nout their primary unity, and we shall thus be able to recognize the fact\nof this tradition being one of those which date before the dispersion of\npeoples, go back to the very dawn of the civilized world, and can only\nrefer to a real and definite event.\n\nBut we have previously to get rid of certain legendary recollections\nerroneously associated with the Biblical Deluge, their essential\nfeatures forbidding sound criticism to assimilate them therewith. We\nallude to such as refer to local phenomena, and are of historic and\ncomparatively recent date. Doubtless the tradition of the great\nprimitive cataclysm may have been confused with these, and thus have led\nto an exaggeration of their importance; but the characteristic points of\nthe narrative admitted into the Book of Genesis are wanting, and even\nunder the legendary form it has assumed these events retain a decidedly\nspecial and restricted character. To group recollections of this nature\nwith those that really relate to the Deluge would be to invalidate,\nrather than confirm, the consequences we are entitled to draw from the\nlatter.\n\nTake, for instance, the great inundation placed by the historic books of\nChina in the reign of Yao. This has no real relation, or even\nresemblance, to the Biblical Deluge; it is a purely local event, the\ndate of which, spite of the uncertainty of Chinese chronology previous\nto the eighth century B.C., we may yet determine as long subsequent to\nthe fully historic periods of Egypt and Babylon.[31] Chinese authors\ndescribe Yu, minister and engineer of the day, as restoring the course\nof rivers, raising dykes, digging canals, and regulating the taxation of\nevery province throughout China. A learned Sinologist, Edouard Biot, has\nproved, in a treatise on the changes of the lower course of the\nHoang-ho, that it was to one of its frequent inundations the above\ncatastrophe was due, and that the early Chinese settlements on its banks\nhad had much to suffer from this cause. These works of Yu were but the\nbeginning of embankments necessary to contain its waters, carried on\nfurther in following ages. A celebrated inscription graven on the rocky\nface of one of the mountain peaks of Ho-nan passes for contemporaneous\nwith these works, and is consequently the most ancient specimen of\nChinese epigraphy extant. This inscription appears to present an\nintrinsically authentic character, sufficient to dispel the doubts\nsuggested by Mr. Legge, although there is this rather suspicious fact\nconnected with it, that we are only acquainted with it through ancient\ncopies, and that for many centuries past the minutest research has\nfailed to re-discover the original.\n\nNor is the character of a mere local event less conspicuous in the\nlegend of Botchica, such as we have it reported by the Muyscas, the\nancient inhabitants of the province of Cundinamarca, in South America,\nalthough here mythological fable is mingled much more largely with the\nfundamental historic element.\n\nHuythaca, the wife of a divine man, or rather a god, called Botchica,\nhaving practised abominable witchcraft in order to make the river Funzha\nleave its bed, the whole plain of Bogota is devastated by its waters;\nmen and beasts perish in the inundation, and only a few escape by flight\nto the loftiest mountains. The tradition adds that Botchica broke\nasunder the rocks inclosing the valley of Canoas and Tequendama, in\norder to facilitate the escape of the waters, next reassembled the\ndispersed remnant of the Muyscas, taught them Sun-worship, and went up\nto heaven, after having lived 500 years in Cundinamarca.\n\n\nI.\n\n_Chaldean and Biblical Narratives._--Of the traditions relating to the\ngreat cataclysm the most curious, no doubt, is that of the Chaldeans.\nIts influence has stamped itself in an unmistakable manner on the\ntradition of India; and, of all the accounts of the Deluge, it comes\nnearest to that in Genesis. To whoever compares the two it becomes\nevident that they must have been one and the same up to the time when\nTerah and his family left Ur of the Chaldees to go into Palestine.\n\nWe have two versions of the Chaldean story--unequally developed indeed,\nbut exhibiting a remarkable agreement. The one most anciently known, and\nalso the shorter, is that which Berosus took from the sacred books of\nBabylon and introduced into the history that he wrote for the use of\nthe Greeks.[32] After speaking of the last nine antediluvian kings, the\nChaldean priest continues thus:--\n\n    \"Obartes Elbaratutu being dead, his son Xisuthros (Khasisatra)\n    reigned eighteen sares (64,800 years). It was under him that the\n    Great Deluge took place, the history of which is told in the sacred\n    documents as follows:--Cronos (Ea) appeared to him in his sleep, and\n    announced that on the fifteenth of the month of Daisios (the\n    Assyrian month Sivan--a little before the summer solstice), all men\n    should perish by a flood. He therefore commanded him to take the\n    beginning, the middle, and the end of whatever was consigned to\n    writing,[33] and to bury it in the City of the Sun, at Sippara; then\n    to build a vessel, and to enter into it with his family and dearest\n    friends; to place in this vessel provisions to eat and drink, and to\n    cause animals, birds, and quadrupeds to enter it; lastly, to prepare\n    everything for navigation. And when Xisuthros inquired in what\n    direction he should steer his bark, he was answered, 'towards the\n    gods,' and enjoined to pray that good might come of it for men.\n\n    \"Xisuthros obeyed, and constructed a vessel five stadia long and\n    five broad; he collected all that had been prescribed to him, and\n    embarked his wife, his children, and his intimate friends.\n\n    \"The Deluge having come, and soon going down, Xisuthros loosed some\n    of the birds. These finding no food nor place to alight on returned\n    to the ship. A few days later Xisuthros again let them free, but\n    they returned again to the vessel, their feet full of mud. Finally,\n    loosed the third time the birds came no more back. Then Xisuthros\n    understood that the earth was bare. He made an opening in the roof\n    of the ship, and saw that it had grounded on the top of a mountain.\n    He then descended with his wife, his daughter, and his pilot,\n    worshipped the earth, raised an altar, and there sacrificed to the\n    gods; at the same moment he vanished with those who accompanied him.\n\n    \"Meanwhile those who had remained in the vessel not seeing Xisuthros\n    return, descended too and began to seek him, calling him by his\n    name. They saw Xisuthros no more; but a voice from heaven was heard\n    commanding them piety towards the gods; that he, indeed, was\n    receiving the reward of his piety in being carried away to dwell\n    thenceforth in the midst of the gods, and that his wife, his\n    daughter, and the pilot of the ship shared the same honour. The\n    voice further said that they were to return to Babylon, and\n    conformably to the decrees of fate, disinter the writings buried at\n    Sippara in order to transmit them to men. It added that the country\n    in which they found themselves was Armenia. These, then, having\n    heard the voice, sacrificed to the gods and returned on foot to\n    Babylon. Of the vessel of Xisuthros, which had finally landed in\n    Armenia, a portion is still to be found in the Gordyan Mountains in\n    Armenia, and pilgrims bring thence asphalte that they have scraped\n    from its fragments. It is used to keep off the influence of\n    witchcraft. As to the companions of Xisuthros, they came to Babylon,\n    disinterred the writings left at Sippara, founded numerous cities,\n    built temples, and restored Babylon.\"\n\nBy the side of this version, which, interesting though it be, is, after\nall, second hand, we are now able to place an original\nChaldeo-Babylonian edition, which the lamented George Smith was the\nfirst to decipher on the cuneiform tablets exhumed at Nineveh and now in\nthe British Museum. Here the narrative of the Deluge appears as an\nepisode in the eleventh tablet, or eleventh chaunt of the great epic of\nthe town of Uruk. The hero of this poem, a kind of Hercules, whose name\nhas not as yet been made out with certainty,[34] being attacked by\ndisease (a kind of leprosy), goes, with a view to its cure, to consult\nthe patriarch saved from the Deluge, Khasisatra, in the distant land to\nwhich the gods have transported him, there to enjoy eternal felicity. He\nasks Khasisatra to reveal the secret of the events which led to his\nobtaining the privilege of immortality, and thus the patriarch is\ninduced to relate the cataclysm.\n\nBy a comparison of the three copies of the poem that the library of the\npalace of Nineveh contained, it has been possible to restore the\nnarrative with hardly any breaks.[35] These three copies were, by order\nof the King of Assyria, Asshurbanabal, made in the eighth century B.C.,\nfrom a very ancient specimen in the sacerdotal library of the town of\nUruk, founded by the monarchs of the first Chaldean empire. It is\ndifficult precisely to fix the date of the original, copied by Assyrian\nscribes, but it certainly goes back to the ancient empire, seventeen\ncenturies, at least, before our era, and even probably beyond; it was\ntherefore much anterior to Moses, and nearly contemporaneous with\nAbraham. The variations presented by the three existing copies prove\nthat the original was in the primitive mode of writing called the\n_hieratic_, a character which must have already become difficult to\ndecipher in the eighth century B.C., as the copyists have differed as to\nthe interpretation to be given to certain signs, and in other cases have\nsimply reproduced exactly the forms of such as they did not understand.\nFinally, it results from a comparison of these variations, that the\noriginal, transcribed by order of Asshurbanabal, must itself have been a\ncopy of some still more ancient manuscript, in which the original text\nhad already received interlinear comments. Some of the copyists have\nintroduced these into their text, others have omitted them. With these\npreliminary observations I proceed to give integrally the narrative\nascribed in the poem to Khasisatra:--\n\n    \"I will reveal to thee, O Izdhubar, the history of my\n    preservation--and tell to thee the decision of the gods.\n\n    \"The town of Shurippak, a town which thou knowest, is situated on\n    the Euphrates--it was ancient and in it [men did not honour] the\n    gods. [I alone, I was] their servant, to the great gods--[The gods\n    took counsel on the appeal of] Anu--[a deluge was proposed by]\n    Bel--[and approved by Nabon, Nergal and] Adar.\n\n    \"And the god [Ea] the immutable lord,--repeated this command in a\n    dream.--I listened to the decree of fate that he announced, and he\n    said to me:--'Man of Shiruppak, son of Ubaratutu--thou, build a\n    vessel and finish it [quickly].--[By a deluge] I will destroy\n    substance and life.--Cause thou to go up into the vessel the\n    substance of all that has life.--The vessel thou shall build--600\n    cubits shall be the measure of its length--and 60 cubits the amount\n    of its breadth and of its height.--[Launch it] thus on the ocean and\n    cover it with a roof.'--I understood, and I said to Ea, my\n    lord:--'[The vessel] that thou commandest me to build thus--[when] I\n    shall do it,--young and old [shall laugh at me.]'--[Ea opened his\n    mouth and] spoke.--He said to me, his servant:--'[If they laugh at\n    thee] thou shalt say to them: [shall be punished] he who has\n    insulted me, [for the protection of the gods] is over me.-- ... like\n    to caverns ... ---- ... I will exercise my judgment on that which is\n    on high and that which is below ... ---- ... Close the vessel ...\n    ---- ... At a given moment that I shall cause thee to know,--enter\n    into it and draw the door of the ship towards thee.--Within it, thy\n    grains, thy furniture, thy provisions,--thy riches, thy\n    men-servants, and thy maid-servants, and thy young people--the\n    cattle of the field and the wild beasts of the plain that I will\n    assemble--and that I will send thee, shall be kept behind thy\n    door.'--Khasisatra opened his mouth and spoke;--he said to Ea, his\n    lord:--'No one has made [such a] ship.--On the prow I will\n    fix....--I shall see ... and the vessel ...--the vessel thou\n    commandest me to build [thus]--which in....[36]\n\n    \"On the fifth day [the two sides of the bark] were raised.--In its\n    covering fourteen in all were its rafters--fourteen in all did it\n    count above.--I placed its roof and I covered it.--I embarked in it\n    on the sixth day; I divided its floors on the seventh;--I divided\n    the interior compartments on the eighth. I stopped up the chinks\n    through which the water entered in;--I visited the chinks and added\n    what was wanting.--I poured on the exterior three times 3,600\n    measures of asphalte,--and three times 3,600 measures of asphalte\n    within.--Three times 3,600 men, porters, brought on their heads the\n    chests of provisions.--I kept 3,600 chests for the nourishment of my\n    family,--and the mariners divided among themselves twice 3,600\n    chests.--For [provisioning] I had oxen slain;--I instituted\n    [rations] for each day.--In [anticipation of the need of] drinks, of\n    barrels and of wine--[I collected in quantity] like to the waters of\n    a river, [of provisions] in quantity like to the dust of the\n    earth.--[To arrange them in] the chests I set my hand to.-- ... of\n    the sun ... the vessel was completed.-- ... strong and--I had\n    carried above and below the furniture of the ship.--[This lading\n    filled the two-thirds.]\n\n    \"All that I possessed I gathered together; all I possessed of silver\n    I gathered together; all that I possessed of gold I gathered--all\n    that I possessed of the substance of life of every kind I gathered\n    together.--I made all ascend into the vessel; my servants male and\n    female,--the cattle of the fields, the wild beasts of the plains,\n    and the sons of the people, I made them all ascend.\"\n\n    \"Shamash (the sun) made the moment determined and----he announced it\n    in these terms: 'In the evening I will cause it to rain abundantly\n    from heaven; enter into the vessel and close the door.'----The fixed\n    moment had arrived, which he announced in these terms: 'In the\n    evening I will cause it to rain abundantly from heaven.'----When the\n    evening of that day arrived, I was afraid,----I entered into the\n    vessel and shut my door.----In shutting the vessel, to\n    Buzur-shadi-rabi, the pilot----I confided this dwelling, with all\n    that it contained.\n\n    \"Mu-sheri-ina-namari[37]--rose from the foundations of heaven in a\n    black cloud;--Ramman[38] thundered in the midst of the cloud--and\n    Nabon and Sharru marched before;--they marched, devastating the\n    mountain and the plain;--Nergal[39] the powerful, dragged\n    chastisements after him;--Adar[40] advanced, overthrowing before\n    him;--the Archangels of the abyss brought destruction--in their\n    terrors they agitated the earth.--The inundation of Ramman swelled\n    up to the sky--and [the earth] became without lustre, was changed\n    into a desert.\n\n    \"They broke ... of the surface of the earth like ...;--[they\n    destroyed] the living beings of the surface of the earth.--The\n    terrible [Deluge] on men swelled up to [heaven].--The brother no\n    longer saw his brother; men no longer knew each other. In\n    heaven--the gods became afraid of the water-spout, and--sought a\n    refuge; they mounted up to the heaven of Anu.[41]--The gods were\n    stretched out motionless, pressing one against another like\n    dogs.--Ishtar wailed like a child,--the great goddess pronounced her\n    discourse:--'Here is humanity returned into mud, and--this is the\n    misfortune that I have announced in the presence of the gods.--So I\n    announced the misfortune in the presence of the gods,--for the evil\n    I announced the terrible [chastisement] of men who are mine.--I am\n    the mother who gave birth to men, and--like to the race of fishes,\n    there they are filling the sea;--and the gods by reason of\n    that--which the archangels of the abyss are doing, weep with\n    me.'--The gods on their seats were seated in tears--and they held\n    their lips closed, [revolving] future things.\n\n    \"Six days and as many nights passed; the wind, the water-spout, and\n    the diluvian rain were in all their strength. At the approach of the\n    seventh day the diluvian rain grew weaker, the terrible\n    water-spout--which had assailed after the fashion of an\n    earthquake--grew calm, the sea inclined to dry up, and the wind and\n    the water-spout came to an end. I looked at the sea, attentively\n    observing--and the whole of humanity had returned to mud; like unto\n    seaweeds the corpses floated. I opened the window, and the light\n    smote on my face. I was seized with sadness; I sat down and I\n    wept;--and my tears came over my face.\n\n    \"I looked at the regions bounding the sea; towards the twelve points\n    of the horizon; not any continent.--The vessel was borne above the\n    land of Nizir--the mountain of Nizir arrested the vessel, and did\n    not permit it to pass over.--A day and a second day the mountain of\n    Nizir arrested the vessel, and did not permit it to pass over;--the\n    third and fourth day the mountain of Nizir arrested the vessel, and\n    did not permit it to pass over;--the fifth and sixth day the\n    mountain of Nizir arrested the vessel, and did not permit it to pass\n    over.--At the approach of the seventh day, I sent out and loosed a\n    dove. The dove went, turned, and--found no place to light on, and it\n    came back. I sent out and loosed a swallow; the swallow went,\n    turned, and--found no place to light on, and it came back. I sent\n    out and loosed a raven; the raven went and saw the corpses on the\n    waters; it ate, rested, turned and came not back.\n\n    \"I then sent out (what was in the vessel) towards the four winds,\n    and I offered a sacrifice. I raised the pile of my burnt offering on\n    the peak of the mountain; seven by seven I disposed the measured\n    vases,[42]--and beneath I spread rushes, cedar, and juniper wood.\n    The gods were seized with the desire of it--the gods were seized\n    with a benevolent desire of it;--and the gods assembled like flies\n    above the master of the sacrifice. From afar, in approaching, the\n    great goddess raised the great zones that Anu has made for their\n    glory (the gods).[43] These gods, luminous crystal before me, I will\n    never leave them; in that day I prayed that I might never leave\n    them. 'Let the gods come to my sacrificial pile!--but never may Bel\n    come to my sacrificial pile! for he did not master himself, and he\n    has made the water-spout for the Deluge, and he has numbered my men\n    for the pit.'\n\n    \"From far, in drawing near, Bel--saw the vessel, and Bel\n    stopped;--he was filled with anger against the gods and the\n    celestial archangels:--\n\n    \"'No one shall come out alive! No man shall be preserved from the\n    abyss!'--Adar opened his mouth and said; he said to the warrior\n    Bel:--'What other than Ea should have formed this resolution?--for\n    Ea possesses knowledge and [he foresees] all.'--Ea opened his mouth\n    and spake; he said to the warrior Bel:--'O thou, herald of the gods,\n    warrior,--as thou didst not master thyself, thou hast made the\n    water-spout of the deluge.--Let the sinner carry the weight of his\n    sins, the blasphemer the weight of his blasphemy.--Please thyself\n    with this good pleasure and it shall never be infringed; faith in it\n    never [shall be violated.]--Instead of thy making a new deluge, let\n    lions appear and reduce the number of men; instead of thy making a\n    new deluge, let hyenas appear and reduce the number of men;--instead\n    of thy making a new deluge, let there be famine and let the earth be\n    [devastated];--instead of thy making a new deluge, let Dibbara[44]\n    appear, and let men be [mown down]. I have not revealed the decision\n    of the great gods;--it is Khasisatra who interpreted a dream and\n    comprehended what the gods had decided.'\n\n    \"Then, when his resolve was arrested, Bel entered into the\n    vessel.--He took my hand and made me rise.--He made my wife rise and\n    made her place herself at my side.--He turned around us and stopped\n    short; he approached our group.--'Until now Khasisatra has made part\n    of perishable humanity;--but lo, now, Khasisatra and his wife are\n    going to be carried away to live like the gods,--and Khasisatra will\n    reside afar at the mouth of the rivers.'--They carried me away and\n    established me in a remote place at the mouth of the streams.\"\n\nThis narrative follows with great exactness the same course as that, or\nrather as those of Genesis, and the analogies are on both sides\nstriking. It is well known, and has long been critically demonstrated,\nthat chapters vi., vii., viii. and ix. of Genesis contain two different\nnarratives of the Deluge, the one taken from the Elohist document, the\nother from the Jehovist, both being skilfully combined by the final\neditor. Reverencing their text, which he evidently considered sacred, he\nomitted no fact given by either, so that we have the whole story twice\nnarrated in different terms; and, in spite of the way the verses are\nmixed up, it is easy so to disentangle the two versions as that each\nshould form a continuous and unbroken narrative. Some critics have\nrecently pretended that, with regard to the stories of the Creation and\nDeluge, both cuneiform documents disproved the distinction between the\ntwo sources of Genesis, and proved the primitive unity of its\ncomposition; that the same repetitions, in effect, were to be found\nthere. This was a premature conclusion, drawn from translations very\nimperfect as yet, and requiring thorough revision; and, indeed,\nconfining ourselves to the story of the Deluge, such revision, carried\non according to strict philological principles, does away with the\narguments that had been based on the version of George Smith. None of\nthe repetitions of the final text of Genesis are observable in the\nChaldean poem; which, on the contrary, decisively confirms the\ndistinction made between the two narratives, the Elohist and Jehovist,\ninterwoven by the last compiler of the Pentateuch. It is with each of\nthese separately--when disentangled and compared--that the Chaldean\nnarrative coincides in its order--it is not with the result of their\ncombination. And nothing could be easier than to demonstrate this by a\nsynoptic table, in which the three narratives were collated.\n\nSuch a table would at once show their agreement and their difference,\nwhat the three records have in common, and what each has added of its\nown to the primitive outline. They are certainly three versions of the\nsame traditional history, and with the Chaldeo-Babylonians on the one\nhand, and the Hebrews on the other, we have two parallel streams\nproceeding from one source. Nevertheless, we must note on both sides\ndivergences of certain importance which prove the bifurcation of the two\ntraditions to have taken place at a very remote era, and the one of\nwhich the Bible affords us the expression to be not merely an edition of\nthat preserved by the Chaldean priesthood, expurgated from a severely\nmonotheistic point of view.\n\nThe Biblical narrative bears the impress of an inland people, ignorant\nof navigation. In Genesis, the name of the ark, _tebah_, signifies\n\"coffer,\" and not \"vessel.\" Nothing is said about the launching of the\nark; there is no mention made of the sea, or of navigation; there is no\npilot. In the Epic of Uruk, on the contrary, everything shows it to have\nbeen composed amidst a maritime population; every circumstance bears a\nreflex of the manners and customs of people living on the shore of the\nPersian Gulf. Khasisatra enters a vessel, properly so called; it is\nlaunched, undergoes a trial trip, all its seams are caulked with\nbitumen, it is entrusted to a pilot.\n\nThe Chaldeo-Babylonian narrative represents Khasisatra as a king, who\ngoes up into the ship surrounded by a whole population of servants and\ncompanions; in the Bible, we have only Noah and his family who are\nsaved; the new human race has no other source than the patriarch's three\nsons. Nor is there any trace in the Chaldean poem of the distinction (in\nthe Bible peculiar indeed only to the Jehovist) between clean and\nunclean beasts, and of each kind of the former being numbered by sevens,\nalthough in Babylonia the number seven had a specially sacramental\ncharacter.\n\nAs to the dimensions of the ark, we find a disagreement not only between\nthe Bible and the tablet copied by order of Asshurbanabal, but between\nthe latter and Berosus. Both Genesis and the cuneiform documents measure\nthe ark's dimensions by cubits, Berosus by stadia. Genesis states its\nlength and breadth to have been in the proportion of 6 to 1, Berosus of\n5 to 2, the tablet in the British Museum of 10 to 1. On the other hand,\nthe fragments of Berosus do not treat of the relative dimensions of\nheight and breadth, and the tablet gives them as equal, while the Bible\nspeaks of thirty cubits of height and fifty of breadth. But these\ndifferences as to figures have but a secondary importance; nothing so\nliable to alterations and variations in different editions of the same\nnarrative. We may observe, however, that in Genesis it is only the\nElohist--always much addicted to figures--who gives the dimensions of\nthe ark. And, on the other hand, it is the Jehovist alone who tells of\nthe sending forth of the birds, which occupies a considerable place in\nthe Chaldean tradition. As to the variations here between the Biblical\nstory and that in the poem of Uruk, the latter adding the swallow to\nthe dove and the raven, and not attributing to the dove the part of a\nmessenger of good tidings, I do not think they go for much. The\nagreement as to the main point is, in my eyes, of far more importance.\n\nBut what is, on the contrary, of very decided importance, is the\nabsolute disagreement as to the duration of the Deluge between the\nElohist and Jehovist, as well as between the two and the\nChaldeo-Babylonian narrator. Here we have a manifest trace of different\nsystems applying to the ancient tradition calendrical conceptions,\ndissimilar in each record, and yet all seeming to have proceeded from\nChaldea.\n\nBy the Elohist the periods of the Deluge are indicated by the ordinal\nnumbers of the months, but these ordinal numbers relate to a lunar year,\nbeginning on the 1st of Tishri (September-October), at the autumnal\nequinox. This is admitted by Josephus, and by the Author of the Targum\nof the pseudo-Jonathan, as well as by Rashi and Kimchi, among the Jewish\ncommentators of the Middle Ages; and proved, as I conceive, by Michaelis\namong the moderns. The rain begins to fall, and Noah enters into the ark\nthe 17th day of the second month--_i.e._, Marcheshvan. The great force\nof the waters lasts 150 days, and the 17th of the seventh month--_i.e._,\nNisan (March-April)--the ark grounds on Mount Ararat. The 1st day of the\ntenth month, or Tammuz (June-July), about the summer solstice, the\nmountains are laid bare. The 1st day of the first month of the following\nyear--that is, of Tishri, at the autumnal equinox--the waters have\ncompletely retired, and Noah leaves the ark on the 27th of the second\nmonth. Thus the Deluge lasted a whole lunar year, plus eleven days--that\nis to say, as Ewald well remarks, a solar year of 365 days. Now, under\nthe climatic conditions of Babylonia and Assyria, the rains of late\nautumn begin towards the end of November, and at once the level of the\nEuphrates and Tigris rises. The periodic overflow of the two rivers\noccurs in the middle of March, and culminates at the end of May, from\nwhich time the waters go down. At the end of June they have left the\nplains, and from August to November are at their lowest level. Now the\ndates of the Deluge, given by the Elohist, and re-stated as we have been\ndoing according to Michaelis and Knobel, accord perfectly with these\nphases of the rising and falling of the two Mesopotamian rivers. They\naccord even better in the primitive system which served for\nstarting-point to that of the Elohist, and which has been so ingeniously\nrestored by M. Schraeder,[45] a system attributing to the Deluge 300 days\nin all, or a ten months' duration: 150 days for its greatest height and\n150 for its decrease. According to this system, the leaving of the ark\nmust have taken place on the first day of the 601st year of Noah's\nlife--that is to say, on the 1st of Tishri, at the autumnal equinox.\nThus the deliverance of the father of the new humanity, as well as the\nCovenant made by God with him and his race, were fixed on the very day\nto which an ancient opinion which has maintained itself among the Jews\nassigned the creation of the world. As to the beginning of the Deluge,\nit occurred, according to the same system, on the 1st day of the third\nmonth--that is to say, at the commencement of the lunation whose end\ncoincided with the Sun's entry into Capricorn, when the conjunction of\nplanets brought about periodic deluges according to an astrological\nconception of Chaldean origin, which does not indeed appear a very\nancient one; but must have been based on data adopted by some of the\nsacerdotal schools of Babylonia as to the epoch of the cataclysm.