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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:47:55 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:47:55 -0700 |
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+ padding: .5em; + } + .covernote {visibility: visible; display: block; text-align: center;} + +} + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44628 ***</div> + +<div class="transnote covernote"> +<p class="center">Cover created by Transcriber and placed into the Public Domain.</p> +</div> + +<div class="poem-container"> +<div class="box center"> +<p class="p1 center larger bold">By James Freeman Clarke, D.D.</p> + +<blockquote class="p2"> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">TEN GREAT RELIGIONS.</span> Part I. An Essay in Comparative Theology. +New <i>Popular Edition</i>. Crown 8vo, gilt top, $2.00.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">TEN GREAT RELIGIONS.</span> Part II. Comparison of all Religions. +Crown 8vo, gilt top, $2.00.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">COMMON SENSE IN RELIGION.</span> Crown 8vo, $2.00.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">MEMORIAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES.</span> Crown 8vo, $2.00.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">EVERY-DAY RELIGION.</span> Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY.</span> With Maps +and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, $2.00.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">THE IDEAS OF THE APOSTLE PAUL.</span> Translated into their Modern +Equivalents. Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">SELF-CULTURE</span>: Physical, Intellectual, Moral, and Spiritual. Crown +8vo, $1.50.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">NINETEENTH CENTURY QUESTIONS.</span> Crown 8vo, $1.50.</p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="sans">EXOTICS.</span> Poems translated from the French, German, and Italian, +by J. F. C. and L. C. 18mo, $1.00.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="p2 center"> +HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY,<br /> +<span class="smcap smaller">Boston and New York</span>.<br /> +</p> +</div></div> + +<h1 class="vspace"> +NINETEENTH CENTURY<br /> +QUESTIONS</h1> + +<p class="p2 center vspace large"><span class="small">BY</span><br /> +JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 115px;"> +<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="115" height="151" alt="Publisher's logo" /> +</div> + +<p class="p2 center">BOSTON AND NEW YORK<br /> +<span class="larger">HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY</span><br /> +<b>The Riverside Press, Cambridge</b><br /> +1897.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="p4 center vspace smaller"> +COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY ELIOT C. CLARKE<br /> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br /> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>PREFATORY NOTE</h2> + +<p>Shortly before his death, Dr. Clarke selected +the material for this book, and partly prepared it +for publication. He wished thus to preserve some +of his papers which had excited interest when +printed in periodicals or read as lectures.</p> + +<p>With slight exceptions, the book is issued just +as prepared by the author.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a></h2> + +<div class="center"><div class="center-table"> +<table summary="Contents"> + <tr class="small"> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdr"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl larger">LITERARY STUDIES.</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Lyric and Dramatic Elements in Literature and Art</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#LYRIC">3</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Dualism in National Life</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#DUALISM">28</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Did Shakespeare write Bacon's Works?</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#SHAKESPEARE">38</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">The Evolution of a Great Poem: Gray's Elegy</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#EVOLUTION">60</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl larger">RELIGIOUS AND PHILOSOPHICAL.</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Affinities of Buddhism and Christianity</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#AFFINITIES">71</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Why I am not a Free-Religionist</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#WHY">90</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Have Animals Souls?</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#HAVE">100</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Apropos of Tyndall</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#APROPOS">128</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Law and Design in Nature</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#LAW">149</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl larger">HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL.</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">The Two Carlyles, or Carlyle Past and Present</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CARLYLES">162</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Buckle and his Theory of Averages</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#BUCKLE">196</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Voltaire</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#VOLTAIRE">235</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Ralph Waldo Emerson</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#EMERSON">270</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">Harriet Martineau</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#HARRIET">284</a></td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl in2"><span class="smcap">The Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America</span></td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#RISE">312</a></td></tr> +</table></div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="LITERARY_STUDIES" id="LITERARY_STUDIES"><span class="larger">LITERARY STUDIES</span></a></h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a id="LYRIC">LYRIC AND DRAMATIC ELEMENTS IN +LITERATURE AND ART</a></h2> + +<p>The German philosophy has made a distinction +between the Subjective and the Objective, which +has been found so convenient that it has been already +naturalized and is almost acclimated in our +literature.</p> + +<p>The distinction is this: in all thought there are +two factors, the thinker himself, and that about +which he thinks. All thought, say our friends the +Germans, results from these two factors: the subject, +or the man thinking; and the object, what +the man thinks about. All that part of thought +which comes from the man himself, the Ego, +they call subjective; all that part which comes +from the outside world, the non-Ego, they call objective.</p> + +<p>I am about to apply this distinction to literature +and art; but instead of the terms Subjective and +Objective, I shall use the words Lyric and Dramatic.</p> + +<p>For example, when a writer or an artist puts +a great deal of himself into his work, I call him +a lyric writer or artist. Lyrical, in poetry, is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> +term applied to that species of poetry which directly +expresses the individual emotions of the poet. On +the other hand, I call an artist or poet dramatic +when his own personality disappears, and is lost +in that which he paints or describes. A lyric or +subjective writer gives us more of himself than of +the outside world; a dramatic or objective writer +gives us more of the outside world than of himself.</p> + +<p>Lyric poetry is that which is to be sung; the +lyre accompanies song. Now, song is mainly +personal or subjective. It expresses the singer's +personal emotions, feelings, desires; and for these +reasons I select this phrase "lyric" to express all +subjective or personal utterances in art.</p> + +<p>The drama, on the other hand, is a photograph +of life; of live men and women acting themselves +out freely and individually. The dramatic writer +ought to disappear in his drama; if he does not +do so he is not a dramatic writer, but a lyrist in +disguise.</p> + +<p>The dramatic element is the power of losing one's +self—opinions, feeling, character—in that which +is outside and foreign, and reproducing it just as +it is. In perfect dramatic expression the personal +equation is wholly eliminated. The writer disappears +in his characters; his own hopes and fears, +emotions and convictions, do not color his work.</p> + +<p>But the lyric element works in the opposite way. +In song, the singer is prominent more than what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> +he sings. He suffuses his subject with his own +thoughts and feelings. If he describes nature, he +merely gives us the feelings it awakens in his own +mind. If he attempts to write a play, we see the +same actor thinly disguised reappearing in all the +parts.</p> + +<p>Now, there is a curious fact connected with +this subject. It is that great lyric and dramatic +authors or artists are apt to appear in duads or +pairs. Whenever we meet with a highly subjective +writer, we are apt to find him associated with +another as eminently objective. This happens so +often that one might imagine that each type of +thought attracts its opposite and tends to draw +it out and develop it. It may be that genius, +when it acts on disciples who are persons of talent, +draws out what is like itself, and makes imitators; +when it acts on a disciple who himself possesses +genius, it draws out what is opposite to itself and +develops another original thinker. Genius, like +love, is attracted by its opposite, or counterpart. +Love and genius seek to form wholes; they look +for what will complete and fulfill themselves. +When, therefore, a great genius has come, fully +developed on one side, he exercises an irresistible +attraction on the next great genius, in whom +the opposite side is latent, and is an important +factor in his development. Thus, perhaps, we obtain +the duads, whose curious concurrence I will +now illustrate by a few striking instances.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> +Beginning our survey with English literature, +who are the first two great poets whose names +occur to us? Naturally, Chaucer and Spenser. +Now, Chaucer is eminently dramatic and objective +in his genius; while Spenser is distinctly a lyrical +and subjective poet.</p> + +<p>Chaucer tells stories; and story-telling is objective. +One of the most renowned collections of +stories is the "Arabian Nights;" but who knows +anything about the authors of those entertaining +tales? They are merely pictures of Eastern life, +reflected in the minds of some impersonal authors, +whose names even are unknown.</p> + +<p>Homer is another great story-teller; and Homer +is so objective, so little of a personality, that some +modern critics suppose there may have been several +Homers.</p> + +<p>Chaucer is a story-teller also; and in his stories +everything belonging to his age appears, except +Chaucer himself. His writings are full of pictures +of life, sketches of character; in one word, he is +a dramatic or objective writer. He paints things +as they are,—gives us a panorama of his period. +Knights, squires, yeomen, priests, friars, pass before +us, as in Tennyson's poem "The Lady of +Shalott."</p> + +<p>The mind of an objective story-teller, like Chaucer, +is the faithful mirror, which impartially reflects +all that passes before it, but cracks from side +to side whenever he lets a personal feeling enter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> +his mind, for then the drama suddenly disappears +and a lyric of personal hope or fear, gladness or +sadness, takes its place.</p> + +<p>Spenser is eminently a lyric poet. His own +genius suffuses his stories with a summer glow of +warm, tender, generous sentiment. In his descriptions +of nature he does not catalogue details, but +suggests impressions, which is the only way of +truly describing nature. There are some writers +who can describe scenery, so that the reader feels +as if he had seen it himself. The secret of all +such description is that it does not count or measure, +but suggests. It is not quantitative but qualitative +analysis. It does not apply a foot rule to +nature, but gives the impression made on the mind +and heart by the scene. I have never been at +Frascati nor in Sicily, but I can hardly persuade +myself that I have not seen those places. I have +distinct impressions of both, simply from reading +two of George Sand's stories. I have in my mind +a picture of Frascati, with deep ravines, filled +with foliage; with climbing, clustering, straggling +vines and trees and bushes; with overhanging +crags, deep masses of shadow below, bright sunshine +on the stone pines above. So I have another +picture of Sicilian scenery, wide and open, with +immense depths of blue sky, and long reaches of +landscape; ever-present Etna, soaring snow-clad +into the still air; an atmosphere of purity, filling +the heart with calm content. It may be that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> +Catania and Frascati are not like this; but I feel +as if I had seen them, not as if I had heard them +described.</p> + +<p>It is thus that Spenser describes nature; by +touching some chord of fancy in the soul. Notice +this picture of a boat on the <span class="locked">sea:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"So forth they rowëd; and that Ferryman<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his stiff oars did brush the sea so strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the hoar waters from his frigate ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the light bubbles dancëd all along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whiles the salt brine out of the billows sprang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, far off, they many islands spy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On every side, floating the floods among."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>You notice that you are in the boat yourself, +and everything is told as it appears to you there; +you see the bending of the "stiff oars" by your +side, and the little bubbles dancing on the water, +and the islands, not as they <em>are</em>, rock-anchored, +but as they <em>seem</em> to you, floating on the water. +This is subjective description,—putting the reader +in the place, and letting him see it all from that +point of view. So Spenser speaks of the "oars +sweeping the watery wilderness;" and of the gusty +winds "filling the sails with fear."</p> + +<p>Perhaps the highest description ought to include +both the lyric and dramatic elements. Here is a +specimen of sea description, by an almost unknown +American poet, Fenner, perfect in its way. The +poem is called "Gulf <span class="locked">Weed:"—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"A weary weed washed to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drearily drenched in the ocean brine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soaring high, or sinking low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lashed along without will of mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sport of the spoom of the surging sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung on the foam afar and near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark my manifold mystery,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Growth and grace in their place appear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"I bear round berries, gray and red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rootless and rover though I be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My spangled leaves, when nicely spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Arboresce as a trunkless tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Corals curious coat me o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i2">White and hard in apt array;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mid the wild waves' rude uproar<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gracefully grow I, night and day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"Hearts there are on the sounding shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Something whispers soft to me,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Restless and roaming for evermore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like this weary weed of the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear they yet on each beating breast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The eternal Type of the wondrous whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Growth unfolding amidst unrest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grace informing the silent soul."<br /></span> +</div> +</div></div> + +<p>All nature becomes alive in the Spenserian +description. Take, for example, the wonderful +stanza which describes the music of the "Bower +of <span class="locked">Bliss:"—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i4q">"The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their notes unto the voice attemper'd sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Th' angelical, soft, trembling voices made<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the instruments divine respondence meet;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The silver-sounding instruments did meet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With the bass murmur of the water's fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The water's fall, with difference discreet,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Now loud, now low, unto the winds did call;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gentle warbling winds low answerëd to all."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Consider the splendid portrait of Belphœbe:—</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4q">"In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Kindled above at the Heavenly Maker's light;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And darted fiery beams out of the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So passing piercing, and so wondrous bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They quite bereaved the rash beholder's sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In them the blinded god his lustful fire<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To kindle oft essay'd but had no might,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For with dread majesty and awful ire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She broke his wanton darts and quenchëd base desire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4q">"Her ivory forehead, full of bounty brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Like a broad tablet did itself dispread,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For love his lofty triumphs to engrave,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And write the battles of his great godhead;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All good and honor might therein be read,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For there their dwelling was; and when she spake,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sweet words, like dropping honey she did shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And, twixt the pearls and rubies softly brake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A silver Sound, that heavenly music seemed to make."<br /></span> +</div> +</div></div> + +<p>If we examine this picture, we see that it is not +a photograph, such as the sun makes, but a lover's +description of his mistress. He sees her, not as +she is, but as she is to <em>him</em>. He paints her out of +his own heart. In her eyes he sees, not only brilliancy +and color, but heavenly light; he reads in +them an untouched purity of soul. Looking at her +forehead, he sees, not whiteness and roundness, +but goodness and honor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +Shakespeare's lovers always describe their mistresses +in this way, out of their own soul and heart. +It is his own feeling that the lover gives, seeing +perhaps "Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt."</p> + +<p>After Chaucer and Spenser the next great English +poets whose names naturally occur to us are +Shakespeare and Milton.</p> + +<p>Now, Shakespeare was the most objective dramatic +writer who ever lived; while Milton was eminently +and wholly a subjective and lyrical writer.</p> + +<p>It is true that Shakespeare was so great that he +is one of the very few men of genius in whom appear +both of these elements. In his plays he is so +objective that he is wholly lost in his characters, +and his personality absolutely disappears; in his +sonnets he "unlocks his heart" and is lyrical and +subjective; he there gives us his inmost self, and +we seem to know him as we know a friend with +whom we have lived in intimate relations for years. +Still, he will be best remembered by his plays; +and into them he put the grandeur and universality +of his genius; so we must necessarily consider +him as the greatest dramatic genius of all time. +But he belonged to a group of dramatic poets of +whom he was the greatest: Ben Jonson, Beaumont +and Fletcher, Massinger, Ford, Webster,—any +one of whom would make the fortune of the stage +to-day. It was a great age of dramatic literature, +and it came very naturally to meet a demand. +The play then was what the novel is to-day. As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> +people to-day have no sooner read a new novel than +they want another, so, in Shakespeare's time, they +had no sooner seen a new play than they ran to +see another. Hence the amazing fertility of the +dramatic writers. Thomas Heywood wrote the +whole or a part of two hundred and twenty plays. +The manager of one of the theatres bought a hundred +and six new plays for his stage in six years; +and in the next five years a hundred and sixty. +The price paid to an author for a play would now +be equal to about two or three hundred dollars. +The dramatic element, as is natural, abounds in +these writings, though in some of them the author's +genius is plainly lyrical. Such, for example, +is Massinger's, who always reminds me of Schiller. +Both wrote plays, but in both writers the faculty +of losing themselves in their characters is wanting. +The nobleness of Schiller appears in all his works, +and constitutes a large part of their charm. So in +Massinger all tends to generosity and elevation. +His worst villains are ready to be converted and +turn saints at the least provocation. Their wickedness +is in a condition of unstable equilibrium; +it topples over, and goodness becomes supreme in +a single moment. Massinger could not create +really wicked people; their wickedness is like a +child's moment of passion or willfulness, ending +presently in a flood of tears, and a sweet reconciliation +with his patient mother. But how different +was it with Shakespeare! Consider his Iago.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> +How deeply rooted was his villainy! how it was +a part of the very texture of his being! He had +conformed to it the whole philosophy of his life. +His cynical notions appear in the first scene. Iago +<em>believes</em> in meanness, selfishness, everything that is +base; to him all that seems good is either a pretense +or a weakness. The man who does not seek +the gratification of his own desires is a fool. +There is to Iago nothing sweet, pure, fair, or true, +in this world or the next. He profanes everything +he touches. He sneers at the angelic innocence of +Desdemona; he sneers at the generous, impulsive +soul of Othello. When some one speaks to him of +virtue, he says "Virtue? a fig! ’tis in ourselves +that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, +to which our wills are gardeners." You can +plant nettles or lettuce as you please. That is to +say, there is no reality in goodness. The virtue of +Desdemona will be gone to-morrow, if she takes +the whim. The Moor's faith in goodness is folly; +it will cause him to be led by the nose. There is +no converting such a man as that; or only when, +by means of terrible disappointments and anguish, +he is brought to see the reality of human goodness +and divine providence. And that can hardly happen +to him in this world.