\n\nIt is also with the winter rains, and not with the swelling of the\nEuphrates and Tigris in spring, that the calendrical construction,\naccording to which the antediluvian kings or patriarchs have been placed\nin relation with solar mansions (a construction followed in Uruk's Epic\npoem), causes the commencement of the Deluge to coincide. It connects,\nin point of fact, the tradition of the cataclysm with the month of\nShabut (January-February), and with the sign of Aquarius. Accordingly, I\nfind great difficulty in admitting the exactness of the date, 15th of\nDaisios, given in the extract of Alexander Polybister, as that assigned\nby Berosus to the Deluge, for this would make the event occur in the\nmiddle of the Assyrian month Sivan, at the beginning of July, in a\nseason of complete drought, when the rivers have reached their lowest\nlevel. I hold this to be an evident error, due not to the author of the\nChaldean History himself, but to his transcriber. Berosus must have\nwritten =menos ogdou; pempte kai dekate= the 15th of the eighth month,\ntranslating into Greek the Assyrian name of the Arakh-Shanina. And by a\nreadily explicable error Cornelius Alexander must have turned it into\nDaisios, which was the eighth month of the Syro-Macedonian Calendar,\nforgetting the difference between the initial point of its year and that\nof the Chaldeo-Assyrian. In reality, then, the date given by Berosus\nonly differed by two days from that adopted by the Elohist compiler of\nGenesis. Besides, as Knobel rightly insists, in placing the commencement\nof the Deluge at the 15th or 17th of a month, we place it always at the\nfull moon, for it is also with this phase of the light that lights the\nnight that popular belief in Egypt and Mesopotamia links the periodic\nrise of Nile or Tigris.\n\nThe system of the Jehovist is quite a different one. According to him,\nJahveh announces the Deluge to Noah only seven days beforehand. The\nwaters are at their height for forty days, and decrease during forty\nmore. After these eighty days Noah sends out the three birds at\nintervals of seven days, and thus it is on the 21st day after he has\nopened the window of the ark for the first time that he, too, goes out\nof the ark and offers his sacrifice to the Lord. Here the phases of the\ncataclysm are evidently calculated on those of the annual spring outflow\nof the Euphrates and Tigris, so that we need not hesitate to assign the\norigin of the very form of the tradition received by the Jehovist\nwriter, to the cradle of the race of the Terahites in Chaldea. The\noverflow of the two rivers of Mesopotamia lasts, in fact, for an average\nof seventy-five days from the middle of March to the end of May; and\ntwenty-six days later--that is, at the end of the 101 in all (80 + 21 =\n75 + 26 = 101), when the Jehovist makes Noah leave the ark--the lands\nwhich have been inundated become once more practicable.\n\nWhat, moreover, in the Jehovist narrative bears a very marked impress of\nChaldean origin is the part played in it by septennial periods; seven\ndays intervening between the announcement and the beginning of the\nDeluge, seven between each sending forth of the birds. That religious\nand mystic importance attached to the heptade which gave rise to the\nconception of the seven days of creation, and to the invention of the\nweek, is an essentially Chaldean idea. It is among the\nChaldeo-Babylonians that we discover its origin and find its most\nnumerous applications. The story of Khasisatra, in the poem of Uruk,\ninvariably proceeds hebdomadally. The violence of the Deluge lasts seven\ndays, and so does the stay of the vessel on Mount Nizir when the waters\nbegin to go down. It is true, indeed, that the building of the vessel\noccupies eight instead of seven days; but we must add the time necessary\nfor the embarkation of provisions, animals, passengers, and this will\nenable us to calculate the whole duration of Khasisatra's preparations\nbetween the vision sent him by Ea and the moment when he closes the\nvessel at the approach of the rain, as consisting of fourteen days or\ntwo hebdomades. This being granted, if the poem does not state precisely\nthe intervals at which the three birds were sent forth, we are justified\nin applying here the figures used by the Jehovist in Genesis, and\ncounting seven days between the first and second sending forth, seven\nbetween the second and third, and seven, lastly, between the departure\nof the bird which does not return, and the leaving the vessel. The whole\ninterval, then, between the warning of Ea and the sacrifice of\nKhasisatra, amounts to seven hebdomades--plainly a number intentionally\nassigned. And the whole duration of the Deluge is doubled by the sacred\nwriter, who was the author of the Jehovist document, 7 \u00d7 2 \u00d7 7, instead\nof 7 \u00d7 7; that is, fourteen weeks with just three days over, owing to\nthe writer having employed the round numbers 40 + 40 = 80 days, instead\nof the precise number seventy-seven days or eleven hebdomades (7 + 4 \u00d7\n7), to indicate the interval between the beginning of the diluvian rain\nand the sending forth of the first bird. And now, if we keep count of\nthe time between the announcing of the cataclysm by Jahveh and its\ncommencement, the figures of the Jehovist are in all 7 \u00d7 2 \u00d7 7 + 7 days,\nand those of the system of the Chaldean poem 7 \u00d7 7. But they are on both\nsides combinations of seven.\n\nWhere the Chaldeo-Babylonian narrative and that of the Bible absolutely\ndiverge, is in their statement of what, after the Deluge, befell the\nrighteous man saved from it. According to the figures of the Elohist,\nNoah lives on among his descendants for 350 years, and dies at the age\nof 950. Khasisatra receives the privilege of immortality; is carried\naway \"to live like the gods,\" and transported into \"a distant place,\"\nwhere the hero of Uruk goes to visit him in order to learn the secrets\nof life and death. But in the Bible we have something of the same kind\ntold us of Noah's great-grandfather Enoch, who \"walked with God, and was\nnot, because God took him.\" We see, then, that the Babylonian tradition\nunited in the person of Khasisatra facts which the Bible distributes\nbetween Enoch and Noah, the two whom Holy Scripture equally\ncharacterizes as having \"walked with God.\"\n\nThe author of the treatise \"On the Syrian Goddess,\" erroneously\nattributed to Lucian, acquaints us with the diluvian tradition of the\nArameans, directly derived from that of Chaldea, as it was narrated in\nthe celebrated Sanctuary of Hierapolis or Bambyce.\n\n    \"The generality of people, he says, tell us that the founder of the\n    temple was Deucalion Sisythes, that Deucalion in whose time the\n    great inundation occurred. I have also heard the account given by\n    the Greeks themselves of Deucalion; the myth runs thus:--The actual\n    race of men is not the first, for there was a previous one, all the\n    members of which perished. We belong to a second race, descended\n    from Deucalion, and multiplied in the course of time. As to the\n    former men, they are said to have been full of insolence and pride,\n    committing many crimes, disregarding their oath, neglecting the\n    rights of hospitality, unsparing to suppliants, accordingly they\n    were punished by an immense disaster. All on a sudden enormous\n    volumes of water issued from the earth, and rains of extraordinary\n    abundance began to fall; the rivers left their beds, and the sea\n    overflowed its shores; the whole earth was covered with water, and\n    all men perished. Deucalion alone, because of his virtue and piety,\n    was preserved alive to give birth to a new race. This is how he was\n    saved:--He placed himself, his children, and his wives in a great\n    coffer that he had, in which pigs, horses, lions, serpents, and all\n    other terrestrial animals came to seek refuge with him. He received\n    them all, and while they were in the coffer Zeus inspired them with\n    reciprocal amity which prevented their devouring one another. In\n    this manner, shut up within one single coffer, they floated as long\n    as the waters remained in force. Such is the account given by the\n    Greeks of Deucalion.\n\n    \"But to this which they equally tell, the people of Hierapolis add a\n    marvellous narrative:--That in their country a great chasm opened,\n    into which all the waters of the deluge poured. Then Deucalion\n    raised an altar and dedicated a temple to Hera (Atargatis) close to\n    this very chasm. I have seen it; it is very narrow, and situated\n    under the temple. Whether it was once large and has now shrunk, I do\n    not know; but I have seen it, and it is quite small. In memory of\n    the event the following is the rite accomplished:--Twice a year sea\n    water is brought to the temple. This is not only done by the\n    priests, but numerous pilgrims come from the whole of Syria and\n    Arabia, and even from beyond the Euphrates, bringing water. It is\n    poured out in the temple and goes into the cleft which, narrow as it\n    is, swallows up a considerable quantity. This is said to be in\n    virtue of a religious law instituted by Deucalion to preserve the\n    memory of the catastrophe and of the benefits that he received from\n    the gods. Such is the ancient tradition of the temple.\"\n\nIt appears to me difficult not to recognize an echo of fables popular\nin all Semitic countries about this chasm of Hierapolis, and the part it\nplayed in the Deluge,--in the enigmatic expressions of the Koran\nrespecting the oven _tannur_ which began to bubble and disgorge water\nall around at the commencement of the Deluge. We know that this _tannur_\nhas been the occasion of most grotesque imaginings of Mussulman\ncommentators, who had lost the tradition of the story to which Mahomet\nmade allusion. And, moreover, the Koran formally states that the waters\nof the Deluge were absorbed in the bosom of the earth.\n\n\nII.\n\n_Indian Traditions._--India, in its turn, affords us an account of the\nDeluge, which by its poverty strikingly contrasts with that of the Bible\nand the Chaldeans. Its most simple and ancient form is found in the\n_Catapatha Brahmana_ of the Rig-Veda. It has been translated for the\nfirst time by M. Max Muller.\n\n    \"One morning water for washing was brought to Manu, and when he had\n    washed himself a fish remained in his hands. And it addressed these\n    words to him:--'Protect me and I will save thee.' 'From what wilt\n    thou save me?' 'A deluge will sweep all creatures away; it is from\n    that I will save thee.' 'How shall I protect thee?' The fish\n    replied: 'While we are small we run great dangers, for fish swallow\n    fish. Keep me at first in a vase; when I become too large for it dig\n    a basin to put me into. When I shall have grown still more, throw me\n    into the ocean; then I shall be preserved from destruction.' Soon it\n    grew a large fish. It said to Manu, 'The very year I shall have\n    reached my full growth the Deluge will happen. Then build a vessel\n    and worship me. When the waters rise, enter the vessel and I will\n    save thee.'\n\n    \"After keeping him thus, Manu carried the fish to the sea. In the\n    year indicated Manu built a vessel and worshipped the fish. And when\n    the Deluge came he entered the vessel. Then the fish came swimming\n    up to him, and Manu fastened the cable of the ship to the horn of\n    the fish, by which means the latter made it pass over the mountain\n    of the North. The fish said, 'I have saved thee; fasten the vessel\n    to a tree that the water may not sweep it away while thou art on the\n    mountain; and in proportion as the waters decrease thou shalt\n    descend.' Manu descended with the waters, and this is what is called\n    the _descent of Manu_ on the mountain of the North. The deluge had\n    carried away all creatures, and Manu remained alone.\"\n\nNext in order of date and complication, which always goes on loading the\nnarrative more and more with fantastic and parasitical details, comes\nthe version in the enormous epic of _Mahabharata_. That of the poem\ncalled _Bhagavata-Purana_ is still more recent and fabulous. Finally,\nthe same tradition forms the subject of an entire poem of very low date,\nthe _Matsya-Purana_, of which an analysis has been given by the great\nIndian scholar, Wilson.\n\nIn the preface to the third volume of his edition of _Bhagavata-Purana_,\nEugene Burnouf has carefully compared the three narratives known at the\ntime he wrote (that of the _Catapatha Brahmana_ has been since\ndiscovered), with a view to clearing up the origin of the Indian\ntradition of the Deluge. He points out in a discussion that deserves to\nremain a model of erudition and subtle criticism, that it is absolutely\nwanting in the Vedic hymns, where we only find distant allusions to it\nthat seem to belong to a different kind of legend altogether, and also\nthat this tradition was primitively foreign to the essentially Indian\nsystem of _Manvantaras_, or periodic destructions of the world. He\nthence concludes that it must have been imported into India subsequently\nto the adoption of this system, which is, however, very ancient, being\ncommon to Brahmanism and Buddhism, and therefore inclines to look upon\nit as a Semitic importation that took place in historic times, not,\nindeed, of Genesis, but more probably of the Babylonian tradition.\n\nThe discovery of an original edition of the latter confirms the theory\nof the French savant. The leading feature which distinguishes the Indian\nnarrative is the part assigned to a god who puts on the form of a fish,\nin order to warn Manu, to guide his vessel and save him from the flood.\nThe nature of the metamorphosis is the only fundamental and primitive\npoint, for different versions vary as to the personality of the god who\nassumes this form--the _Brahmana_ leaves it uncertain, the _Mahabharata_\nfixes on Brahma, and the compilers of the _Puranas_ on Vishnu. This is\nthe more remarkable that this metamorphosis into a fish _Matsyavatara_\nremains isolated in Indian mythology, is foreign to its habitual\nsymbolism, and gives rise to no ulterior developments: no trace being\nfound in India of that fish-worship which was so important and\nwidespread among other ancient people. Burnouf rightly saw in this a\nsign of importation from without, and especially of its Babylonian\norigin, for classic testimony, recently confirmed by native monuments,\nshows us that in the religion of Babylon the conception of\nichthyomorphic gods held a more prominent place than elsewhere. The part\nplayed by the divine fish with regard to Manu in the Indian legend, is\nattributed both by the Epic of Uruk and by Berosus to the god Ea, who is\nalso designated Schalman, \"the Saviour.\" Now this god, whose type of\nrepresentation we now know certainly from Assyrian and Babylonian\nmonuments, is essentially the ichthyomorphic god, and his image almost\ninvariably combines the forms of fish and man. In astronomical tables\nfrequent mention is made of the catasterism of the \"fish of Ea,\" which\nis indubitably our sign Pisces, since it presides over the month Adar.\nIt is to a connection of ideas based on the diluvian record, that we\nmust attribute the placing of Pisces--primarily of the \"fish of\nEa\"--next to Aquarius, whose relation to the history of the Deluge we\nhave already pointed out. Here we have an evident allusion to the part\nof Saviour attributed by the people who invented the Zodiac, to the god\nEa in the flood, and to the idea of an ichthyomorphic nature especially\nbelonging to this aspect of his personality. Ea is, moreover, the\nOannes, lawgiver of the fragments of Berosus, half-man, half-fish, whose\nform, answering to the description given by the Chaldean history, has\nbeen discovered in the sculptures of Assyrian palaces and on cylinders,\nthe Euahanes of Hygin, and the Oes of Helladios.[46]\n\nWhenever we find among two different peoples one same legend, with as\n_special_ a circumstance which does not spring _naturally_ and\n_necessarily_ from the fundamental facts of the narrative, and when,\nmoreover, this circumstance is closely connected with the whole\nreligious conceptions of one of these peoples, and remains isolated and\nalien from the customary symbolism of the other, criticism lays it down\nas an absolute rule that we must conclude the legend to have been\ntransmitted from the one to the other in an already fixed form, to be a\nforeign importation, superimposed, not fused with the national, and as\nit were genial, traditions of the people, who have received, without\nhaving created it.\n\nWe must also remark that in the _Puranas_ it is no longer Manu Vaivasata\nthat the divine fish saves from the Deluge, but a different personage,\nthe King of the Dasas--_i.e._, fishers, Satyravata, \"the man who loves\njustice and truth,\" strikingly corresponding to the Chaldean Khasisatra.\nNor is the Puranic version of the Legend of the Deluge to be despised,\nthough it be of recent date and full of fantastic and often puerile\ndetails. In certain aspects it is less Aryanized than that of _Brahmana_\nor than the _Mahabharata_, and above all it gives some circumstances\nomitted in these earlier versions, which must yet have belonged to the\noriginal foundation, since they appear in the Babylonian legend; a\ncircumstance preserved no doubt by the oral tradition--popular and not\nBrahmanic--with which the _Puranas_ are so deeply imbued. This has been\nalready observed by Pictet, who lays due stress on the following passage\nof the _Bhagavata-Purana_: \"In _seven days_,\" said Vishnu to Satyravata,\n\"the three worlds shall be submerged.\" There is nothing like this in the\n_Brahmana_ nor the _Mahabharata_, but in Genesis the Lord says to Noah,\n\"_Yet seven days_ and I will cause it to rain upon the earth;\" and a\nlittle further we read, \"_After seven days_ the waters of the flood were\nupon the earth.\" And we have just pointed out the parts played by\nhebdomades as successive periods in that system of the duration of the\nflood, adopted by the author of the Jehovist documents inserted in\nGenesis, as well as by the compiler of the Chaldean Epic of Uruk. Nor\nmust we pay less attention to what the _Bhagavata-Purana_ says of the\ndirections given by the fish-god to Satyravata for the placing of the\nsacred Scriptures in a safe place in order to preserve them from\nHayagriva, a marine horse dwelling in the abyss, and of the conflict of\nthe god with this Hayagriva, who had stolen the Vedas and thus produced\nthe cataclysm by disturbing the order of the world. This circumstance\ntoo is wanting in the more ancient compositions, even in the\n_Mahabharata_, but it is a most important one, and cannot be looked on\nas a spontaneous product of Indian soil, for we recognize in it under\nan Indian garb the very tradition of the interment of the sacred\nwritings at Sippara by Khasisatra, such as we have it in the fragments\nof Berosus.\n\nIt is the Chaldean form, then, of the tradition that the Indians have\nadopted owing to communications which the commercial relations between\nthe countries render historically natural, and they afterwards amplified\nit with the exuberance peculiar to their imagination. But they must have\nadopted it all the more readily because it agreed with a tradition,\nwhich under a somewhat different form had been brought by their\nancestors from the primitive cradle of the Aryan race. That the\nrecollection of the flood did indeed form part of the original\ngroundwork of the legends as to the origin of the world held by this\ngreat race, is beyond all doubt. For if Indians have accepted the\nChaldean form of the story, so nearly allied to that of Genesis, all\nother nations of Aryan descent show themselves possessed of entirely\noriginal versions of the cataclysm which cannot be held to have been\nborrowed either from Babylonian or Hebrew sources.\n\n\nIII.\n\n_Traditions of other Aryan Peoples._--Among the Iranians, in the sacred\nbooks containing the fundamental Zoroastrian doctrines, and dating very\nfar back, we meet with a tradition which must assuredly be looked upon\nas a variety of that of the Deluge, though possessing a special\ncharacter, and diverging in some essential particulars from those we\nhave been examining. It relates how Yima, who in the original and\nprimitive conception was the father of the human race, was warned by\nAhuramazda, the good deity, of the earth being about to be devastated by\na flood. The god ordered Yima to construct a refuge, a square garden,\n_vara_, protected by an enclosure, and to cause the germs of men,\nbeasts, and plants to enter it, in order to escape annihilation.\nAccordingly, when the inundation occurred, the garden of Yima with all\nthat it contained was alone spared, and the message of safety was\nbrought thither by the bird Karshipta, the envoy of Ahuramazda.[47]\n\nA comparison has also been made, but erroneously as I think, between the\nBiblical and Chaldean Deluge and a story only found complete in the\n_Bundahesh-pahlavi_;[48] though, as a few of the older books contain\nallusions to some of its circumstances;[49] it must date further back\nthan this edition of it, which is recent. Ahuramazda determines to\ndestroy the Khafctras--_i.e._, the maleficent spirits created by\nAngromainyus, the spirit of evil: Tistrya, the genius of the star\nSirius, descends at his command to earth, and, assuming the form of a\nman, causes it to rain for ten days. The waters cover the earth, and all\nmaleficent beings are drowned. A violent wind dries the earth, but some\ngerms of the evil spirit's creation remain, and may reappear, therefore\nTistrya descends again under the form of a white horse, and produces a\nsecond Deluge by another rainfall of ten days. To prevent him\naccomplishing his task, the demon Apusha assumes the appearance of a\nblack horse, and engages in combat; but he is struck with lightning by\nAhuramazda, as well as the demon Cpendjaghra, who had come to his aid.\nFinally, to bring about the complete destruction of evil, Tistrya\ndescends the third time under the form of a bull, and produces a third\nDeluge by a third rainfall of ten days, after which the waters divide to\nform the four great and the twenty-four small seas. Now all this relates\nto a cosmogonic fact, anterior to the creation of man. The Khafctras,\nfrom which Tistrya undertakes to purge the earth, are the hurtful and\nvenomous beasts created by Angromainyus which fervent Mazedans make it a\nduty to destroy in our actual world--such as scorpions, lizards, toads,\nserpents, rats, &c. There is no allusion here to humanity, or the\npunishment of its sins. If we were bent on finding in our Bible any\nparallel to this first rain falling on the surface of the earth--which\nboth destroys the hurtful creatures by which it was infested and renders\nit productive of a fertile vegetation--we should turn, not to the\naccount of the Deluge, but to what is said in Gen. ii. 5, 6.\n\nThe Greeks had two principal legends as to the cataclysm by which\nprimitive humanity was destroyed. The first was connected with the name\nof Ogyges, the most ancient of the kings of Boeotia or Attica; a quite\nmythical personage, lost in the night of ages, his very name seemingly\nderived from one signifying deluge in Aryan idioms, in Sanscrit _Angha_.\nIt is said that in his time the whole land was covered by a flood, whose\nwaters reached the sky, and from which he, together with some\ncompanions, escaped in a vessel.\n\nThe second tradition is the Thessalian legend of Deucalion. Zeus having\nworked to destroy the men of the age of bronze, with whose crimes he was\nwroth, Deucalion, by the advice of Prometheus, his father, constructed a\ncoffer, in which he took refuge with his wife, Pyrrha. The Deluge came,\nthe chest or coffer floated at the mercy of the waves for nine days and\nnine nights, and was finally stranded on Mount Parnassus. Deucalion and\nPyrrha leave it, offer sacrifice, and according to the command of Zeus\nre-people the world by throwing behind them \"the bones of the\nearth\"--namely, stones, which change into men. This Deluge of Deucalion\nis in Grecian tradition what most resembles a universal Deluge. Many\nauthors affirm that it extended to the whole earth, and that the whole\nhuman race perished. At Athens, in memory of the event, and to appease\nthe manes of its victims, a ceremony called _Hydrophoria_ was observed,\nhaving so close a resemblance to that in use at Hierapolis in Syria,\nthat we can hardly fail to look upon it as a Syro-Phoenician\nimportation, and the result of an assimilation established in remote\nantiquity between the Deluge of Deucalion and that of Khasisatra, as\ndescribed by the author of the treatise \"On the Syrian Goddess.\"[50]\nClose to the temple of the Olympian Zeus a fissure in the soil was\nshown, in length but one cubit, through which it was said the waters of\nthe Deluge had been swallowed up. Thus, every year, on the third day of\nthe festival of the Anthesteria, a day of mourning consecrated to the\ndead,--that is, on the thirteenth of the month of Anthesterion, towards\nthe beginning of March--it was customary, as at Bambyce, to pour water\ninto the fissure, together with flour mixed with honey, poured also into\nthe trench dug to the west of the tomb, in the funereal sacrifices of\nthe Athenians.\n\nOthers, on the contrary, limit Deucalion's flood to Greece, even declare\nthat it only destroyed the larger portion of the community, a great many\nmen saving themselves on the highest mountains. Thus the Delphian legend\ntold how the inhabitants of that town, following the wolves in their\nflight, had taken refuge in a cave on the summit of Parnassus, where\nthey built the town of Lycorea, whose foundation is, on the other hand,\nattributed by the Chronicle of Paros to Deucalion, after the\nreproduction by him of a new human race. Later mythographers necessarily\nadopted this idea of several points of simultaneous escape from a desire\nto reconcile the local legends of several places in Greece, which named\nsome other than Deucalion as the hero saved from the flood. For\ninstance, at Megara it was the eponym of the city Megaros, son of Zeus\nand of one of the nymphs Sithnides, who, warned by the cry of cranes of\nthe imminence of the danger, took refuge on Mount Geranien. Again, there\nwas the Thessalian Cerambos, who was said to have escaped the flood by\nrising into the air on wings given him by the nymphs, and it was\nPerirrhoos, son of Eolus, that Zeus Naios had preserved at Dodona. For\nthe inhabitants of the Isle of Cos the hero of the Deluge was Merops,\nson of Hyas, who there assembled under his rule the remnant of humanity\npreserved with him. The traditions of Rhodes only supposed the\nTelchines, those of Crete Jasion, to have escaped the cataclysm. In\nSamothracia the same character was attributed to Saon, said to be the\nson of Zeus or of Hermes; he seems only to have been a heroic form of\nthe Hermes Saos or Socos, the object of special worship in the island, a\ndivinity in whom M. Philippe Berges recognizes with good reason a\nPhoenician importation, the Sakan of Canaan identified elsewhere with\nHermes Dardanos, supposed to have arrived in Samothracia immediately\nafter these events, being driven by the Deluge from Arcadia.\n\nIn all these flood stories of Greece we cannot doubt that the tradition\nof a cataclysm fatal to the whole of humanity--a tradition common to all\nAryan peoples--was mixed up, as Knobel rightly observes, more or less\nprecisely with local catastrophes produced by extraordinary overflows of\nlakes or rivers, or the rupture of their natural embankments, the\nsinking of some portions of the sea-coast, or tidal waves consequent\nupon earthquakes or sudden upheavals of the ocean bed. Such events were\nfrequent in Greece, in the district between Egypt and Palestine, near\nPelusium and Mount Casius, as well as in the Cimbric Chersonese. The\nGreeks used to relate how often their country had in primitive ages been\nthe theatre of such catastrophes. Istros numbered four of these, one of\nwhich had opened the Straits of the Bosphorus and Hellespont, when the\nwaters of the Euxine, rushing into the Aegean, submerged the islands and\nneighbouring coasts. This is evidently the Deluge of Samothracia; where\nthe inhabitants who succeeded in saving themselves did so only by\ngaining the highest peak of the mountain that rises there; then, in\ngratitude for their preservation, consecrated the whole island by\nsurrounding its shores with a belt of altars dedicated to the gods. In\nlike manner the tradition of the Deluge of Ogyges seems connected with\nthe recollection of an extraordinary rise of the Lake Capais, inundating\nthe whole of the great Boeotian Valley, a recollection amplified\nlater--as is ever the case with legends--by applying to the local\ndisaster all the details popularly told of the primitive Deluge which\nhad taken place before the separation of the ancestors of the two races,\nSemitic and Aryan. It is also probable that some event that had occurred\nin Thessaly, or rather in the region of Parnassus, determined the\nlocalization of the legend of Deucalion. Nevertheless, it always\nretained, as we have seen, a more general character than the others,\nwhether the Deluge be extended to the whole earth or limited to the\nwhole of Greece.\n\nBe that as it may, the different narratives were reconciled by admitting\nthree successive Deluges, those of Ogyges, Deucalion, and Dardanos. The\ngeneral opinion pronounced the former the most ancient, placing it 600\nor 250 years before that of Deucalion. But this chronology is far from\nbeing universally accepted; and the inhabitants of Samothracia maintain\ntheir Deluge to have been the earliest. Christian chronographers of the\nthird and fourth century, as, for instance, Julius Africanus and\nEusebius, adopted the Hellenic dates of the Deluges of Ogyges and\nDeucalion, and inscribed them in their records as different events from\nthe Mosaic Deluge, which, for their part, they fixed at 1000 years\nbefore that of Ogyges.