</p> + +<p>Iago is a murderer of the soul, Macbeth a murderer +of the body. The wickedness of Macbeth +is different from that of Iago; that of Shylock +and of Richard Third different again from either.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> +Macbeth is a half-brute, a man in a low state of +development, with little intellect and strong passions. +Shylock is a highly intellectual man, not +a cynic like Iago, but embittered by ill-treatment, +made venomous by cruel wrong and perpetual contempt. +Oppression has made this wise man mad. +Richard Third, originally bad, has been turned into +a cruel monster by the egotism born of power. +He has the contempt for his race that belongs to +the aristocrat, who looks on men in humbler places +as animals of a lower order made for his use or +amusement. Now, this wonderful power of differentiating +characters belongs to the essence of the +dramatic faculty. Each of these is developed +from within, from a personal centre, and is true to +that. Every manifestation of this central life is +correlated to every other. If one of Shakespeare's +characters says but ten words in one scene, and +then ten words more in another, we recognize him +as the same person. His speech bewrayeth him. +So it is in human life. Every man is fatally consistent +with himself. So, after we have seen a +number of pictures by any one of the great masters, +we recognize him again, as soon as we enter a gallery. +We know him by a certain style. Inferior +artists have a manner; great artists have a +style; manner is born of imitation; style of originality. +So, there is a special quality in every human +being, if he will only allow it to unfold. The +dramatic faculty recognizes this. Its knowledge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> +of man is not a philosophy, nor a mere knowledge +of human nature, but a perception of individual +character. It first integrates men as human beings; +then differentiates them as individuals. +Play-writers, novelists, and artists who do not possess +this dramatic genius cannot grow their characters +from within, from a personal centre of life; +but build them up from without, according to a +plan. In description of nature, however, Shakespeare +is, as he ought to be, subjective and lyric; +he touches nature with human feelings. Take his +description of a <span class="locked">brook:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"The current that with gentle murmur glides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou know'st, being stopp'd impatiently doth rage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when his fair course is not hindered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He overtaketh in his pilgrimage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so by many winding nooks he strays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With willing sport to the wild ocean."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The brook is gentle; then it becomes angry; +then it is pacified and begins to sing; then it stops +to kiss the sedge; then it is a pilgrim; and it +walks <em>willingly</em> on to the ocean.</p> + +<p>So in his <span class="locked">sonnet:—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Full many a glorious morning have I seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flatter the mountain top with sovereign eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissing with golden face the meadows green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anon permit the basest clouds to ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With ugly rack on his celestial face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the forlorn world his visage hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stealing unseen to west with his disgrace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even so my sun one early morn did shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all triumphant splendor on my brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But out, alack! he was but one hour mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The region cloud hath masked him from me now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet him, for this, my love no whit disdaineth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suns of this world may stain, when heaven's sun staineth."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>From Shakespeare, the marvel of dramatic genius, +turn to Milton, and we find the opposite tendency +unfolded.</p> + +<p>The "Paradise Lost" is indeed dramatic in +form, with different characters and dialogues, in +hell, on earth, and in heaven. But in essence it is +undramatic. Milton is never for a moment lost in +his characters; his grand and noble soul is always +appearing. Every one speaks as Milton would +have spoken had Milton been in the same place, +and looked at things from the same point of view. +Sin and Satan, for example, both talk like John +Milton. Sin is very conscientious, and before she +will unlock the gate of hell she is obliged to argue +herself into a conviction that it is right to do so. +Satan, she says, is her father, and children ought to +obey their parents; so, since he tells her to unlock +the gate, she ought to do so. Death reproaches +Satan, in good set terms, for his treason against +the Almighty; and Satan, as we all know, utters +the noblest sentiments, and talks as Milton would +have talked, had Milton been in Satan's <span class="locked">position.<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">1</a></span></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span></p> +<p>Coming down nearer to our own time, we find a +duad of great English poets, usually associated in +our minds,—Byron and Scott.</p> + +<p>Scott was almost the last of the dramatic poets +of England, using the word dramatic in its large +sense. His plays never amounted to much; but +his stories in verse and in prose are essentially dramatic. +In neither does he reveal himself. In all +his poetry you scarcely find a reference to his personal +feelings. In the L'Envoi to the "Lady of +the Lake" there is a brief allusion of this sort, +touching because so unusual, and almost the only +one I now recall. Addressing the "Harp of the +North" he <span class="locked">says:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i2q">"Much have I owed thy strains through life's long way,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Through secret woes the world has never known,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When on the weary night dawned wearier day,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">And bitterer was the grief devoured alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I o'erlive such woes, Enchantress! is thine own."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Scott, like Chaucer, brings before us a long succession +of characters, from many classes, countries, +and times. Scotch barons and freebooters, English +kings, soldiers, gentlemen, crusaders, Alpine +peasants, mediæval counts, serfs, Jews, Saxons,—brave, +cruel, generous,—all sweep past us, in a +long succession of pictures; but of Scott himself +nothing appears except the nobleness and purity +of the tone which pervades all. He is therefore +eminently a dramatic or objective writer.</p> + +<p>But Byron is the exact opposite. The mighty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> +exuberance of his genius, which captivated his age, +and the echoes of which thrill down to ours, in all +its vast overflow of passion, imagination, wit,—ever +sounded but one strain,—himself. His own +woes, his own wrongs are the ever-recurring theme. +Though he wrote many dramas, he was more undramatic +than Milton. Every character in every +play is merely a thinly disguised Byron. It was +impossible for him to get away from himself. If +Tennyson's lovely line tells the truth when he +<span class="locked">says,—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Love took up the harp of life and smote on all its chords with might;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight:"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">then Byron never really loved; for in his poetry +the chord of self never passes out of sight.</p> + +<p>In his plays the principal characters are Byron +undiluted—as Manfred, Sardanapalus, Cain, +Werner, Arnold. All the secondary characters +are Byron more or less diluted,—Byron and +water, may we say? Never, since the world began, +has there been a poet so steeped in egotism, +so sick of self-love as he; and the magnificence of +his genius appears in the unfailing interest which +he can give to this monotonous theme.</p> + +<p>But he was the example of a spirit with which +the whole age was filled to saturation. Almost all +the nineteenth century poets of England are subjective, +giving us their own experience, sentiments,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +reflections, philosophies. Wordsworth, Coleridge, +Shelley, Keats, revolve in this enchanted and +enchanting circle. Keats and Coleridge seem +capable of something different. So, in the double +star, made up of Wordsworth and Coleridge, the +first is absolutely personal and lyric, the second +sometimes objective and dramatic. And in that +other double star of Shelley and Keats the same +difference may be noted.</p> + +<p>A still more striking instance of the combination +of these antagonisms is to be found in our +time, in Robert Browning and his wife. Mrs. +Browning is wholly lyric, like a bird which sings +its own tender song of love and hope and faith till +"that wild music burdens every bough;" and +those "mournful hymns" hush the night to listening +sympathy.</p> + +<p>But in her husband we have a genuine renaissance +of the old dramatic power of the English +bards. Robert Browning is <em>so</em> dramatic that he +forgets himself and his readers too, in his characters +and their situations. To study the varieties +of men and women is his joy; to reproduce them +unalloyed, his triumph.</p> + +<p>One curious instance of this self-oblivious immersion +in the creations of his mind occurs to me. In +one of his early poems called "In a Gondola"—as +it first appeared—two lovers are happily conversing, +until in a moment, we know not why, the +tone becomes one of despair, and they bid each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> +other an eternal farewell. Why this change of +tone there is no explanation. In a later edition he +condescends to inform us, inserting a note to this +effect: "He is surprised and stabbed." This is +the opposite extreme to Milton's angels carefully +explaining to each other that they possess a specific +levity which enables them to drop upward.</p> + +<p>If we think of our own poets whose names are +usually connected,—Longfellow and Lowell, for +instance,—we shall easily see which is dramatic and +which lyric. But the only man of truly dramatic +faculty whom we have possessed was one in whom +the quality never fully ripened,—I mean Edgar +Allan Poe.</p> + +<p>In foreign literature we may trace the same +tendency of men of genius to arrange themselves +in couplets. Take, for instance, in Italy, Dante +and Petrarch; in France, Voltaire and Rousseau; +in Germany, Goethe and Schiller. Dante is dramatic, +losing himself in his stern subject, his +dramatic characters; his awful pictures of gloomy +destiny. Petrarch is lyrical, personal, singing forever +his own sad and sweet fate. Again, Voltaire +is essentially dramatic,—immersed in things, absorbed +in life, a man reveling in all human accident +and adventure, and aglow with faith in an +earthly paradise. The sad Rousseau goes apart, +away from men; standing like Byron, among them, +but not of them; in a cloud of thoughts that are +not their thoughts. And, once more, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> +Goethe resembles Shakespeare in this, that some +of his works are subjective, and others objective,—though, +in the greatness of his mind he reconciles +all the usual antagonisms of thought,—yet the +fully developed Goethe, like the fully developed +Shakespeare, disappears in his characters and +theme. Life to him, in all its forms, was so intensely +interesting that his own individual and +subjective sentiments are left out of sight. But +Schiller stands opposed to Goethe, as being a dramatist +devoid of dramatic genius, but full of personal +power; so grand in his nobleness of soul, so +majestic in the aspirations of his sentiment, so +full of patriotic ardor and devotion to truth and +goodness, that he moves all hearts as he walks +through his dramas,—the great poet visible in +every scene and every line. As his tried and +noble friend says of him in an equally undying +<span class="locked">strain:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Burned in his cheek, with ever-deepening fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit's youth, which never passes by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The courage, which though worlds in hate conspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conquers at last their dull hostility;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lofty faith, which ever, mounting higher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now presses on, now waiteth patiently;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which the good tends ever to its goal—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which day lights at last the generous soul."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Goethe's characters and stories covered the +widest range: Faust, made sick with too much +thought, and seeking outward joy as a relief; +Werther, a self-absorbed sentimentalist; Tasso, an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> +Italian man of genius, a mixture of imagination, +aspiration, sensitive self-distrust; susceptible to +opinion, sympathetic; Iphigenia, a picture of antique +calm, simplicity, purity, classic repose, like +that of a statue; Hermann and Dorothea, a sweet +idyl of modern life, in a simple-minded German +village with an opinionated, honest landlord, a +talkative apothecary, a motherly landlady, a sensible +and good pastor, and the two young lovers.</p> + +<p>This law of duality, or reaction of genius on +genius, will also be found to apply to artists, philosophers, +historians, orators. These also come in +pairs, manifesting the same antagonistic qualities.</p> + +<p>Some artists are lyric; putting their own souls +into every face, every figure, making even a landscape +alive with their own mood; <span class="locked">adding—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i30q">"A gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lustre known to neither sea nor land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But borrowed from the poet-painter's dream."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In every landscape of Claude we find the soul +of Claude; in every rugged rock-defile of Salvator +we read his mood. These artists are lyric; but there +are also great dramatic painters, who give you, not +themselves, but men and women; so real, so differentiated, +characters so full of the variety and +antagonism of nature, that the whole life of a +period springs into being at their touch.</p> + +<p>Take for instance two names, which always go +together, standing side by side at the summit +of Italian art,—Michael Angelo and Raphael.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> +Though Raphael was a genius of boundless exuberance, +and poured on the wall and canvas a flood +of forms, creating as nature creates, without pause +or self-repetition, yet there is a tone in all which +irresistibly speaks of the artist's own soul. He +created a world of Raphaels. Grace, sweetness, +and tenderness went into all his work. Every line +has the same characteristic qualities.</p> + +<p>Turn to the frescoes by Michael Angelo in the +Sistine Chapel. As we look up at those mighty +forms—prophets, sibyls, seers, with multitudes of +subordinate figures—we gradually trace in each +prophet, king, or bard an individual character. +Each one is himself. How fully each face and +attitude is differentiated by some inward life. +How each—David, Isaiah, Ezekiel, the Persian +and the Libyan sibyl—stands out, distinct, filled +with a power or a tenderness all his own. Michael +Angelo himself is not there, except as a fountain +of creative life, from whose genius all these +majestic persons come forth as living realities.</p> + +<p>Hanging on my walls are the well-known engravings +of Guido's Aurora and Leonardo da +Vinci's Last Supper. One of these is purely lyrical; +the other as clearly dramatic.</p> + +<p>The Aurora is so exquisitely lovely, the forms +so full of grace, the movement of all the figures so +rapid yet so firm, that I can never pass it without +stopping to enjoy its charms. But variety is absent. +The hours are lovely sisters, as Ovid describes +<span class="locked">sisters:—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem" xml:lang="la" lang="la"> +<span class="i0q">"Facies non omnibus una,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nec diversa tamen, qualis decet esse sororum."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But when we turn to the Last Supper, we see +the dramatic artist at his best. The subject is +such as almost to compel a monotonous treatment, +but there is a wonderful variety in the attitudes +and grouping. Each apostle shows by his attitude, +gesture, expression, that he is affected differently +from all the others. Even the feet under +the table speak. Stand before the picture; +put yourself into the attitude of each apostle, +and you will immediately understand his state of +<span class="locked">mind.<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">2</a></span></p> + +<p>The mediæval religious artists were subjective, +sentimental, lyrical. In a scene like the crucifixion, +all the characters, whether apostles, Roman +soldiers, or Jewish Pharisees, hang their heads like +bulrushes.</p> + +<p>But see how Rubens, that great dramatic painter,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> +represents the scene. The Magdalen, wild with +grief, with disheveled hair, has thrown herself at +the foot of the cross, clasping and kissing the feet +of Jesus. On the other faces are terror, dismay, +doubt, unbelief, mockery, curiosity, triumph, despair,—according +to each person's character and +attitude toward the event. Meantime the Roman +centurion, seated on his splendid horse, is deliberately +and carefully striking his spear into the side +of the sufferer. His face expresses only that he +has a duty to perform and means to fulfill it perfectly.</p> + +<p>As Rubens is greatly dramatic, his pupil and +follower, Vandyke, is a great lyrical artist, whose +noble aspiration and generous sentiment shows +itself in all his work.</p> + +<p>The school of Venice, with Titian and Tintoretto +at its head, is grandly dramatic and objective. +The school of Florence, with Guido and +Domenichino at its head, eminently lyrical and +subjective.</p> + +<p>If we had time, we might show that the two +masters of Greek philosophy, Plato and Aristotle, +are, the one lyrical, and intensely subjective, platonizing +the universe; and the other as evidently +objective, immersed in the study of things; rejoicing +in their variety, their individuality, their +persistence of type.</p> + +<p>The two masters of Greek history, Herodotus +and Thucydides, stand opposed to each other in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> +same way. Herodotus is the story-teller, the dramatic +raconteur, whose charming tales are as entertaining +as the "Arabian Nights." Thucydides is +the personal historian who puts himself into his +story, and determines its meaning and moral according +to his own theories and convictions.</p> + +<p>We have another example in Livy and Tacitus.</p> + +<p>The two great American orators most frequently +mentioned together are Webster and Clay. +Though you would smile if I were to call either of +them a lyric or a dramatic speaker, yet the essential +distinction we have been considering may be +clearly seen in them. Clay's inspiration was personal, +his influence, personal influence. His theme +was nothing; his treatment of it everything. But +Webster rose or fell with the magnitude and importance +of the occasion and argument. When +on the wrong side, he failed, for his intellect +would not work well except in the service of +reality and truth. But Clay was perhaps greatest +when arguing against all facts and all reason. +Then he summoned all his powers,—wit, illustration, +analogy, syllogisms, appeals to feeling, +prejudice, and passion; and so swept along his +confused and blinded audience to his conclusions.</p> + +<p>I think that subjective writers are loved more +than dramatic. We admire the one and we love +the other. We admire Shakespeare and love Milton; +we admire Chaucer and love Spenser; we +admire Dante and love Petrarch; we admire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> +Goethe and love Schiller; and if Byron had not +been so selfish a man, we should have loved him +too. We admire Michael Angelo and love Raphael; +we admire Rubens and love Vandyke; we admire +Robert Browning and love Mrs. Browning. In +short, we care more for the man who gives us +himself than for the man who gives us the whole +outside world.</p> + +<p>I have been able to give you only a few hints +of this curious distinction in art and literature. +But if we carry it in our mind, we shall find it +a key by which many doors may be unlocked. +It will enable us to classify authors, and understand +them better.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="DUALISM">DUALISM IN NATIONAL LIFE</a></h2> + +<p>The science of comparative ethnology is one +which has been greatly developed during the last +twenty-five years. The persistence of race tendencies, +as in the Semitic tribes, Jews and Arabs, +or in the Teutonic and Celtic branches of the great +Aryan stock, has been generally admitted. Though +few would now say, with the ethnologist Knox, +"Race is everything," none would wholly dispense +with this factor, as Buckle did, in writing a history +of civilization.</p> + +<p>Racial varieties have existed from prehistoric +times. Their origin is lost in the remote past. +As far as history goes back, we find them the same +that they are now. When and how the primitive +stock differentiated itself into the great varieties +which we call Aryan, Semitic, and Turanian, no +one can tell. But there are well-established varieties +of which we can trace the rise and development; +I mean national varieties. The character +of an Englishman or a Frenchman is as distinctly +marked as that of a Greek or Roman. There is a +general resemblance among all Englishmen; and +the same kind of resemblance among all Frenchmen, +Spaniards, Swedes, Poles. But this crystallization<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> +into national types of character has taken +place in a comparatively short period. We look +back to a time when there were no Englishmen in +Great Britain; but only Danes, Saxons, Normans, +and Celts; no Frenchmen in France; but Gauls, +Franks, and Romans. Gradually a distinct quality +emerges, and we have Frenchmen, Italians, Englishmen. +The type, once arrived at, persists, and +becomes more marked. It is marked by personal +looks and manners, by a common temperament, +a common style of thinking, feeling, acting; the +same kind of morals and manners. This type was +formed by the action and reaction of the divers +races brought side by side—Normans and Saxons +mutually influencing each other in England, and +being influenced again by climate, conditions of +life, forms of government, national customs. So, +at last, we have the well-developed national character,—a +mysterious but very certain element, from +which no individual can wholly escape. All drink +of that one spirit.