\n\nIn Phrygia the diluvian tradition was as natural as in Greece. The town\nof Apamea derived thence its surname _Kibotos_, or ark, and claimed to\nbe the place where the Ark had stopped. Iconium had the like\npretensions. In the same way the people of Milyas, in Armenia, showed\nthe fragments of the Ark on the top of the mountain called Baris; and\nthese were also exhibited in early Christian times to pilgrims on\nArarat, as Berosus tells us that in his day the remnants of the vessel\nof Khasisatra were visited on the Gordyan range.\n\nIn the second and third centuries of our era, by means of the syncretic\ninfiltration of Jewish and Christian traditions even into minds still\nattached to Paganism, the sacerdotal authorities of Apamea and Phrygia\nhad coins struck bearing an open ark, in which the patriarch and his\nwife were seen receiving back the dove with the olive branch, and side\nby side were the two same personages, having left the Ark to retake\npossession of the earth. On the Ark is inscribed the name =NOE=, the\nvery form the name assumes in the Septuagint. Thus, at this time the\nPagan priesthood of the Phrygian city had, we see, adopted the Biblical\nnarrative, even down to its names, and had grafted it on the old native\ntradition. They related that a short while before the Deluge there\nreigned a holy man called Annacos, who had predicted it, and occupied\nthe throne more than 300 years, an evident reproduction of the Enoch of\nthe Bible, who walked with God for 365 years.\n\nAs to the branch of the Celts--in the bardic poems of Wales, we have a\ntradition of the Deluge, which, although recent under the concise form\nof the Triads, is still deserving of attention. As usual, the legend is\nlocalized in the country, and the Deluge counts among three terrible\ncatastrophes of the island of Prydain, or Britain, the other two\nconsisting of devastation by fire and by drought.\n\n    \"The first of these events,\" it is said, \"was the irruption of\n    Llyn-llion, or 'the lake of waves,' and the inundation (_bawdd_) of\n    the whole country, by which all mankind was drowned with the\n    exception of Dwyfan and Dwyfach, who saved themselves in a vessel\n    without rigging, and it was by them that the island of Prydain was\n    re-peopled.\"[51]\n\nPictet here observes--\n\n    \"Although the triads in their actual form hardly date further than\n    the thirteenth or fourteenth century, some of them are undoubtedly\n    connected with very ancient traditions, and nothing here points to a\n    borrowing from Genesis.\n\n    \"But it is not so, perhaps, with another triad[52] speaking of the\n    vessel Nefydd-naf-Neifion, which at the time of the overflow of\n    Llyn-llion, bore a pair of all living creatures, and rather too much\n    resembles the ark of Noah. The very name of the patriarch may have\n    suggested this triple epithet, obscure as to its meaning, but\n    evidently formed on the principle of Cymric alliteration. In the\n    same triad we have the enigmatic story of the horned oxen (_ychain\n    bannog_) of Hu the mighty, who drew out of Llyn-llion the _avanc_\n    (beaver or crocodile?) in order that the lake should not overflow.\n    The meaning of these enigmas could only be hoped from deciphering\n    the chaos of bardic monuments of the Welsh middle age; but meanwhile\n    we cannot doubt that the Cymri possessed an indigenous tradition of\n    the Deluge.\"\n\nWe also find a vestige of the same tradition in the Scandinavian\nEalda.[53] But here the story is combined with a cosmogonic myth. The\nthree sons of Borr, Othin, Wili, and We, grandsons of Buri, the first\nman, slay Ymir, the father of the Hrimthursar or Ice giants, and his\nbody serves them for the construction of the world. Blood flows from his\nwounds in such abundance that all the race of giants is drowned in it,\nexcept Bergelmir, who saves himself, with his wife, in a boat, and\nreproduces the race. \"Thus,\" Pictet again observes, \"the myth only\nbelongs to the general tradition through these last features, by which,\nhowever, we trace it up to a common source.\"\n\nOf all European peoples the Lithuanians were the last to embrace\nChristianity, and their language remains nearest to the original Aryan.\nThey have a legend of the Deluge, the groundwork of which appears very\nancient, although it has assumed the simple character of a popular tale,\nand some of its details may have been borrowed from Genesis at the time\nof the first Christian missions. According to it[54] the god Pramzimras,\nseeing the whole earth to be full of iniquity, sends two giants, Wandu\nand Wejas (fire and wind), to lay it waste. These overthrew everything\nin their fury, and only a few men saved themselves on a mountain.\nPramzimras, who was engaged in eating celestial walnuts, dropped a shell\nnear the mountain, and in it the men took refuge, the giants respecting\nit. Having escaped from the calamity, they afterwards disperse, and only\none very aged couple remain in the country, greatly bewailing their\nchildless condition. Pramzimras, to console them, sends his rainbow and\nbids them jump \"on the bones of the earth,\" which curiously recalls the\noracle to Deucalion. The two old people jump nine times, and nine pairs\nare the result, who became the ancestors of the nine Lithuanian tribes.\n\n\nIV.\n\n_Egyptian Traditions._--While the tradition of the Deluge holds so\nconsiderable a place in the legendary memories of all branches of the\nAryan race, the monuments and original texts of Egypt, with their many\ncosmogonic speculations, have not afforded one, even distant, allusion\nto this cataclysm. When the Greeks told the Egyptian priests of the\nDeluge of Deucalion, their reply was that they had been preserved from\nit as well as from the conflagration produced by Phaeton; they even\nadded that the Hellenes were childish in attaching so much importance to\nthat event, as there had been several other local catastrophes\nresembling it. According to a passage in Manetho, much suspected,\nhowever, of being an interpolation, Thoth or Hermes Trismegistus had\nhimself, before the cataclysm, inscribed on stelae in hieroglyphical and\nsacred language the principles of all knowledge. After it the second\nThoth translated into the vulgar tongue the contents of these stelae.\nThis would be the only Egyptian mention of the Deluge, the same Manetho\nnot speaking of it in what remains to us of his \"Dynasties,\" his only\ncomplete authentic work. The silence of all other myths of the Pharaonic\nreligion on this head render it very likely that the above is merely a\nforeign tradition, recently introduced, and no doubt of Asiatic and\nChaldean origin. \"Thus,\" says M. Maury, \"the Seriadic land, where the\npassage in question places these hieroglyphic columns, might very well\nbe no other than Chaldea. This tradition, though not in the Bible,\nexisted as a popular legend among the Jews at the beginning of our era,\nwhich confirms our supposition; as the Hebrews might have learnt it\nduring the Babylonian captivity. Josephus tells us that the patriarch\nSeth, in order that wisdom and astronomical knowledge should not perish,\nerected, in prevision of the double destruction by fire and water\npredicted by Adam, two columns, the one in brick, the other in stone, on\nwhich this knowledge was engraved, and which subsisted in the Seriadic\ncountry.\" This history is evidently only a variety of the Chaldean\nlegend of the terra-cotta tables bearing the divine revelations, and the\nprinciples of all sciences which Ea ordered Khasisatra to bury before\nthe Deluge, \"in the city of the Sun at Sippara,\" as we have had it above\nin the extracts from Berosus.\n\nNevertheless, the Egyptians did admit a destruction by the gods of\nprimal men on account of their rebellion and their sins. This event was\nrelated in a chapter of the sacred books of Thoth, those famous Hermetic\nbooks of the Egyptian priesthood which are graven on the sides of one of\nthe inmost chambers of the funereal hypogeum of Seti the First at\nThebes. The text has been published and translated by M. Edouard\nNaville.[55]\n\nThe scene is laid at the close of the reign of the god Ra, the earliest\nterrestrial reign, according to the system of the priests of Thebes, the\nsecond, according to that of the priests of Memphis, which is the one\nfollowed by Manetho, who placed at the very origin of things the reign\nof Phtah, previous to that of Ra. Irritated by the impiety and crimes of\nthe men he has made, the god assembles the other gods to hold counsel\nwith them in profound secrecy, \"so that men should not see it, nor their\nheart be afraid.\"\n\n    \"Said by Ra to Nun:[56] 'Thou, the eldest of the gods, of whom I am\n    born, and ye ancient gods, here are the men who are born from\n    myself; they speak words against me, tell me what you would do in\n    the matter; lo, I have waited, and have not slain them before\n    hearing your words.'\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of Nun: 'My son Ra, a greater god than he who\n    has made him and created him, I stand in great fear of thee; do thou\n    deliberate alone.'\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of Ra: 'Lo, they take to flight through the\n    country, and their hearts are afraid....'\n\n    \"Said by the Gods: 'Let thy face permit, and let those men be\n    smitten who plot evil things, thine enemies, and let none [of them\n    remain.]'\"\n\nA goddess, whose name has unfortunately disappeared, but who seems to\nhave been Tefnut, identified with Hathor and Sekhet, is then sent to\naccomplish the sentence of destruction.\n\n    \"This goddess left, and slew the men upon the earth.\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of this God: 'Come in peace, Hathor; thou hast\n    done [what was ordained thee.]'\n\n    \"Said by this Goddess: 'Thou art living; for I have been stronger\n    than men, and my heart is satisfied.'\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of Ra: 'I am living, for I will rule over them\n    [and I will complete] their ruin.'\n\n    \"And lo, Sekhet, during several nights, trod their blood under-foot\n    as far as the town of Ha-klinen-su (Heracleopolis.)\"\n\nBut the massacre ended, the anger of Ra was appeased; he began to repent\nof what he had done. A great expiatory sacrifice succeeded in finally\ncalming him. Fruits were gathered throughout Egypt, bruised, and their\njuice mingled with human blood, 7000 pitchers being filled with it and\npresented to the god.\n\n    \"And lo, the Majesty of Ra, the god of Upper and Lower Egypt, comes\n    with the gods in three days of sailing to see these vases of drink,\n    after he had ordered the goddess to slay men.\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of Ra: 'This is well; I will protect men\n    because of it.' Said by Ra: 'I raise my hand concerning this, to say\n    that I will no more destroy men.'\n\n    \"The Majesty of Ra, the god of Upper and Lower Egypt, commanded in\n    the middle of the night to overthrow the liquid in the vases, and\n    the fields were completely filled with water by the will of this\n    god. The goddess arrived in the morning, and found the fields full\n    of water. Her face grew joyous, and she drank abundantly and went\n    away satisfied. She no more perceived any men.\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of Ra to the goddess: 'Come in peace, gracious\n    goddess.'\n\n    \"And he caused the young priestesses of Amu to be born.\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of Ra to this goddess: 'Libations shall be made\n    to her at each of the festivals of the new year, under the\n    superintendence of my priestesses.'\n\n    \"Hence it comes that libations are made under the superintendence of\n    the priestesses of Hathor by all men since the ancient days.\"\n\nNevertheless, some men have escaped the destruction commanded by Ra, and\nrenewed the population of the earth. As for the solar god who reigns\nover the world, he feels himself old, sick and weary; he has had enough\nof living among men, whom he regrets not to have completely annihilated,\nbut has sworn henceforth to spare.\n\n    \"Said by the Majesty of Ra: 'There is a smarting pain that torments\n    me; what is it then that hurts me?' Said by the Majesty of Ra: 'I am\n    living, but my heart is weary of being with them [men], and I have\n    in no way destroyed them. That destruction is not one that I have\n    made myself.'\n\n    \"Said by the gods who accompany him: 'Away with lassitude, thou hast\n    obtained all thou didst desire.'\"\n\nThe god Ra decides, however, to accept the help of the men of the new\nhuman race who offer themselves to him to combat his enemies, and a\ngreat battle takes place, out of which they come victorious. But in\nspite of this success the god, disgusted with earthly life, resolves to\nquit it for ever, and has himself carried into heaven by the goddess\nNut, who takes the form of a cow. Then he creates a region of delight,\nthe fields of Aalu, the Elysium of Egyptian mythology, which he peoples\nwith stars. Entering into rest, he assigns to different gods the\ngovernment of different parts of the world. Shu, who is to succeed him\nas king, is to administer celestial matters with Nut; Seb and Nun\nreceive the charge of the things of earth and water. Finally, Ra, a\nsovereign who has voluntarily abdicated, goes to dwell with Thoth, his\nfavourite son, on whom he has bestowed the superintendence of the\nunder-world.\n\nSuch is this strange narrative, \"in which,\" as M. Naville has well said,\n\"in the midst of fantastic and often puerile inventions, we do\nnevertheless find the two terms of existence as understood by the\nancient Egyptians. Ra begins with earth, and passing through heaven\nstops in the region of profundity, Ament, in which he apparently wishes\nto sojourn. This then is a symbolic and religious representation of\nlife, which for every Egyptian--and especially for a royal\nconqueror--had to begin and end like the sun. This explains the chapter\nbeing inscribed in a tomb.\"\n\nHence it was the last portion of the narrative--which we can analyse but\nvery briefly--the abdication of Ra and his retreat, first, in heaven,\nnext in the Ament, a symbol of death which is to be followed by\nresurrection as the setting of the sun by its rising--it is this which\nconstituted its interest in the conception of the doctrine of a future\nlife, illustrated in the decoration of the interior of the tomb of Seti\nI. For our present purpose, on the contrary, it is the beginning of the\nstory which constitutes its importance, it is that destruction of primal\nhumanity by the gods of which no mention has been hitherto found\nelsewhere. Although the means of destruction employed by Ra are quite\ndissimilar, although he does not proceed by submersion but by a massacre\nin which the lion-headed goddess Tefnut or Sekhet, the dreadful form of\nHathor, is the agent, the other sides of the story bear a sufficiently\nstriking analogy to that of the Mosaic or Chaldean Deluge to show that\nit is the special and very individual form assumed in Egypt by that\ntradition. In both we have human corruption exciting divine wrath, and\npunished by a divinely ordained annihilation of the race, from which\nthere escapes but a very small number destined to give birth to a new\nhumanity. Finally, after the event an expiatory sacrifice appeases the\ncelestial anger, and a solemn covenant is made between men and the\ndeity, who swears never so to destroy them again. To me, the agreement\nof these principal features outweighs the divergence in detail. And we\nhave also to observe how singularly akin is the part ascribed by the\nEgyptian priest to Ra with that assigned in the epic poem of Uruk to the\ngod Bel, in the deluge of Khasisatra. The Egyptians believed, as did\nother nations, in the destruction of mankind; but as inundation meant\nfor them prosperity and life, they changed the primitive tradition; the\nhuman race, instead of perishing by water, was otherwise exterminated;\nand the inundation--that crowning benefit to the valley of the\nNile--became in their eyes the sign that the wrath of Ra was appeased.\n\n\nV.\n\n_American Stories of the Flood._\n\n    \"It is a very remarkable fact,\" says M. Alfred Maury, \"that we find\n    in America traditions of the Deluge coming infinitely nearer to that\n    of the Bible and the Chaldean religion than among any people of the\n    Old World. It is difficult to suppose that the emigration that\n    certainly took place from Asia into North America by the Kourile and\n    Aleutian islands, and still does so in our day, should have brought\n    in these memories, since no trace is found of them among those\n    Mongol or Siberian populations,[57] which were fused with the\n    natives of the New World.... No doubt certain American nations, the\n    Mexicans and Peruvians, had reached a very advanced social condition\n    at the time of the Spanish conquest, but this civilization had a\n    special character, and seems to have been developed on the soil\n    where it flourished. Many very simple inventions, such as the use of\n    weights, were unknown to these people, and this shows that their\n    knowledge was not derived from India or Japan. The attempts that\n    have been made to trace the origin of Mexican civilization to Asia\n    have not as yet led to any sufficiently conclusive facts. Besides,\n    had Buddhism, which we doubt, made its way into America, it could\n    not have introduced a myth not found in its own Scriptures.[58] The\n    cause of these similarities between the diluvian traditions of the\n    nations of the New World and that of the Bible remains therefore\n    unexplained.\"\n\nI have particular pleasure in quoting these words by a man of immense\nerudition, because he does not belong to orthodox writers, and will not\ntherefore be thought biassed by a preconceived opinion. Others also, no\nless rationalistic than he, have pointed out this likeness between\nAmerican traditions of the Deluge and those of the Bible and the\nChaldeans.\n\nThe most important among the former are the Mexican, for they appear to\nhave been definitively fixed by symbolic and mnemonic paintings before\nany contact with Europeans. According to these documents, the Noah of\nthe Mexican cataclysm was Coxcox, called by certain peoples Teocipactli\nor Tezpi. He had saved himself, together with his wife Xochiquetzal, in\na bark, or, according to other traditions, on a raft, made of cypress\nwood (_Cupressus disticha_). Paintings retracing the deluge of Coxcox\nhave been discovered among the Aztecs, Miztecs, Zapotecs, Tlascaltecs,\nand Mechoacaneses. The tradition of the latter is still more strikingly\nin conformity with the story as we have it in Genesis and in Chaldean\nsources. It tells how Tezpi embarked in a spacious vessel with his wife,\nhis children, and several animals, and grain, whose preservation was\nessential to the subsistence of the human race. When the great god\nTezcatlipoca decreed that the waters should retire, Tezpi sent a vulture\nfrom the bark. The bird, feeding on the carcases with which the earth\nwas laden, did not return. Tezpi sent out other birds, of which the\nhumming-bird only came back with a leafy branch in its beak. Then Tezpi,\nseeing that the country began to vegetate, left his bark on the mountain\nof Colhuacan.\n\nThe document, however, that gives the most valuable information as to\nthe cosmogony of the Mexicans is one known as \"Codex Vaticanus,\" from\nthe library where it is preserved. It consists of four symbolic\npictures, representing the four ages of the world preceding the actual\none. They were copied at Chobula from a manuscript anterior to the\nconquest, and accompanied by the explanatory commentary of Pedro de los\nRios, a Dominican monk, who in 1566, less than fifty years after the\narrival of Cortez, devoted himself to the research of indigenous\ntraditions as being necessary to his missionary work.\n\nThe first age is marked with the cipher 13\u00d7400+6, or 5206, which\nAlexander von Humboldt understands as giving the number of years of the\nperiod, and Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg as the date of its commencement,\nfrom a proleptic era going back from the period of the execution of the\nmanuscript. This age is called _Tlatonatiuh_, \"Sun of Earth.\" It is that\nof the giants, or Quinames, the earliest inhabitants of Anahuac, whose\nend was destruction by famine.\n\nThe number of the second age is 12\u00d7400+4, or 4804, and it is called\n_Tlatonatiuh_, \"Sun of Fire.\" It closes with the descent on Earth of\nXiuhteuchli, the god of fire. Mankind are all transformed into birds,\nand only thus escape the conflagration. Nevertheless, one human pair\nfind refuge in a cave, and repeople the world.\n\nAs to the third age, _Ehecatonatiuh_, \"Sun of Wind,\" its number is\n10\u00d7400+10, or 4010. Its final catastrophe is a terrible hurricane raised\nby Quetzalcoatl, the \"god of the air.\" With few exceptions, men are\nmetamorphosed into monkeys.\n\nThen comes the fourth age, _Atonatiuh_, \"Sun of Water,\" whose number is\n10\u00d7400+8, or 4008. It ends by a great inundation, a veritable deluge.\nAll mankind are changed into fish, with the exception of one man and his\nwife, who save themselves in a bark made of the trunk of a cypress-tree.\nThe picture represents Matlalcueye, goddess of waters, and consort of\nTlaloc, god of rain, as darting down towards earth. Coxcox and\nXochiquetzal, the two human beings preserved, are seen seated on a\ntree-trunk and floating in the midst of the waters. This flood is\nrepresented as the last cataclysm that devastates the earth.\n\nAll this is most important, as a mind of the order of Humboldt's did not\nhesitate to acknowledge. However, M. Girard de Realle wrote quite\nrecently:\n\n    \"The myth of the deluge has been met with in several parts of\n    America, and Christian writers have not failed to see in it a\n    reminiscence of the Biblical tradition, nay, in connection with the\n    pyramid of Chobula, they have found traces of the Tower of Babel. We\n    shall not waste time in pointing out how out of a fish-god, Coxcox,\n    among the Chichimecs, Teocipactli among the Aztecs, and a goddess of\n    flowers, Xochiquetzal, it was easy to concoct the Mexican figures of\n    Noah and his wife by joining on to them the story of the ark and the\n    dove. It is enough to observe that all these legends have only been\n    collected and published at a relatively recent period.[59] The first\n    chroniclers, so cautious already despite their honest simplicity,\n    such as Sahagun, Mendieta, Olmos, and the Hispano-indigenous\n    authors, such as the Tezcucan Ixthilxochitl and the Tlascaltec\n    Camargo, never breathe a word of stories they could not have failed\n    to bring to light, had they existed in their days. Lastly, we find\n    in Mr. Bancroft's[60] work a criticism of these legends, due to Don\n    Jose Fernando Ramirez, keeper of the National Museum, which proves\n    incontestably that all these stories spring from all too ready and\n    tendency-fraught interpretations of old Mexican paintings, which\n    according to him only represent episodes in the migration of Aztecs\n    around the central lakes of the plateau of Anahuac.\"\n\nI much fear that the _tendency_ here is not on the side of writers who\nare looked on as ground to powder by the epithet Christian; which,\nindeed, be it said in passing, might well surprise a few among them. And\nthis tendency, when resolved at any cost to attack the Bible, is as\nanti-scientific as when grasping at any uncritical argument in its\ndefence. No doubt the identical character of Xochiquetzal or\nMaciulxochiquetzal, as goddess of the fertilizing rain and of\nvegetation, with that of Chalchihuitlicue or Mallalcueye, is a\nwell-known fact, more certain even than the character of fish-god of\nCoxcox or Teocipactli. But the transformation of gods into heroes is a\nvery common fact in all polytheisms, and most common in the kind of\nunconscious euhemerism from which infant peoples never free themselves.\nThere is therefore nothing here to contradict the fact that these two\ndivine personages, contemplated as heroes, may be taken as the two\nsurvivors of the Flood, and the ancestors of the new humanity. As to the\ntheory of Don Jose Ramirez, about the symbolic pictures that have been\ninterpreted as expressing the diluvian tradition, it is very ingenious\nand scientifically presented, but not so absolutely proved as M. Girard\nde Realle considers. But even granting its incontestability, it only\nremoves part of the evidence which may have been unintentionally forced\nby those naturally disposed to see in it a parallel to Genesis; as for\ninstance, with regard to the sending out the birds by Tezpi. Still the\nexistence of the tradition among Mexican peoples would not be shaken,\nfor it rests upon a whole of indubitable testimony, confirming in a\nstriking manner the interpretation hitherto given of the \"Codex\nVaticanus.\"\n\nThe valuable work in the Aztec language, and in Latin letters, compiled\nby a native, subsequently to the Spanish conquest, called _Codex\nChimalpopoca_ by Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg, who gives an analysis and\npartial translation of it in the first volume of his \"Histoire des\nNations Civilisees du Mexique,\" contains in its third portion a history\nof the suns, or successive ages of the world. Each takes its name from\nthe way in which humanity is destroyed at its close. The first is the\nage of jaguars, who devour the primordial giants;[61] the second, the\nage of wind; at its close men lost themselves, and were carried off by\nthe hurricane, and transformed themselves into monkeys. Houses, woods,\neverything was swept away by the wind. Then comes the age of fire, whose\nsun is called Tlalocan-Teuctli, \"Lord of the lower regions,\" the usual\nappellation of Mictlanteuctli, the Mexican Pluto, which seems to point\nto the idea of an age of special volcanic activity. At its close,\nmankind is destroyed by a rain of fire, and such as do not perish escape\nunder the form of birds. Finally, the fourth age is that of water,\nwhich immediately precedes our present epoch, and closes with the\nDeluge.\n\nHere is the narrative according to Abbe Brasseur's version, held correct\nby Americanists:--\n\n    \"This is the sun called _Nahui-atl_, '4 water.'[62] Now the water\n    was tranquil for forty years, plus twelve, and men lived for the\n    third and fourth times. When the sun _Nahui-atl_ came there had\n    passed away four hundred years, plus two ages, plus seventy-six\n    years. Then all mankind was lost and drowned and found themselves\n    changed into fish. The sky came nearer the water. In a single day\n    all was lost and the day _Nahui-xochitl_ '4 flower,' destroyed all\n    our flesh.\n\n    \"And that year was that of _ce-calli_, '1 house,'[63] and the day\n    _Nahui-atl_ all was lost. Even the mountains sank into the water,\n    and the water remained tranquil for fifty-two springs.\n\n    \"Now at the end of the year the god Titlacahuan had warned Nata and\n    his spouse Nena, saying: 'Make no more wine of Agave, but begin to\n    hollow out a great cypress, and you will enter into it when in the\n    month Tozontli the water approaches the sky.'\n\n    \"Then they entered in, and when the god had closed the door he said:\n    'Thou shalt eat but one ear of maize and thy wife one also.'\n\n    \"But as soon as they had finished they went out, and the water\n    remained calm, for the wood no longer moved, and on opening it they\n    began to see fish.\n\n    \"Then they lit a fire, by rubbing together pieces of wood, and they\n    roasted fish.\n\n    \"The gods Citlallinicue and Citlalatonac instantly looking down\n    said: 'Divine Lord, what is that fire that is making there. Why do\n    they thus smoke the sky?' At once Titlacahuan-Tezcatlipoca\n    descended. He began to chide, saying, 'Who has made this fire here?'\n    And seizing hold of the fish he shaped their loins and heads, and\n    they were transformed into dogs (_chichime_).\"\n\nThis last touch is a satire on the Chichimecs, or \"barbarians of the\nNorth,\" founders of the kingdom of Tezcuco. It proves the decidedly\nindigenous character of the story, and removes any such suspicion of a\nBiblical imitation, as the date might have led to.\n\nThe manuscript, written in Spanish by Motolina, who belonged to the\ngeneration of the \"conquistadores,\" has hitherto only been known by\nextracts given from it by Abbe Brasseur in his \"Recherches sur les\nRuines de Palenque,\" a work containing many useful documents, though\nalready pervaded by the delusions which towards the end of his career so\nstrangely misled this learned pioneer of Mexican antiquarianism. Here,\ntoo, we find the theory of the four suns, or four ages, given in the\nsame order as by the author of the \"Codex Chimalpopoca.\"\n\nThe first is called \"age of Tezcatlipoca,\" because that god had then\nadded on a half to the sun, which was only half luminous, or had \"made\nhimself sun in its place.\" This was the age of the Quinames, or giants,\nwho were almost all exterminated by famine. After this, Quetzlcoatl, the\ngod of the air, having armed himself with a great stick, struck\nTezcatlipoca with it, threw him into the water, and \"and made himself\nsun in his place.