</p> + +<p>Thus far I have been stating what we all know. +But now I would call your attention to a curious +fact, which, so far as I am aware, has not before +been noticed. It is this,—that when two nations, +during their forming period, have been in relation +to each other, there will be a peculiar character +developed in each. That is to say, they will differ +from each other according to certain well-defined +lines, and these differences will repeat themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> +again and again in history, in curious parallelisms, +or dualisms.</p> + +<p>To take the most familiar illustration of this: +consider the national qualities of the French and +English. The English and French, during several +centuries, have been acting and reacting on each +other, both in war and peace. Now, what are the +typical characteristics of these two nations? +Stated in a broad way they might be described +something as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> + +<p>The English mind is more practical than ideal; +its movement is slow but persistent; its progress +is by gradual development; it excels in the industrial +arts; it reverences power; it loves liberty +more than equality, not objecting to an aristocracy. +It tends to individualism. Its conquests have been +due to the power of order, and adherence to law.</p> + +<p>The French mind is more ideal than practical; +versatile, rather than persistent; its movements +rapid, its progress by crises and revolution, rather +than by development; it excels in whatever is +tasteful and artistic; it admires glory rather than +power; loves equality more than liberty; objects +to an aristocracy, but is ready to yield individual +rights at the bidding of the community; renouncing +individualism for the sake of communism; +and its successes have been due to enthusiasm +rather than to organization.</p> + +<p>Next, look at the Greeks and Romans. These +peoples were in intimate relations during the forming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> +period of national life; and we find in them +much the same contrasts of character that we do +in the English and the French. The Romans were +deficient in imagination, rather prosaic, fond of +rule and fixed methods, conservative of ancient +customs. The Greeks were quick and versatile; +artistic to a high degree; producing masterpieces +of architecture, painting, statuary, and creating +every form of literature; inventing the drama, the +epic poem, oratory, odes, history, philosophy. The +Romans borrowed from them their art and their +literature, but were themselves the creators of law, +the organizers of force. The Greeks and Romans +were the English and French of antiquity; and +you will notice that they occupy geographically the +same relative positions,—the Greeks and French +on the east; the Romans and English on the west.</p> + +<p>But now observe another curious fact. The +Roman Empire and the Greek republics came to +an end; and in Greece no important nationality +took the place of those wonderful commonwealths. +But in Italy, by the union of the old inhabitants +with the Teutonic northern invaders, modern Italy +was slowly formed into a new national life. No +longer deriving any important influence from +Greece (which had ceased to be a living and independent +force), Italy, during the Middle Ages, +came into relations with Spain and the Spaniards. +In Spain, as in Italy, a new national life was in +process of formation by the union of the Gothic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> +tribes, the Mohammedan invaders, and the ancient +inhabitants. The Spaniards occupied Sicily in +1282, and Naples fell later into their hands, about +1420, and in 1526 took possession of Milan. Thus +Italy and Spain were entangled in complex relations +during their forming period. What was the +final result? Modern Italians became the very +opposite of the ancient Romans. The Spaniards +on the west are now the Romans, and the Italians, +the Greeks. The Spaniards are slow, strong, conservative; +the Italians, quick-witted, full of feeling +and sentiment, versatile. The Spaniards trust +to organization, the Italians to enthusiasm. The +Spaniards are practical, the Italians ideal. In +fine, the Spaniards, on the west, are like the English +and the ancient Romans; the Italians, on the +east, like the French and the Greeks. The English +pride, the Roman pride, the Spanish pride, we +have all heard of; but the French, the Greeks, and +the Italians are not so much inclined to pride and +the love of power, as to vanity and the love of fame. +England, Rome, and Spain, united by law and +the love of organization, gradually became solidified +into empires; Greece, Italy, and France were +always divided into independent states, provinces, +or republics.</p> + +<p>Now, let us go east and consider two empires +that have grown up, side by side, with constant +mutual relations: Japan and China. The people +of Japan, on the east, are described by all travelers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +in language that might be applied to the ancient +Greeks or the modern French. They are said to +be quick-witted, lively, volatile, ready of apprehension, +with a keen sense of honor, which prefers +death to disgrace; eminently a social and pleasure-seeking +people, fond of feasts, dancing, music, and +frolics. Men and women are pleasing, polite, +affable. On the other hand, the Chinese are described +as more given to reason than to sentiment, +prosaic, slow to acquire, but tenacious of all that is +gained, very conservative, great lovers of law and +order; with little taste for art, but much national +pride. They are the English of Asia; the Japanese, +the French.</p> + +<p>Go back to earlier times, when the two oldest +branches of the great Aryan stock diverged on the +table-lands of central Asia; the Vedic race descending +into India, and the Zend people passing +west, into Persia. The same duplex development +took place that we have seen in other instances. +The people on the Indus became what they still +are,—a people of sentiment and feeling. Like +the French, they are polite, and cultivate civility +and courtesy. The same tendency to local administration +which we see in France is found in India; +the commune being, in both, the germ-cell of national +life. The village communities in India are +little republics, almost independent of anything +outside. Dynasties change, new rulers and kings +arrive; Hindoo, Mohammedan, English; but the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +village community remains the same. Like the +Japanese, the French, the Italians, the inhabitants +of India are skillful manufacturers of ornamental +articles. Their religion tends to sentiment more +than to morality,—to feeling, rather than to action. +This is the development which India took +when these races inhabited the Punjaub. But +the ancient Persians were different. Their religion +included a morality which placed its essence in +right thinking and right action. A sentimental +religion, like that of India and of Italy, tends to +the adoration of saints and holy images and to +multiplied ceremonies. A moral religion, like +that of Persia, of Judea, and of the Teutonic races, +tends to the adoration and service of the unseen. +The Hindoos had innumerable gods, temples, idols. +The Persians worshiped the sacred fire, without +temple, priest, altar, sacrifice, or ritual. The ancient +Persians, wholly unlike the modern Persians, +were a people of action, energy, enterprise. But +when the old Persian empire fell, the character +of the people changed. Just as in Italy the old +Roman type disappeared, and was replaced by the +opposite in the modern Italian, so modern Persia +has swung round to the opposite pole of national +character. The Persians and Turks, both professing +the Mohammedan religion, belong to different +sects of that faith. The Turks are proud, tenacious +of old customs, grave in their demeanor, generally +just in their dealings, keeping their word. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +Persians, as they appear in the works of Malcolm +and Monier, are changeable, kindly, polite, given +to ceremonies, fond of poetry, with taste for fine +art and decoration,—a mobile people. The Turk +is silent, the Persian talkative. The Turk is proud +and cold, the Persian affable and full of sentiment. +In short, the Persian is the Frenchman, and the +Turk the Englishman. And here again, as in the +other cases, the French type of nationality unfolds +itself on the east, and the English on the west.</p> + +<p>These national doubles have not been exhausted. +We have other instances of twin nations, born of +much the same confluence of race elements, of +whom, as of Esau and Jacob, it might be predicted +to the mother race, "Two nations shall be born +of thee; two kinds of people shall go forth from +thee; and the one shall be stronger than the +other." Thus there are the twin races which inhabit +Sweden and Norway; the Swedes, on the +east, are more intelligent, quick-witted, and versatile; +the Norwegians, on the west, slow, persistent, +and disposed to foreign conquest and adventure, +as shown in the sea-kings, who discovered Iceland, +Greenland, and Vinland; and the modern +emigrants who reap the vast wheatfields of Minnesota. +So, too, we might speak of the Poles and +Germans. The Polish nation, on the east, resembling +the French; the German, on the west, the +English.</p> + +<p>But time will not allow me to carry out these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> +parallels into details. The question is, are these +mere coincidences, or do they belong to the homologons +of history, where the same law of progress +repeats itself under different conditions, as the skeleton +of the mammal is found in the whale. Such +curious homologons we find in national events, and +they can hardly be explained as accidental coincidences. +For instance, the English and French +revolutions proceeded by six identical steps. First, +an insurrection of the people. Secondly, the dethronement +and execution of the king. Thirdly, +a military usurper. Fourthly, the old line restored. +Fifthly, after the death of the restored king, his +brother succeeds to the throne. Sixthly, a second +revolution drives the brother into exile, and a constitutional +king of a collateral branch takes his +place.</p> + +<p>But if these doubles which I have described +come by some mysterious law of polar force, as in +the magnet, where the two kinds of electricity are +repelled to opposite poles, and yet attract each +other, how account for the regularity of the geographical +position? Why is the French, Greek, +Hindoo, Persian, Italian, Polish, Swedish type always +at the east, and the English, Roman, Iranic, +Ottoman, Spanish, German, Norwegian type always +at the west? Are nations, like tides, affected by +the diurnal revolution of the globe? This, I confess, +I am unable to explain; and I leave it to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> +others to consider whether what I have described +is pure coincidence, or if it belongs in some way +to the philosophy of history and comes under universal +law.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="DID SHAKESPEARE WRITE BACON'S WORKS"><a id="SHAKESPEARE">DID SHAKESPEARE WRITE BACON'S WORKS</a><a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">3</a></h2> + +<p>The greatest of English poets is Shakespeare. +The greatest prose writer in English literature is +probably Bacon. Each of these writers, alone, +is a marvel of intellectual grandeur. It is hard +to understand how one man, in a few years, could +have written all the masterpieces of Shakespeare,—thirty-six +dramas, each a work of genius such +as the world will never let die. It is a marvel +that from one mind could proceed the tender +charm of such poems as "Romeo and Juliet," +"As You Like It," or "The Winter's Tale;" +the wild romance of "The Tempest," or of "A +Midsummer Night's Dream;" the awful tragedies +of "Lear," "Macbeth," and "Othello;" the profound +philosophy of "Hamlet;" the perfect fun +of "Twelfth Night," and "The Merry Wives of +Windsor;" and the reproductions of Roman and +English history. It is another marvel that a man +like Bacon, immersed nearly all his life in business, +a successful lawyer, an ambitious statesman, +a courtier cultivating the society of the sovereign +and the favorites of the sovereign, should also be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +the founder of a new system of philosophy, which +has been the source of many inventions and new +sciences down to the present day; should have critically +surveyed the whole domain of knowledge, and +become a master of English literary style. Each +of these phenomena is a marvel; but put them +together, and assume that one man did it all, and +you have, not a marvel, but a miracle. Yet, this +is the result which the monistic tendency of modern +thought has reached. Several critics of our time +have attempted to show that Bacon, besides writing +all the works usually attributed to him, was also +the author of all of Shakespeare's plays and poems.</p> + +<p>This theory was first publicly maintained by +Miss Delia Bacon in 1857. It had been, before, +in 1856, asserted by an Englishman, William +Henry Smith, but only in a small volume printed +for private circulation. This book made a distinguished +convert in the person of Lord Palmerston, +who openly declared his conviction that Bacon was +the author of Shakespeare's plays. Two papers +by Appleton Morgan, written in the same sense, +appeared last year in "Appletons' Journal." But +far the most elaborate and masterly work in support +of this attempt to dethrone Shakespeare, and +to give his seat on the summit of Parnassus to +Lord Bacon, is the book by Judge Holmes, published +in 1866. He has shown much ability, and +brought forward every argument which has any +plausibility connected with it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> +Judge Holmes was, of course, obliged to admit +the extreme antecedent improbability of his position. +Certainly it is very difficult to believe that +the author of such immortal works should have +been willing, for any reason, permanently to conceal +his authorship; or, if he could hide that fact, +should have been willing to give the authorship +to another; or, if willing, should have been able +so effectually to conceal the substitution as to blind +the eyes of all mankind down to the days of Miss +Delia Bacon and Judge Holmes.</p> + +<p>What, then, are the arguments used by Judge +Holmes? The proofs he adduces are mainly these: +(1st) That there are many coincidences and parallelisms +of thought and expression between the +works of Bacon and Shakespeare; (2d) that there +is an amount of knowledge and learning in the +plays, which Lord Bacon possessed, but which +Shakespeare could hardly have had. Besides these +principal proofs, there are many other reasons +given which are of inferior weight,—a phrase in +a letter of Sir Tobie Matthew; another sentence +of Bacon himself, which might be possibly taken +as an admission that he was the author of "Richard +II.;" the fact that some plays which Shakespeare +certainly did not write were first published +with his name or his initials. But his chief argument +is that Shakespeare had neither the learning +nor the time to write the plays, both of which +Lord Bacon possessed; and that there are curious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> +coincidences between the plays and the prose +works.</p> + +<p>These arguments have all been answered, and +the world still believes in Shakespeare as before. +But I have thought it might be interesting to show +how easily another argument could be made of an +exactly opposite kind,—how easily all these proofs +might be reversed. I am inclined to think that if +we are to believe that one man was the author both +of the plays and of the philosophy, it is much more +probable that Shakespeare wrote the works of +Bacon than that Bacon wrote the works of Shakespeare. +For there is no evidence that Bacon was +a poet as well as a philosopher; but there is ample +evidence that Shakespeare was a philosopher as +well as a poet. This, no doubt, assumes that +Shakespeare actually wrote the plays; but this we +have a right to assume, in the outset of the discussion, +in order to stand on an equal ground with +our opponents.</p> + +<p>The Bacon vs. Shakespeare argument runs thus: +"Assuming that Lord Bacon wrote the works +commonly attributed to him, there is reason to +believe that he also wrote the plays and poems +commonly attributed to Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>The counter argument would then be: "Assuming +that Shakespeare wrote the plays, and +poems commonly attributed to him, there is reason +to believe that he also wrote the works commonly +attributed to Bacon."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> +This is clearly the fair basis of the discussion. +What is assumed on the one side on behalf of +Bacon we have a right to assume on the other on +behalf of Shakespeare. But before proceeding on +this basis, I must reply to the only argument of +Judge Holmes which has much apparent weight. +He contends that it was impossible for Shakespeare, +with the opportunities he possessed, to +acquire the knowledge which we find in the plays. +Genius, however great, cannot give the knowledge +of medical and legal terms, nor of the ancient +languages. Now, it has been shown that the plays +afford evidence of a great knowledge of law and +medicine; and of works in Latin and Greek, +French and Italian. How could such information +have been obtained by a boy who had no advantages +of study except at a country grammar +school, which he left at the age of fourteen, who +went to London at twenty-three and became an +actor, and who spent most of his life as actor, +theatrical proprietor, and man of business?</p> + +<p>This objection presents difficulties to us, and for +our time, when boys sometimes spend years in the +study of Latin grammar. We cannot understand +the rapidity with which all sorts of knowledge +were imbibed in the period of the Renaissance. +Then every one studied everything. Then Greek +and Latin books were read by prince and peasant, +by queens and generals. Then all sciences and +arts were learned by men and women, by young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> +and old. Thus speaks Robert Burton—who was +forty years old when Shakespeare died: "What +a world of books offers itself, in all subjects, arts +and sciences, to the sweet content and capacity of +the reader! In arithmetic, geometry, perspective, +opticks, astronomy, architecture, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">sculptura</i>, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">pictura</i>, +of which so many and elaborate treatises +have lately been written; in mechanics and their +mysteries, military matters, navigation, riding of +horses, fencing, swimming, gardening, planting, +great tomes of husbandry, cookery, faulconry, +hunting, fishing, fowling; with exquisite pictures +of all sports and games.... What vast tomes +are extant in law, physic, and divinity, for profit, +pleasure, practice.... Some take an infinite delight +to study the very languages in which these +books were written: Hebrew, Greek, Syriac, Chaldee, +Arabick, and the like." This was the fashion +of that day, to study all languages, all subjects, all +authors. A mind like that of Shakespeare could +not have failed to share this universal desire for +knowledge. After leaving the grammar school, he +had nine years for such studies before he went to +London. As soon as he began to write plays, he +had new motives for study; for the subjects of +the drama in vogue were often taken from classic +story.</p> + +<p>But Shakespeare had access to another source +of knowledge besides the study of books. When +he reached London, five or six play-houses were in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> +full activity, and new plays were produced every +year in vast numbers. New plays were then in +constant demand, just as the new novel and new +daily or weekly paper are called for now. The +drama was the periodical literature of the time. +Dramatic authors wrote with wonderful rapidity, +borrowing their subjects from plays already on the +stage, and from classic or recent history. Marlowe, +Greene, Lyly, Peele, Kyd, Lodge, Nash, +Chettle, Munday, Wilson, were all dramatic writers +before Shakespeare. Philip Henslowe, a manager +or proprietor of the theatres, bought two hundred +and seventy plays in about ten years. Thomas +Heywood wrote a part or the whole of two hundred +and twenty plays during his dramatic career. +Each acted play furnished material for some other. +They were the property of the play-houses, not of +the writers. One writer after another has accused +Shakespeare of indifference to his reputation, because +he did not publish a complete and revised +edition of his works during his life. How could +he do this, since they did not belong to him, but +to the theatre? Yet every writer was at full liberty +to make use of all he could remember of other +plays, as he saw them acted; and Shakespeare +was not slow to use this opportunity. No doubt +he gained knowledge in this way, which he afterward +employed much better than did the authors +from whom he took it.</p> + +<p>The first plays printed under Shakespeare's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> +name did not appear till he had been connected +with the stage eleven years. This gives time +enough for him to have acquired all the knowledge +to be found in his books. That he had read Latin +and Greek books we are told by Ben Jonson; +though that great scholar undervalued, as was +natural, Shakespeare's attainments in those languages.</p> + +<p>But Ben Jonson himself furnishes the best reply +to those who think that Shakespeare could not +have gained much knowledge of science or literature +because he did not go to Oxford or Cambridge. +What opportunities had Ben Jonson? +A bricklayer by trade, called back immediately +from his studies to use the trowel; then running +away and enlisting as a common soldier; fighting +in the Low Countries; coming home at nineteen, +and going on the stage; sent to prison for fighting +a duel—what opportunities for study had he? +He was of a strong animal nature, combative, in +perpetual quarrels, fond of drink, in pecuniary +troubles, married at twenty, with a wife and children +to support. Yet Jonson was celebrated for +his learning. He was master of Greek and Latin +literature. He took his characters from Athenæus, +Libanius, Philostratus. Somehow he had found +time for all this study. "Greek and Latin thought," +says Taine, "were incorporated with his own, and +made a part of it. He knew alchemy, and was as +familiar with alembics, retorts, crucibles, etc., as if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> +he had passed his life in seeking the philosopher's +stone. He seems to have had a specialty in every +branch of knowledge. He had all the methods +of Latin art,—possessed the brilliant conciseness +of Seneca and Lucan." If Ben Jonson—a bricklayer, +a soldier, a fighter, a drinker—could yet find +time to acquire this vast knowledge, is there any +reason why Shakespeare, with much more leisure, +might not have done the like? He did not possess +as much Greek and Latin lore as Ben Jonson, +who, probably, had Shakespeare in his mind when +he wrote the following passage in his "Poetaster:"</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"His learning savors not the school-like gloss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That most consists in echoing words and terms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soonest wins a man an empty name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor any long or far-fetched circumstance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrapt in the curious generalties of art—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a direct and analytic sum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the worth and first effects of art.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for his poesy, ’tis so rammed with life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it shall gather strength of life with being,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And live hereafter more admired than now."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The only other serious proof offered in support +of the proposition that Bacon wrote the immortal +Shakespearean drama is that certain coincidences +of thought and language are found in the works of +the two writers. When we examine them, however, +they seem very insignificant. Take, as an +example, two or three, on which Judge Holmes +relies, and which he thinks very striking.</p> + +<p>Holmes says (page 48) that Bacon quotes Aristotle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> +who said that "young men were no fit hearers +of moral philosophy," and Shakespeare says +("Troilus and Cressida"):—</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Unlike young men whom Aristotle thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unfit to hear moral philosophy."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">But since Bacon's remark was published in 1605, +and "Troilus and Cressida" did not appear until +1609, Shakespeare might have seen it there, and +introduced it into his play from his recollection of +the passage in the "Advancement of Learning."</p> + +<p>Another coincidence mentioned by Holmes is +that both writers use the word "thrust:" Bacon +saying that a ship "thrust into Weymouth;" and +Shakespeare, that "Milan was thrust from Milan." +He also thinks it cannot be an accident that both +frequently use the word "wilderness," though in +very different ways. Both also compare Queen +Elizabeth to a "star." Bacon makes Atlantis an +island in mid-ocean; and the island of Prospero is +also in mid-ocean. Both have a good deal to say +about "mirrors," and "props," and like phrases.</p> + +<p>Such reasoning as this has very little weight. +You cannot prove two contemporaneous writings +to have proceeded from one author by the same +words and phrases being found in both; for these +are in the vocabulary of the time, and are the common +property of all who read and write.</p> + +<p>My position is that if either of these writers +wrote the works attributed to the other, it is much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> +more likely that Shakespeare wrote the philosophical +works of Bacon than that Bacon wrote the +poetical works of Shakespeare. Assuming then, +as we have a right to do in this argument, that +Shakespeare wrote the plays, what reasons are there +for believing that he also wrote the philosophy?</p> + +<p>First, this assumption will explain at once that +hitherto insoluble problem of the contradiction +between Bacon's character and conduct and his +works. How could he have been, at the same +time, what Pope calls <span class="locked">him,—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind"?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">He was, in his philosophy, the leader of his age, +the reformer of old abuses, the friend of progress. +In his conduct, he was, as Macaulay has shown, +"far behind his age,—far behind Sir Edward +Coke; clinging to exploded abuses, withstanding +the progress of improvement, struggling to push +back the human mind." In his writings, he was +calm, dignified, noble. In his life, he was an +office-seeker through long years, seeking place by +cringing subservience to men in power, made +wretched to the last degree when office was denied +him, addressing servile supplications to noblemen +and to the sovereign. To gain and keep office he +would desert his friends, attack his benefactors, +and make abject apologies for any manly word he +might have incautiously uttered. His philosophy +rose far above earth and time, and sailed supreme<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> +in the air of universal reason. But "his desires +were set on things below. Wealth, precedence, +titles, patronage, the mace, the seals, the coronet, +large houses, fair gardens, rich manors, massy services +of plate, gay hangings," were "objects for +which he stooped to everything and endured everything." +These words of Macaulay have been +thought too severe. But we defy any admirer of +Bacon to read his life, by Spedding, without admitting +their essential truth. How was it possible +for a man to spend half of his life in the meanest +of pursuits, and the other half in the noblest?</p> + +<p>This difficulty is removed if we suppose that +Bacon, the courtier and lawyer, with his other +ambitions, was desirous of the fame of a great philosopher; +and that he induced Shakespeare, then +in the prime of his powers, to help him write the +prose essays and treatises which are his chief +works. He has himself admitted that he did actually +ask the aid of the dramatists of his time in +writing his books. This remarkable fact is stated +by Bacon in a letter to Tobie Matthew, written in +June, 1623, in which he says that he is devoting +himself to making his writings more perfect—instancing +the "Essays" and the "Advancement +of Learning"—"by the help of some good pens, +which forsake me not." One of these pens was +that of Ben Jonson, the other might easily have +been that of Shakespeare. Certainly there was no +better pen in England at that time than his.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> +When Shakespeare's plays were being produced, +Lord Bacon was fully occupied in his law practice, +his parliamentary duties, and his office-seeking. +The largest part of the Shakespeare drama was put +on the stage, as modern research renders probable, +in the ten or twelve years beginning with 1590. In +1597 Shakespeare was rich enough to buy the new +place at Stratford-on-Avon, and was also lending +money. In 1604 he was part owner of the Globe +Theatre, so that the majority of the plays which +gained for him this fortune must have been produced +before that time. Now, these were just the +busiest years of Bacon's life. In 1584 he was +elected to Parliament. About the same time, he +wrote his famous letter to Queen Elizabeth. In +1585 he was already seeking office from Walsingham +and Burleigh. In 1586 he sat in Parliament +for Taunton, and was active in debate and on committees. +He became a bencher in the same year, +and began to plead in the courts of Westminster. +In 1589 he became queen's counsel, and member +of Parliament for Liverpool. After this he continued +active, both in Parliament and at the bar. +He sought, by the help of Essex, to become Attorney-General. +From that period, as crown lawyer, +his whole time and thought were required to trace +and frustrate the conspiracies with which the kingdom +was full. It was evident that during these +years he had no time to compose fifteen or twenty +of the greatest works in any literature.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> +But how was Shakespeare occupied when Bacon's +philosophy appeared? The "Advancement of +Learning" was published in 1605, after most of +the plays had been written, as we learn from the +fact of Shakespeare's purchase of houses and +lands. The "Novum Organum" was published in +1620, after Shakespeare's death. But it had been +written years before; revised, altered, and copied +again and again—it is said twelve times. Bacon +had been engaged upon it during thirty years, and +it was at last published incomplete and in fragments. +If Shakespeare assisted in the composition +of this work, his death in 1616 would account, +at once, for its being left unfinished. And Shakespeare +would have had ample time to furnish the +ideas of the "Organum" in the last years of his +life, when he had left the theatre. In 1613 he +bought a house in Black Friars, where Ben Jonson +also lived. Might not this have been that they +might more conveniently coöperate in assisting +Bacon to write the "Novum Organum"?</p> + +<p>When we ask whether it would have been easier +for the author of the philosophy to have composed +the drama, or the dramatic poet to have written +the philosophy, the answer will depend on which +is the greater work of the two. The greater includes +the less, but the less cannot include the +greater. Now, the universal testimony of modern +criticism in England, Germany, and France declares +that no larger, deeper, or ampler intellect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> +has ever appeared than that which produced the +Shakespeare drama. This "myriad-minded" poet +was also philosopher, man of the world, acquainted +with practical affairs, one of those who saw the +present and foresaw the future. All the ideas of +the Baconian philosophy might easily have had +their home in this vast intelligence. Great as +are the thoughts of the "Novum Organum," they +are far inferior to that world of thought which is +in the drama. We can easily conceive that Shakespeare, +having produced in his prime the wonders +and glories of the plays, should in his after leisure +have developed the leading ideas of the Baconian +philosophy. But it is difficult to imagine that +Bacon, while devoting his main strength to politics, +to law, and to philosophy, should as a mere +pastime for his leisure, have produced in his idle +moments the greatest intellectual work ever done +on earth.</p> + +<p>If the greater includes the less, the mind of +Shakespeare includes that of Bacon, and not <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice +versa</i>. This will appear more plainly if we consider +the quality of intellect displayed respectively +in the dramas and the philosophy. The one is +synthetic, creative; the other analytic, critical. +The one puts together, the other takes apart and +examines. Now, the genius which can put together +can also take apart; but it by no means +follows that the power of taking apart implies that +of putting together. A watch-maker, who can put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> +a watch together, can easily take it to pieces; but +many a child who has taken his watch to pieces +has found it impossible to put it together again.</p> + +<p>When we compare the Shakespeare plays and +the Baconian philosophy, it is curious to see how +the one is throughout a display of the synthetic +intellect, and the other of the analytic. The plays +are pure creation, the production of living wholes. +They people our thought with a race of beings +who are living persons, and not pale abstractions. +These airy nothings take flesh and form, and have +a name and local habitation forever on the earth. +Hamlet, Desdemona, Othello, Miranda, are as real +people as Queen Elizabeth or Mary of Scotland. +But when we turn to the Baconian philosophy, this +faculty is absent. We have entered the laboratory +of a great chemist, and are surrounded by retorts +and crucibles, tests and re-agents, where the work +done is a careful analysis of all existing things, to +find what are their constituents and their qualities. +Poetry creates, philosophy takes to pieces and examines.</p> + +<p>It is, I think, a historic fact, that while those +authors whose primary quality is poetic genius +have often been also, on a lower plane, eminent +as philosophers, there is, perhaps, not a single +instance of one whose primary distinction was +philosophic analysis, who has also been, on a +lower plane, eminent as a poet. Milton, Petrarch, +Goethe, Lucretius, Voltaire, Coleridge, were primarily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +and eminently poets; but all excelled, too, +in a less degree, as logicians, metaphysicians, men +of science, and philosophers. But what instance +have we of any man like Bacon, chiefly eminent +as lawyer, statesman, and philosopher, who was +also distinguished, though in a less degree, as a +poet? Among great lawyers, is there one eminent +also as a dramatic or lyric author? Cicero tried +it, but his verses are only doggerel. In Lord +Campbell's list of the lord chancellors and chief +justices of England no such instance appears. If +Bacon wrote the Shakespeare drama, he is the one +exception to an otherwise universal rule. But if +Shakespeare coöperated in the production of the +Baconian philosophy, he belongs to a class of poets +who have done the same. Coleridge was one of +the most imaginative of poets. His "Christabel" +and "Ancient Mariner" are pure creations. But +in later life he originated a new system of philosophy +in England, the influence of which has not +ceased to be felt to our day. The case would be +exactly similar if we suppose that Shakespeare, +having ranged the realm of imaginative poetry in +his youth, had in his later days of leisure coöperated +with Bacon and Ben Jonson in producing +the "Advancement of Learning" and the "Novum +Organum." We can easily think of them +as meeting, sometimes at the house of Ben Jonson, +sometimes at that of Shakespeare in Black Friars, +and sometimes guests at that private house built<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> +by Lord Bacon for purposes of study, near his +splendid palace of Gorhambury. "A most ingeniously +contrived house," says Basil Montagu, +"where, in the society of his philosophical friends, +he devoted himself to study and meditation." +Aubrey tells us that he had the aid of Hobbes in +writing down his thoughts. Lord Bacon appears to +have possessed the happy gift of using other men's +faculties in his service. Ben Jonson, who had +been a thorough student of chemistry, alchemy, +and science in all the forms then known, aided +Bacon in his observations of nature. Hobbes +aided him in giving clearness to his thoughts +and his language. And from Shakespeare he may +have derived the radical and central ideas of his +philosophy. He used the help of Dr. Playfer to +translate his philosophy into Latin. Tobie Matthew +gives him the last argument of Galileo for +the Copernican system. He sends his works to +others, begging them to correct the thoughts and +the style. It is evident, then, that he would have +been glad of the concurrence of Shakespeare, and +that could easily be had, through their common +friend, Ben Jonson.</p> + +<p>If Bacon wrote the plays of Shakespeare, it is +difficult to give any satisfactory reason for his concealment +of that authorship. He had much pride, +not to say vanity, in being known as an author. +He had his name attached to all his other works, +and sent them as presents to the universities, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> +to individuals, with letters calling their attention +to these books. Would he have been willing permanently +to conceal the fact of his being the author +of the best poetry of his time? The reasons assigned +by Judge Holmes for this are not satisfactory. +They are: his desire to rise in the profession +of the law, the low reputation of a play-writer, his +wish to write more freely under an incognito, and +his wish to rest his reputation on his philosophical +works. But if he were reluctant to be regarded +as the author of "Lear" and "Hamlet," he was +willing to be known as the writer of "Masques," +and a play about "Arthur," exhibited by the students +of Gray's Inn. It is an error to say that +the reputation of a play-writer was low. Judge +Holmes, himself, tells us that there was nothing +remarkable in a barrister of the inns of court writing +for the stage. Ford and Beaumont were both +lawyers as well as eminent play-writers. Lord +Backhurst, Lord Brooke, Sir Henry Wotton, all +wrote plays. And we find nothing in the Shakespeare +dramas which Bacon need have feared to +say under his own name. It would have been +ruin to Sir Philip Francis to have avowed himself +the author of "Junius." But the Shakespeare +plays satirized no one, and made no enemies. If +there were any reasons for concealment, they certainly +do not apply to the year 1623, when the +first folio appeared, which was after the death +of Shakespeare and the fall of Bacon. The acknowledgment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> +of their authorship at that time +could no longer interfere with Bacon's rise. And +it would be very little to the credit of his intelligence +to assume that he was not then aware of the +value of such works, or that he did not desire +the reputation of being their author. It would +have been contrary to his very nature not to have +wished for the credit of that authorship.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, there would be nothing +surprising in the fact of Shakespeare's laying no +claim to credit for having assisted in the composition +of the "Advancement of Learning." Shakespeare +was by nature as reticent and modest as +Bacon was egotistical and ostentatious. What +a veil is drawn over the poet's personality in his +sonnets! We read in them his inmost sentiments, +but they tell us absolutely nothing of the events of +his life, or the facts of his position. And if, as +we assume, he was one among several who helped +Lord Bacon, though he might have done the most, +there was no special reason why he should proclaim +that fact.</p> + +<p>Gervinus has shown, in three striking pages, the +fundamental harmony between the ideas and mental +tendencies of Shakespeare and Bacon. Their +philosophy of man and of life was the same. If, +then, Bacon needed to be helped in thinking out +his system, there was no one alive who would have +given him such stimulus and encouragement as +Shakespeare. This also may explain his not mentioning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> +the name of Shakespeare in his works; +for that might have called too much attention to +the source from which he received this important +aid.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, I regard the monistic theory as in +the last degree improbable. We have two great +authors, and not one only. But if we are compelled +to accept the view which ascribes a common +source to the Shakespeare drama and the Baconian +philosophy, I think there are good reasons for +preferring Shakespeare to Bacon as the author +of both. When the plays appeared, Bacon was +absorbed in pursuits and ambitions foreign to such +work; his accepted writings show no sign of such +creative power; he was the last man in the world +not to take the credit of such a success, and had +no motive to conceal his authorship. On the other +hand, there was a period in Shakespeare's life +when he had abundant leisure to coöperate in the +literary plans of Bacon; his ample intellect was +full of the ideas which took form in those works; +and he was just the person neither to claim nor to +desire any credit for lending such assistance.</p> + +<p>There is, certainly, every reason to believe that, +among his other ambitions, Bacon desired that of +striking out a new path of discovery, and initiating +a better method in the study of nature. But +we know that, in doing this, he sought aid in +all quarters, and especially among Shakespeare's +friends and companions. It is highly probable,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> +therefore, that he became acquainted with the +great dramatist, and that Shakespeare knew of +Bacon's designs and became interested in them. +And if so, who could offer better suggestions than +he; and who would more willingly accept them +than the overworked statesman and lawyer, who +wished to be also a philosopher?</p> + +<p>Finally, we may refer those who believe that the +shape of the brow and head indicates the quality +of mental power to the portraits of the two men. +The head of Shakespeare, according to all the +busts and pictures which remain to us, belongs +to the type which antiquity has transmitted to us +in the portraits of Homer and Plato. In this vast +dome of thought there was room for everything. +The head of Bacon is also a grand one, but less +ample, less complete—less</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem" xml:lang="la" lang="la"> +<span class="i0q">"Teres, totus atque rotundus."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">These portraits therefore agree with all we know +of the writings, in showing us which, and which +only, of the two minds was capable of containing +the other.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT POEM"><a id="EVOLUTION">THE EVOLUTION OF A GREAT POEM</a><a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">4</a></h2> + +<p>There are at least three existing manuscripts +of Grays "Elegy," in the author's autograph. +The earliest, containing the largest number of +variations and the most curious, is that now in the +possession of Sir William Fraser in London, and +for which he paid the large sum of £230, in 1875. +By the kindness of Sir William Fraser, I examined +this manuscript at his rooms in London, in 1882. +A facsimile copy of this valuable autograph, photographed +from the original in 1862, is now before +me. A second copy in the handwriting of Gray, +called the Pembroke manuscript, is in the library +of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge. A facsimile of +this autograph appears in Matthias's edition of +Mason's "Gray," published in 1814. A third +copy, in the poet's handwriting, copied by him for +his friend, Dr. Wharton, is in the British Museum. +I examined this, also, in 1882, and had an accurate +copy made for me by one of the assistants +in the museum. This was written after the other +two, as is evident from the fact that it approaches +most nearly to the form which the "Elegy" finally +assumed when printed. There are only nine or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> +ten expressions in this manuscript which differ +from the poem as published by Gray. Most of +these are unimportant. "<em>Or</em>" he changed, in +three places, into "and." "<em>And</em> in our ashes" +he changed into "Even in our ashes," which was +a clear improvement. It was not until after this +third copy was written that the improvement was +made which changed</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Forgive, ye Proud, the involuntary Fault,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Memory to These no Trophies raise,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">into</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">Another important alteration of a single word was +also made after this third manuscript was written. +This was the change, in the forty-fifth stanza, of +"Reins of Empire" into "Rod of Empire."</p> + +<p>"The Elegy in a Country Churchyard" became +at once one of the most popular poems in the +language, and has remained so to this time. It +has been equally a favorite with common readers, +with literary men, and with poets. Its place will +always be in the highest rank of English poetry. +The fact, however, is—and it is a very curious +fact—that this first-class poem was the work of a +third-class poet. For Thomas Gray certainly does +not stand in the first class with Shakespeare, +Spenser, and Milton. Nor can he fairly be put in +the second class with Dryden, Pope, Burns, Wordsworth, +and Byron. He belongs to the third, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +Cowley, Cowper, Shelley, and Keats. There may +be a doubt concerning some of whom I have +named, but there can be no doubt that Gray will +never stand higher than those who may be placed +by critics in the third class. Yet it is equally +certain that he has produced a first-class poem. +How is this paradox to be explained?</p> + +<p>What is the charm of Gray's "Elegy"? The +thoughts are sufficiently commonplace. That all +men must die, that the most humble may have had +in them some power which, under other circumstances, +might have made them famous,—these +are somewhat trite statements; but the fascination +of the verses consists in the tone, solemn but +serene, which pervades them; in the pictures of +coming night, of breaking day, of cheerful rural +life, of happy homes; and lastly, in the perfect +finish of the verse and the curious felicity of the +diction. In short, the poem is a work of high art. +It was not inspired, but it was carefully elaborated. +And this appears plainly when we compare +it, as it stands in the Fraser manuscript, with +its final form.</p> + +<p>This poem was a work of eight years. Its heading +in the Fraser manuscript is "Stanzas Wrote +in a Country Churchyard." It was, however, begun +at Stoke in 1742, continued at Cambridge, +and had its last touches added at Stoke-Pogis, +June 12, 1750. In a letter to Horace Walpole of +that date, Gray says, "Having put an end to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> +thing whose beginning you saw long ago, I immediately +send it to you."