\" The fallen god, transforming himself into a jaguar,\ndevoured such of the Quinames as had escaped from the famine. The\nstatements of the \"Codex Vaticanus\" and the \"Codex Chimalpopoca\" as to\nthe final catastrophe of the world's first age, are thus reconciled by\nthis last narrative.\n\nMotolina calls the two next ages those of wind and fire; they are closed\nin the way we have seen.\n\nThe fourth is the age of the \"Sun of Water,\" placed under the patronage\nof the goddess Chalchihuitlicue. The Deluge terminates it, and after\nthis last cataclysm, we enter upon our present era.\n\nWe come next to the \"History of the Chichimecs,\" by Don Fernando d'Alva\nIxtlilxochitl, descendant of the old pagan kings of Tezcuco, whose\npretended silence on the subject we have seen appealed to as disproving\nthe authenticity of these Mexican diluvian traditions. In the first\nchapter of his first book, Ixtlilxochitl relates the story of the cosmic\nages according to the traditions of his native city. He only gives four\nin all, including the actual period. The first is the _Atonatiuh_, or\n\"Sun of Waters,\" which begins with the creation, and ends with a\nuniversal deluge. Then comes the _Thlachitonatiuh_, or \"Sun of Earth,\"\nwhen the giants called Quinametziu-Tzocuilhioxime lived, descendants of\nthe survivors of the first epoch. A frightful earthquake, overthrowing\nthe mountains, and destroying the greater part of the dwellers on earth,\ncloses this age. It is in the third age, _Ehecatonatiuh_, \"Sun of Wind,\"\nthat Olmecs and Xicalanques came from the east to settle in the south of\nMexico. At first they were conquered by the remnant of the Quinames, but\nended by massacring these. Quetzalcoatl next appears as a religious\nreformer, but is not listened to by men, whose indocility is punished by\nthe appalling hurricane during which such as escaped became monkeys.\nThen begins the present age, _Tlatonatiuh_, or \"Sun of Fire,\" thus\ncalled because it is to end by a rain of fire. We see, therefore, that\nIxtlilxochitl was perfectly acquainted with the diluvian tradition, and\nif he does not enter into its details, he assigns it an important place\nin his series of ages.\n\nTherefore we must needs acknowledge the diluvian tradition to be really\nindigenous in Mexico and not an invention of missionaries. We may doubt\nas to some particulars in some of the versions, though this arises\nchiefly from a preconceived idea, because they too much resemble the\nstory in Genesis; but as to the fundamental tradition it is\nunassailable, and intimately connected with a conception not drawn from\nthe Bible--and universally admitted to have existed--that, namely, of\nthe four ages of the world. Between this conception, and that of the\nfour ages or Yugas of India, and of the _manvantaras_ where the\ndestruction of the world and the renewals of humanity alternate, there\nis an analogy which appeared very significant to Humboldt, MacCulloch,\nand M. Maury. It is one that justifies us in asking whether the Mexicans\ndevised it independently or borrowed it more or less directly from\nIndia. The system of the four ages, inseparable in Mexico from that of\nthe diluvian tradition, confronts us with the problem--ever recurring\nwith regard to American civilization--of how far these are spontaneous\nand how far derived from Asia through Buddhist or other missionaries. In\nthe present state of our knowledge we can as little solve this problem\nnegatively as affirmatively, and all attempts made to come to a positive\nconclusion are premature and unproductive. Before discovering whence\nAmerican civilizations came, we must thoroughly know what they were, nor\nattempt the arduous and obscure question of their origin till we frame a\nreal American archaeology on the same scientific basis and by the same\nmethods as other archaeologies. And in this respect Messrs. T. G. Muller\nand Herbert Bancroft appear to me greatly in advance of their precursors\nin this field of inquiry.\n\nFor the present, all that can be done is, as I have attempted with Flood\nstories, to determine facts without pretending to draw inferences. Hence\nI should no longer boldly write, as I did eight years ago: \"The Flood\nstories of Mexico positively prove the tradition of the Deluge to be one\nof the oldest held by humanity--a tradition so primitive as to be\nanterior to the dispersion of human families and the final developments\nof material civilization; which the Red race peopling America brought\nfrom the common cradle of our species into their new home, at the same\ntime that the Semites, Chaldeans, and Aryans respectively carried it\ninto theirs.\"[64] The fact is that among American peoples this tradition\nmay not be primitive. We may indeed affirm that it was not borrowed from\nthe Bible after the arrival of the Spaniards, but we cannot be equally\nconfident that it was not the result of some previous foreign\nimportation, the precise date of which we have no means of fixing.\n\nBe that as it may, the doctrines of successive ages, and of the\ndestruction of the men of the first age by a Deluge, is also found in\nthe curious book of _Popol-vuh_ that collection of the mythological\ntraditions of Guatemala, written after the conquest in the native\ntongue, by a secret adept of the old religion; discovered, copied, and\ntranslated into Spanish in the beginning of the last century by the\nDominican Francisco Ximenez, cure of St. Thomas of Chiula. His Spanish\nversion has been published by M. Schelzer, the original text with a\nFrench translation by Abbe Brasseur. Here we read that the gods, seeing\nthat animals were neither capable of speaking nor of adoring them,\ndetermined to make men in their own image. They fashioned them at first\nin clay. But those men had no consistency, could not turn their heads;\nspoke, indeed, but understood nothing. The gods then destroyed their\nimperfect work by a Deluge. Setting about it for the second time, they\nmade a man of wood and a woman of resin. These creatures were far\nsuperior to the former; they moved and lived, but only like other\nanimals; they spoke, but unintelligibly; and gave no thought to the\ngods. Then Hurakan, \"the heart of heaven,\" the god of storm, caused a\nrain of burning resin to fall, while the ground was shaken by a fearful\nearthquake. All the descendants of the wood-and-resin pair perished,\nwith a few exceptions, who became monkeys of the forest. Finally, out of\nwhite and yellow maize, the gods produced four perfect men:\nBalam-Quitze, \"the smiling jaguar;\" Balam-agab, \"the jaguar of the\nnight;\" Mahuentah, \"the distinguished name;\" and Igi-Balam, \"the jaguar\nof the moon.\" They were tall and strong; saw and knew everything, and\nrendered thanks to the gods. But the latter were alarmed at this their\nfinal success, and feared for their supremacy: accordingly, they threw a\nlight veil, like a mist, over the vision of the four men, which became\nlike that of the men of to-day. While they slept the gods created for\nthem four wives of great beauty, and from three of these pairs the\nQuiches were born--Igi-Balam and his wife Cakixaha having no children.\nThis series of awkward attempts at creation is sufficiently removed from\nthe Biblical narrative to do away with any suspicion of Christian\nmissionary influence over this indigenous quadrennial legend, where, as\nusual, we find the belief in the destruction of primal mankind by a\ngreat flood.\n\nWe meet with it in Nicaragua as well. Oviedo relates that Pedsarias\nDavila, governor of the province in 1538, charged F. Bobadilla, of the\nOrder of St. Dominic, to inquire into the spiritual condition of those\nIndians whom his predecessors boasted of having converted in great\nnumbers to Catholicism, which he, Davila, with good reason, doubted. The\nmonk accordingly examined the natives, and Oviedo has transmitted\nseveral dialogues which show us the creed of the Nicaraguans a few years\nafter the Spanish conquest. The following bears directly on our\nsubject:--\n\n    \"_Question by Bobadilla._ Who has created heaven and earth, the\n    stars and moon, man and all else?\n\n    \"_Answer (by the Cacique Avogoaltegoan)._ Tamagastad and Cippatoval,\n    the one is a man, the other a woman.\n\n    \"_Q._ Who created that man and woman?\n\n    \"_A._ No one. On the contrary, all men and women descend from them.\n\n    \"_Q._ Did they create Christians?\n\n    \"_A._ I do not know, but the Indians descend from Tamagastad and\n    Cippatoval.\n\n    \"_Q._ Are there any gods greater than they?\n\n    \"_A._ No; we believe them to be the greatest.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \"_Q._ Are they gods of flesh or wood, or any other substance?\n\n    \"_A._ They are of flesh; they are man and woman, brown in colour\n    like us Indians. They walked on earth dressed like us, and ate what\n    Indians eat.\n\n    \"_Q._ Who gave them to eat?\n\n    \"_A._ Everything belongs to them.\n\n    \"_Q._ Where are they now?\n\n    \"_A._ In heaven, according to what our ancestors have told us.\n\n    \"_Q._ How did they ascend thither?\n\n    \"_A._ I only know that it is their home. I do not know how they were\n    born, for they have no father nor mother.\n\n    \"_Q._ How do they live at present?\n\n    \"_A._ They eat what Indians eat, for maize and all food proceeds\n    from the place where dwell the _teotes_ (gods).\n\n    \"_Q._ Do you know, or have you heard tell, whether since the\n    _teotes_ created the world it has been destroyed?\n\n    \"_A._ Before the present race existed, the world was destroyed by\n    water and all became sea.\n\n    \"_Q._ How did that man and woman escape?\n\n    \"_A._ They were in heaven, for that was their dwelling, and\n    afterwards they came down to earth and re-made all things as they\n    now are, and we are their issue.\n\n    \"_Q._ You say the whole world was destroyed by water. Did not some\n    individuals save themselves in a canoe, or by some other way?\n\n    \"_A._ No. All the world was drowned, according to what my ancestors\n    told me.\"\n\nThe great god Tamagastad, of whom mention is made in this dialogue, is\nevidently the same as Thomagata, the awful-visaged spirit of fire, whose\ncultus was anterior among a portion of the Muyscas at Tunga and Sogamosa\nto that of Botchica. This, therefore, brings us back to the religious\nand cosmogonic traditions of the very advanced civilization in the high\ntable-land of Cundinamarca, and we are led to recognize in the\nFlood-legend of Botchica a certain echo of the so universally spread\ntradition of the Deluge of early ages, mingled with the memory of a\nlocal event, from which the ancestors of the Muyscas had suffered at the\ntime of their first settlement. Neither must we forget that Botchica and\nhis wicked spouse, who brought about the inundation of Cundinamarca, are\nno other than personifications of the sun and moon, as were the pair\nManco-Capac and Mama-Oello in the empire of the Incas. \"The moon of Peru\nis gentle and beneficent,\" well observes M. Girard de Realle, \"she helps\nher brother and husband in the work of civilization; on the plateau of\nCundinamarca, on the contrary, she is a witch, a veritable deity of\nnight and of evil, worthily represented by the lugubrious owl.\"\n\nSome have believed themselves to have discovered the Flood-tradition\namong the Peruvians, but careful criticism disproves this. For it only\narises from an unintelligent interpretation of the myth of Viracocha or\nCon, god of waters, or more precisely, the personification of the\nelement, as shown by the legend which represents him as having no bones,\nand yet stretching himself out afar, lowering the mountains and filling\nup the valleys in his course. He was the chief god of the Aymaras, who,\naccording to them, had created the earth; and who, issuing from Lake\nTiticaca, to manifest himself on earth, had assembled the earliest men\nat Tiahuanaco. Later, the official cosmogony of the Incas led to his\nundergoing an euhemeristic transformation diminishing his religious\nimportance; and he is represented as one of the sons of the Sun, come\nupon earth to dwell among and civilize mankind, a younger brother of\nManco-Capac. Now it is under the government of Viracocha that the Deluge\nis placed by the writers of very recent date, who mention this event, of\nwhich the native tradition was unknown to the Inca Garcilaso de la Vega,\nto Montesinos, Balboa, Gomara, F. Oliva, and, in short, to all\nauthorities of any weight in Peruvian matters. MacCulloch does indeed\nquote Acosta and Herrera, but these authors never speak of a Deluge\ninvolving all humanity; they only say that Viracocha gave laws to the\nearliest men at the close of a primordial period anterior to their\ncreation, when the whole surface of the earth had been under water.\n\nNumerous legends of the great inundation of earliest times have been\nfound among the savage tribes of America. But by their very nature these\nleave room for doubt. They have not been committed to writing by the\nnatives, we only know them by intermediaries who may, in perfectly good\nfaith, have altered them considerably in an unconscious desire to\nassimilate them to the Bible story. Besides, they have been only\ncollected very lately, when the tribes had been for a long time in\ncontact with Europeans, and had often had living among them more than\none adventurer who might well have introduced new elements into their\ntraditions. They are therefore very inferior in importance to those we\nhave found existing in Mexico, Guatemala, and Nicaragua, previous to the\narrival of the Spanish conquerors.\n\nThe most remarkable of them, as excluding by its very form the idea of\nEuropean communication, is that of the Cherokees. It seems a childish\nversion of the Indian tradition, only that it is a dog instead of a fish\nwho plays the part of deliverer to the man who escapes the catastrophe;\nbut this brings us back to a myth special to America--that of the\ntransformation of fish into dogs, as we have seen in the Flood-story of\nthe \"Codex Chimalpopoca.\"\n\n    \"The dog,\" says the legend of the Cherokees, \"never ceased for\n    several days to run up and down the banks of the river, looking\n    fixedly at the water and howling as in distress. His master was\n    annoyed by his ways and roughly ordered him to go home, upon which\n    he began speaking and revealed the impending calamity, ending his\n    prediction by saying that the only way in which his master and his\n    family could escape was by throwing him at once into the water, for\n    he would become their deliverer by swimming to seek a boat, but that\n    there was not a moment to lose, for a terrible rain was at hand\n    which would lead to a general inundation in which everything would\n    perish. The man obeyed his dog, was saved with his family, and they\n    repeopled the earth.\"\n\nIt is said that the Tamanakis, a Carib tribe on the banks of the\nOrinoco, have a legend of the man and woman who escaped the flood by\nreaching the summit of Mount Tapanacu. There they threw cocoa-nuts\nbehind them, from which sprung a new race of men and women. If the\nreport be true, which, however, we cannot affirm, this would be a very\nsingular agreement with one of the distinctive features of the Greek\nstory of Deucalion and Pyrrha.\n\nRussian explorers have reported a childlike narrative of the flood in\nthe Aleutian Islands, forming the geographical link between Asia and\nNorth America, and at the extremity of the north-east of America among\nthe Kolosks. Henry the traveller gives the following tradition as\ncurrent among the Indians of the Great Lakes:--\n\n    \"In former times the father of the Indian tribes dwelt towards the\n    rising sun. Having been warned in a dream that a deluge was coming\n    upon the earth, he built a raft, on which he saved himself with his\n    family and all the animals. He floated thus for several months. The\n    animals, who at that time spoke, loudly complained and murmured\n    against him. At last a new earth appeared, on which he landed with\n    all the animals, who from that time lost the power of speech as a\n    punishment for their murmurs against their deliverer.\"\n\nAccording to Father Charlevoix, the tribes of Canada and the valley of\nthe Mississippi relate in their rude legends that all mankind was\ndestroyed by a flood, and that the good spirit, to repeople the earth,\nhad changed animals into men. It is to J. S. Kohl we owe our\nacquaintance with the version of the Chippeways--full of grotesque and\nperplexing touches--in which the man saved from the deluge is called\nMenaboshu.[65] To know if the earth be drying he sends a bird, the\ndiver, out of his bark; then becomes the restorer of the human race and\nthe founder of existing society. Catlin relates a story, current among\nthe Mandans, of the earth being a great tortoise borne on the waters,\nand that when one day, in digging the soil, a tribe of white men pierced\nthe shell of the tortoise, it sank, and the water covering it drowned\nall men, with the exception of one, who saved himself in a boat; and\nwhen the earth re-emerged, sent out a dove, who returned with a branch\nof willow in its beak. Here we have Noah's dove, as in the story of\nTezpi and Menaboshu we have other birds substituted for it. But the\nnative originality of this detail, as of the whole diluvian tradition\namong the Mandans, may well be doubted when we remember that the\nphysical peculiarities of this curious tribe on the banks of the\nMissouri led Catlin to consider it of mixed blood, and partly white\norigin.\n\nIn the songs of the inhabitants of New California allusion was made to a\nvery remote period when the sea left its bed and covered the earth. The\nwhole race of men and animals perished in this deluge, sent by the\nsupreme god Chinigchinig, with the exception of a few who had taken\nrefuge on a high mountain which the water failed to reach. The\nCommissioners of the United States who explored New Mexico before its\nannexation, tell of the existence of a similar tradition among the\ndifferent native tribes of that vast territory. Other travellers give us\nkindred narratives, more or less strikingly resembling the Bible record.\nBut for the most part they are too vaguely reported to be entirely\ntrusted.\n\n\nVI.\n\n_Polynesian Traditions._--In Oceania even, and not among the Pelagian\nnegroes or Papoos,[66] but the Polynesian, racenatives of the\narchipelago of Australasia, the diluvian tradition has been traced,\nmingled with recollections of sudden rises of the sea, which are one of\nthe most frequent scourges of those islands. The most noted is that of\nTahiti, which has been specially referred to the primeval tradition.\nHere it is as given by M. Gaussin,[67] who has published a translation\nof it, as well as the Tahitian text, written by a native named Mare:--\n\n    \"Two men had gone out to sea to fish with the line, Roo and Teahoroa\n    by name. They threw their hooks into the sea, which caught in the\n    hair of the god Ruahatu. They exclaimed, 'A fish!' They drew up the\n    line and saw that it was a man they had caught. At sight of the god\n    they bounded to the other end of their bark, and were half dead with\n    fear. Ruahatu asked them, 'What is this?' The two fishermen replied,\n    'We came to fish, and we did not know that our hooks would catch\n    thee.' The god then said, 'Unfasten my hair;' and they did so. Then\n    Ruahatu asked, 'What are your names?' They replied, 'Roo and\n    Teahoroa.' Ruahatu next said, 'Return to the shore, and tell men\n    that the earth will be covered with water, and all the world will\n    perish. To-morrow morning repair to the islet called Toa-marama; it\n    will be a place of safety for you and your children.'\n\n    \"Ruahatu caused the sea to cover the lands. All were covered, and\n    all men perished except Roo, Teahoroa, and their families.\"\n\nThis story, like all in this part of the world currently referred to the\nmemory of the Deluge, has assumed the childish character peculiar to\nPolynesian legends, and moreover, as M. Maury justly observes, it may be\nnaturally explained by the recollection of one of those tidal waves so\ncommon in Polynesia. The most essential feature of all traditions\nproperly called diluvian is wanting here. The island, observes M. Maury,\nhas no resemblance to the Ark.[68] It is true that one of the versions\nof the Tahitian legend states that the two fishermen repaired to\nToa-marama, not only with their families, but with a pig, a dog, and a\ncouple of fowls, which recalls the entry of the animals into the Ark. On\nthe other hand, some details of a similar story among the Fijis,\nespecially one in which, for many years after the event, canoes were\nkept ready in case of its repetition, far better fit a local phenomenon,\na tidal wave, than a universal deluge.\n\nHowever, if all these legends were exclusively related to local\ncatastrophes, it would be strange that they should appear and be almost\nsimilar in a certain number of localities at a great distance from each\nother, and only where the Polynesian race has taken root, or left\nindubitable traces of its passage;--this race, indigenous in the Malay\nArchipelago, not having migrated thence till about the fourth century of\nthe Christian era--_i.e._, at a time when, in consequence of the\ncommunication between India and a portion of Malaysia,[69] the\nFlood-tradition under its Indian form might well have entered in.\nWithout, therefore, deciding the question one way or other, we do not\nthink that that opinion can absolutely be condemned which finds in these\nPolynesian legends an echo of the tradition of the Deluge, much\nweakened, much changed, and more inextricably confused than anywhere\nelse with local disasters of recent date.\n\nThe result, then, of this long review authorizes us to affirm the story\nof the Deluge to be a universal tradition among all branches of the\nhuman race, with the one exception, however, of the black. Now a\nrecollection thus precise and concordant cannot be a myth voluntarily\ninvented. No religious or cosmogonic myth presents this character of\nuniversality. It must arise from the reminiscence of a real and terrible\nevent, so powerfully impressing the imagination of the first ancestors\nof our race, as never to have been forgotten by their descendants. This\ncataclysm must have occurred near the first cradle of mankind, and\nbefore the dispersion of the families from which the principal races\nwere to spring; for it would be at once improbable and uncritical to\nadmit that at as many different points of the globe as we should have to\nassume in order to explain the wide spread of these traditions--local\nphenomena so exactly alike should have occurred, their memory having\nassumed an identical form, and presenting circumstances that need not\nnecessarily have occurred to the mind in such cases.\n\nLet us observe, however, that probably the diluvian tradition is not\nprimitive but imported in America; that it undoubtedly wears the aspect\nof an importation among the rare populations of the yellow race where it\nis found; and lastly, that it is doubtful among the Polynesians of\nOceania. There will still remain three great races to which it is\nundoubtedly peculiar, who have not borrowed it from each other, but\namong whom the tradition is primitive, and goes back to the most ancient\ntimes; and these three races are precisely the only ones of which the\nBible speaks as being descended from Noah, those of which it gives the\nethnic filiation in the tenth chapter of Genesis. This observation,\nwhich I hold to be undeniable, attaches a singularly historic and exact\nvalue to the tradition as recorded by the Sacred Book, even if, on the\nother hand, it may lead to giving it a more limited geographical and\nethnological significance. In another paper I propose to inquire\nwhether, in the conception of the inspired writers, the Deluge really\nwas universal, in the sense customarily supposed.\n\nBut as the case now stands, we do not hesitate to declare that, far from\nbeing a myth, the Biblical Deluge is a real and historical fact, having,\nto say the least, left its impress on the ancestors of three\nraces--Aryan or Indo-European, Semitic or Syro-Arabian, Chamitic or\nKushite--that is to say, on the three great civilized races of the\nancient world, those which constitute the higher humanity--before the\nancestors of those races had as yet separated, and in the part of Asia\nthey together inhabited.\n\n    FRANCOIS LENORMANT.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[31] The date of the termination of the works undertaken by Yu, in order\nto repair the damage done by this flood, lies between 2278 and 2062 B.C.\naccording to the chronological system adopted.\n\n[32] This work of Berosus was already out of existence in the fourth\ncentury of our era, when Eusebius of Cesarea, to whom we owe such\nfragments as we possess, wrote. Only two abridgments remained, due to\nlater polygraphers, Abydenus and Alexander Polybistor. Eusebius gives\nthe version of each editor, the one I quote is that of Alexander.\n\n[33] Abydenus says, \"all that composed the scriptures.\"\n\n[34] He is provisionally called Izdhubar or Ghirdhubar, transcribing for\nwant of a more certain method, according to their phonetic value, the\ncharacters composing the ideographic spelling of his name.\n\n[35] The text is published in \"Cuneiform Inscriptions of Western Asia,\"\nvol. iv. pp. 50 and 51. The two principal translations hitherto given\nare those of George Smith and M. Oppert. The one we now offer contains a\nlarge share of personal work. We avail ourselves of the labours of our\nillustrious precursors, but believe that we have also added some\nimportant steps towards a precise understanding of the text.\n\n[36] Here several verses are wanting.\n\n[37] \"The water of the twilight at break of day,\" one of the\npersonifications of rain.\n\n[38] The god of thunder.\n\n[39] The god of war and death.\n\n[40] The Chaldeo-Assyrian Hercules.\n\n[41] The superior heaven of the fixed stars.\n\n[42] Vases of the measure called in Hebrew _Seah_. This relates to a\ndetail of the ritualistic prescriptions for sacrifice.\n\n[43] These metaphorical expressions appear to designate the rainbow.\n\n[44] The god of epidemics.\n\n[45] _Studien zur Kritik und Erklarung der Biblischen Urgeschichte_, p.\n150.\n\n[46] Oannes and Euahanes belong to an Accadian form: Ea-Khan, \"Ea the\nfish;\" Oes to the simple Ea, as the Aos of Damascus.\n\n[47] _Vendidad_, ii. 46.\n\n[48] Chapter vii.\n\n[49] See especially _Yesht_ viii., 13 _Vendidad_, xix. 135.\n\n[50] It is in virtue of this assimilation that Plutarch (De Solert anim.\n13) speaks of the dove sent out by Deucalion to see if the Deluge had\nceased, a circumstance mentioned by no other Greek mythographer.\n\n[51] \"Myvyrian Archaeology of Wales,\" vol. ii. p. 50, triad 13.\n\n[52] _Ibid._ p. 71, triad 97.\n\n[53] Vafthrudnismal, st. 29.\n\n[54] Hanwsch, _Slawischer Mythus_, p. 234.\n\n[55] \"Transactions of the Society of Biblical Archaeology,\" vol. iv. pp.\n1-19.\n\n[56] Personification of the primordial abyss.\n\n[57] Nevertheless, the Deluge holds an important place among the\ncosmogonic traditions--decidedly original in character--which Reguly has\nfound among the Voguls. We also hear of a diluvian story among the\nEulets or Kalmuks, where it seems to have come in with Buddhism.\n\n[58] We must, however, observe that Buddhist missionaries appear to have\nintroduced the diluvian tradition of Judea into China. Gutzlaff, \"On\nBuddhism in China,\" in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (1st\nseries, vol. xii. p. 78), affirms that he saw its principal episode\nrepresented in a very fine painting of a temple to the goddess\nKivan-yin.\n\n[59] Recently published, not recently collected. The date of Pedro de\nlos Rios shows this.\n\n[60] \"The Native Races of the Pacific States,\" vol. iii. p. 68.\n\n[61] By a singular alteration of the text it is said that the jaguars\n\"were devoured,\" instead of \"they devoured.\"\n\n[62] From the day of the year when the final cataclysm was supposed to\nhave occurred.\n\n[63] This designation of the year accords with the system of Mexican\ncycles, containing four groups of years, each named after some object or\nanimal.\n\n[64] \"Essai de commentaire des fragments de Berose,\" p. 283.\n\n[65] This name looks like a corruption of that of the Indian Manu\nVaivasvata.\n\n[66] Except in the Fiji Islands, where the Polynesians have been for\nsome time settled among the Melanians, and have only been destroyed by\nthese after having infused into the population an element sufficiently\nmarked to render the Fijis a mixed rather than a purely black race.\n\n[67] Gaussin: \"Du Dialecte de Tahiti et de la Langue polynesienne,\" p.\n235. See also Ellis's \"Polynesian Researches.\"\n\n[68] We may, however, observe that in the Iranian myth of Yima, which we\nhave reported above, a square enclosure (_vara_) miraculously preserved\nfrom the deluge, holds the place of the Biblical Ark and of the vessel\nof Chaldean tradition.\n\n[69] The date of the first establishment of Indian Brahmanists in Java\nremains uncertain, but from the end of the second century B.C. the Greek\nIambulos (Diod. Sicul. ii. 57) very exactly described as the way of\nwriting in this island the syllabic system Kavi, borrowed from India.\n\n\n\n\nSUSPENDED ANIMATION.