</p> + +<p>The corrections made by Gray during this +period were many, and were probably all improvements. +Many poets when they try to improve +their verses only injure them. But Gray's corrections +were invariably for the better. We may +even say that, if it had been published as it was +first written, and as it now stands in the Fraser +manuscript, it would have ranked only with the +best poetry of Shenstone or Cowper. Let me +indicate some of the most important changes.</p> + +<p>In line seventeen, the fine epithet of "incense-breathing" +was an addition.</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">for the Fraser manuscript <span class="locked">reads—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Forever sleep. The breezy call of morn."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">Nineteenth line, Fraser manuscript <span class="locked">has—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Or chanticleer so shrill, or echoing horn,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">corrected to</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Twenty-fourth—"Coming kiss" was corrected +to "envied kiss."</p> + +<p>Forty-third—"Awake the silent dust" was +corrected to "provoke the silent dust."</p> + +<p>Forty-seventh—The correction of "Reins of +Empire" to "Rod of Empire" first appears in +the margin of the Pembroke manuscript.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> +Fifty-seventh—In the Fraser manuscript it +<span class="locked">reads—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Some village Cato, who with dauntless breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some mute, inglorious Tully here may rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some Cæsar," etc.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">In the Pembroke manuscript, these classical personages +have disappeared, and the great improvement +was made of substituting Hampden, Milton, +and Cromwell, and thus maintaining the English +coloring of the poem.</p> + +<p>Fifty-first—This verse, beginning, "But Knowledge," +etc., was placed, in the Fraser manuscript, +after the one beginning, "Some village Cato," but +with a note in the margin to transfer it to where +it now stands. The third line of the stanza was +first written, "Chill Penury had damped." This +was first corrected to "depressed," and afterward +to "repressed."</p> + +<p>Fifty-fifth—"Their fate forbade," changed to +"Their lot forbade."</p> + +<p>Sixty-sixth—"Their struggling virtues" was +improved to "Their growing virtues."</p> + +<p>Seventy-first—"Crown the shrine" was altered +to "heap the shrine," and in the next line "Incense +hallowed by the muse's flame" was wisely +changed to "Incense kindled by the muse's flame."</p> + +<p>After the seventy-second line stand, in the +Fraser manuscript, the following stanzas, which +Gray, with admirable taste, afterward omitted. +But, before he decided to leave them out altogether,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> +he drew a black line down the margin, +indicating that he would transfer them to another +place. These stanzas were originally intended to +close the poem. Afterward the thought occurred +to him of "the hoary-headed swain" and the +"Epitaph."</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"The thoughtless World to Majesty may bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Exalt the Brave and idolize Success,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But more to Innocence their safety owe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than Power and Genius e'er conspire to bless.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"And thou, who, mindful of the unhonored Dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dost, in these Notes, their artless Tale relate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Night and lonely Contemplation led<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To linger in the gloomy Walks of Fate;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"Hark, how the sacred Calm that broods around<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bids every fierce, tumultuous Passion cease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In still, small Accents whispering from the Ground<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A grateful Earnest of eternal Peace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"No more with Reason and thyself at Strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give anxious Cares and useless Wishes room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But through the cool, sequestered Vale of Life<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pursue the silent Tenor of thy Doom."<br /></span> +</div> +</div></div> + +<p>After these stanzas, according to the Fraser +manuscript, were to follow these lines, which I do +not remember to have seen <span class="locked">elsewhere:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"If chance that e'er some pensive Spirit more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By sympathetic Musings here delayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With vain though kind Enquiry shall explore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy once-loved Haunt, thy long-neglected Shade,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"Haply," etc.<br /></span> +</div> +</div></div> + +<p>But Gray soon dispensed with this feeble stanza,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> +and made a new one by changing it into the one +<span class="locked">beginning:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"For thee, who mindful."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">The ninety-ninth and one hundredth lines stand in +the Fraser <span class="locked">manuscript—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"With hasty footsteps brush the dews away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the high brow of yonder hanging lawn."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The following stanza is noticeable for the inversions +so frequent in Gray, and which he had, +perhaps, unconsciously adopted from his familiarity +with the classics. He afterward omitted <span class="locked">it:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Him have we seen the greenwood side along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While o'er the heath we hied, our labors done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft as the wood-lark piped her farewell song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With wistful eyes pursue the setting sun."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">In the manuscript the word is spelled "whistful." +In line 101, "hoary beech" is corrected to "spreading +beech," and afterward to "nodding beech."</p> + +<p>Line 113—"Dirges meet" was changed to +"dirges dire;" and after 116 came the beautiful +stanza, afterward omitted by Gray as being <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">de trop</i> +in this <span class="locked">place:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"There, scattered oft, the earliest of the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By hands unseen, are showers of violets found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The redbreast loves to build and warble there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And little footsteps lightly print the ground."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">Even in this verse there were two corrections. +"Robin" was altered in the Fraser manuscript +into "redbreast," and "frequent violets" into +"showers of violets."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> +One of the most curious accidents to which this +famous poem has been subjected was an erroneous +change made in the early editions, which has been +propagated almost to our time. In the stanza <span class="locked">beginning—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Power,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">Gray wrote</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Awaits alike the inevitable Hour."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">And so it stands in all three manuscripts, and in +the printed edition which he himself superintended. +His meaning was, "The inevitable Hour awaits +everything. It stands there, waiting the boast +of Heraldry," etc. But his editors, misled by his +inverted style, supposed that it was the gifts of +Heraldry, Power, Beauty, etc., that were waiting, +and therefore corrected what they thought Gray's +bad grammar, and printed the word "await." But +so they destroyed the meaning. These things were +not waiting at all for the dread hour; they were +enjoying themselves, careless of its approach. +But "the hour" was waiting for them. Gray's +original reading has been restored in the last +editions.</p> + +<p>In tracing the development of this fine poem, we +see it gradually improving under his careful touch, +till it becomes a work of high art. In some poets—Wordsworth, +for example—inspiration is at +its maximum, and art at its minimum. In Gray, +I think, inspiration was at its minimum, and art at +its maximum.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="RELIGIOUS_AND_PHILOSOPHICAL" id="RELIGIOUS_AND_PHILOSOPHICAL"> +<span class="larger">RELIGIOUS AND PHILOSOPHICAL</span></a></h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2 title="AFFINITIES OF BUDDHISM AND CHRISTIANITY"><a id="AFFINITIES">AFFINITIES OF BUDDHISM AND CHRISTIANITY</a><a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">5</a></h2> + +<p>It has long been known that many analogies +exist between Buddhism and Christianity. The +ceremonies, ritual, and rites of the Buddhists strikingly +resemble those of the Roman Catholic Church. +The Buddhist priests are monks. They take the +same three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience +which are binding on those of the Roman Church. +They are mendicants, like the mendicant orders of +St. Francis and St. Dominic. They are tonsured; +use strings of beads, like the rosary, with which to +count their prayers; have incense and candles in +their worship; use fasts, processions, litanies, and +holy water. They have something akin to the +adoration of saints; repeat prayers in an unknown +tongue; have a chanted psalmody with a double +choir; and suspend the censer from five chains. +In China, some Buddhists worship the image of a +virgin, called the Queen of Heaven, having an +infant in her arms, and holding a cross. In Thibet +the Grand Lamas wear a mitre, dalmatica, and +cope, and pronounce a benediction on the laity by +extending the right hand over their heads. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> +Dalai-Lama resembles the Pope, and is regarded +as the head of the Church. The worship of relics +is very ancient among the Buddhists, and so are +pilgrimages to sacred places.</p> + +<p>Besides these resemblances in outward ceremonies, +more important ones appear in the inner life +and history of the two religions. Both belong to +those systems which derive their character from a +human founder, and not from a national tendency; +to the class which contains the religions of Moses, +Zoroaster, Confucius, and Mohammed, and not to +that in which the Brahmanical, Egyptian, Scandinavian, +Greek, and Roman religions are found. +Both Buddhism and Christianity are catholic, and +not ethnic; that is, not confined to a single race +or nation, but by their missionary spirit passing +beyond these boundaries, and making converts +among many races. Christianity began among the +Jews as a Semitic religion, but, being rejected by +the Jewish nation, established itself among the +Aryan races of Europe. In the same way Buddhism, +beginning among an Aryan people—the +Hindoos—was expelled from Hindostan, and established +itself among the Mongol races of Eastern +Asia. Besides its resemblances to the Roman +Catholic side of Christendom, Buddhism has still +closer analogies with the Protestant Church. Like +Protestantism, it is a reform, which rejects a hierarchal +system and does away with a priestly caste. +Like Protestantism, it has emphasized the purely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> +humane side of life, and is a religion of humanity +rather than of piety. Both the Christian and Buddhist +churches teach a divine incarnation, and both +worship a God-man.</p> + +<p>Are these remarkable analogies only casual resemblances, +or are they real affinities? By affinity +we here mean genetic relationship. Are Buddhism +and Christianity related as mother and child, one +being derived from the other; or are they related by +both being derived from some common ancestor? Is +either derived from the other, as Christianity from +Judaism, or Protestantism from the Papal Church? +That there can be no such affinity as this seems +evident from history. History shows no trace of +the contact which would be required for such influence. +If Christianity had taken its customs from +Buddhism, or Buddhism from Christianity, there +must have been ample historic evidence of the fact. +But, instead of this, history shows that each has +grown up by its own natural development, and has +unfolded its qualities separately and alone. The +law of evolution also teaches that such great systems +do not come from imitation, but as growths from a +primal germ.</p> + +<p>Nor does history give the least evidence of a common +ancestry from which both took their common +traits. We know that Buddhism was derived from +Brahmanism, and that Christianity was derived +from Judaism. Now, Judaism and Brahmanism +have few analogies; they could not, therefore, have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> +transmitted to their offspring what they did not +themselves possess. Brahmanism came from an +Aryan stock, in Central Asia; Judaism from a +Semitic stem, thousands of miles to the west. If +Buddhism and Christianity came from a common +source, that source must have antedated both the +Mosaic and Brahmanical systems. Even then it +would be a case of atavism in which the original +type disappeared in the children, to reappear in the +later descendants.</p> + +<p>Are, then, these striking resemblances, and others +which are still to be mentioned, only accidental +analogies? This does not necessarily follow; for +there is a third alternative. They may be what +are called in science homologies; that is, the same +law working out similar results under the same +conditions, though under different circumstances. +The whale lives under different circumstances from +other mammalia; but being a mammal, he has a +like osseous structure. What seems to be a fin, +being dissected, turns out to be an arm, with hand +and fingers. There are like homologies in history. +Take the instance of the English and French revolutions. +In each case the legitimate king was +tried, condemned, and executed. A republic followed. +The republic gave way before a strong-handed +usurper. Then the original race of kings +was restored; but, having learned nothing and forgotten +nothing, they were displaced a second time, +and a constitutional monarch placed on the throne,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> +who, though not the legitimate king, still belonged +to the same race. Here the same laws of human +nature have worked out similar results; for no one +would suggest that France had copied its revolutions +from England. And, in religion, human nature +reproduces similar customs and ceremonies +under like conditions. When, for instance, you +have a mechanical system of prayer, in which the +number of prayers is of chief importance, there +must be some way of counting them, and so the +rosary has been invented independently in different +religions. We have no room to point out how +this law has worked in other instances; but it is +enough to refer to the principle.</p> + +<p>Besides these resemblances between Buddhism +and Christianity, there are also some equally remarkable +differences, which should be noticed.</p> + +<p>The first of these is the striking fact that Buddhism +has been unable to recognize the existence of +the Infinite Being. It has been called atheism by +the majority of the best authorities. Even Arthur +Lillie, who defends this system from the charge of +agnosticism, <span class="locked">says:<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">6</a></span> "An agnostic school of Buddhism +without doubt exists. It professes plain atheism, +and holds that every mortal, when he escapes +from re-births, and the causation of Karma by the +awakenment of the Bodhi or gnosis, will be annihilated. +This Buddhism, by Eugène Burnouf, +Saint-Hilaire, Max Müller, Csoma de Körös, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +I believe, almost every writer of note, is pronounced +the original Buddhism,—the Buddhism +of the South." Almost every writer of note, +therefore, who has studied Buddhism in the Pâli, +Singhalese, Chinese, and other languages, and has +had direct access to its original sources, has pronounced +it a system of atheism. But this opinion +is opposed to the fact that Buddhists have everywhere +worshiped unseen and superhuman powers, +erected magnificent temples, maintained an elaborate +ritual, and adored Buddha as the supreme +ruler of the worlds. How shall we explain this +paradox? All depends on the definition we give +to the word "atheism." If a system is atheistic +which sees only the temporal, and not the eternal; +which knows no God as the author, creator, and +ruler of Nature; which ascribes the origin of the +universe to natural causes, to which only the finite +is knowable, and the infinite unknowable—then +Buddhism is atheism. But, in that case, much +of the polytheism of the world must be regarded +as atheism; for polytheism has largely worshiped +finite gods. The whole race of Olympian deities +were finite beings. Above them ruled the everlasting +necessity of things. But who calls the +Greek worshipers atheists? The Buddha, to most +Buddhists, is a finite being, one who has passed +through numerous births, has reached Nirvana, and +will one day be superseded by another Buddha. +Yet, for the time, he is the Supreme Being, Ruler<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> +of all the Worlds. He is the object of worship, +and really divine, if in a subordinate sense.</p> + +<p>I would not, therefore, call this religion atheism. +No religion which worships superhuman powers +can justly be called atheistic on account of its +meagre metaphysics. How many Christians there +are who do not fully realize the infinite and eternal +nature of the Deity! To many He is no more than +the Buddha is to his worshipers,—a supreme being, +a mighty ruler, governing all things by his +will. How few see God everywhere in nature, as +Jesus saw Him, letting his sun shine on the evil and +good, and sending his rain on the just and unjust. +How few see Him in all of life, so that not a sparrow +dies, or a single hair of the head falls, without +the Father. Most Christians recognize the Deity +only as occasionally interfering by special providences, +particular judgments, and the like.</p> + +<p>But in Christianity this ignorance of the eternal +nature of God is the exception, while in Buddhism +it is the rule. In the reaction against Brahmanism, +the Brahmanic faith in the infinite was lost. +In the fully developed system of the ancient Hindoo +religion the infinite overpowered the finite, the +temporal world was regarded as an illusion, and +only the eternal was real. The reaction from this +extreme was so complete as to carry the Buddhists +to the exact opposite. If to the Brahman all the +finite visible world was only <i>maya</i>—illusion, to +the Buddhists all the infinite unseen world was unknowable, +and practically nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> +Perhaps the most original feature of Christianity +is the fact that it has combined in a living synthesis +that which in other systems was divided. +Jesus regarded love to God and love to man as +identical,—positing a harmonious whole of time +and eternity, piety and humanity, faith and works,—and +thus laid the foundation of a larger system +than either Brahmanism or Buddhism. He did +not invent piety, nor discover humanity. Long +before he came the Brahmanic literature had +sounded the deepest depths of spiritual life, and +the Buddhist missionaries had preached universal +benevolence to mankind. But the angelic hymn +which foretold the new religion as bringing at once +"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, +good will to men" indicated the essence of the +faith which was at the same time a heavenly love +and an earthly blessing. This difference of result +in the two systems came probably from the different +methods of their authors. With Jesus life was +the source of knowledge; the life was the light of +men. With the Buddha, reflection, meditation, +thought was the source of knowledge. In this, +however, he included intuition no less than reflection. +Sakya-muni understood perfectly that a mere +intellectual judgment possessed little motive power; +therefore he was not satisfied till he had obtained +an intuitive perception of truth. That alone gave +at once rest and power. But as the pure intellect, +even in its highest act, is unable to grasp<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +the infinite, the Buddha was an agnostic on this +side of his creed by the very success of his method. +Who, by searching, can find out God? The infinite +can only be known by the process of living +experience. This was the method of Jesus, and +has been that of his religion. For what is faith +but that receptive state of mind which waits on +the Lord to receive the illumination which it cannot +create by its own processes? However this +may be, it is probable that the fatal defect in +Buddhism which has neutralized its generous philanthropy +and its noble humanities has been the +absence of the inspiration which comes from the +belief in an eternal world. Man is too great to be +satisfied with time alone, or eternity alone; he +needs to live from and for both. Hence, Buddhism +is an arrested religion, while Christianity is +progressive. Christianity has shown the capacity +of outgrowing its own defects and correcting its +own mistakes. For example, it has largely outgrown +its habit of persecuting infidels and heretics. +No one is now put to death for heresy. It +has also passed out of the stage in which religion +is considered to consist in leaving the world and +entering a monastery. The anchorites of the early +centuries are no longer to be found in Christendom. +Even in Catholic countries the purpose of +monastic life is no longer to save the soul by ascetic +tortures, but to attain some practical end. +The Protestant Reformation, which broke the yoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> +of priestly power and set free the mind of Europe, +was a movement originating in Christianity itself, +like other developments of a similar kind. No +such signs of progress exist in the system of Buddhism. +It has lost the missionary ardor of its early +years; it has ceased from creating a vast literature +such as grew up in its younger days; it no longer +produces any wonders of architecture. It even +lags behind the active life of the countries where +it has its greatest power.</p> + +<p>It is a curious analogy between the two systems +that, while neither the Christ nor the Buddha practiced +or taught asceticism, their followers soon +made the essence of religion to consist in some +form of monastic life. Both Jesus and Sakya-muni +went about doing good. Both sent their followers +into the world to preach a gospel. Jesus, +after thirty years of a retired life, came among +men "eating and drinking," and associating with +"publicans and sinners." Sakya-muni, after +spending some years as an anchorite, deliberately +renounced that mode of religion as unsatisfactory, +and associated with all men, as Jesus afterward +did. Within a few centuries after their death, +their followers relapsed into ascetic and monastic +practices; but with this difference, that while in +Christendom there has always been both a regular +and a secular clergy, in the Buddhist countries +the whole priesthood live in monasteries. They +have no parish priests, unless as an exception.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> +While in Christian countries the clergy has become +more and more a practical body, in sympathy +with the common life, in Buddhist lands they live +apart and exercise little influence on the civil condition +of the people.</p> + +<p>Nor must we pass by the important fact that the +word Christendom is synonymous with a progressive +civilization, while Buddhism is everywhere +connected with one which is arrested and stationary. +The boundaries of the Christian religion are +exactly coextensive with the advance of science, +art, literature; and with the continued accumulation +of knowledge, power, wealth, and the comforts +of human life. According to <span class="locked">Kuenen,<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">7</a></span> one of the +most recent students of these questions, this difference +is due to the principle of hope which exists in +Christianity, but is absent in Buddhism. The one +has always believed in a kingdom of God here and +a blessed immortality hereafter. Buddhism has +not this hope; and this, says Kuenen, "is a blank +which nothing can fill." So large a thinker as +Albert Réville has expressed his belief that even +the intolerance of Christianity indicated a passionate +love of truth which has created modern science. +He says that "if Europe had not passed through +those ages of intolerance, it is doubtful whether the +science of our day would ever have <span class="locked">arrived."<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">8</a></span> It +is only within the boundaries of nations professing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> +the Christian faith that we must go to-day to learn +the latest discoveries in science, the best works of +art, the most flourishing literature. Only within +the same circle of Christian states is there a government +by law, and not by will. Only within +these boundaries have the rights of the individual +been secured, while the power of the state has been +increased. Government by law, joined with personal +freedom, is only to be found where the faith +exists which teaches that God not only supports the +universal order of natural things, but is also the +friend of the individual soul; and in just that circle +of states in which the doctrine is taught that there +is no individual soul for God to love and no Divine +presence in the order of nature, human life has subsided +into apathy, progress has ceased, and it has +been found impossible to construct national unity. +Saint-Hilaire <span class="locked">affirms<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">9</a></span> that "in politics and legislation +the dogma of Buddhism has remained inferior +even to that of Brahmanism," and "has been able +to do nothing to constitute states or to govern them +by equitable rules." These Buddhist nations are +really six: Siam, Burma, Nepaul, Thibet, Tartary, +and Ceylon. The activity and social progress in +China and Japan are no exceptions to this rule; +for in neither country has Buddhism any appreciable +influence on the character of the people.</p> + +<p>To those who deny that the theology of a people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> +influences its character, it may be instructive to +see how exactly the good and evil influences of +Buddhism correspond to the positive and negative +traits of its doctrine. Its merits, says Saint-Hilaire, +are its practical character, its abnegation +of vulgar gratifications, its benevolence, mildness, +sentiment of human equality, austerity of manners, +dislike of falsehood, and respect for the family. +Its defects are want of social power, egotistical +aims, ignorance of the ideal good, of the sense +of human right and human freedom, skepticism, incurable +despair, contempt of life. All its human +qualities correspond to its doctrinal teaching from +the beginning. It has always taught benevolence, +patience, self-denial, charity, and toleration. Its +defects arise inevitably from its negative aim,—to +get rid of sorrow and evil by sinking into apathy, +instead of seeking for the triumph of good and the +coming of a reign of God here on the earth.</p> + +<p>As regards the Buddha himself, modern students +differ widely. Some, of course, deny his very +existence, and reduce him to a solar myth. M. +Emile Senart, as quoted by <span class="locked">Oldenberg,<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">10</a></span> following +the Lalita Vistara as his authority, makes of him +a solar hero, born of the morning cloud, contending +by the power of light with the demons of darkness, +rising in triumph to the zenith of heavenly +glory, then passing into the night of Nirvana and +disappearing from the scene.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span></p> +<p>The difficulty about this solar myth theory is +that it proves too much; it is too powerful a solvent; +it would dissolve all history. How easy it +would be, in a few centuries, to turn General +Washington and the American Revolution into +a solar myth! Great Britain, a region of clouds +and rain, represents the Kingdom of Darkness; +America, with more sunshine, is the Day. Great +Britain, as Darkness, wishes to devour the Young +Day, or dawn of light, which America is about to +diffuse over the earth. But Washington, the solar +hero, arrives. He is from Virginia, that is, born of +a virgin. He was born in February, in the sign +of Aquarius and the Fishes,—plainly referring to +the birth of the sun from the ocean. As the sun +surveys the earth, so Washington was said to be +a surveyor of many regions. The story of the +fruitless attempts of the Indians to shoot him at +Braddock's defeat is evidently legendary; and, +in fact, this battle itself must be a myth, for how +can we suppose two English and French armies +to have crossed the Atlantic, and then gone into +a wilderness west of the mountains, to fight a +battle? So easy is it to turn history into a solar +myth.</p> + +<p>The character of Sakya-muni must be learned +from his religion and from authentic tradition. +In many respects his character and influence +resembled that of Jesus. He opposed priestly +assumptions, taught the equality and brotherhood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +of man, sent out disciples to teach his doctrine, +was a reformer who relied on the power of truth +and love. Many of his reported sayings resemble +those of Jesus. He was opposed by the Brahmans +as Jesus by the Pharisees. He compared the +Brahmans who followed their traditions to a chain +of blind men, who move on, not seeing where they +<span class="locked">go.<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">11</a></span> Like Jesus, he taught that mercy was better +than sacrifices. Like Jesus, he taught orally, and +left no writing. Jesus did not teach in Hebrew, +but in the Aramaic, which was the popular dialect, +and so the Buddha did not speak to the people in +Sanskrit, but in their own tongue, which was Pâli. +Like Jesus, he seems to have instructed his hearers +by parables or stories. He was one of the +greatest reformers the world has ever seen; and +his influence, after that of the Christ, has probably +exceeded that of any one who ever lived.</p> + +<p>But, beside such real resemblances between +these two masters, we are told of others still more +striking, which would certainly be hard to explain +unless one of the systems had borrowed from the +other. These are said to be the preëxistence of +Buddha in heaven; his birth of a virgin; salutation +by angels; presentation in the temple; baptism +by fire and water; dispute with the doctors; +temptation in the wilderness; transfiguration;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> +descent into hell; ascension into <span class="locked">heaven.<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">12</a></span> If +these legends could be traced back to the time +before Christ, then it might be argued that the +Gospels have borrowed from Buddhism. Such, +however, is not the fact. These stories are taken +from the Lalita Vistara, which, according to Rhys +<span class="locked">Davids,<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">13</a></span> was probably composed between six hundred +and a thousand years after the time of Buddha, +by some Buddhist poet in Nepaul. Rhys +Davids, one of our best authorities, says of this +poem: "As evidence of what early Buddhism actually +was, it is of about the same value as some +mediæval poem would be of the real facts of the +gospel history."<a href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> M. Ernest de Bunsen, in his +work on the "Angel Messiah," has given a very +exhaustive statement, says Mr. Davids, of all the +possible channels through which Christians can be +supposed to have borrowed from the Buddhists. +But Mr. Davids's conclusion is that he finds no +evidence of any such communications of ideas from +the East to the <span class="locked">West.<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">14</a></span> The difference between +the wild stories of the Lalita Vistara and the +sober narratives of the Gospels is quite apparent. +Another writer, Professor <span class="locked">Seydel,<a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">15</a></span> thinks, after a +full and careful examination, that only five facts in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> +the Gospels may have been borrowed from Buddhism. +These are: (1) The fast of Jesus before +his work; (2) The question in regard to the blind +man—"Who did sin, this man, or his parents"? +(3) The preëxistence of Christ; (4) The presentation +in the Temple; (5) Nathanael sitting under +a fig-tree, compared with Buddha under a Bo-tree. +But Kuenen has examined these parallels, and considers +them merely accidental coincidences. And, +in truth, it is very hard to conceive of one religion +borrowing its facts or legends from another, if +that other stands in no historic relation to it. +That Buddhism should have taken much from +Brahmanism is natural; for Brahmanism was its +mother. That Christianity should have borrowed +many of its methods from Judaism is equally natural; +for Judaism was its cradle. Modern travelers +in Burma and Tartary have found that the Buddhists +hold a kind of camp-meeting in the open +air, where they pray and sing. Suppose that some +critic, noticing this, should assert that, when Wesley +and his followers established similar customs, +they must have borrowed them from the Buddhists. +The absurdity would be evident. New religions +grow, they are not imitations.</p> + +<p>It has been thought, however, that Christianity +was derived from the Essenes, because of certain +resemblances, and it is argued that the Essenes +must have obtained their monastic habits from the +Therapeutæ in Egypt, and that the Therapeutæ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> +received them from the Buddhists, because they +could not have found them elsewhere. This theory, +however, has been dismissed from the scene +by the young German <span class="locked">scholar,<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">16</a></span> who has proved +that the essay on the Therapeutæ ascribed to Philo +was really written by a Christian anchorite in the +third or fourth century.</p> + +<p>The result, then, of our investigation, is this: +There is no probability that the analogies between +Christianity and Buddhism have been derived the +one from the other. They have come from the +common and universal needs and nature of man, +which repeat themselves again and again in like +positions and like circumstances. That Jesus and +Buddha should both have retired into the wilderness +before undertaking their great work is probable, +for it has been the habit of other reformers +to let a period of meditation precede their coming +before the world. That both should have been +tempted to renounce their enterprise is also in +accordance with human nature. That, in after +times, the simple narratives should be overlaid +with additions, and a whole mass of supernatural +wonders added,—as we find in the Apocryphal +Gospels and the Lalita Vistara,—is also in accordance +with the working of the human mind.</p> + +<p>Laying aside all such unsatisfactory resemblances, +we must regard the Buddha as having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> +been one of the noblest of men, and one whom +Jesus would have readily welcomed as a fellow +worker and a friend. He opposed a dominant +priesthood, maintained the equal religious rights of +all mankind, overthrew caste, encouraged woman +to take her place as man's equal, forbade all bloody +sacrifices, and preached a religion of peace and +good will, seeking to triumph only in the fair conflict +of reason with reason. If he was defective +in the loftiest instincts of the soul; if he knew nothing +of the infinite and eternal; if he saw nothing +permanent in the soul of man; if his highest purpose +was negative,—to escape from pain, sorrow, +anxiety, toil,—let us still be grateful for the influence +which has done so much to tame the savage +Mongols, and to introduce hospitality and humanity +into the homes of Lassa and Siam. If Edwin +Arnold, a poet, idealizes him too highly, it is the +better fault, and should be easily forgiven. Hero-worshipers +are becoming scarce in our time; let us +make the most of those we have.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="WHY I AM NOT A FREE-RELIGIONIST"><a id="WHY">WHY I AM NOT A FREE-RELIGIONIST</a><a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">17</a></h2> + +<p>What is meant by "Free Religion"? I understand +by it, individualism in religion. It is the +religious belief which has made itself independent +of historic and traditional influences, so far +as it is in the power of any one to attain such +independence. In Christian lands it means a religion +which has cut loose from the Bible and the +Christian Church, and which is as ready to question +the teaching of Jesus as that of Socrates or +Buddha. It is, what Emerson called himself, an +endless seeker, with no past behind it. It is entire +trust in the private reason as the sole authority in +matters of religion.</p> + +<p>Free Religion may be regarded as Protestantism +carried to its ultimate results. A Protestant +<em>Christian</em> accepts the leadership of Jesus, and +keeps himself in the Christian communion; but he +uses his own private judgment to discover what +Jesus taught, and what Christianity really is. The +Free Religionist goes a step farther, and decides +by his own private judgment what is true and +what false, no matter whether taught by Jesus or +not.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> +Free Religion, as thus understood, seems to me +opposed to the law of evolution, and incompatible +with it. Evolution educes the present from the +past by a continuous process. Free Religion cuts +itself loose from the past, and makes every man +the founder of his own religion. According to +the law of evolution, confirmed by history, every +advance in religion is the development from something +going before. Jewish monotheism grew out +of polytheism; Christianity and Mohammedanism +out of Judaism; Buddhism out of Brahmanism; +Protestant Christianity out of the Roman Catholic +Church. Jesus himself said, "Think not that I +am come to destroy the Law or the Prophets: +I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil." The +higher religions are not made; they grow. Of +each it may be said, as of the poet: "Nascitur, +non fit." Therefore, if there is to arrive something +higher than our existing Christianity, it +must not be a system which forsakes the Christian +belief, but something developed from it.</p> + +<p>According to the principle of evolution, every +growing and productive religion obeys the laws of +heredity and of variation. It has an inherited +common life, and a tendency to modification by +individual activity. Omit or depress either factor, +and the religion loses its power of growth. Without +a common life, the principle of development is +arrested. He who leaves the great current which +comes from the past loses headway. This current,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> +in the Christian communion, is the inherited +spirit of Jesus. It is his life, continued in his +Church; his central convictions of love to God +and to man; of fatherhood and brotherhood; of +the power of truth to conquer error, of good +to overcome evil; of a Kingdom of Heaven to +come to us here. It is the faith of Jesus in things +unseen; his hope of the triumph of right over +wrong; his love going down to the lowliest child +of God. These vital convictions in the soul of +Jesus are communicated by contact from generation +to generation. They are propagated, as he +suggested, like leaven hidden in the dough. By +a different figure, Plato, in his dialogue of Ion, +shows that inspiration is transmitted like the magnetic +influence, which causes iron rings to adhere +and hang together in a chain. Thoughts and +opinions are communicated by argument, reasoning, +speech, and writing; but faith and inspiration +by the influence of life on life. The life of Jesus +is thus continued in his Church, and those who +stand outside of it lose much of this transmitted +and sympathetic influence. Common life in a +religious body furnishes the motive force which +carries it forward, while individual freedom gives +the power of improvement. The two principles +of heredity and variation must be united in order +to combine union and freedom, and to secure progress. +Where freedom of thought ceases, religion +becomes rigid. It is incapable of development.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> +Such, for instance, is the condition of Buddhism, +which, at first full of intellectual activity, has now +hardened into a monkish ritual.</p> + +<p>Free Religion sacrifices the motive power derived +from association and religious sympathy for +the sake of a larger intellectual freedom. The +result is individualism. It founds no churches, +but spends much force in criticising the Christian +community, its belief, and its methods. These +are, no doubt, open to criticism, which would do +good if administered sympathetically and from +within, but produce little result when delivered +in the spirit of antagonism. Imperfect as the +Christian Church is, it ought to be remembered +that in it are to be found the chief strength and +help of the charities, philanthropies, and moral +reforms of our time. Every one who has at heart +a movement for the benefit of humanity appeals +instinctively for aid to the Christian churches. It +is in these that such movements usually originate, +and are carried on. Even when, as in the antislavery +movement, a part of the churches refuse +to sympathize with a new moral or social movement, +the reproaches made against them show that +in the mind of the community an interest in all +humane endeavor is considered to be a part of +their work. The common life and convictions +of these bodies enable them to accomplish what +individualism does not venture to undertake. Individualism +is incapable of organized and sustained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> +work of this sort, though it can, and often does, +coöperate earnestly with it.</p> + +<p>The teaching of Jesus is founded on the synthesis +of Truth and Love. Jesus declares himself +to have been born "to bear witness to the truth," +and he also makes love, divine and human, the +substance of his gospel. The love element produces +union, the truth element, freedom. Union +without freedom stiffens into a rigid conservatism. +Freedom without union breaks up into an intellectual +atomism. The Christian churches have +gone into both extremes, but never permanently; +for Christianity, as long as it adheres to its founder +and his ideas, has the power of self-recovery. Its +diseases are self-limited.</p> + +<p>It has had many such periods, but has recovered +from them. It passed through an age in which +it ran to ascetic self-denial, and made saints of +self-torturing anchorites. It afterward became a +speculative system, and tended to metaphysical +creeds and doctrinal distinctions. It became a +persecuting church, burning heretics and Jews, +and torturing infidels as an act of faith. It was +tormented by dark superstitions, believing in witchcraft +and magic. But it has left all these evils +behind. No one is now put to death for heresy or +witchcraft. The monastic orders in the Church +are preachers and teachers, or given to charity. +No one could be burned to-day as a heretic. No +one to-day believes in witchcraft. The old creeds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> +which once held the Church in irons are now slowly +disintegrating. But reform, as I have said, must +come from within, by the gradual elimination of +those inherited beliefs which interfere with the +unity of the Church and the leadership of Christ +himself. The Platonic and Egyptian Trinity remaining +as dogma, repeated but not understood,—the +Manichæan division of the human race into +children of God and children of the Devil,—the +scholastic doctrine of the Atonement, by which +the blood of Jesus expiates human guilt,—are +being gradually explained in accordance with reason +and the teaching of Jesus.</p> + +<p>Some beliefs, once thought to be of vital importance, +are now seen by many to be unessential, or +are looked at in a different light. Instead of making +Jesus an exceptional person, we are coming to +regard him as a representative man, the realized +ideal of what man was meant to be, and will one +day become. Instead of considering his sinlessness +as setting him apart from his race, we look +on it as showing that sin is not the natural, but +unnatural, condition of mankind. His miracles +are regarded not as violations of the laws of +nature, but anticipations of laws which one day +will be universally known, and which are boundless +as the universe. Nor will they in future be +regarded as evidence of the mission of Jesus, since +he himself was grieved when they were so looked +upon, and he made his truth and his character the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> +true evidence that he came from God. The old +distinction between "natural" and "supernatural" +will disappear when it is seen that Jesus had a +supernatural work and character, the same in kind +as ours, though higher in degree. The supreme +gifts which make him the providential leader of +the race do not set him apart from his brethren +if we see that it is a law of humanity that gifts +differ, and that men endowed with superior powers +become leaders in science, art, literature, politics; +as Jesus has become the chief great spiritual leader +of mankind.</p> + +<p>Men are now searching the Scriptures, not under +the bondage of an infallible letter, but seeking +for the central ideas of Jesus and the spirit of +his gospel. They begin to accept the maxim of +Goethe: "No matter how much the gospels contradict +each other, provided the Gospel does not +contradict itself." The profound convictions of +Christ, which pervade all his teaching, give the +clue by which to explain the divergences in the +narrative. We interpret the letter by the light +of the spirit. We see how Jesus emphasized the +law of human happiness,—that it comes from +within, not from without; that the pure in heart +see God, and that it is more blessed to give than +to receive. We comprehend the stress he lays on +the laws of progress,—that he who humbleth himself +shall be exalted. We recognize his profound +conviction that all God's children are dear to him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> +that his sun shines on the evil and the good, and +that he will seek the one lost sheep till he find it. +We see his trust in the coming of the Kingdom +of God in this world, the triumph of good over +evil, and the approaching time when the knowledge +of God shall fill the earth as the waters +cover the sea. And we find his profound faith +in the immortal life which abides in us, so that +whoever shares that faith with him can never die.</p> + +<p>The more firmly these central ideas of Jesus are +understood and held, the less importance belongs +to any criticism of the letter. This or that saying, +attributed to Jesus in the record, maybe subjected +to attack; but it is the main current of his teaching +which has made him the leader of civilized +man for eighteen centuries. That majestic stream +will sweep on undisturbed, though there may be +eddies here or stagnant pools there, which induce +hasty observers to suppose that it has ceased to +flow.