\n\n\nSome time since an article appeared in the _Times_, quoted from the\n_Brisbane Courier_ (an Australian paper of good credit), stating that\none Signor Rotura had devised a plan by which animals might be congealed\nfor weeks or months without being actually deprived of life, so that\nthey might be shipped from Australia for English ports as dead meat, yet\non their arrival here be restored to full life and activity. Many\nregarded this account as intended to be received seriously, though a few\ndays later an article appeared, the opening words of which implied that\nonly persons from north of the Tweed should have taken the article _au\ngrand serieux_. Of course it was a hoax; but it is worthy of notice that\nthe editor of the _Brisbane Courier_ had really been misled, as he\nadmitted a few weeks later, with a candour which did him credit.[70]\n\nThis wonderful discovery, however, besides being worth publishing as a\njoke (though rather a mischievous one, as will presently be shown), did\ngood service also by eliciting from a distinguished physician certain\nstatements respecting the possibility of suspending animation, which\notherwise might have remained for some time unpublished. I propose here\nto consider these statements, and the strange possibilities which some\nof them seem to suggest. In the first place, however, it may be worth\nwhile to recall the chief statements in the clever Australian story, as\nsome of Dr. Richardson's statements refer specially to that narrative. I\nshall take the opportunity of indicating certain curious features of\nresemblance between the Australian story, which really had its origin in\nAmerica (I am assured that it was published a year earlier in a New York\npaper), and an American hoax which acquired a wide celebrity some forty\nyears ago, the so-called Lunar Hoax. As it is certain that the two\nstories came from different persons, the resemblance referred to seems\nto suggest that the special mental qualities (defects, _bien entendu_)\nwhich cause some to take delight in such inventions, are commonly\nassociated with a characteristic style of writing. If Buffon was right,\nindeed, in saying, _Le style c'est de l'homme meme_, we can readily\nunderstand that clever hoaxers should thus have a style peculiar to\nthemselves.\n\nIt can hardly be considered essential to the right comprehension of\nscientific experiments that a picturesque account should be given of the\nplace where the experiments were made. The history of the wonderful\nAustralian discovery opens nevertheless as follows:--\"Many of the\nreaders of the _Brisbane Courier_ who know Sydney Harbour will remember\nthe long inlet opposite the heads known as Middle Harbour, which, in a\nsuccession of land-locked reaches, stretches away like a chain of lakes\nfor over twenty miles. On one of these reaches, made more than\nordinarily picturesque by the bold headlands that drop almost sheer into\nthe water, stand, on about an acre of grassy flat, fringed by white\nbeach on which the clear waters of the harbour lap, two low brick\nbuildings. Here, in perfect seclusion, and with a careful avoidance of\npublicity, is being conducted an experiment, the success of which, now\nestablished beyond any doubt, must have a wider effect upon the future\nprosperity of Australia than any project ever contemplated.\" It was\nprecisely in this tone that the author of the \"Lunar Hoax\"[71] opened\nhis account of those \"recent discoveries in astronomy which will build\nan imperishable monument to the age in which we live, and confer upon\nthe present generation of the human race a proud distinction through all\nfuture time.\" \"It has been poetically said,\" he remarks--though probably\nhe would have found some difficulty in saying where or by whom this had\nbeen said,--\"that the stars of heaven are the hereditary regalia of man,\nas the intellectual sovereign of the animal creation; he may now fold\nthe zodiac around him with a loftier consciousness of his mental\nsupremacy\" (a sublime idea, irresistibly suggestive of the description\nwhich an American humourist gave of a certain actor's representation of\nthe death of Richard III., \"he wrapped the star-spangled banner round\nhim, and died like the son of a hoss\").\n\nIt next becomes necessary to describe the persons engaged in pursuing\nthe experiments by which the art of freezing animals alive is to be\nattained. \"The gentlemen engaged in this enterprise are Signor Rotura,\nwhose researches into the botany and natural history of South America\nhave rendered his name eminent; and Mr. James Grant, a pupil of the late\nMr. Nicolle, so long associated with Mr. Thomas Mort in his freezing\nprocess. Next to the late Mr. Nicolle, Mr. James Grant can claim\npre-eminence of knowledge in the science of generating cold, and his\nfreezing chamber at Woolhara has long been known as the seat of valuable\nexperiments originated in his, Mr. Nicolle's, lifetime.\" Is it merely an\naccident, by the way, or is it due to the circumstance that exceptional\npowers of invention in general matters are often found in company with\nsingular poverty of invention as to details, that two of the names here\nmentioned closely resemble names connected with the Lunar Hoax? It was\nNicollet who in reality devised the Lunar Hoax, though Richard Alton\nLocke, the reputed author, probably gave to the story its final form;\nand, again, the story purported to come from Dr. Grant, of Glasgow. In\nthe earlier narrative, again, as in the later, due care was taken to\nimpress readers with the belief that those who had made the discovery,\nor taken part in the work, were worthy of all confidence. Sir W.\nHerschel was the inventor of the optical device by which the inhabitants\nof the moon were to be rendered visible, a plan which \"evinced the most\nprofound research in optical science, and the most dexterous ingenuity\nin mechanical contrivance. But his son, Sir John Herschel, nursed and\ncradled in the observatory, and a practical astronomer from his boyhood,\ndetermined upon testing it at whatever cost.\" Among his companions he\nhad \"Dr. Andrew Grant, Lieutenant Drummond of the Royal Engineers, and a\nlarge party of the best English mechanics.\"\n\nThe accounts of preliminary researches, doubts, and difficulties are in\nboth cases very similar in tone. \"It appears that five months ago,\" says\nthe narrator of the Australian hoax, \"Signor Rotura called upon Mr.\nGrant to invoke his assistance in a scheme for the transmission of live\nstock to Europe. Signor Rotura averred that he had discovered a South\nAmerican vegetable poison, allied to the well-known _woolara_ (_sic_)\nthat had the power of perfectly suspending animation, and that the\ntrance thus produced continued until the application of another\nvegetable essence caused the blood to resume its circulation and the\nheart its functions. So perfect, moreover, was this suspension of life\nthat Signor Rotura had found in a warm climate decomposition set in at\nthe extremities after a week of this living death, and he imagined that\nif the body in this inert state were reduced to a temperature\nsufficiently low to arrest decomposition, the trance might be kept up\nfor months, possibly for years. He frankly owned that he had never tried\nthis preserving of the tissues by cold, and could not confidently speak\nas to its effect upon the after-restoration of the animal operated on.\nBefore he left Mr. Grant he had turned that gentleman's doubts into\nwondering curiosity by experimenting on his dog.\" The account of this\nexperiment I defer for a moment till I have shown how closely in several\nrespects this portion of the Australian hoax resembles the corresponding\npart of the American story. It will be observed that the great discovery\nis presented as simply a very surprising development of a process which\nis strictly within the limits, not only of what is possible, but of what\nis known. So also in the case of the Lunar Hoax, the amazing magnifying\npower by which living creatures in the moon were said to have been\nrendered visible, was presented as simply a very remarkable development\nof the familiar properties of the telescope. In both cases, the\ncircumstances which in reality limit the possible extension of the\nproperties in question were kept conveniently concealed from view. In\nboth cases, doubts and difficulties were urged with an apparent\nfrankness intended to disarm suspicion. In both cases, also, the\ninventor of the new method by which difficulties were to be overcome is\nrepresented as in conference with a man of nearly equal skill, who urges\nthe doubts naturally suggested by the wonderful nature of the promised\nachievements. In the Lunar Hoax, Sir John Herschel and Sir David\nBrewster are thus represented in conference. Herschel asks whether the\ndifficulty arising from deficient illumination may not be overcome by\neffecting a transfusion of artificial light through the focal image.\nBrewster, startled at the novel thought, as he well might be,\nhesitatingly refers \"to the refrangibility of rays and the angle of\nincidence,\" which is effective though glorious in its absurdity. (Yet it\nhas been gravely asserted that this nonsense deceived Arago.) \"Sir John,\ngrown more confident, adduced the example of the Newtonian reflector, in\nwhich the refrangibility was arrested by the second speculum and the\nangle of incidence restored by the third\" (a bewilderingly ridiculous\nstatement). \"'And,' continued he, 'why cannot the illuminated\nmicroscope, say the hydro-oxygen, be applied to render distinct, and if\nnecessary even to magnify, the focal object?' Sir David sprang from his\nchair in an ecstasy of conviction, and leaping half-way to the ceiling\"\n(from which we may infer that he was somewhat more than _tete montee_),\n\"exclaimed, 'Thou art the man!'\"\n\nThe method devised in each case being once accepted as sound, the rest\nof course readily follows. In the case of the Lunar Hoax a number of\ndiscoveries are made which need not here be described[72] (though I\nshall take occasion presently to quote some passages relating to them\nwhich closely resemble in style certain passages in the Australian\nnarrative). In the later hoax, the illustrative experiments are\nforthwith introduced. Signor Rotura, having so far persuaded Mr. Grant\nof the validity of the plan as to induce him to allow a favourite dog to\nbe experimented upon, \"injected two drops of his liquid, mixed with a\nlittle glycerine, into a small puncture made in the dog's ear. In three\nor four minutes the animal was perfectly rigid, the four legs stretched\nbackward, eyes wide open, pupils very much dilated, and exhibiting\nsymptoms very similar to those caused by strychnine, except that there\nhad been no previous struggle or pain. Begging his owner to have no\napprehension for the life of his favourite animal, Signor Rotura lifted\nthe dog carefully and placed him on a shelf in a cupboard, where he\nbegged he might be left till the following day, when he promised to call\nat ten o'clock and revive the apparently dead brute. Mr. Grant\ncontinually during that day and night visited the cupboard, and so\nperfectly was life suspended in his favourite--no motion of the pulse or\nheart giving any indication of the possibility of revival--that he\nconfesses he felt all the sharpest reproaches of remorse at having\nsacrificed a faithful friend to a doubtful and dangerous experiment. The\ntemperature of the body, too, in the first four hours gradually lowered\nto 25 degrees Fahrenheit below ordinary blood temperature, which\nincreased his fears as to the result; and by morning the body was as\ncold as in natural death. At ten o'clock next morning, according to\npromise, Signor Rotura presented himself, and laughing at Mr. Grant's\nfears, requested a tub of warm water to be brought. He tested this with\nthe thermometer at 32 degrees Fahrenheit\" (which, being the temperature\nof freezing water, can hardly be called warm), \"and in this laid the\ndog, head under.\" In reply to Mr. Grant's objections Signor Rotura\nassured him that, as animation must remain entirely suspended until the\nadministration of the antidote, no water could be drawn into the lungs,\nand that the immersion of the body was simply to bring it again to a\nblood-heat. After about ten minutes of this bath the body was taken out,\nand another liquid injected in a puncture made in the neck. \"Mr. Grant\ntells me,\" proceeds the veracious narrator, \"that the revival of Turk\nwas the most startling thing he ever witnessed; and having since seen\nthe experiment made upon a sheep, I can fully confirm his statement. The\ndog first showed the return of life in the eye\" (winking, doubtless, at\nthe joke), \"and after five and a half minutes he drew a long breath, and\nthe rigidity left his limbs. In a few minutes more he commenced gently\nwagging his tail, and then slowly got up, stretched himself, and trotted\noff as though nothing had happened.\" From this moment Mr. Grant had full\nfaith in Signor Rotura's discovery, and promised him all the assistance\nin his power. They next determined to try freezing the body. But the\nfirst two experiments were not encouraging. Mr. Grant fortunately did\nnot allow his favourite dog to be experimented upon further, so a\nstrange dog was put into the freezing room at Mr. Grant's works for four\ndays, after having in the first place had his animation suspended by\nSignor Rotura. Although this animal survived so far as to draw a long\nbreath, the vital energies appeared too exhausted for a complete rally,\nand the animal died. So also did the next two animals experimented on,\na cat and a dog. \"In the meantime, however, Dr. Barker had been taken\ninto their counsels, and at his suggestion respiration was encouraged,\nas in the case of persons drowned, by artificial compression and\nexpansion of the lungs. Dr. Barker was of opinion that, as the heart in\nevery case began to beat, it was a want of vital force to set the lungs\nin proper motion that caused death. The result showed his surmises to be\nentirely correct. A number of animals whose lives had been sealed up in\nthis artificial death have been kept in the freezing chamber from one to\nfive weeks, and it is found that though the shock to the system from\nthis freezing is very great, it is not increased by duration of time.\"\n\nI need not follow the hoaxer's account of the buildings erected for the\nfurther prosecution of these researches. One point, however, may be\nmentioned illustrating the resemblance to which I have already referred\nas existing between this Australian narrative and the Lunar Hoax. In\ndescribing the works erected at Middle Harbour, the Australian account\ncarefully notes that the necessary funds were provided by Mr.\nChristopher Newton, of Pitt Street. In like manner, in the Lunar Hoax we\nare told that the plate-glass required for the optical arrangement\ndevised by Sir J. Herschel was \"obtained, by consent be it observed,\nfrom the shop-window of M. Desanges, the jeweller to his ex-majesty\nCharles X., in High Street.\"\n\nNow comes the culminating experiment, the circumstances of which are the\nmore worthy of being carefully noted, because it is distinctly stated by\nDr. Richardson that none of the experiments described in this narrative,\napocryphal though they may really be, can be regarded as beyond the\nrange of scientific possibilities:--\"Arrived at the works in Middle\nHarbour, I was taken into the building that contains Mr. Grant's\napparatus for generating cold.... Attached to this is the freezing\nchamber, a small, dark room, about eight feet by ten. Here were fourteen\nsheep, four lambs, and three pigs, stacked on their sides in a heap,\n_alive_, which Mr. Grant told me had been in their present position for\nnineteen days, and were to remain there for another three months.\nSelecting one of the lambs, Signor Rotura put it on his shoulder, and\ncarried it outside into the other building, where a number of shallow\ncemented tanks were in the floor, having hot and cold water taps to each\ntank, with a thermometer hanging alongside. One of these tanks was\nquickly filled, and its temperature tested by the Signor, I meantime\nexamining with the greatest curiosity and wonder the nineteen-days-dead\nlamb. The days of miracles truly seem to have come back to us, and many\nof those stories discarded as absurdities seem to me less improbable\nthan this fact, witnessed by myself. There was the lamb, to all\nappearance dead, and as hard almost as a stone, the only difference\nperceptible to me between his condition and actual death being the\nabsence of dull glassiness about the eye, which still retained its\nbrilliant transparency. Indeed, this brilliancy of the eye, which is\nheightened by the enlargement of the pupil, is very striking, and lends\na rather weird appearance to the bodies. The lamb was gently dropped\ninto the warm bath, and was allowed to remain in it about twenty-three\nminutes, its head being raised above the water twice for the\nintroduction of the thermometer into its mouth, and then it was taken\nout and placed on its side on the floor, Signor Rotura quickly dividing\nthe wool on its neck, and inserting the sharp point of a small silver\nsyringe under the skin and injecting the antidote. This was a pale green\nliquid, and, as I believe, a decoction from the root of the\n_Astracharlis_, found in South America. The lamb was then turned on its\nback, Signor Rotura standing across it, gently compressing its ribs with\nhis knees and hands in such a manner as to imitate their natural\ndepression and expansion during breathing. In ten minutes the animal was\nstruggling to free itself, and when released skipped out through the\ndoor and went gambolling and bleating over the little garden in front.\nNothing has ever impressed me so entirely with a sense of the\nmarvellous. One is almost tempted to ask, in the presence of such a\ndiscovery, whether death itself may not ultimately be baffled by\nscientific investigation.\" In the Lunar Hoax there is a passage\nresembling in tone the lively account of the lamb's behaviour when\nreleased. Herds of agile creatures like antelopes were seen in the moon,\n\"abounding in the acclivitous glades of the woods.\" \"This beautiful\ncreature afforded us,\" says the narrator, \"the most exquisite amusement.\nThe mimicry of its movements upon our white-painted canvas was as\nfaithful and luminous as that of animals within a few yards of the\n_camera obscura_. Frequently, when attempting to put our fingers upon\nits beard, it would suddenly bound away, as if conscious of our earthly\nimpertinence; but then others would appear, whom we could not prevent\nnibbling the herbage, say or do to them what we would.\" And again, a\nlittle further on, \"We fairly laughed at the recognition of so familiar\nan acquaintance as a sheep in so distant a land--a good large sheep,\nwhich would not have disgraced the farms of Leicestershire or the\nshambles of Leadenhall Market; presently they appeared in great numbers,\nand on reducing the lenses we found them in flocks over a great part of\nthe valley. I need not say how desirous we were of finding shepherds to\nthese flocks, and even a man with blue apron and rolled-up sleeves would\nhave been a welcome sight to us, if not to the sheep; but they fed in\npeace, lords of their own pastures, without either protector or\ndestroyer in human shape.\"\n\nNot less amusing, though more gravely written, is the account of the\nbenefits likely to follow from the use of the wonderful process for\nfreezing animals alive. Cargoes of live sheep can be readily sent from\nAustralia to Europe. Any that cannot be restored to life will still be\ngood meat; while the rest can be turned to pasture or driven alive to\nmarket. With bullocks the case would not be quite so simple, because of\ntheir greater size and weight, which would render them more difficult\nto handle with safety. The carcass being rendered brittle by freezing,\nthey are so much the more liable to injury. \"It sounded odd to hear Mr.\nGrant and Signor Rotura laying stress upon the danger of breakage in a\nlong voyage.\" This one can readily imagine.\n\nSome of the remoter consequences of the discovery are touched on by the\nnarrator, though but lightly, as if he saw the necessity of keeping his\nwonders within reasonable limits. Signor Rotura, \"though he had never\nattempted his experiment on a human being,\" which was considerate on his\npart, \"had no doubt at all as to its perfect safety.\" He had requested\nSir Henry Parkes to allow him to operate on the next felon under capital\nsentence. This, by the way, was a compromising statement on our hoaxer's\npart. It requires very little acquaintance with our laws to know that no\none could allow a felon condemned to death to be experimented on in this\nor in any other manner. Such a man is condemned to die, and to die\nwithout any preliminary tortures, bodily or mental, other than those\ninseparable from the legally adopted method of bringing death about. He\ncan neither be allowed to remain alive after an experiment, and\nnecessarily free (because he has not been condemned to other punishment\nthan the death penalty), nor can he be first experimented upon and then\nhanged. So that that single sentence in the narrative should have shown\nevery one that it was a hoax, even if the inherent absurdity of many\nother parts of the story had not shown this very clearly. As to whether\na temporary suspension of the vital faculties would affect the longevity\nof the patient, Signor Rotura expressed himself somewhat doubtful; he\nbelieved, however, that the duration of life might in this way be\nprolonged for years. \"I was anxious,\" says the hoaxer, \"to know if a\nperiod of, say, five years of this inertness were submitted to, whether\nit would be so much cut out of one's life, or if it would be simply five\nyears of unconscious existence tacked on to one's sentient life. Signor\nRotura could give no positive answer, but he believes, as no change\ntakes place or can take place while this frozen trance continues, no\nconsumption, destruction, or reparation of tissue being possible, it\nwould be so many unvalued and profitless years added to a lifetime.\" Of\nsome of the strange ideas suggested by this conception I shall take\noccasion to speak further on; I must for the present turn, however, from\nthe consideration of this ingenious hoax to discuss the scientific\npossibilities which underlie the narrative, or at least some parts of\nthe narrative.\n\nIn the first place, it must be noticed that in the phenomena of\nhibernation we have what at a first view seems closely to resemble the\nresults of Signor Rotura's apocryphal experiments. As was remarked in\nthe _Times_, the idea underlying the Australian story is that the\nhibernation of animals can be artificially imitated and extended, so\nthat as certain animals lie in a state of torpor and insensibility\nthroughout the winter months, all animals also may perhaps be caused to\nlie in such a state for an indefinite length of time, if only a suitable\ndegree of cold is maintained, and some special contrivance adopted to\nprevent insensibility from passing into death. The phenomena of\nhibernation are indeed so surprising, when rightly understood, that\ninexperienced persons might well believe in almost any wonders resulting\nfrom the artificial production (which, be it remembered, is altogether\npossible) of the hibernating condition, and the artificial extension of\nthis condition to other animals than those which at present hibernate,\nand to long periods of time. It has been justly said, that if\nhibernation had only been noticed among cold-blooded animals, its\npossibility in the case of mammals would have seemed inconceivable. The\nfirst news that the bat and hedgehog pass into the state of complete\nhibernation, would probably have bean received as either a daring hoax\nor a very gross blunder.\n\nLet us consider what hibernation really is. When, as winter approaches\nand their insect food disappears, the bat and the hedgehog resign\nthemselves to torpor, the processes which we are in the habit of\nassociating with vitality gradually diminish in activity. The breathing\nbecomes slower and slower, the heart beats more and more slowly, more\nand more feebly. At last the breathing ceases altogether. The\ncirculation does not wholly cease, however. So far as is known, the life\nof warm-blooded animals cannot continue after the circulation has\nentirely ceased for more than a certain not very considerable length of\ntime.[73] The chemical changes on which animal heat depends, and without\nwhich there can be no active vitality, cease with the cessation of\nrespiration. But dormant vitality is still maintained in hibernation,\nbecause the heart's fibre, excited to contract by the carbonized blood,\ncontinues to propel the blood through the torpid body. This slow\ncirculation of venous blood continues during the whole period of\nhibernation. It is the only vital process which can be recognised; and\nit is not easy to understand how the life of any warm-blooded animal can\nbe maintained in this way. The explanation usually offered is that the\nmaterial conveyed by the absorbents suffices to counterbalance the\nprocess of waste occasioned by the slow circulation. But this does not\nin reality touch the chief difficulty presented by the phenomena of\nhibernation. So far as mere waste is concerned (as I have elsewhere\npointed out) the imagined Australian process is as effectual as\nhibernation; in that process, of course the circulation would be as\ncompletely checked as the respiration; thus there would be no waste, and\nthe absorbents (which would also be absolutely dormant) would not have\nto do even that slight amount of work which they accomplish during\nhibernation. Science can only say that the known cases of hibernation\namong warm-blooded animals show that the vital forces may be reduced\nmuch lower without destroying life, than but for them we should have\ndeemed conceivable.\n\nBut next let us consider what science has to say as to the artificial\nsuspension of vitality. In Dr. Richardson's paper on this subject there\nis much which seems almost as surprising as anything in the Australian\nstory. Indeed, he seems scarcely to have felt assured that that story\nreally was a hoax. \"The statements,\" he says, \"which, under the head of\n'A Wonderful Discovery,' are copied from the _Brisbane Courier_, seem\ngreatly to have astonished the reading public. To what extent the\nstatements are true or untrue it is impossible to say. The whole may be\na cleverly-written fiction, and certain of the words and names used\nseem, according to some readers, to suggest that view; but be this so or\nnot, I wish to indicate that some part at all events of what is stated\nmight be true, and is certainly within the range of possibility.\" \"The\ndiscovery,\" he proceeds, \"which is described in the communication under\nnotice, is not in principle new; on the subject of suspension of\nanimation I have myself been making experimental inquiries for\ntwenty-five years at least, and have communicated to the scientific\nworld many essays, lectures, and demonstrations, relating to it. I have\ntwice read papers bearing on this inquiry to the Royal Society, once to\nthe British Association for the Advancement of Science, two or three\ntimes in my lectures on Experimental and Practical Medicine, and\npublished one in _Nature_. In respect to the particular point of the\npreservation of animal bodies for food, I dwelt on this topic in the\nlectures delivered before the Society of Arts, in April and May of last\nyear (1878), explaining very definitely that the course of research in\nthe direction of preservation must ultimately lead to a process by which\nwe should keep the structures of animals in a form of suspended\nmolecular life.\" In other words, Dr. Richardson had indicated the\npossibility of doing precisely that which would have constituted the\nchief value of the Australian discovery, if this had been real.\n\nLet us next consider what is known respecting the possibility of\nsuspending a conscious and active life. This is first stated in general\nterms by Dr. Richardson, as follows:--\"If an animal perfectly free from\ndisease be subjected to the action of some chemical agents or physical\nagencies which have the property of reducing to the extremest limit the\nmotor forces of the body, the muscular irritability, and the nervous\nstimulus to muscular action, and if the suspension of the muscular\nirritability and of the nervous excitation be made at once and equally,\nthe body even of a warm-blooded animal may be brought down to a\ncondition so closely resembling death, that the most careful examination\nmay fail to detect any signs of life.\" This general statement must be\ncarefully studied if the reader desires thoroughly to understand at once\nthe power and the limits of the power of science in this direction. The\nmotor forces, the muscular irritability, and the nervous stimulus to\nmuscular action, can be reduced to a certain extent without destroying\nlife, but not absolutely without destroying life. The reduction of the\nmuscular irritability must be made at once and equally; if the muscular\nirritability is reduced to its lowest limit while the nervous\nexcitation remains unaltered, or is less reduced, death ensues; and\n_vice versa_, if the nervous excitation is reduced to its lowest limits\nwhile the muscular irritability remains unaltered, or is little reduced,\ndeath equally follows. Then it is to be noticed that though when the\nstate of seeming death is brought about, the most careful examination\nmay fail to detect any signs of life, it does not follow that science\nmay not find perfectly sure means of detecting cases where life still\nexists but is at its very lowest. Of course all the ordinary tests, in\nwhich so many place complete reliance--a mirror placed close to the\nmouth, a finger on the pulse, hand, or ear applied to the breast[74]\nover the heart, and so forth--would be utterly inadequate, in such a\ncase, to reveal any signs of life. That doctors have been deceived by\ncases of suspended vitality not artificially produced, but presenting\nsimilar phenomena, is well known. A case in point may not be out of\nplace here, as illustrating well certain features of suspended\nanimation, and showing the possibility that in _some_ cases\nconsciousness may remain, even when the most careful examination detects\nno traces of life. The case is described by Dr. Alexander Crichton, in\nhis \"Inquiry into the Nature and Origin of Mental Derangement.\" \"A young\nlady, who had seemed gradually to sink until she died, had been placed\nin her coffin, careful scrutiny revealing no signs of vitality. On the\nday appointed for her funeral, several hymns were sung before her door.\nShe was conscious of all that happened around her, and heard her friends\nlamenting her death. She felt them put on the dead-clothes, and lay her\nin the coffin, which produced an indescribable mental anxiety. She tried\nto cry, but her mind was without power, and could not act on the body.\nIt was equally impossible to her to stretch out her arms or to open her\neyes or to cry, although she continually endeavoured to do so. The\ninternal anguish of her mind was, however, at its utmost height when the\nfuneral hymns began to be sung and when the lid of the coffin was about\nto be nailed on. The thought that she was to be buried alive was the\nfirst one which gave activity to her mind, and caused it to operate on\nher corporeal frame. Just as the people were about to nail on the lid,\na kind of perspiration was observed to appear on the surface of the\nbody. It grew greater every moment, and at last a kind of convulsive\nmotion was observed in the hands and feet of the corpse. A few minutes\nafter, during which fresh signs of returning life appeared, she at once\nopened her eyes, and uttered a most pitiable shriek.\" In this case it\nwas considered that the state of trance had been brought about by the\nexcessive contractile action of the nervous centres. St. Augustine, by\nthe way, remarks in his \"De Civitate Dei\" on the case of a certain\npriest called Restitutus (appropriately enough), who could when he\nwished withdraw himself from life in such sort that he did not feel when\ntwitched or stung, but might even be burned without suffering pain\nexcept afterwards from the wound so produced. Not only did he not\nstruggle or even move, but like a dead person he did not breathe, yet\nafterwards he said that he could hear the voices of those around him (if\nthey spoke loudly) as if from a great distance (_de longinquo_).\n\nTo return, however, to Dr. Richardson's discussion of the artificial\nsuspension of active life.\n\nHe recognises three degrees of muscular irritability, to which he has\ngiven the names of active efficient, passive efficient, and\nnegative,--though doubtless he would recognize the probability that the\nline separating the first from the second may not always be easily\ntraced, and that, though there is a most definite distinction between\nthe second and the third, the actual position of the boundary line has\nnot as yet been determined. In other words, so far as the first and\nsecond states are concerned, there are not two degrees only, but many.\nAs regards the third or negative state, which is only another way of\ndescribing death, there is, of course, only one degree, though the\nevidence as to the existence of this state may be more or less complete\nand obvious. Dr. Richardson defines the active efficient state of\nmuscular irritability as that \"represented in the ordinary living muscle\nin which the heart is working at full tension, and all parts of the body\nare thoroughly supplied with blood, with perfection of consciousness in\nwaking hours, and, in a word, full life.\" The second, or passive\nefficient state, \"is represented in suspended animation, in which the\nheart is working regularly but at low tension, supplying the muscles and\nother parts with sufficient blood to maintain the molecular life, but no\nmore.\" The third of these states--the negative--\"is represented when\nthere is no motion whatever of blood through the body, as in an animal\nentirely frozen.\"\n\nWith the first and third of these states I have in reality nothing to\ndo, unless indeed it could be shown that the third or negative state can\nbe produced without causing death. Perhaps in assuming, as I did above,\nthat this state is identical with the state of the dead, I was, in fact,\nassuming what science has yet to demonstrate. I may at any rate,\nhowever, say without fear of valid contradiction, that science has as\nyet never succeeded in showing that this negative state may be attained\neven for a moment without death ensuing; and the probability (almost\namounting to certainty) is that death and this change of state have in\nevery instance been simultaneous. Dr. Richardson speaks of the second\nstage as that in which animation is _usually_ suspended; but he does not\nshow that the third stage can even possibly be attained without death.\n\nThe second stage, or stage of passive efficiency, closely resembles the\nthird, \"but differs from it in that, under favouring circumstances, the\nwhole of the phenomena of the active efficient stage may be perfectly\nresumed, the heart suddenly enlarging in volume from its filling with\nblood, and reanimating the whole organism by the force of its renewed\nstroke in full tension. So far as we have yet proceeded,\" continues Dr.\nRichardson, \"the whole phenomena of restoration from death are\naccomplished during this stage;\" meaning, it would seem, that in all\ninstances of restoration the restoration has been from the second, never\nfrom the third stage. \"To those who are not accustomed to see them they\nare no doubt very wonderful, looking like veritable restorations from\ndeath. They surprise even medical men the first time they are witnessed\nby them.\" He gives an interesting illustration. At a meeting of the\nBritish Medical Association at Leeds, \"a member of the Association was\nshowing to a large audience the action of nitrous oxide gas, using a\nrabbit as the subject of his demonstration. The animal was removed from\nthe narcotizing chamber a little too late, for it had ceased to breathe,\nand it was placed on the table to all appearance dead.\" \"At this stage,\"\nhe proceeds, \"I went to the table, and by use of a small pair of\ndouble-acting bellows restored respiration. In about four minutes there\nwas revival of active irritability in the abdominal muscles, and two\nminutes later the animal leaped again into life, as if it had merely\nbeen asleep. There was nothing remarkable in the fact; but it excited,\neven in so cultivated an audience as was then present, the liveliest\nsurprise.\"\n\nBut when we learn the condition necessary that a body which has once\nbeen reduced to the state of passive efficiency should be restored to\nactive life, we recognise that even when science has learned how to\nreduce vitality to a minimum without destroying it, few will care to\nrisk the process, either in their own persons or in the case of those\ndear to them. Besides the condition already indicated, that the muscular\nirritability and the nervous excitation must be simultaneously and\nequally reduced, it is essential that the blood, the muscular fluid, and\nthe nervous fluid should all three remain in what Dr. Richardson calls\nthe aqueous condition, and not become what he calls pectous, a word\nwhich we must understand to bear the same relation to the word solid or\ncrystalline that the word \"aqueous,\" as used by Dr. Richardson, bears to\nthe word watery. If all three fluids remain in the aqueous condition,\n\"the period during which life may be restored is left undefined. It may\nbe a very long period, including weeks, and possibly months, granting\nthat decomposition of the tissues is not established; and even after a\nlimited process of decomposition, there may be renewal of life in\ncold-blooded animals. But if pectous change begins in any one of the\nstructures I have named, it extends like a crystallization quickly\nthrough all the structures, and thereupon recovery is impossible, for\nthe change in one of the parts is sufficient to prevent the restoration\nof all. Thus the heart may be beating, but the blood being pectous it\nbeats in vain; or the heart may beat and the blood may flow, but the\nvoluntary muscles being pectous the circulating action is vain; or the\nheart may beat, the blood may flow, and the muscles may remain in the\naqueous condition, but the nerves being pectous the circulating action\nis in vain; or sometimes the heart may come to rest, and the other parts\nmay remain susceptible, but the motion of the heart and blood not being\npresent to quicken them into activity, their life is in vain.\" Add to\nthis, that the restoration of the motor forces, of the muscular\nirritability, and of the nervous excitation, must be as simultaneous and\nas equal as their reduction had been, and we begin to recognise decided\nobjections to the too frequent suspension of animation, even when the\nmost perfect artificial means have been devised for bringing about that\ninteresting result.\n\nAlthough, however, we may not feel encouraged to believe that many will\ncare to have experiments tried on themselves in this direction, we may\nstill examine with interest the results of experimental research and\nexperience. These agree in showing that there are means by which active\nlife may be suspended, while at the same time the aqueous condition of\nthe fluids mentioned above (the blood, the muscular fluid, and the\nnervous fluid, the two latter of which are for convenience called the\ncolloidal animal fluids, and are derived from the blood) is retained.\n\nThe first and in some respects the most efficient of these means is\ncold. The blood and the colloidal fluids remain in the aqueous condition\nwhen the body is exposed to cold at freezing-point. \"At this same point\nall vital acts, excepting perhaps the motion of the heart\" (it is Dr.\nRichardson, be it remembered, who thus uses the significant word\n\"perhaps\"), \"may be temporarily arrested in an animal, and then some\nanimals may continue apparently dead for long intervals of time, and may\nyet return to life under conditions favourable to recovery.\" Dr.\nRichardson gives a singular illustration of this, describing an\nexperiment which must have appeared even more surprising to those who\nwitnessed it than that in which the rabbit was restored to life. \"In one\nof my lectures on death from cold,\" he says, \"which I delivered in the\nwinter session of 1867, some fish which during a hard frost had been\nfrozen in a tank at Newcastle-on-Tyne, were sent up to me by rail. They\nwere produced in the completely frozen state at the lecture, and by\ncareful thawing many of them were restored to perfect life. At my\nCroomian lecture on muscular irritability after systemic death, a\nsimilar fact was illustrated from frogs.\" It would appear, indeed, that\nso far as cold-blooded animals are concerned, there is no recognisable\nlimit to the time during which they may remain thus frozen yet\nafterwards recover. But, even in their case, much skill is required to\nmake the recovery sure. \"If in thawing them the utmost care is not taken\nto thaw gradually, and at a temperature always below the natural\ntemperature of the living animal, the fluids will pass from the frozen\nstate through the aqueous into the pectous so rapidly that death from\npectous change will be pronounced without perceiving any intermediate or\nlife stage at all.\" Naturally it is much more difficult to restore life\nin the case of warm-blooded animals. Indeed, Dr. Richardson remarks,\nthat in the case of the more complex and differently shielded organs of\nwarm-blooded animals, it is next to impossible to thaw equally and\nsimultaneously all the colloidal fluids. \"In very young animals it can\nbe done. Young kittens, a day or two old, that have been drowned in\nice-cold water, will recover after two hours' immersion almost to a\ncertainty, if brought into dry air at a temperature of 98 degrees\nFahrenheit. The gentlest motion of the body will be sufficient to\nre-start the respiration, and therewith the life.\"\n\nRemarking on such cases as these, Dr. Richardson notes that the nearest\nnatural approach to the stage of passive efficiency is seen in\nhibernating animals. He states, however, that in hibernation the\ncomplete state of passive efficiency is not produced. He does not accept\nthe opinion of those who consider that in true hibernation breathing\nceases as above described. A slow respiration continues, he believes, as\nwell as that low stage of active efficiency of circulation which we have\nalready indicated. \"The hibernating animal sleeps only; and while\nsleeping it consumes or wastes; and if the cold be prolonged it may die\nfrom waking.\" More decisive, because surer, is the evidence derived from\nthe possibility of waking the hibernating animals by the common methods\nused for waking a sleeper. This certainly seems to show that animation\nis not positively suspended.\n\nHe asks next the question whether an animal like a fish, frozen equally\nthrough all its structures, is to be regarded as actually dead in the\nstrict sense of the word or not, seeing that if it be uniformly and\nequally thawed it may recover from this perfectly frozen state. \"In like\nmanner,\" he says, \"it may be doubted whether a healthy warm-blooded\nanimal suddenly and equally frozen through all its parts is dead,\nalthough it is not recoverable.\" If, as seems certainly to be the case,\nthe animal dies because in the very act of trying to restore it some\ninequality in the process is almost sure to determine a fatal issue,\nsome vital centre passing into the pectous state, the animal could not\nhave been dead before restoration was attempted; for the dead cannot die\nagain. Albeit, the outlook is not encouraging, at any rate so far as the\nuse of cold alone for maintaining suspended animation in full-grown\nwarm-blooded animals is concerned. Cold will, however, for a long time\nmaintain ready for motion active organs locally subject to it Even after\ndeath this effect of cold \"may be locally demonstrated,\" Dr. Richardson\ntells us, \"and has sometimes been so demonstrated to the wonder of the\nworld.\" \"For instance, on January 17, in the year 1803, Aldini, the\nnephew of Galvani, created the greatest astonishment in London by a\nseries of experiments which he conducted on a malefactor, twenty-six\nyears old, named John Forster, who was executed at Newgate, and whose\nbody, an hour after execution, was delivered over to Mr. Keate, Master\nof the College of Surgeons, for research. The body had been exposed for\nan hour to an atmosphere two degrees below freezing-point,[75] and from\nthat cause, though Aldini does not seem to have recognised the fact, the\nvoluntary muscles retained their irritability to such a degree that when\nAldini began to pass voltaic currents through the body, some of the\nbystanders seem to have concluded that the unfortunate malefactor had\ncome again to life. It is significant also that Aldini in his report\nsays that his object was not to produce reanimation, but to obtain a\npractical knowledge how far galvanism might be employed as an auxiliary\nto revive persons who were accidentally suffocated, _as though he\nhimself were in some doubt_,\"--that is, not in doubt only about the\npower of galvanism, but in doubt whether Forster had been restored to\nlife for a while, or not! Dr. Richardson has himself repeated, on lower\nanimals, these experiments of Aldini's, except that the animals on which\nhe has experimented have passed into death under chloroform, not through\nsuffocation. His object, in fact, was to determine the best treatment\nfor human beings who sink under chloroform and other anaesthetics. He\nfinds that in warm weather he fails to get the same results. Noticing\nthis, he says, \"I experimented at and below the freezing-point, and then\nfound that both by the electrical discharge, and by injection of water\nheated to 130 degrees\" (again this terrible inexactness of expression)\n\"into the muscles through the arteries, active muscular movements could\nbe produced in warm-blooded animals many hours after death. Thus, for\nlecture experiment, I have removed one muscle from the body of an animal\nthat had slept to death from chloroform, and putting the muscle in a\nglass tube surrounded with ice and salt, I have kept it for several days\nin a condition for its making a final muscular contraction, and, by\ngently thawing it, have made it, in the act of final contraction, do\nsome mechanical work, such as moving a long needle on the face of a\ndial, or discharging a pistol. In muscles so removed from the body and\npreserved ready for motion there is, however, only one final act. For\nas the blood and nervous supply are both cut off from it, there is\nnothing left in it but the reserved something that was fixed by the\ncold. But I do not see any reason why this should not be maintained in\nreservation for weeks or months, as easily as for days, in a fixed cold\natmosphere.\"\n\nCold being, however, obviously insufficient of itself for the suspension\nof active life in warm-blooded animals, at least if such life is\neventually to be restored, let us next consider some of the agencies\nwhich either alone or aided by cold may suspend without destroying life.\n\nThe first known of all such agencies was mandragora. Dioscorides\ndescribes a wine, called _morion_, which was made from the leaves and\nthe root of mandragora, and possessed properties resembling those of\nchloral hydrate. That it must have been an effective narcotic is shown\nby the circumstance that painful operations were performed on patients\nsubjected to its influence, without their suffering the least pain, or\neven feeling. The sleep thus produced lasted several hours. Dr.\nRichardson considers that the use of this agent was probably continued\nuntil the twelfth or thirteenth century. \"From the use of it doubtless\ncame,\" he says, \"the Shaksperian legend of Juliet.\" He strangely omits\nto notice that Shakspeare elsewhere speaks of this narcotic by name,\nwhere Iago says of Othello:\n\n            \"Not poppy, nor mandragora,\n    Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,\n    Shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet sleep\n    Which thou own'dst yesterday.\"\n\nProbably the use of mandragora as a narcotic may have continued much\nlater than the thirteenth century. In earlier times it was certainly\nused as opium is now used, not for medicinal purposes, but to produce\nfor a while an agreeable sensation of dreamy drowsiness. \"There were\nthose,\" says Dr. Richardson, in his interesting article on Narcotics in\nthe CONTEMPORARY REVIEW for July last, \"who drank of it for taste or\npleasure, and who were spoken of as 'mandragorites,' as we might speak\nof 'alcoholists' or 'chloralists.' They passed into the land of sleep\nand dream, and waking up in scare and alarm were the screaming mandrakes\nof an ancient civilization.\" He has himself made the \"morion\" of the\nancients, dispensing the prescription of Dioscorides and Pliny. \"The\nsame chemist, Mr. Hanbury,\" he says, \"who first put chloral into my\nhands for experiment, also procured for me the root of the true\nmandragora. From that root I made the morion, tested it on myself, tried\nits effects, and re-proved, after a lapse perhaps of four or five\ncenturies, that it had all the properties originally ascribed to it.\"\n\nThe \"deadly nightshade\" has similar properties. (In fact, morion was\noriginally made from the _Atropa belladonna_, not from its ally the\n_Atropa mandragora_.) In 1851, Dr. Richardson attended two children who\nwere poisoned for a time from eating the berries and chewing the leaves\nof the nightshade, which they had gathered near Richmond. They were\nbrought home insensible, he says, \"and they lay in a condition of\nsuspended life for seven hours, the greatest care being required to\ndetect either the respiration or the movements of the heart; they\nnevertheless recovered.\"\n\nWith the nitrite of amyl, Dr. Richardson has suspended the life of a\nfrog for nine days, yet the creature was then restored to full and\nvigorous life. He has shown also that the same power of suspension,\nthough in less degree, \"could be produced in warm-blooded animals, and\nthat the heart of a warm-blooded animal would contract for a period of\neighteen hours after apparent death.\" The action of nitrite of amyl\nseems to resemble that of cold. In the pleasing language of the doctors,\n\"it prevents the pectous change of colloidal matter, and so prevents\n_rigor mortis_, coagulation of blood, and solidification of nervous\ncentres and cords.\" So long as this change is prevented, active life can\nbe restored. But when in these experiments \"the pectous change occurred,\nall was over, and resolution into new forms of matter by putrefaction\nwas the result.\" From the analogy of some of the symptoms resulting from\nthe use of nitrite of amyl with the symptoms of catalepsy, Dr.\nRichardson has \"ventured to suggest that under some abnormal conditions\nthe human body itself, in its own chemistry, may produce an agent which\ncauses the suspended life observed during the cataleptic condition.\" The\nsuggestion has an interest apart from the question of the possibility of\nsafely suspending animation for considerable periods of time: it might\nbe possible to detect the nature of the agent thus produced by the\nchemistry of the human body (if the theory is correct), and thus to\nlearn how its power might be counteracted.\n\nChloral hydrate seems singularly efficient in producing the semblance of\ndeath,--so completely, indeed, as to deceive even the elect. Dr.\nRichardson states that at the meeting of the British Association at\nExeter, some pigeons which had been put to sleep by the needle injection\nof a large dose of chloral, \"fell into such complete resemblance of\ndeath that they passed for dead among an audience containing many\nphysiologists and other men of science. For my own part,\" he proceeds,\n\"I could detect no sign of life in them, and they were laid in one of\nthe out-offices of the museum of the infirmary as dead. In this\ncondition they were left late at night, but in the following morning\nthey were found alive, and as well as if nothing hurtful had happened to\nthem.\" Similar effects seem to be produced by the deadly poisons\ncyanogen gas and hydrocyanic acid, though in the following case,\nnarrated by Dr. Richardson, the animal experimented upon (not with the\nidea of eventually restoring it to life) belonged to a race so specially\ntenacious of life that some may consider only one of its proverbial nine\nlives to have been affected. In the laboratory of a large drug\nestablishment a cat, \"by request of its owner, was killed, as was\nassumed, instantaneously and painlessly by a large dose of Scheele's\nacid. The animal appeared to die without a pang, and, presenting every\nappearance of death, was laid in a sink to be removed on the next\nmorning. At night the animal was lying still in form of death in the\ntank beneath a tap. In the morning it was found alive and well, but with\nthe fur wet from the dropping of water from the tap.\" This fact was\ncommunicated to Dr. Richardson by an eminent chemist under whose direct\nobservation it occurred, in corroboration of an observation of his own\nsimilar in character.\n\nOur old friend alcohol (if friend it can be called) possesses the power\nof suspending active vitality without destroying life, or at any rate\nwithout depriving the muscles of their excitability. Dr. Richardson\nrecords the case of a drunken man who, while on the ice at the Welsh\nHarp lake, fell into the water through an opening in the ice, and was\nfor more than fifteen minutes completely immersed. He was extricated to\nall appearance dead, but under artificial respiration was restored to\nconsciousness, though he did not survive for many hours. On the whole,\nalcoholic suspension of life does not appear to be the best method\navailable. To test it, the patient must first get \"very, very drunk,\"\nand even then, like the soldiers in the old song, must go on drinking,\nlest the experiment should terminate simply in the fiasco of a drunken\nsleep.\n\nThe last agent for suspending life referred to by Dr. Richardson is pure\noxygen. But he has not yet obtained such information on the power of\noxygen in this respect as he hopes to do.\n\nSumming up the results of the various experiments made with narcotics\nand other agents for suspending life, Dr. Richardson remarks that much\nis already known in the world of science in respect to the suspension of\nanimal life by artificial means: \"cold as well as various chemical\nagents has this power, and it is worthy of note that cold, together with\nthe agents named, is antiseptic, as though whatever suspended living\naction, suspended also by some necessary and correlative influence the\nprocess of putrefactive change.\" He points out that if the news from\nBrisbane were reliable, it would be clear that what had been done had\nbeen effected by the combination of one of the chemical agents above\nnamed, or of a similar agent, with cold. The only question which would\nremain as of moment is, not whether a new principle has been developed,\nbut whether in matter of detail a new product has been discovered which,\nbetter than any of the agents we already possess, destroys and suspends\nanimation. \"In organic chemistry,\" he proceeds, \"there are, I doubt not,\nhundreds of substances which, like mandragora and nitrite of amyl, would\nsuspend the vital process, and it may be a new experimenter has met with\nsuch an agent. It is not incredible, indeed, that the Indian Fakirs\npossess a vegetable extract or essence which possesses the same power,\nand by means of which they perform their as yet unexplained feat of\nprolonged living burial.\" But he is careful to note the weak points of\nthe Australian story--viz., first, the statement that the method used is\na secret, \"for men of true science know no such word;\" secondly, that\nthe experimenter has himself to go to America to procure more supplies\nof his agents; and, thirdly, that he requires two agents, one of which\nis an antidote to the other. As respects this third point, he asks very\npertinently how an antidote can be absorbed and enter into the\ncirculation in a body practically dead.\n\nIt is, of course, now well known that the whole story was a hoax, and a\nmischievous one. Several Australian farmers travelled long distances to\nSydney to make inquiries about a method which promised such important\nresults, only to find that there was not a particle of truth in the\nstory.\n\n    RICHARD A. PROCTOR.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[70] Many fail to see a joke when it is gravely propounded in print, who\nwould at once recognise it as such, were it uttered verbally, with\nhowever serious a countenance. Possibly this is due to the necessary\nabsence in the printed account of the indications by which we recognise\nthat a speaker is jesting--as a certain expression of countenance, or a\ncertain intonation of voice, by which the grave utterer of a spoken jest\nconveys his real meaning. In a paper which recently appeared in the\n_Gentleman's Magazine_, Mr. Foster (Thomas of that ilk) propounded very\ngravely the theory that our Nursery Rhymes have in reality had their\norigin in Nature Myths. He explained, for instance, that the rhymes\nrelating to Little Jack Horner were originally descriptive of sunrise in\nwinter: Little Jack is the sun in winter, the Christmas pie is the\ncloud-covered sky; the thumb represents the sun's first ray piercing\nthrough the clouds; and Jack's rejoicing means the brightness of full\nsunlight. So also the rhymes beginning Hey Diddle Diddle are shown to be\nof deep and solemn import, all in manifest burlesque of some recent\nextravagant interpretations of certain ancient stories by Goldziher,\nSteinthal, and others. Yet this fun was seriously criticized by more\nthan half the critics, by some approvingly, by some otherwise.\n\n[71] For a full account of this clever hoax the reader is referred to my\n\"Myths and Marvels of Astronomy.\"\n\n[72] The most curious are given in the ninth essay of my work referred\nto in the preceding note.\n\n[73] Few probably are aware how long some animals may remain without\nbreathing and yet survive. Kittens and puppies have been brought to life\nafter being immersed in water for nearly three-quarters of an hour.\n\n[74] Objection has been taken to the italicized words in the following\npassage from \"No Thoroughfare\" (one of the parts certainly written by\nDickens and not by Wilkie Collins): \"The cry came up: 'His heart still\nbeats against mine. I warm him in my arms. I have cast off the rope, for\nthe ice melts under us, and the rope would separate me from him; but I\nam not afraid.' ... The cry came up, 'We are sinking lower, but his\nheart still beats against mine.' ... The cry came up, 'We are sinking\nstill, and we are deadly cold. _His heart no longer beats against mine._\nLet no one come down to add to our weight. Lower the rope only.' ... The\ncry came up with a deathly silence, 'Raise! softly!' ... She broke from\nthem all and sank over him on his litter, with both her loving hands\nupon _the heart that stood still_.\" It has been supposed that Dickens\nwilfully departed here from truth, in order to leave the impression on\nthe reader that Vendale was assuredly dead. That he wished to convey\nthis impression is obvious. He often showed similar care to remove, if\npossible, all hope from the anxious reader's mind (markedly so in his\nlatest and unfinished work, where nevertheless any one well acquainted\nwith Dickens's manner knows not only that Drood is alive, but that\ndisguised as Datchery he was to have watched Jasper to the end). But in\nreality, it has happened more than once that persons have been restored\nto life who have been found in snow-drifts not merely reduced to\ncomplete insensibility, but without any recognisable heart-beat. Dickens\nhad probably heard of such cases when in Switzerland.