</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem" xml:lang="la" lang="la"> +<span class="i0q">"Rusticus expectat dum defluit amnis, at ille<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Volvitur et volvetur, in omne volubilis ævium."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I sometimes read attacks on special sayings of +the record, which argue, to the critic's mind, that +Jesus was in error here, or mistaken there. But +I would recommend to such writers to ponder the +suggestive rule of Coleridge: "Until I can understand +the ignorance of Plato, I shall consider +myself ignorant of his understanding;" or the +remark of Emerson to the youth who brought him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> +a paper in which he thought he had refuted Plato: +"If you attack the king, be sure that you kill +him."</p> + +<p>When the Christian world really takes Jesus +<em>himself</em> as its leader, instead of building its faith +on opinions <em>about</em> him, we may anticipate the +arrival of that union which he foresaw and foretold—"As +thou, father, art in me, and I in thee, +that they also may be one in us, that the world may +believe that thou hast sent me." Then Christians, +ceasing from party strife and sectarian dissension, +will unite in one mighty effort to cure the evils of +humanity and redress its wrongs. Before a united +Christendom, what miseries could remain unrelieved? +War, that criminal absurdity, that monstrous +anachronism, must at last be abolished. +Pauperism, vice, and crime, though continuing in +sporadic forms, would cease to exist as a part of +the permanent institutions of civilization. A truly +Catholic Church, united under the Master, would +lead all humanity up to a higher plane. The immense +forces developed by modern science, and the +magnificent discoveries in the realm of nature, helpless +now to cure the wrongs of suffering man, would +become instruments of potent use under the guidance +of moral forces.</p> + +<p>According to the law of evolution, this is what +we have a right to expect. If we follow the lines +of historic development, not being led into extreme +individualism; if we maintain the continuity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> +of human progress, this vast result must finally +arrive. For such reasons I prefer to remain in +the communion of the Christian body, doing what +I may to assist its upward movement. For such +reasons I am not a Free Religionist.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="HAVE ANIMALS SOULS"><a id="HAVE">HAVE ANIMALS SOULS</a><a name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">18</a></h2> + +<p>To answer this question, we must first inquire +what we mean by a soul. If we mean a human +soul, it is certain that animals do not possess it,—at +least not in a fully developed condition. If we +mean, "Do they possess an immortal soul?" that +is, perhaps, a question difficult to answer either in +the affirmative or the negative. But if we mean +by the soul an immaterial principle of life, which +coördinates the bodily organization to a unity; +which is the ground of growth, activity, perception, +volition; which is intelligent, affectionate, +and to a certain extent free; then we must admit +that animals have souls.</p> + +<p>The same arguments which induce us to believe +that there is a soul in man apply to animals. The +world has generally believed that in man, beside +the body, there is also soul. Why have people +believed it? The reason probably is, that, beside +all that can be accounted for as the result of the +juxtaposition of material particles, there remains +a very important element unaccounted for. Mechanical +and physical agency may explain much, +but the most essential characteristic of vital phenomena<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> +they do not explain. They do not account +for the unity in variety, permanence in change, +growth from within by continuous processes, coming +from the vital functions in an organized body. +Every such body has a unity peculiar to itself, +which cannot be considered the result of the collocation +of material molecules. It is a unity which +controls these molecules, arranges and rearranges +them, maintains a steady activity, carries the body +through the phenomena of growth, and causes the +various organs to coöperate for the purposes of +the whole. The vital power is not merely the +result of material phenomena, but it reacts on these +as a cause. Add to this that strange phenomenon +of human consciousness, the sense of personality,—which +is the clear perception of selfhood as a +distinct unchanging unit, residing in a body all of +whose parts are in perpetual flux,—and we see +why the opinion of a soul has arisen. It has been +assumed by the common sense of mankind that in +every living body the cause of the mode of existence +of each part is contained in the whole. As +soon as death intervenes each part is left free +to pass through changes peculiar to itself alone. +Life is a power which acts from the whole upon +the parts, causing them to resist chemical laws, +which begin to act as soon as life departs. The +unity of a living body does not result from an ingenious +juxtaposition of parts, like that of a watch, +for example. For the unity of a living body implies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> +that which is called "the vital vortex," or +perpetual exchange of particles.</p> + +<p>A watch or clock is the nearest approach which +has been made by man to the creation of a living +being. A watch, for instance, contains the principle +of its action in itself, and is not moved from +without; in that it resembles a living creature. +We can easily conceive of a watch which might be +made to go seventy years, without being wound up. +It might need to be oiled occasionally, but not as +often as an animal needs to be fed. A watch is +also like a living creature in having a unity as a +whole not belonging to the separate parts, and to +which all parts conspire,—namely, that of marking +the progress of time. Why, then, say that a man +has a soul, and that a watch has not? The difference +is this. The higher principle of unity in +the watch, that is, its power of marking time, is +wholly an effect, and never a cause. It is purely +and only the result of the arrangement of wheels +and springs; in other words, of material conditions. +But in man, the principle of unity is also a cause. +Life reacts upon body. The laws of matter are +modified by the power of life, chemical action is +suspended, living muscles are able to endure without +laceration the application of forces which +would destroy the dead fibre. So the thought, the +love, the will of a living creature react on the physical +frame. A sight, a sound, a few spoken words, +a message seen in a letter, cause an immense revulsion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> +in the physical condition. Something is suddenly +told us, and we faint away, or even die, from +the effect of the message. Here mind acts upon +matter, showing that in man mind is not merely a +result, but also a cause. Hence men have generally +believed in the existence of a soul in man. +They have not been taught it by metaphysicians, it +is one of the spontaneous inductions of common +sense from universal experience.</p> + +<p>But this argument applies equally to prove a +soul in animals. The same reaction of soul on +body is constantly apparent. Every time that you +whistle to your dog, and he comes bounding toward +you, his mind has acted on his body. His will has +obeyed his thought, his muscles have obeyed his +will. The cause of his motion was mental, not +physical. This is too evident to require any further +illustration. Therefore, regarding the soul +as a principle of life, connected with the body but +not its result, or, in other words, as an immaterial +principle of activity, there is the same reason for +believing in the soul of animals that there is for +believing in the soul of man.</p> + +<p>But when we ask as to the nature of the animal +soul, and how far it is analogous to that of man, +we meet with certain difficulties. Let us see then +how many of the human qualities of the soul are to +be found in animals, and so discover if there is any +remainder not possessed by them, peculiar to ourselves.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> +That the vital soul, or principle of life, belongs +equally to plants, animals, and men, is evident. +This is so apparent as to be granted even by Descartes, +who regards animals as mere machines, or +automata, destitute of a thinking soul, but not of +life or feeling. They are automata, but living and +feeling automata. Descartes denies them a soul, +because he defines the soul as the thinking and +knowing power. But Locke (with whom Leibnitz +fully agreed on this point) ascribes to animals +thought as well as feeling, and makes their difference +from man to consist in their not possessing +abstract ideas. We shall presently see the truth +of this most sagacious remark.</p> + +<p>Plants, animals, and men are alike in possessing +the vital principle, which produces growth, which +causes them to pass through regular phases of development, +which enables them to digest and assimilate +food taken from without, and which carries on +a steady circulation within. To this are added, in +the animal, the function of voluntary locomotion, +perception through the senses of an outward world, +the power of feeling pleasure and pain, some +wonderful instincts, and some degree of reflective +thought. Animals also possess memory, imagination, +playfulness, industry, the sense of shame, and +many other very human qualities.</p> + +<p>Take, for example, Buffon's fine description of +the dog ("Histoire du Chien"):—</p> + +<p>"By nature fiery, irritable, ferocious, and sanguinary,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> +the dog in his savage state is a terror to +other animals. But domesticated he becomes +gentle, attached, and desirous to please. He hastens +to lay at the feet of his master his courage, +his strength, and all his abilities. He listens for +his master's orders, inquires his will, consults his +opinion, begs his permission, understands the indications +of his wishes. Without possessing the +power of human thought, he has all the warmth of +human sentiment. He has more than human fidelity, +he is constant in his attachments. He is made +up of zeal, ardor, and obedience. He remembers +kindness longer than wrong. He endures bad +treatment and forgets it—disarming it by patience +and submission."</p> + +<p>No one who has ever had a dog for a friend will +think this description exaggerated. If any should +so consider it, we will cite for their benefit what +Mr. Jesse, one of the latest students of the canine +race, asserts concerning it, in his "Researches into +the History of the British Dog" (London, 1866). +He says that remarkable instances of the following +virtues, feelings, and powers of mind are well <span class="locked">authenticated:—</span></p> + +<p>"The dog risks his life to give help; goes for +assistance; saves life from drowning, fire, other +animals, and men; assists distress; guards property; +knows boundaries; resents injuries; repays +benefits; communicates ideas; combines with other +dogs for several purposes; understands language;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> +knows when he is about to die; knows death in a +human being; devotes his whole life to the object +of his love; dies of grief and of joy; dies in his +master's defense; commits suicide; remains by the +dead; solicits, and gives alarm; knows the characters +of men; recognizes a portrait, and men after +long absence; is fond of praise and sensible to ridicule; +feels shame, and is sensible of a fault; is +playful; is incorruptible; finds his way back from +distant countries; is magnanimous to smaller animals; +is jealous; has dreams; and takes a last +farewell when dying."</p> + +<p>Much of this, it may be said, is instinctive. We +must therefore distinguish between Instinct and +Intelligence; or, rather, between instinctive intelligence +and reflective intelligence. Many writers +on the subject of animals have not carefully distinguished +these very different activities of the soul. +Even M. Leroy, one of the first in modern times +who brought careful observation to the study of +the nature of animals, has not always kept in view +this distinction—as has been noticed by a subsequent +French writer of very considerable ability, +M. <span class="locked">Flourens.<a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">19</a></span> The following marks, according +to M. Flourens, distinguish instinct from <span class="locked">intelligence:—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="center-table"> +<table id="instinct" class="ivi" summary="Instinct vs. Intelligence"> + <tr> + <th class="tdl in2 r4">INSTINCT</th> + <th class="tdl in2">INTELLIGENCE</th></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl r4">Is spontaneous,</td> + <td class="tdl">Is deliberate,</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl r4">" necessary,</td> + <td class="tdl">" conditional,</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl r4">" invariable,</td> + <td class="tdl">" modifiable,</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl r4">" innate,</td> + <td class="tdl">comes from observation<br />and experience,</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl r4">" fatal,</td> + <td class="tdl">is free,</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl r4">" particular.</td> + <td class="tdl">" general.</td></tr> +</table> +</div></div> + +<p>Thus the building faculty of the beaver is an instinct, +for it acts spontaneously, and always in the +same way. It is not a general faculty of building +in all places and ways, but a special power of +building houses of sticks, mud, and other materials, +with the entrance under water and a dry place +within. When beavers build on a running stream, +they begin by making a dam across it, which preserves +them from losing the water in a drought; +but this also is a spontaneous and invariable act. +The old stories of their driving piles, using their +tails for trowels, and having well-planned houses +with many chambers, have been found to be fictitious. +That the beaver builds by instinct, though +intelligence comes in to modify the instinct, appears +from his wishing to build his house or his dam +when it is not needed. Mr. Broderip, the English +naturalist, had a pet beaver that manifested his +building instinct by dragging together warming-pans, +sweeping-brushes, boots, and sticks, which he +would lay crosswise. He then would fill in his +wall with clothes, bits of coal, turf, laying it very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +even. Finally, he made a nest for himself behind +his wall with clothes, hay, and cotton. As this +creature had been brought from America very +young, all this procedure must have been instinctive. +But his intelligence showed itself in his +adapting his mode of building to his new circumstances. +His instinct led him to build his wall, +and to lay his sticks crosswise, and to fill in with +what he could find, according to the universal and +spontaneous procedure of all beavers. But his +making use of a chest of drawers for one side of +his wall, and taking brushes and boots instead of +cutting down trees, were no doubt acts of intelligence.</p> + +<p>A large part of the wonderful procedure of bees +is purely instinctive. Bees, from the beginning +of the world, and in all countries of the earth, +have lived in similar communities; have had their +queen, to lay eggs for them: if their queen is lost, +have developed a new one in the same way, by +altering the conditions of existence in one of their +larvæ; have constructed their hexagonal cells by +the same mathematical law, so as to secure the +most strength with the least outlay of material. +All this is instinct—for it is spontaneous and not +deliberate; it is universal and constant. But when +the bee deflects his comb in order to avoid a stick +thrust across the inside of the hive, and begins the +variation before he reaches the stick, this can only +be regarded as an act of intelligence.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> +Animals, then, have both instincts and intelligence; +and so has man. A large part of human +life proceeds from tendencies as purely, if not as +vigorously, instinctive as those of animals. Man +has social instincts, which create human society. +Children play from an instinct. The maternal +instinct in a human mother is, till modified by +reflection, as spontaneous, universal, and necessary +as the same instinct in animals. But in man the +instincts are reduced to a minimum, and are soon +modified by observation, experience, and reflection. +In animals they are at their maximum, and are +modified in a much less degree.</p> + +<p>It is sometimes said that animals do not reason, +but man does. But animals are quite capable of +at least two modes of reasoning, that of comparison +and that of inference. They compare two +modes of action, or two substances, and judge the +one to be preferable to the other, and accordingly +select it. Sir Emerson Tennent tells us that elephants, +employed to build stone walls in Ceylon, +will lay each stone in its place, then stand off and +look to see if it is plumb, and, if not, will move +it with their trunk, till it lies perfectly straight. +This is a pure act of reflective judgment. He +narrates an adventure which befell himself in Ceylon +while riding on a narrow road through the +forest. He heard a rumbling sound approaching, +and directly there came to meet him an elephant, +bearing on his tusks a large log of wood, which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> +had been directed to carry to the place where it +was needed. Sir Emerson Tennent's horse, unused +to these monsters, was alarmed, and refused to go +forward. The sagacious elephant, perceiving this, +evidently decided that he must himself go out of +the way. But to do this, he was obliged first +to take the log from his tusks with his trunk, +and lay it on the ground, which he did, and then +backed out of the road between the trees till only +his head was visible. But the horse was still too +timid to go by, whereupon the judicious pachyderm +pushed himself farther back, till all of his body, +except the end of his trunk, had disappeared. +Then Sir Emerson succeeded in getting his horse +by, but stopped to witness the result. The elephant +came out, took the log up again, laid it +across his tusks, and went on his way. This story, +told by an unimpeachable witness, shows several +successive acts of reasoning. The log-bearer inferred +from the horse's terror that it would not +pass; he again inferred that in that case he must +himself get out of the way; that, to do this, he +must lay down his log; that he must go farther +back; and accompanying this was his sense of +duty, making him faithful to his task; and, most +of all, his consideration of what was due to this +human traveler, which kept him from driving the +horse and man before him as he went on.</p> + +<p>There is another well-authenticated anecdote of +an elephant; he was following an ammunition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> +wagon, and saw the man who was seated on it fall +off just before the wheel. The man would have +been crushed had not the animal instantly run +forward, and, without an order, lifted the wheel +with his trunk, and held it suspended in the air, +till the wagon had passed over the man without +hurting him. Here were combined presence of +mind, good will, knowledge of the danger to the +man, and a rapid calculation of how he could be +saved.</p> + +<p>Perhaps I may properly introduce here an account +of the manifestations of mind in the animals +I have had the most opportunity of observing. I +have a horse, who was named Rubezahl, after +the mountain spirit of the Harz made famous in +the stories of Musaeus. We have contracted his +name to Ruby for convenience. Now I have reason +to believe that Ruby can distinguish Sunday +from other days. On Sunday I have been in the +habit of driving to Boston to church; but on +other days, I drive to the neighboring village, +where are the post-office, shops of mechanics, and +other stores. To go to Boston, I usually turn to +the right when I leave my driveway; to go to the +village, I turn to the left. Now, on Sunday, if I +leave the reins loose, so that the horse may do as +he pleases, he invariably turns to the right, and +goes to Boston. On other days, he as invariably +turns to the left, and goes to the village. He does +this so constantly and regularly, that none of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> +family have any doubt of the fact that he knows +that it is Sunday; <em>how</em> he knows it we are unable +to discover. I have left my house at the same +hour on Sunday and on Monday, in the same +carriage, with the same number of persons in it; +and yet on Sunday he always turns to the right, +and on Monday to the left. He is fed at the same +time on Sunday as on other days, but the man +comes back to harness him a little later on Sunday +than at other times, and that is possibly his method +of knowing that it is the day for going to Boston. +But see how much of observation, memory, and +thought is implied in all this.</p> + +<p>Again, Ruby has shown a very distinct feeling +of the supernatural. Driving one day up a hill +near my house, we met a horse-car coming down +toward us, running without horses, simply by the +force of gravity. My horse became so frightened +that he ran into the gutter, and nearly overturned +me; and I got him past with the greatest difficulty. +Now he had met the cars coming down that hill, +drawn by horses, a hundred times, and had never +been alarmed. Moreover, only a day or two after, +in going up the same hill, we saw a car moving +uphill, before us, where the horses were entirely +invisible, being concealed by the car itself, which +was between us and the horses. But this did not +frighten Ruby at all. He evidently said to himself, +"The horses are there, though I do not +see them." But in the other case it seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> +him an effect without a cause—something plainly +supernatural. There was nothing in the aspect +of the car itself to alarm him; he had seen that +often enough. He was simply terrified by seeing +it move without any adequate cause—just as we +should be, if we saw our chairs begin to walk +about the room.</p> + +<p>Our Newfoundland dog's name is Donatello; +which, again, is shortened to Don in common parlance. +He has all the affectionate and excellent +qualities of his race. He is the most good-natured +creature I ever saw. Nothing provokes him. Little +dogs may yelp at him, the cat or kittens may snarl +and spit at him: he pays no attention to them. +A little dog climbs on his back, and lies down +there; one of the cats will lie between his legs. +But at night, when he is on guard, no one can approach +the house unchallenged.</p> + +<p>But his affection for the family is very great. +To be allowed to come into the house and lie down +near us is his chief happiness. He was very fond +of my son E——, who played with him a good +deal, and when the young man went away, during +the war, with a three months' regiment, Don was +much depressed by his absence. He walked down +regularly to the station, and stood there till a train +of cars came in; and when his friend did not arrive +in it, he went back, with a melancholy air, to the +house. But at last the young man returned. It +was in the evening, and Don was lying on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> +piazza. As soon as he saw his friend, his exultation +knew no bounds. He leaped upon him, and +ran round him, barking and showing the wildest +signs of delight. All at once he turned and ran +up into the garden, and came back bringing an +apple, which he laid down at the feet of his young +master. It was the only thing he could think of +to do for him—and this sign of his affection was +quite pathetic.