\n\n[75] Dr. Richardson will certainly excite the contempt of the northern\nprofessor who rebuked me recently for speaking of heat when I should\nhave said temperature. \"An atmosphere two degrees below freezing-point\"\nis an expression as inadmissible, if we must be punctilious in such\nmatters, as the expressions \"blood-heat,\" \"a heat of ten degrees,\" and\nso forth. Possibly, however, it is not desirable to be punctilious when\nthere is no possibility of being misunderstood, especially as it may be\nnoticed (the Edinburgh professor has often afforded striking\nillustrations of the fact by errors of his own) that too great an effort\nto be punctilious often results in very remarkable incorrectness of\nexpression.\n\n\n\n\nJOHN STUART MILL'S PHILOSOPHY TESTED.\n\nIV.--UTILITARIANISM.\n\n\nIn some respects Mill's Essays, published under the title\n\"Utilitarianism,\" are among his best writings. They have, in the first\nplace, the excellence of brevity. Ninety-six pages, printed in handsome\ntype, make but a light task for the student who wishes to enter into the\nintricacies of moral doctrine. Moreover, the last Essay consists of a\ndigression concerning the nature and origin of the idea of Justice, and\nit occupies nearly one-third of the whole book. Thus Mill managed to\ncompress his discussion of so important a subject as the foundations of\nMoral Right and Wrong into some sixty pleasant pages.\n\nAnd pleasant pages they certainly are, for they are written in Mill's\nvery best style. Now Mill, even when he is most prolix, when he is\npursuing the intricacies of the most involved points of logic and\nphilosophy, can seldom or never be charged with dulness and heaviness.\nHis language is too easy, polished, and apparently lucid. In these\nEssays on Utilitarianism, he reaches his own highest standard of style.\nThere is hardly any other book in the range of philosophy, so far as my\nreading has gone, which can be read with less effort. There is something\nenticing in the easy flow of sentences and ideas, and without apparent\ndifficulty the reader finds himself agreeably borne into the midst of\nthe most profound questions of ethical philosophy, questions which have\nbeen the battle-ground of the human intellect for two thousand five\nhundred years.\n\nPartly to this excellence of style, partly to Mill's immense reputation,\nacquired by other works and in other ways, must we attribute the\nimportance which has been generally attached to these ninety-six pages.\nProbably no other modern work of the same small typographical extent has\nbeen equally discussed, criticized, and admired, unless, indeed, it be\nthe Essay on Liberty of the same author. The result is, that Mill has\nbeen generally regarded as the latest and best expounder of the great\nUtilitarian Doctrine--that doctrine which is, by one and no doubt the\npreponderating school, regarded as the foundation of all moral and\nlegislative progress. Many there are who think that, what Hume and Paley\nand Jeremy Bentham began, Mill has carried nearly to perfection in these\nagreeable Essays.\n\nNothing can be more plain, too, than that Mill himself believed he was\ndutifully expounding the doctrines of his father, of his father's\nfriend, the great Bentham, and of the other unquestionable Utilitarians\namong whom he grew up. Mill seems to pride himself upon having been the\nfirst, not indeed to invent, but to bring into general acceptance the\nname of the school to which he supposed himself to belong. He says:[76]\n\"The author of this essay has reason for believing himself to be the\nfirst person who brought the word utilitarian into use. He did not\ninvent it, but adopted it from a passing expression in Mr. Galt's\n'Annals of the Parish.' After using it as a designation for several\nyears, he and others abandoned it from a growing dislike to anything\nresembling a badge or watchword of sectarian distinction. But as a name\nfor one single opinion, not a set of opinions--to denote the recognition\nof utility as a standard, not any particular way of applying it--the\nterm supplies a want in the language, and offers, in many cases, a\nconvenient mode of avoiding tiresome circumlocution.\"\n\nIn the Autobiography (p. 79), Mill makes a statement to the same effect,\nsaying--\n\n    \"I did not invent the word, but found it in one of Galt's novels,\n    the 'Annals of the Parish,' in which the Scotch clergyman, of whom\n    the book is a supposed autobiography, is represented as warning his\n    parishioners not to leave the Gospel and become utilitarians. With a\n    boy's fondness for a name and a banner I seized on the word, and for\n    some years called myself and others by it as a sectarian\n    appellation; and it came to be occasionally used by some others\n    holding the opinions it was intended to designate. As those opinions\n    attracted more notice, the term was repeated by strangers and\n    opponents, and got into rather common use just about the time when\n    those who had originally assumed it, laid down that along with other\n    sectarian characteristics.\"\n\nIt is pointed out, however, by Mr. Sidgwick in his article on\nBenthamism,[77] that Bentham himself suggested the name \"Utilitarian,\"\nin a letter to Dumont, as far back as June, 1802.\n\nMill explicitly states that it was his purpose in these Essays on\nUtilitarianism to expound a previously received doctrine of utility.\nTowards the close of his first chapter, containing General Remarks, he\nsays (p. 6): \"On the present occasion, I shall, without further\ndiscussion of the other theories, attempt to contribute something\ntowards the understanding and appreciation of the Utilitarian or\nHappiness theory, and towards such proof as it is susceptible of.\" He\nproceeds to explain that a preliminary condition of the rational\nacceptance or rejection of a doctrine is that its formula should be\ncorrectly understood. The very imperfect notion ordinarily formed of the\nUtilitarian formula was the chief obstacle which impeded its reception;\nthe main work to be done, therefore, by a Utilitarian writer was to\nclear the doctrine from the grosser misconceptions. Thus the question\nwould be greatly simplified, and a large proportion of its difficulties\nremoved. His Essays purport throughout to be a defence and exposition of\nthe Utilitarian doctrine.\n\nBut one characteristic of Mill's writings is that there is often a wide\ngulf between what he intends and what he achieves. There is even a want\nof security that what he is at any moment urging may not be the logical\ncontrary of what he thinks he is urging. This happens to be palpably the\ncase with the celebrated Essays before us. Mill explains and defends his\nfavourite doctrine with so much affection and so much candour that he\nfinally explains himself into the opposite doctrine. Yet with that\nsimplicity which is a pleasing feature of his personal character, Mill\ncontinues to regard himself as a Utilitarian long after he has left the\ngrounds of Paley and Bentham. Lines of logical distinction and questions\nof logical consistency are of little account to one who cannot\ndistinguish between fact and feeling, between sense and sentiment. It is\npossible that no small part of the favour with which these Essays have\nalways been received by the general public is due to the happy way in\nwhich Mill has combined the bitter and the sweet. The uncompromising\nrigidity of the Benthamist formulas is softened and toned down. An\napparently scientific treatment is combined with so many noble\nsentiments and high aspirations, that almost any one except a logician\nmay be disarmed.\n\nBut nothing can endure if it be not logical. These Essays may be very\nagreeable reading; they may make readers congratulate themselves on so\neasily becoming moral philosophers; but they cannot really advance moral\nscience if they represent one thing as being another thing. I make it my\nbusiness therefore in this article to show that Mill was intellectually\nunfitted to decide what was utilitarian and what was not. In removing\nthe obstacles to the reception of his favourite doctrine he removed its\nlandmarks too, and confused everything. It is true that I come rather\nlate in the day to show this. Some scores, if not hundreds, of critics\nhave shown the same fact more or less clearly. Eminent men of the most\ndifferent schools and tones of thought--such as the Rev. Dr. Martineau,\nMr. Sidgwick, Dr. Ward, Professor Birks, the late Professor Grote--have\ncriticized and refuted Mill time after time.\n\nSince commencing my analysis of Mill's Philosophy, I have been surprised\nto find, too, that some who were supposed to support Mill's school\nthrough thick and thin, have long since discovered the inconsistencies\nwhich I would now expose, at such wearisome length as if they were new\ndiscoveries. Such is the ground which my friend, Professor Croom\nRobertson, takes in his quarterly review, _Mind_, which must be\nconsidered our best authority on philosophical questions. As to this\nmatter of Utilitarianism, a very eminent author, formerly a friend of\nMill himself, assures me that the subject is quite threshed out, and\nimplies that there is no need for me to trouble the public any more\nabout it. In fact, it would seem to be allowed within philosophical\ncircles that Mill's works are often wrongheaded and unphilosophical. Yet\nthese works are supposed to have done so much good that obloquy attaches\nto any one who would seek to diminish the respect paid to them by the\npublic at large. Philosophers, and teachers of the last generation at\nleast, have done their best to give Mill's groundless philosophy a hold\nupon all the schools and all the press, and yet we of this generation\nare to wait calmly until this influence dissolves of its own accord. We\nare to do nothing to lessen the natural respect paid to the memory of\nthe dead, especially of the dead who have unquestionably laboured with\nsingle-minded purpose for what they considered the good of their\nfellow-creatures. But in nothing is it more true than in philosophy,\nthat \"the evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred\nwith their bones.\" Words and false arguments cannot be recalled. Throw a\nstone into the surface of the still sea, and you are powerless to\nprevent the circle of disturbance from spreading more and more widely.\nTrue it is, that one disturbance may be overcome and apparently\nobliterated by other deeper disturbances; but Mill's works and opinions\nwere disseminated by the immense former influence of the united band of\nBenthamist philosophers. He is criticized and discussed and repeated, in\nalmost every philosophical work of the last thirty or forty years. He is\ntaken throughout the world as the representative of British philosophy,\nand it is not sufficient for a few eminent thinkers in Oxford, or\nCambridge, or London, or Edinburgh, or Aberdeen, to acknowledge in a\ntacit sort of way that this doctrine and that doctrine is wrong.\nEventually, no doubt, the opinion of the Lecture Halls and Combination\nRooms will guide the public opinion; but it may take a generation for\ntacit opinions to permeate society. We must have them distinctly and\nboldly expressed. It is especially to be remembered that the public\npress throughout the English-speaking countries is mostly conducted by\nmen educated in the time when Mill's works were entirely predominant.\nThese men are now for the most part cut off, by geographical or\nprofessional obstacles, from the direct influence of Oxford or\nCambridge. The circle of disturbance has spread beyond the immediate\nreach of those centres of thought. To be brief, I do not believe that\nMill's immense philosophical influence, founded as it is on confusion of\nthought, will readily collapse. I fear that it may remain as a permanent\nobstacle in the way of sound thinking. _Citius emergit veritas ex\nerrore, quam ex confusione._ Had Mill simply erred as did Hobbes about\nelementary geometry, and Berkeley about infinitesimals, it would be\nnecessary merely to point out the errors and consign them to merciful\noblivion. But it is not so easy to consign to oblivion ponderous works\nso full of confusion of thought that every inexperienced and unwarned\nreader is sure to lose his way in them, and to take for profound\nphilosophy that which is really a kind of kaleidoscopic presentation of\nphilosophic ideas and phrases, in a succession of various but usually\ninconsistent combinations. To the public at large, Mill's works still\nundoubtedly remain as the standard of accurate thinking, and the most\nesteemed repertory of philosophy. I cannot therefore consider my\ncriticism superfluous, and at the risk of repeating much that has been\nsaid by the eminent critics already mentioned, or by others, I must show\nthat Mill has thrown ethical philosophy into confusion as far as could\nwell be done in ninety-six pages.\n\nThe nature of the Utilitarian doctrine is explained by Mill with\nsufficient accuracy in pp. 9 and 10, where he says--\n\n    \"The creed which accepts as the foundation of morals, Utility, or\n    the Greatest Happiness Principle, holds that actions are right in\n    proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to\n    produce the reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended pleasure,\n    and the absence of pain; by unhappiness, pain, and the privation of\n    pleasure. To give a clear view of the moral standard set up by the\n    theory, much more requires to be said; in particular, what things it\n    includes in the ideas of pain and pleasure; and to what extent this\n    is left an open question. But these supplementary explanations do\n    not affect the theory of life on which this theory of morality is\n    grounded--namely, that pleasure, and freedom from pain, are the only\n    things desirable as ends; and that all desirable things (which are\n    as numerous in the utilitarian as any other scheme) are desirable\n    either for the pleasure inherent in themselves, or as means to the\n    promotion of pleasure and the prevention of pain.\"\n\nMill proceeds to say that such a theory of life excites inveterate\ndislike in many minds, and among them some of the most estimable in\nfeeling and purpose. To hold forth no better end than pleasure is felt\nto be utterly mean and grovelling--a doctrine worthy only of swine. Mill\naccordingly proceeds to inquire whether there is anything really\ngrovelling in the doctrine--whether, on the contrary, we may not include\nunder pleasure, feelings and motives which are in the highest degree\nnoble and elevating. The whole inquiry turns upon this question--Do\npleasures differ in quality as well as in quantity? Can a small amount\nof pleasure of very elevated character outweigh a large amount of\npleasure of low quality? We should never think of estimating pictures by\ntheir size and number. The productions of West and Fuseli, which were\nthe wonder and admiration of our grandparents, can now be bought by the\nsquare yard, to cover the bare walls of eating-houses and music-halls.\n_Sic transit gloria mundi._ But a choice sketch by Turner sometimes\nsells for many pounds per square inch. It is clear, then, that in the\nopinion of connoisseurs, which must, for our present purpose, be\nconsidered final, high art is almost wholly a matter of quality. Two\ngreat pictures by West may be nearly twice as valuable as one; and two\nequally choice sketches by Turner are twice as good as one; but it would\nseem hardly possible in the present day for the disciple of \"high art\"\nto bring West and Turner into the same category of thought. I suppose\nthat even Turner will presently begin to wane before \"the higher\ncriticism.\"\n\nA corresponding difficulty lies at the very basis of the Utilitarian\ntheory of ethics. The tippler may esteem two pints of beer doubly as\nmuch as one; the hero may feel double satisfaction in saving two lives\ninstead of one; but who shall weigh the pleasure of a pint of beer\nagainst the pleasure of saving a fellow-creature's life.\n\nPaley, indeed, cut the Gordian knot of this difficulty in a summary\nmanner; he denied altogether that there is any difference between\npleasures, except in continuance and intensity. It must have required\nsome moral courage to write the paragraph to be next quoted; yet Paley,\nhowever much he may be said to have temporized and equivocated about\noaths and subscription to Articles, cannot be accused of want of\nexplicitness in this passage. There is a directness and clear-hitting of\nthe point in Paley's writings which always charms me.\n\n    \"In strictness, any condition may be denominated happy, in which the\n    amount or aggregate of pleasure exceeds that of pain; and the degree\n    of happiness depends upon the quantity of this excess. And the\n    greatest quantity of it ordinarily attainable in human life, is what\n    we mean by happiness, when we inquire or pronounce what human\n    happiness consists in. In which inquiry I will omit much usual\n    declamation on the dignity and capacity of our nature; the\n    superiority of the soul to the body, of the rational to the animal\n    part of our constitution; upon the worthiness, refinement, and\n    delicacy of some satisfactions, or the meanness, grossness, and\n    sensuality of others; because I hold that pleasures differ in\n    nothing, but in continuance and intensity: from a just computation\n    of which, confirmed by what we observe of the apparent cheerfulness,\n    tranquillity, and contentment, of men of different tastes, tempers,\n    stations, and pursuits, every question concerning human happiness\n    must receive its decision.\"[78]\n\nBentham, it need hardly be said, adopted the same idea as the basis of\nhis ethical and legislative theories. In his uncompromising style he\ntells us[79] that\n\n    \"Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign\n    masters, _pain_ and _pleasure_. It is for them alone to point out\n    what we ought to do, as well as to determine what we shall do. On\n    the one hand the standard of right and wrong, on the other the chain\n    of causes and effects, are fastened to their throne. They govern us\n    in all we do, in all we say, in all we think: every effort we can\n    make to throw off our subjection will serve but to demonstrate and\n    confirm it. In words a man may pretend to abjure their empire: but\n    in reality he will remain subject to it all the while. The\n    _principle of utility_ recognises this subjection, and assumes it\n    for the foundation of that system, the object of which is to rear\n    the fabric of felicity by the hands of reason and of law. Systems\n    which attempt to question it, deal in sounds instead of sense, in\n    caprice instead of reason, in darkness instead of light.\"\n\nElsewhere Bentham proceeds to show how we may estimate the _values_ of\npleasures and pains, meaning obviously by _values_ the quantities or\nforces. As these feelings are both the ends and the instruments of the\nmoralist and legislator, it especially behoves us to learn how to\nestimate these values aright, and Bentham tells us most distinctly.[80]\n\n    To a person, he says, considered _by himself_, the value of a\n    pleasure or pain considered _by itself_, will be greater or less,\n    according to the four following circumstances. 1. Its _intensity_.\n    2. Its _duration_. 3. Its _certainty_ or _uncertainty_. 4. Its\n    _propinquity_ or _remoteness_. But when the value of any pleasure or\n    pain is to be considered for the purpose of estimating the general\n    tendency of the act, we have to take into account also, 5. The\n    _fecundity_, or the chance it has of being followed by sensations of\n    the same kind, that is, pleasures, if it be a pleasure; pains, if it\n    be a pain. 6. Its _purity_, or the chance it has of _not_ being\n    followed by sensations of the _opposite_ kind: that is, pains, if it\n    be a pleasure; pleasures, if it be a pain. Finally, when we consider\n    the interests of a number of persons, we must also estimate a\n    pleasure or pain with reference to, 7. Its extent; that is the\n    number of persons to whom it extends, or who are affected by it.\n\nThus did Bentham clearly and explicitly lay the foundations of the moral\nand political sciences, and to impress these fundamental propositions on\nthe memory he framed the following curious mnemonic lines, which may be\nquoted for the sake of their quaintness:--\n\n    \"_Intense, long, certain, speedy, fruitful, pure_----\n    Such marks in pleasures and in pains endure.\n    Such pleasures seek, if private be thy end:\n    If it be public, wide let them _extend_.\n    Such _pains_ avoid, whichever be thy view:\n    If pains _must_ come, let them _extend_ to few.\"\n\nIn all that Bentham says about pleasure and pain, there is not a word\nabout the intrinsic superiority of one pleasure to another. He advocates\nour seeking _pure_ pleasures; but with him a pure pleasure was clearly\ndefined as one not likely to be followed by feelings of the opposite\nkind; the pleasure of opium-eating, for instance, would be called\nimpure, simply because it is likely to lead to bad health and consequent\npain; if not so followed by evil consequences, the pleasure would be as\npure as any other pleasure. With Bentham morality became, as it were, a\nquestion of the ledger and the balance-sheet; all feelings were reduced\nto the same denomination of value, and whenever we indulge in a little\nenjoyment, or endure a pain, the consequences in regard to subsequent\nenjoyment or suffering are to be inexorably scored for or against us, as\nthe case may be. Our conduct must be judged wise or foolish according\nas, in the long-run, we find a favourable \"hedonic\" balance-sheet.\n\nWhat Mill in his earlier life thought about these foundations of the\nutilitarian doctrine, and the elaborate structure reared therefrom by\nBentham, he has told us in his Autobiography, pp. 64 to 70. Subsequently\nMill revolted, as we all know, against the narrowness of the Benthamist\ncreed. While wishing to retain[81] the precision of expression, the\ndefiniteness of meaning, the contempt of declamatory phrases and vague\ngeneralities, which were so honourably characteristic both of Bentham\nand of his own father, James Mill, John Stuart decided to give a wider\nbasis and a more free and \"genial\" character to the utilitarian\nspeculations.\n\nLet us consider how Mill proceeded to give this \"genial\" character to\nthe utilitarian philosophy. It must be admitted, he says,[82] that\nutilitarian writers in general have placed the superiority of mental\nover bodily pleasures _chiefly_ in the greater permanency, safety,\nuncostliness, &c., of the former--that is, in their circumstantial\nadvantages rather than in their intrinsic nature. As regards Bentham, at\nleast, Mill might have omitted the word _chiefly_. But according to\nMill, there is no need why they should have taken such a ground.\n\n    \"They might have taken the other, and, as it may be called, higher\n    ground, with entire consistency. It is quite compatible with the\n    principle of utility to recognise the fact, that some _kinds_ of\n    pleasure are more desirable and more valuable than others. It would\n    be absurd, that while, in estimating all other things, quality is\n    considered as well as quantity, the estimation of pleasures should\n    be supposed to depend on quantity alone.\"\n\nThen Mill proceeds to point out, with all the persuasiveness of his best\nstyle, that there are higher feelings which we would not sacrifice for\nany quantity of a lower feeling. Few human creatures, he holds, would\nconsent to be changed into any of the lower animals for a promise of the\nfullest allowance of a beast's pleasures; no intelligent human being\nwould consent to be a fool, no instructed person would be an ignoramus,\nno person of feeling and conscience would be selfish and base, and so\nforth. Mill, in fact, treats us to a good deal of what Paley so\ncynically called the \"usual declamation,\" on the dignity and capacity of\nour nature, and the worthiness of some satisfactions compared with the\ngrossness and sensuality of others. It must be allowed that Mill has the\nbest of it, at least with the majority of readers. Paley is simply\nbrutal as to the way in which he depresses everything to the same level\nof apparent sensuality. Mill overflows with genial and noble\naspirations; he hardly deigns to count the lower pleasures as worth\nputting in the scale; it is better, he thinks, to be a human being\ndissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied\nthan a fool satisfied. If the pig or the fool is of a different opinion,\nit is because they only know their own side of the question. The other\nparty to the comparison knows both sides. In the pages which follow\nthere is much nobleness and elevation of thought. But where is the\nlogic? We are nothing if we are not logical. But does Mill, in the\nfervour of his revolt against the cold, narrow restraints of the\nBenthamist formulas, consider the consistency and stability of his\nposition? Let us examine in some detail the position to which he has\nbrought himself.\n\nIt is plain, in the first place, that pleasure is with Mill the ultimate\npurpose of existence; for the philosophy is that of utilitarianism, and\nMill distinctly assures us (Autobiography, p. 178) that he \"never\nceased to be a utilitarian.\" We must, of course, distinguish between the\npleasure of the individual and the pleasure of other individuals of the\nrace, between Egoistic and Universalistic Hedonism, as Mr. Sidgwick\ncalls these very different doctrines. But the happiness of the race is,\nof course, made up of the happiness of its units, so that unless most of\nthe individuals pursue a course ensuring happiness, the race cannot be\nhappy in the aggregate. Now, to acquire happiness the individual must,\nof course, select that line of conduct which is likely to--that is, will\nin the majority of cases--bring happiness. He must aim at something\nwhich is capable of being reached. Mill tells us (p. 18) that if by\nhappiness be meant a continuity of highly pleasurable excitement, it is\nevident enough that this is impossible to attain.\n\n    \"A state of exalted pleasure lasts only moments, or in some cases,\n    and with some intermissions, hours or days, and is the occasional\n    brilliant flash of enjoyment, not its permanent and steady flame. Of\n    this the philosophers who have taught that happiness is the end of\n    life were as fully aware as those who taunt them. The happiness\n    which they meant was not a life of rapture; but moments of such, in\n    an existence made up of few and transitory pains, many and various\n    pleasures, with a decided predominance of the actual over the\n    passive, and _having as the foundation of the whole, not to expect\n    more from life than it is capable of bestowing_.[83] A life thus\n    composed, to those who have been fortunate enough to obtain it, has\n    always appeared worthy of the name of happiness.\"\n\nThen Mill goes on to point out what he considers has been sufficient to\nsatisfy great numbers of mankind (p. 19):\n\n    \"The main constituents of a satisfied life appear to be two, either\n    of which by itself is often found sufficient for the purpose:\n    tranquillity, and excitement. With much tranquillity, many find that\n    they can be content with very little pleasure: with much excitement,\n    many can reconcile themselves to a considerable quantity of pain.\n    There is assuredly no inherent impossibility in enabling even the\n    mass of mankind to unite both.\"\n\nFrom these passages we must gather that at any rate the mass of mankind\nwill attain happiness if they are satisfied with these main\nconstituents, and we are especially told that the foundation of the\nwhole utilitarian philosophy (Mill does not specify the substantive to\nwhich the adjective _whole_ applies in the above quotation, but it must\nfrom the context be either \"utilitarian philosophy,\" \"search for\nhappiness,\" or some closely equivalent idea) is _not to expect from life\nmore than it is capable of bestowing_.\n\nThe question, then, may fairly arise whether upon a fair calculation of\nprobabilities they are not wise, upon Mill's own showing, who aim at\nmoderate achievements in life, so that in accomplishing these they may\ninsure a satisfied life. This seems the more reasonable, if, as Mill\nelsewhere tells us, the nobler feelings are very apt to be killed off by\nthe chilly realities of life.\n\n    \"Many,\" he says (p. 14), \"who begin with youthful enthusiasm for\n    everything noble, as they advance in years sink into indolence and\n    selfishness. But I do not believe that those who undergo this very\n    common change, voluntarily choose the lower description of pleasure\n    in preference to the higher, I believe that before they devote\n    themselves exclusively to the one, they have already become\n    incapable of the other. Capacity for the nobler feelings is in most\n    natures a very tender plant, easily killed, not only by hostile\n    influences, but by mere want of sustenance; and in the majority of\n    young persons it speedily dies away if the occupations to which\n    their position in life has devoted them, and the society into which\n    it has thrown them, are not favourable to keeping that higher\n    capacity in exercise. Men lose their high aspirations as they lose\n    their intellectual tastes, because they have not time or opportunity\n    for indulging them; and they addict themselves to inferior\n    pleasures, not because they deliberately prefer them, but because\n    they are either the only ones to which they have access, or the only\n    ones which they are any longer capable of enjoying. It may be\n    questioned whether any one who has remained equally susceptible to\n    both classes of pleasure, ever knowingly and calmly preferred the\n    lower; though many, in all ages, have broken down in an ineffectual\n    attempt to combine both.\"\n\nIt would seem, then, that for the mass of mankind there is small\nprospect indeed of achieving happiness through high aspirations. They\nwill not have time nor opportunity for indulging them. If they look for\nhappiness solely to such aspirations they must be disappointed, and\ncannot have a satisfied life; if they attempt to combine the higher and\nlower lives they are likely to \"break down in the ineffectual attempt.\"\nNow, I submit that, under these circumstances, it is folly, according to\nMill's scheme of morality, to aim high; it is equivalent to going into a\nlife-lottery, in which there are no doubt high prizes to be gained, but\nfew and far between. It is simply gambling with hedonic stakes;\npreferring a small chance of high enjoyment to comparative certainty of\nmoderate pleasures. Mill clearly admits this when he says (p. 14), \"It\nis indisputable that the being whose capacities of enjoyment are low has\nthe greatest chance of having them fully satisfied; and a highly endowed\nbeing will always feel that any happiness which he can look for, as the\nworld is constituted, is imperfect.\"\n\nAlthough, then, \"the foundation of the whole\" is not to expect from life\nmore than it is capable of bestowing, we are actually to prefer becoming\nhighly endowed, although we cannot expect life to satisfy the\ncorresponding aspirations. That is to say, although seeking for\nhappiness, we are to prefer the course in which we are approximately\ncertain of not obtaining it.\n\nBut Mill goes on to give some explanations. He says that the highly\nendowed being can learn to bear the imperfections of his happiness, \"if\nthey are at all bearable\" (p. 14). This is small comfort if they happen\nto be _not at all bearable_, an alternative which is not further pursued\nby Mill. And will not this intolerable fate be most likely to befall\nthose whose aspirations have been pitched most highly? But Mill goes on:\n\n    \"They (that is, the imperfections of life or happiness?) will not\n    make him envy the being who is indeed unconscious of the\n    imperfections, but only because he feels not at all the good which\n    those imperfections qualify. It is better to be a human being\n    dissatisfied, than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates\n    dissatisfied, than a fool satisfied. And if the fool, or the pig, is\n    of a different opinion, it is because they only know their own side\n    of the question. The other party to the comparison knows both\n    sides.\"\n\nConcerning this position of affairs the most apposite remark I can make\nis contained in the somewhat trite and vulgar saying, \"Where ignorance\nis bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.\" If Socrates is pretty sure to be\ndissatisfied, and yet, owing to his wisdom, cannot help wishing to be\nSocrates, he seems to have no chance of that individual happiness which\ndepends on being satisfied, and not expecting from life more than it is\ncapable of bestowing. The great majority of people who do not know what\nit is like to be Socrates, are surely to be congratulated that they can,\nwithout scruple or remorse, seek a prize of happiness which there is a\nfair prospect of securing. But Mill tells us that those who choose the\nlower life do so \"because they only know their own side of the question.\nThe other party to the comparison knows both sides.\" Then Mill\nintroduces a paragraph, already partially quoted, in which he allows\nthat men often do, _from infirmity of character_, make their selection\nfor the nearer good, though they know it to be the less valuable. Many\nwho begin with youthful enthusiasm for everything noble, sink in later\nyears into indolence and selfishness. The capacity for the nobler\nfeelings is easily killed, and men lose their high aspirations because\nthey have not time and opportunity for indulging them. I submit that,\n_from Mill's point of view_, these are all valid reasons why they should\n_not_ choose the higher life. We are considering here, not those who\nhave always been devoid of the nobler feelings, but those who have in\nearlier life been full of enthusiasm and high aspirations. If such men,\nwith few exceptions, decide eventually in favour of the lower life, they\nare parties who _do_ know both sides of the comparison, and deliberately\nchoose not to be Socrates, with the prospect of the very imperfect\nhappiness (probably involving short rations) which is incident to the\nlife of Socrates.\n\nMill, indeed, calmly assumes that the vote goes in his own and Socrates'\nfavour. He says (p. 15):\n\n    \"From this verdict of the only competent judges, I apprehend there\n    can be no appeal. On a question which is the best worth having of\n    two pleasures, or which of two modes of existence is the most\n    grateful to the feelings, apart from its moral attributes and from\n    its consequences, the judgment of those who are qualified by\n    knowledge of both, or, if they differ, that of the majority among\n    them, must be admitted as final. And there need be the less\n    hesitation to accept this judgment respecting the quality of\n    pleasures, since there is no other tribunal to be referred to, even\n    on the question of quantity. What means are there of determining\n    which is the acutest of two pains, or the intensest of two\n    pleasurable sensations, except the general suffrage of those who are\n    familiar with both?\"\n\nNow, were we dealing with a writer of average logical accuracy there\nwould be considerable presumption that when he adduces evidence and\nclaims a result in his own favour in this confident way, there would be\nsome ground for the claim. But my scrutiny of Mill's \"System of Logic\"\nhas taught me caution in admitting such presumptions in respect of his\nwritings, and here is a case in point. He claims that the suffrage of\nthe majority is in favour of Socrates' life, although he has admitted\nthat the vast majority of men somehow or other elect not to be Socrates.\nHe assumes, indeed, that this is because their aspirations have been\nfirst killed off by unfavourable circumstances; his only residuum of\nfact is contained in this somewhat hesitating conclusion already\nquoted:--\n\n    \"It may be questioned whether any one who has remained equally\n    susceptible to both classes of pleasures, ever knowingly and calmly\n    preferred the lower; though many, in all ages, have broken down in\n    an ineffectual attempt to combine both.\"\n\nAlthough, then, millions and millions are continually deciding against\nSocrates' life, for one reason or another (and many in all ages who make\nthe ineffectual attempt at a combination break down), Mill gratuitously\nassumes that they are none of them competent witnesses, because they\nmust have lost their higher feelings before they could have descended to\nthe lower level; then the comparatively few who do choose the higher\nlife and succeed in attaining it are adduced as giving a large majority,\nor even a unanimous vote in favour of their own choice. I submit that\nthis is a fallacy probably to be best classed as a _petitio principii_;\nMill entirely begs the question when he assumes that every witness\nagainst him is an incapacitated witness, because he must have lost his\ncapacity for the nobler feelings before he could have decided in favour\nof the lower.\n\nThe verdict which Mill takes in favour of his high-quality pleasures is\nentirely that of a packed jury. It is on a par with the verdict which\nwould be given by vegetarians in favour of a vegetable diet. No doubt,\nthose who call themselves vegetarians would almost unanimously say that\nit is the best and highest diet; but then, all those who have tried such\ndiet and found it impracticable have disappeared from the jury, together\nwith all those whose common sense, or scientific knowledge, or weak\nstate of health, or other circumstances, have prevented them from\nattempting the experiment. By the same method of decision, we might all\nbe required to get up at five o'clock in the morning and do four hours\nof head-work before breakfast, because the few hard-headed and\nhard-bodied individuals who do this sort of thing are unanimously of\nopinion that it is a healthly and profitable way of beginning the day.\n\nOf course, it will be understood that I am not denying the moral\nsuperiority of some pleasures and courses of life over others. I am only\nshowing that Mill's attempt to reconcile his ideas on the subject with\nthe Utilitarian theory hopelessly fails. The few pleasant pages in which\nhe makes this attempt (Utilitarianism, pp. 8-28), form, in fact, a most\nnotable piece of sophistical reasoning. Much of the interest of these\nundoubtedly interesting passages arises from the kaleidoscopic way in\nwhich the standing difficulties of ethical science are woven together,\nas if they were logically coherent in Mill's mode of presentation. The\nideas involved are as old as Plato and Aristotle. The high aspirations\ncorrespond to =to kalon= of Plato. The superior man who can judge both\nsides of the question is the =beltistos aner= of Aristotle. The\nUtilitarian doctrine is that of Epicurus. Now, Mill managed to persuade\nhimself that he could in twenty pages reconcile the controversies of\nages.\n\nNor is it to be supposed that Bentham, in making his analysis of the\nconditions of pleasure, overlooked the difference of high and low; he\ndid not overlook it at all--he analyzed it. A pleasure to be high must\nhave the marks of intensity, length, certainty, fruitfulness, and\npurity, or of some of these at least; and when we take Altruism into\naccount, the feelings must be of wide extent--that is, fruitful of\npleasure and devoid of evil to great numbers of people. It is a higher\npleasure to build a Free Library than to establish a new Race Course;\nnot because there is a _Free-Library-building emotion_, which is\nessentially better than a _Race-Course-establishing emotion_, each being\na simple unanalyzable feeling; but because we may, after the model of\ninquiry given by Bentham, resolve into its elements the effect of one\naction and the other upon the happiness of the community. Thus, we\nshould find that Mill proposed to give \"geniality\" to the Utilitarian\nphilosophy by throwing into confusion what it was the very merit of\nBentham to have distinguished and arranged scientifically. We must hold\nto the dry old Jeremy, if we are to have any chance of progress in\nEthics. Mill, at some \"crisis in his mental history,\" decided in favour\nof a genial instead of a logical and scientific Ethics, and the result\nis the mixture of sentiment and sophistry contained in the attractive\npages under review.\n\nIn order to treat adequately of Mill's ethical doctrines it would no\ndoubt be necessary to go on to other parts of the Essays, and to inquire\nhow he treats other moral elements, such as the Social or Altruistic\nFeelings. The existence of such feelings is admitted on p. 46, and,\nindeed, insisted on as a basis of powerful natural sentiment,\nconstituting the strength of the Utilitarian morality. But it would be\nan endless work to examine all phases of Mill's doctrines, and to show\nwhether or not they are logically consistent _inter se_. They are really\nnot worth the trouble. Just let us notice, however, how he treats the\nquestion whether moral feelings are innate or not. On this point Mill\ngives (p. 45) the following characteristic deliverance:--\"If, as is my\nown belief, the moral feelings are not innate, but acquired, they are\nnot for that reason the less natural. It is natural to man to speak, to\nreason, to build cities, to cultivate the ground, though these are\nacquired faculties. The moral feelings are not indeed a part of our\nnature, in the sense of being in any perceptible degree present in all\nof us; but this, unhappily, is a fact admitted by those who believe the\nmost strenuously in their transcendental origin. Like the other acquired\ncapacities above referred to, the moral faculty, if not a part of our\nnature, is a natural outgrowth from it; capable, like them, in a certain\nsmall degree, of springing up spontaneously; and susceptible of being\nbrought by cultivation to a high degree of development.\" If life were\nlong enough, I should like, with the assistance of the \"Methods of\nEthics,\" to analyze the ideas involved in this passage. I can merely\nsuggest the following questions:--If acquired capacities are equally\nnatural with those not acquired, what is the use of introducing a\ndistinction without a difference? If moral feelings can spring up\nspontaneously, even in the smallest degree, and then be developed by\n\"natural outgrowths,\" how do any of our feelings differ from natural\nones? What does Mill mean, at the top of the next page, by speaking of\n\"moral associations which are wholly of artificial creation?\" Are these\nalso not the less natural because they are of artificial creation? If\nnot, we should like to know how to draw the line between _acquired_ and\n_artificial_ capacities. How, again, are we to interpret the use of the\nword _natural_, on p. 50, where, speaking of the deeply-rooted\nconception which every individual even now has of himself as a social\nbeing, he says--\n\n    \"This feeling in most individuals is much inferior in strength to\n    their selfish feelings, and is often wanting altogether. But to\n    those who have it, it possesses all the characters of a natural\n    feeling. It does not present itself to their minds as a superstition\n    of education,\" &c.\n\nHere a natural feeling is contrasted to the product of education,\nalthough we were before told that acquired capacities, like speaking,\nbuilding, cultivating, were none the less natural. But I must candidly\nconfess that when Mill introduces the words _nature_ and _natural_, I am\ncompletely baffled. I give it up. I can no longer find any logical marks\nto assist me in tracking out his course of thought. The word _nature_\nmay be Mill's key to a profound philosophy; but I rather think it is the\nkey to many of his fallacies.\n\nI often amuse myself by trying to imagine what Bentham would have said\nof Benthamism expounded by Mill. Especially would it be interesting to\nhear Bentham on Mill's use of the word \"natural.\" No passage in which\nBentham analyzes the meaning of \"nature,\" or \"natural,\" occurs to me,\nbut the following is his treatment of the word \"unnatural,\" as employed\nin Ethics:--\n\n    \"Unnatural, when it means anything, means unfrequent: and there it\n    means something; although nothing to the present purpose. But here\n    it means no such thing: for the frequency of such acts is perhaps\n    the great complaint. It therefore means nothing; nothing, I mean,\n    which there is in the act itself. All it can serve to express is,\n    the disposition of the person who is talking of it: the disposition\n    he is in to be angry at the thoughts of it.\"[84]\n\nWould that the grand old man, as he still sits benignly pondering in his\nown proper bones and clothes, in the upper regions of a well-known\ninstitution, could be got to deliver himself in like style about\nfeelings which are _not the less natural because they are acquired_.\n\nBefore passing on, however, I must point out, in the extract from p. 45,\nthe characteristic habit which Mill has of _minimizing_ things which he\nis obliged to admit. Instead of denying straightforwardly that we have\nmoral feelings, he says they are not present in all of us in any\n\"perceptible degree.\" The moral faculty is capable of springing up\nspontaneously \"in a certain small degree.\" This will remind every reader\nof the way in which, in his \"Essays on Religion,\" instead of flatly\nadopting Atheism or Theism, which are clear logical negatives each of\nthe other, he concludes that though God is almost proved not to exist,\nHe may possibly exist, and we must \"imagine\" this chance to be as large\nas we can, though it belongs only \"to one of the lower degrees of\nprobability.\" Exactly the same manner of meeting a weighty question will\nbe discovered again in his demonstration of the non-existence of\nnecessary truths. I shall hope to examine carefully his treatment of\nthis important part of philosophy on a future occasion. We shall then\nfind, I believe, that his argument proves non-existence of such things\nas necessary truths, because those truths which cannot be explained on\nthe association principle are very few indeed. I beg pardon for\nintroducing an incongruous illustration, but Mill's manner of minimizing\nan all-important admission often irresistibly reminds me of the young\nwoman who, being taxed with having borne a child, replied that it was\nonly a very small one.\n\nSuch are the intricacies and wide extent of ethical questions, that it\nis not practicable to pursue the analysis of Mill's doctrine in at all a\nfull manner. We cannot detect the fallacious reasoning with the same\nprecision as in matters of geometric and logical science. This analysis\nis the less needful too, because, since Mill's Essays appeared, Moral\nPhilosophy has undergone a revolution. I do not so much allude to the\nreform effected by Mr. Sidgwick's \"Methods of Ethics,\" though that is a\ngreat one, introducing as it does a precision of thought and\nnomenclature which was previously wanting. I allude, of course, to the\nestablishment of the Spencerian Theory of Morals, which has made a new\nera in philosophy.[85] Mill has been singularly unfortunate from this\npoint of view. He might be defined as the last great philosophic writer\nconspicuous for his ignorance of the principles of evolution. He brought\nto confusion the philosophy of his master, Bentham; he ignored that\nwhich was partly to replace, partly to complete it.\n\nI am aware that, in her Introductory Notice to the Essays on Religion\n(p. viii.), Miss Helen Taylor apologizes for Mill having omitted any\nreferences to the works of Mr. Darwin and Sir Henry Maine \"in passages\nwhere there is coincidence of thought with those writers, or where\nsubjects are treated which they have since discussed in a manner to\nwhich the Author of these Essays would certainly have referred had their\nworks been published before these were written.\"[86] Here it is implied\nthat Mill anticipated the authors of the Evolution philosophy in some of\ntheir thoughts, and it is a most amiable and pardonable bias which leads\nMiss Taylor to find in the works of one so dear to her that which is not\nthere. The fact is that the whole tone of Mill's moral and political\nwritings is totally opposed to the teaching of Darwin and Spencer,\nTaylor and Maine. Mill's idea of human nature was that we came into the\nworld like lumps of soft clay, to be shaped by the accidents of life, or\nthe care of those who educate us. Austin insisted on the evidence which\nhistory and daily experience afford of \"the extraordinary pliability of\nhuman nature,\" and Mill borrowed the phrase from him.[87] No phrase\ncould better express the misapprehensions of human nature which, it is\nto be hoped, will cease for ever with the last generation of writers.\nHuman nature is one of the last things which can be called \"pliable.\"\nGranite rocks can be more easily moulded than the poor savages that hide\namong them. We are all of us full of deep springs of unconquerable\ncharacter, which education may in some degree soften or develop, but can\nneither create nor destroy. The mind can be shaped about as much as the\nbody; it may be starved into feebleness, or fed and exercised into\nvigour and fulness; but we start always with inherent hereditary powers\nof growth. The non-recognition of this fact is the great defect in the\nmoral system of Bentham. The great Jeremy was accustomed to make short\nwork with the things which he did not understand, and it is thus he\ndisposes of \"the pretended system\" of a moral sense:[88]\n\n    \"One man says he has a thing made on purpose to tell him what is\n    right and what is wrong, and that it is called a _moral sense_; and\n    then he goes to his work at his ease, and says such a thing is right\n    and such a thing is wrong--Why? because my moral sense tells me it\n    is.\"\n\nBentham then bluntly ignored the validity of innate feelings, but this\nomission, though a great defect, did not much diminish the value of his\nanalysis of the good and bad effects of actions. Mill discarded the\nadmirable Benthamist analysis, but failed to introduce the true\nEvolutionist principles; thus he falls between the two. It is to Herbert\nSpencer we must look for a more truthful philosophy of morals than was\npossible before his time.\n\nThe publication of the first part of his Principles of Morality, under\nthe title \"The Data of Ethics,\" gives us, in a definite form, and in his\nform, what we could previously only infer from the general course of his\nphilosophy and from his brief letter on Utilitarianism addressed to\nMill. Although but fragments, these writings enable us to see that a\ndefinite step has been made in a matter debated since the dawn of\nintellect. The moral sense doctrine, so rudely treated by Bentham, is no\nlonger incapable of reconciliation with the greatest happiness\nprinciple, only it now becomes a moving and developable moral sense. An\nabsolute and unalterable moral standard was opposed to the palpable fact\nthat customs and feelings differ widely, and Paley, on this ground, was\ninduced to reject it. Now we perceive that we all have a moral sense;\nbut the moral sense of one individual, and still more of one race, may\ndiffer from that of another individual or race. Each is more or less\nfitted to its circumstances, and the best is ascertained by _eventual\nsuccess_.\n\nAt the tail end of an article it is, of course, impossible to discuss\nthe grounds or results of the Spencerian philosophy. To me it presents\nitself, in its main features, as unquestionably true; indeed, it is\nalready difficult to look back and imagine how philosophers could have\ndenied of the human mind and actions what is so obviously true of the\nanimal races generally. As a reaction from the old views about innate\nideas, the philosophers of the eighteenth century wished to believe that\nthe human mind was a kind of _tabula rasa_, or _carte blanche_, upon\nwhich education could impress any character. But if so, why not harness\nthe lion, and teach the sheep to drive away the wolf? If the moral, not\nto speak of the physical characteristics of the lower animals, are so\ndistinct, why should there not be moral and mental differences among\nourselves, descending, as we obviously do, from different stocks with\ndifferent physical characteristics? Notice what Mr. Darwin says on this\npoint:--\n\n    \"Mr. J. S. Mill speaks, in his celebrated work, 'Utilitarianism'\n    (1864, p. 46), of the social feelings as a 'powerful natural\n    sentiment,' and as 'the natural basis of sentiment for utilitarian\n    morality;' but on the previous page he says, 'if, as is my own\n    belief, the moral feelings are not innate, but acquired, they are\n    not for that reason less natural.' It is with hesitation that I\n    venture to differ from so profound a thinker, but it can hardly be\n    disputed that the social feelings are instinctive or innate in the\n    lower animals; and why should they not be so in man? Mr. Bain and\n    others believe that the moral sense is acquired by each individual\n    during his lifetime. On the general theory of evolution this is at\n    least extremely improbable.\"[89]\n\nMany persons may be inclined to like the philosophy of Spencer no better\nthan that of Mill. But, if the one be true and the other false, liking\nand disliking have no place in the matter. There may be many things\nwhich we cannot possibly like; but if they are, they are. It is possible\nthat the Principles of Evolution, as expounded by Mr. Herbert Spencer,\nmay seem as wanting in \"geniality\" as the formulas of Bentham. There is\nnothing genial, it must be confessed, about the mollusca and other\ncold-blooded organisms with which Mr. Spencer perpetually illustrates\nhis principles. Heaven forbid that any one should try to give geniality\nto Mr. Spencer's views of ethics by any operation comparable to that\nwhich Mill performed upon Benthamism.\n\nNevertheless, I fully believe that all which is sinister and ungenial in\nthe Philosophy of Evolution is either the expression of unquestionable\nfacts, or else it is the outcome of misinterpretation. It is impossible\nto see how Mr. Spencer, any more than other people, can explain away the\nexistence of pain and evil. Nobody has done this; perhaps nobody ever\nshall do it; certainly systems of Theology will not do it. A true\nphilosopher will not expect to solve everything. But if we admit the\npatent fact that pain exists, let us observe also the tendency which\nSpencer and Darwin establish towards its _minimization_. Evolution is a\nstriving ever towards the better and the happier. There may be almost\ninfinite powers against us, but at least there is a deep-laid scheme\nworking towards goodness and happiness. So profound and wide-spread is\nthis confederacy of the powers of good, that no failure and no series of\nfailures can disconcert it. Let mankind be thrown back a hundred times,\nand a hundred times the better tendencies of evolution will re-assert\nthemselves. Paley pointed out how many beautiful contrivances there are\nin the human form, tending to our benefit. Spencer has pointed out that\nthe Universe is one deep-laid framework for the production of such\nbeneficent contrivances. Paley called upon us to admire such exquisite\ninventions as a hand or an eye. Spencer calls upon us to admire a\nmachine which is the most comprehensive of all machines, because it is\never engaged in inventing beneficial inventions _ad infinitum_. Such at\nleast is my way of regarding his Philosophy.\n\nDarwin, indeed, cautions us against supposing that natural selection\nalways leads towards the production of higher and happier types of life.\nRetrogression may result as well as progression. But I apprehend that\nretrogression can only occur where the environment of a living species\nis altered to its detriment. Mankind degenerates when forced, like the\nEsquimaux, to inhabit the Arctic regions. Still in retrograding, in a\nsense, the being becomes more suited to its circumstances--more capable\ntherefore of happiness. The inventing machine of Evolution would be\nworking badly if it worked otherwise. But, however this may be, we must\naccept the philosophy if it be true, and, for my part, I do so without\nreluctance.\n\nAccording to Mill, we are little self-dependent gods, fighting with a\nmalignant and murderous power called Nature, sure, one would think, to\nbe worsted in the struggle. According to Spencer, as I venture to\ninterpret his theory, we are the latest manifestation of an\nall-prevailing tendency towards the good--the happy. Creation is not yet\nconcluded, and there is no one of us who may not become conscious in his\nheart that he is no Automaton, no mere lump of Protoplasm, but the\nCreature of a Creator.\n\n    W. STANLEY JEVONS.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[76] \"Utilitarianism,\" fifth edition, p. 9, foot-note. Except where\notherwise specified, the references throughout this article will be to\nthe pages of the fifth edition of \"Utilitarianism.\"\n\n[77] _Fortnightly Review_, May, 1877, vol. xxi. p. 648.\n\n[78] \"The Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy,\" Book I. chap.\nvi. 2nd paragraph.\n\n[79] \"An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation,\" p.\n1.\n\n[80] \"Principles,\" &c. chap. iv. sect. 2-5. The statement is not a\nverbatim extract but an abridgment of the sections named.\n\n[81] \"Autobiography,\" p. 214.\n\n[82] \"Utilitarianism,\" p. 11.\n\n[83] Italicised by the present writer.\n\n[84] \"Principles of Morals and Legislation,\" ed. 1823, vol. i. p. 31.\n\n[85] A very important article by Dr. E. L. Youmans upon Mr. Spencer's\nphilosophy has just appeared in the _North American Review_ for October,\n1879. Dr. Youmans traces the history of the Evolution doctrines, and\nproves the originality and independence of Mr. Spencer as regards the\nclosely related views of Mr. Darwin, Mr. Wallace, and Professor Huxley.\nThe eminent men in question are no doubt in perfect agreement; but Dr.\nYoumans seems to think that readers in general do not properly\nunderstand the singular originality and boldness of Mr. Spencer's vast\nand partially accomplished enterprise in philosophy.\n\n[86] Mr. Morley does not seem to countenance any such claims. On the\ncontrary, he remarks in his \"Critical Miscellanies,\" p. 324, that Mill's\nEssays lose in interest by not dealing with the Darwinian hypothesis.\n\n[87] \"Autobiography,\" p. 187.\n\n[88] \"Principles of Morals,\" &c., p. 29.\n\n[89] \"The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex,\" 1871, vol.\ni. p. 71. I cannot help thinking that Mr. Darwin felt the inconsistency\nand confusion of ideas in the passages quoted, although he does not so\nexpress himself. Otherwise, why does he quote from two pages?","title":"The Contemporary Review, Volume 36, November 1879","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":90521}