</p> + +<p>The reason why Don thought of the apple was +probably this: we had taught him to go and get +an apple for the horse, when so directed. We +would say, "Go, Don, get an apple for poor +Ruby;" then he would run up into the garden, +and bring an apple, and hold it up to the horse; +and perhaps when the horse tried to take it he +would pull it away. After doing this a few times, +he would finally lie down on his back under the +horse's nose, and allow the latter to take the apple +from his mouth. He would also kiss the horse, on +being told to do so. When we said, "Don, kiss +poor Ruby," he leaped up and kissed the horse's +nose. But he afterwards hit upon a more convenient +method of doing it. He got his paw over the +rein and pulled down the horse's head, so that he +could continue the osculatory process more at his +ease, sitting comfortably on the ground.</p> + +<p>Animals know when they have done wrong; so +far, at least, as that means disobeying our will +or command. The only great fault which Don<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> +ever committed was stealing a piece of meat from +our neighbor's kitchen. I do not think he was +punished or even scolded for it; for we did not +find it out till later, when it would have done no +good to punish him. But a week or two after +that, the gentleman whose kitchen had been robbed +was standing on my lawn, talking with me, and he +referred, laughingly, to what Don had done. He +did not even look at the dog, much less change his +tones to those of rebuke. But the moment Don +heard his name mentioned, he turned and walked +away, and hid himself under the low branches of +a Norway spruce near by. He was evidently profoundly +ashamed of himself. Was this the result +of conscience, or of the love of approbation? In +either case, it was very human.</p> + +<p>That the love of approbation is common to many +animals we all know. Dogs and horses certainly +can be influenced by praise and blame, as easily as +men. Many years ago we had occasion to draw +a load of gravel, and we put Ruby into a tip-cart +to do the work. He was profoundly depressed, +and evidently felt it as a degradation. He hung +his head, and showed such marks of humiliation +that we have never done it since. But on the +other hand, when he goes out, under the saddle, +by the side of a young horse, this veteran animal +tries as hard to appear young as any old bachelor +of sixty years who is still ambitious of social +triumphs. He dances along, and goes sideways,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> +and has all the airs and graces of a young colt. +All this, too, is very human.</p> + +<p>At one time my dog was fond of going to the +railway station to see the people, and I always +ordered him to go home, fearing he should be hurt +by the cars. He easily understood that if he went +there, it was contrary to my wishes. Nevertheless, +he often went; and I do not know but this fondness +for forbidden fruit was rather human, too. +So, whenever he was near the station, if he saw +me coming, he would look the other way, and pretend +not to know me. If he met me anywhere +else, he always bounded to meet me with great +delight. But at the station it was quite different. +He would pay no attention to my whistle or my +call. He even pretended to be another dog, and +would look me right in the face without apparently +recognizing me. He gave me the cut direct, +in the most impertinent manner; the reason evidently +being that he knew he was doing what was +wrong, and did not like to be found out. Possibly +he may have relied a little on my near-sightedness, +in this manœuvre.</p> + +<p>That animals have acute observation, memory, +imagination, the sense of approbation, strong affections, +and the power of reasoning is therefore +very evident. Lord Bacon also speaks of a dog's +reverence for his master as partaking of a religious +element. "Mark," says he, "what a generosity +and courage a dog will put on, when he finds himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> +maintained by a man, who to him is instead +of a God—which courage he could not attain, +without that confidence in a better nature than his +own." Who that has seen the mute admiration +and trust in a dog's eye, as he looks up at his +master, but can see in it something of a religious +reverence, the germ and first principle of religion?</p> + +<p>What, then, is the difference between the human +soul and that of the animal in its highest development?</p> + +<p>That there is a very marked difference between +man and the highest animal is evident. The human +being, weaker in proportion than all other +animals, has subjected them all to himself. He +has subdued the earth by his inventions. Physically +too feeble to dig a hole in the ground like +a rabbit, or to fell a tree like a beaver; unable to +live in the water like a fish, or to move through +the air like a bird; he yet, by his inventive power +and his machinery, can compel the forces of nature +to work for him. They are the true genii, slaves +of his lamp. Air, fire, water, electricity, and magnetism +build his cities and his stately ships, run +his errands, carry him from land to land, and accept +him as their master.</p> + +<p>Whence does man obtain this power? Some +say it is <em>the human hand</em> which has made man +supreme. It is, no doubt, a wonderful machine; +a box of tools in itself. The size and strength of +the thumb, and the power of opposing it to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> +extremities of the fingers, distinguishes, according +to most anatomists, the human hand from that of +the quadrumanous animals. In those monkeys +which are nearest to man, the thumb is so short +and weak, and the fingers so long and slender, that +their tips can scarcely be brought in opposition. +Excellent for climbing, they are not good for taking +up small objects or supporting large ones. +But the hand of man could accomplish little without +the mind behind it. It was therefore a good +remark of Galen, that "man is not the wisest of +animals because he has a hand; but God has given +him a hand because he is the wisest of animals."</p> + +<p>The size of the human brain, relatively greater +than that of almost any other animal; man's structure, +adapting him to stand erect; his ability to +exist in all climates; his power of subsisting on +varied food: all these facts of his physical nature +are associated with his superior mental power, but +do not produce it. The question recurs, What +enables him to stand at the head of the animal +creation?</p> + +<p>Perhaps the chief apparent distinctions between +man and other animals are <span class="locked">these:—</span></p> + +<p>1. The lowest races of men use tools; other +animals do not.</p> + +<p>2. The lowest human beings possess a verbal +language; other animals have none.</p> + +<p>3. Man has the capacity of self-culture, as an +individual; other animals have not.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> +4. Human beings, associated in society, are +capable of progress in civilization, by means of +science, art, literature, and religion; other animals +are not.</p> + +<p>5. Men have a capacity for religion; no animal, +except man, has this.</p> + +<p>The lowest races of men use tools, but no other +animal does this. This is so universally admitted +by science that the presence of the rudest tools of +stone is considered a sufficient trace of the presence +of man. If stone hatchets or hammers or arrowheads +are found in any stratum, though no human +bones are detected, anthropologists regard this as a +sufficient proof of the existence of human beings in +the period indicated by such a geologic formation. +The only tools used by animals in procuring food, +in war, or in building their homes, are their natural +organs: their beaks, teeth, claws, etc. It may be +added that man alone wears clothes; other animals +being sufficiently clothed by nature. No animals +make a fire, though they often suffer from cold; +but there is no race of men unacquainted with the +use of <span class="locked">fire.<a name="FNanchor_20" id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">20</a></span></p> + +<p>No animals possess a verbal language. Animals +can remember some of the words used by men, and +associate with them their meaning. But this is +not the use of language. It is merely the memory +of two associated facts,—as when the animal recollects +where he found food, and goes to the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> +place to look for it again. Animals have different +cries, indicating different wants. They use one +cry to call their mate, another to terrify their prey. +But this is not the use of verbal language. Human +language implies not merely an acquaintance +with the meaning of particular words, but the +power of putting them together in a sentence. +Animals have no such language as this; for, if +they had, it would have been learned by men. +Man has the power of learning any verbal language. +Adelung and Vater reckon over three +thousand languages spoken by men, and any man +can learn any of them. The negroes speak their +own languages in their own countries; they speak +Arabic in North Africa; they learn to speak English, +French, and Spanish in America, and Oriental +languages when they go to the East. If any animals +had a verbal language, with its vocabulary +and grammar, men would long ago have learned +it, and would have been able to converse with +them.</p> + +<p>Again, no animal except man is capable of self-culture, +as an individual. Animals are trained by +external influences; they do not teach themselves. +An old wolf is much more cunning than a young +one, but he has been made so by the force of circumstances. +You can teach your dog tricks, but +no dog has ever taught himself any. Yet the +lowest savages teach themselves to make tools, +to ornament their paddles and clubs, and acquire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> +certain arts by diligent effort. Birds will sometimes +practice the tunes which they hear played, +till they have learned them. They will also sometimes +imitate each other's songs. That is, they +possess the power of vocal imitation. But to imitate +the sounds we hear is not self-culture. It is +not developing a new power, but it is exercising +in a new way a natural gift. Yet we must admit +that in this habit of birds there is the rudiment, at +least, of self-education.</p> + +<p>All races of men are capable of progress in civilization. +Many, indeed, remain in a savage state +for thousands of years, and we cannot positively +prove that any particular race which has always +been uncivilized is capable of civilization. But we +are led to believe it from having known of so many +tribes of men who have emerged from apathy, ignorance, +and barbarism into the light of science and +art. So it was with all the Teutonic races,—the +Goths, Germans, Kelts, Lombards, Scandinavians. +So it was with the Arabs, who roamed for thousands +of years over the deserts, a race of ignorant +robbers, and then, filled with the great inspiration +of Islam, flamed up into a brilliant coruscation +of science, literature, art, military success, and +profound learning. What great civilizations have +grown up in China, India, Persia, Assyria, Babylon, +Phœnicia, Egypt, Greece, Rome, Carthage, +Etruria! But no such progress has ever appeared +among the animals. As their parents were, five<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> +thousand years ago, so, essentially, are they +now.</p> + +<p>Nor are animals religious, in the sense of worshiping +unseen powers higher than themselves. +My horse showed a sense of the supernatural, but +this is not worship.</p> + +<p>These are some of the most marked points of +difference between man and all other animals. +Now these can all be accounted for by the hypothesis +in which Locke and Leibnitz both agreed; +namely, that while animals are capable of reasoning +about facts, they are incapable of abstract +ideas. Or, we may say with Coleridge, that while +animals, in common with man, possess the faculty +of understanding, they do not possess that of reason. +Coleridge seems to have intended by this exactly +what Locke and Leibnitz meant by their statement. +When my dog Don heard the word "apple," he +thought of the particular concrete apple under the +tree; and not of apples in general, and their relation +to pears, peaches, etc. Don understood me +when I told him to go and get an apple, and +obeyed; but he would not have understood me if +I had remarked to him that apples were better than +pears, more wholesome than peaches, not so handsome +as grapes. I should then have gone into the +region of abstract and general ideas.</p> + +<p>Now it is precisely the possession of this power +of abstract thought which will explain the superiority +of man to all other animals. It explains the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> +use of tools; for a tool is an instrument prepared, +not for one special purpose, but to be used generally, +in certain ways. A baboon, like a man, might +pick up a particular stone with which to crack a +particular nut; but the ape does not make and +keep a stone hammer, to be used on many similar +occasions. A box of tools contains a collection of +saws, planes, draw-knives, etc., not made to use on +one occasion merely, but made for sawing, cutting, +and planing purposes generally.</p> + +<p>Still more evident is it that the power of abstraction +is necessary for verbal language. We do +not here use the common term "articulate speech," +for we can conceive of animals articulating their +vocal sounds. But "a word" is an abstraction. +The notion is lifted out of the concrete particular +fact, and deposited in the abstract general term. +All words, except proper names, are abstract; and +to possess and use a verbal language is impossible, +without the possession of this mental faculty.</p> + +<p>In regard to self-culture, it is clear that for any +steady progress one must keep before his mind an +abstract idea of what he wishes to do. This enables +him to rise above impulse, passion, instinct, +habit, circumstance. By the steady contemplation +of the proposed aim, one can arrange circumstances, +restrain impulse, direct one's activity, and +become really free.</p> + +<p>In like manner, races become developed in civilization +by the impact of abstract ideas. Sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +it is by coming in contact with other civilized +nations, which gives them an ideal superior to anything +before known. Sometimes the motive power +of their progress is the reception of truths of science, +art, literature, or religion.</p> + +<p>It is not necessary to show that without abstract, +universal, and necessary ideas no religion is possible; +for religion, being the worship of unseen +powers, conceived as existing, as active, as spiritual, +necessarily implies these ideas in the mind of +the worshiper.</p> + +<p>We find, then, in the soul of animals all active, +affectionate, and intelligent capacities, as in that +of man. The only difference is that man is capable +of abstract ideas, which give him a larger liberty of +action, which enable him to adopt an aim and pursue +it, and which change his affections from an instinctive +attachment into a principle of generous +love. Add, then, to the animal soul the capacity +for abstract ideas, and it would rise at once to the +level of man. Meantime, in a large part of their +nature, they have the same faculties with ourselves. +They share our emotions, and we theirs. They +are made "a little lower" than man, and if we +are souls, so surely are they.</p> + +<p>Are they immortal? To discuss this question +would require more space than we can here give to +it. For my own part, I fully believe in the continued +existence of all souls, at the same time assuming +their continued advance. The law of life<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> +is progress; and one of the best features in the +somewhat unspiritual theory of Darwin is its profound +faith in perpetual improvement. This theory +is the most startling optimism that has ever been +taught, for it makes perpetual progress to be the +law of the whole universe.</p> + +<p>Many of the arguments for the immortality of +man cannot indeed be used for our dumb relations, +the animals. We cannot argue from their universal +faith in a future life; nor contend that they +need an immortality on moral grounds, to recompense +their good conduct and punish their wickedness. +We might indeed adduce a reason implied +in our Saviour's parable, and believe that the poor +creatures who have received their evil things in this +life will be comforted in another. Moreover, we +might find in many animals qualities fitting them +for a higher state. There are animals, as we have +seen, who show a fidelity, courage, generosity, +often superior to what we see in man. The dogs +who have loved their master more than food, and +starved to death on his grave, are surely well fitted +for a higher existence. Jesse tells a story of a cat +which was being stoned by cruel boys. Men went +by, and did not interfere; but a dog, that saw +it, did. He drove away the boys, and then took +the cat to his kennel, licked her all over with his +tongue, and his conduct interested people, who +brought her milk. The canine nurse took care of +her till she was well, and the cat and dog remained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> +fast friends ever after. Such an action in a man +would have been called heroic; and we think such +a dog would not be out of place in heaven.</p> + +<p>Yet it is not so much on particular cases of animal +superiority that we rely, but on the difficulty +of conceiving, in any sense, of the destruction of +life. The principle of life, whether we call it soul +or body, matter or spirit, escapes all observation of +the senses. All that we know of it by observation +is that, beside the particles of matter which compose +an organized body, there is something else, +not cognizable by the senses, which attracts and +dismisses them, modifies and coördinates them. +The unity of the body is not to be found in its +sensible phenomena, but in something which escapes +the senses. Into the vortex of that life material +molecules are being continually absorbed, and from +it they are perpetually discharged. If death means +the dissolution of the body, we die many times in +the course of our earthly career, for every body is +said by human anatomists to be changed in all its +particles once in seven years. What then remains, +if all the particles go? The principle of organization +remains, and this invisible, persistent principle +constitutes the identity of every organized body. If +I say that I have the <em>same</em> body when I am fifty +which I had at twenty, it is because I mean by +"body" that which continues unaltered amid the +fast-flying particles of matter. This life principle +makes and remakes the material frame; that body<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> +does not make it. When what we call death intervenes, +all that we can assert is that the life principle +has done wholly and at once what it has +always been doing gradually and in part. What +happens to the material particles, we see: they become +detached from the organizing principle, and +relapse into simply mechanical and chemical conditions. +What has happened to that organizing +principle we neither see nor know; and we have +absolutely no reason at all for saying that it has +ceased to exist.</p> + +<p>This is as true of plants and of animals as of +men; and there is no reason for supposing that +when these die their principle of life is ended. It +probably has reached a crisis, which consists in +the putting on of new forms and ascending into +a higher order of organized existence.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="APROPOS OF TYNDALL"><a id="APROPOS">APROPOS OF TYNDALL</a><a name="FNanchor_21" id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">21</a></h2> + +<p>We have all read in our "Vicar of Wakefield" +the famous speech made by the venerable and +learned Ephraim Jenkinson to good Dr. Primrose: +"The cosmogony, or creation of the world, +has puzzled philosophers in all ages. Sanchoniathon, +Manetho, Berosus, and Ocellus Lucanus +have all attempted it in vain," etc. But we hardly +expected to have this question of cosmogony reopened +by an eminent scientist in an address to +the British Association. What "Sanchoniathon, +Manetho, Berosus, and Ocellus Lucanus have all +attempted in vain" Professor Tyndall has not +only discussed before a body of men learned in +the physical sciences, but has done it in such a +manner as to rouse two continents to a new interest +in the question. One party has immediately +accused him of irreligion and infidelity, while another +has declared his statements innocent if not +virtuous. But the question which has been least +debated is, What has the professor really said? +or, Has he said anything?</p> + +<p>The celebrated sentence which has occasioned +this excitement is as <span class="locked">follows:—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span> +"Abandoning all disguise, the confession that I +feel bound to make before you is, that I prolong +the vision backward across the boundary of the +experimental evidence, and discern in that matter +which we in our ignorance, and notwithstanding +our professed reverence for its Creator, have +hitherto covered with opprobrium, the promise +and potency of every form and quality of life."</p> + +<p>Does he, then, declare himself a materialist? A +materialist is one who asserts everything which +exists to be matter, or an affection of matter. +What, then, is matter, and how is that to be defined? +The common definition of matter is, that +which is perceived by the senses, or the substance +underlying sensible phenomena. By means of the +senses we perceive such qualities or phenomena as +resistance, form, color, perfume, sound. Whenever +we observe these phenomena, whenever we +see, hear, taste, touch, or smell, we attribute the +affections thus excited to an external substance, +which we call <em>matter</em>. But we are aware of other +phenomena which are <em>not</em> perceived by the senses,—such +as thought, love, and will. We are as +certain of their existence as we are of sensible +phenomena. I am as sure of the reality of love +as I am of the whiteness of chalk. By a law +of our mind, whenever we perceive sensible phenomena, +we necessarily attribute them to a substance +outside of ourselves, which we call matter. +And by another law, or the same law, whenever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> +we perceive the phenomena of consciousness, we +necessarily attribute them to a substance which we +call soul, mind, or spirit. All that we know of +matter, and all that we know of soul, is their phenomena, +and as these are entirely different, we are +obliged to assume that matter and mind are different. +None of the qualities or attributes of +matter belong to mind, none of those of mind to +matter.</p> + +<p>Does Tyndall deny this distinction? Apparently +not. He not only makes Bishop Butler declare, +with unanswerable power, that materialism +can never show any connection between molecular +processes and the phenomena of consciousness, but +he distinctly iterates this in his own person at the +end of the address; asserting that there is no +fusion possible between the two classes of facts, +those of sensation and those of consciousness. +Professor Tyndall, then, in the famous sentence +above quoted, does not declare himself a materialist +in the only sense in which the term has hitherto +been used. He does not pretend that sensation, +thought, emotion, and will are reducible, in the +last analysis, to solidity, extension, divisibility, +etc.; he positively and absolutely denies this.</p> + +<p>When Tyndall, therefore, asserts that he discerns +in matter the promise and potency of every +form and quality of life, he uses the word "matter" +in a new sense. He does not mean by it the +underlying subject of sensible phenomena. It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> +not the matter which we see, hear, touch, taste, +and smell. What is it then? It is something +beyond the limits of observation and experiment; +for he says that in order to discover it we must +"prolong the vision backward across the boundary +of the experimental evidence." In short, it is +something which we know nothing about. It is a +conjecture, an opinion, a theoretical matter. In +another place he calls this imaginary substance "a +cosmical life." This something, which shall be +the common basis of the phenomena of sense and +soul, not only is not known, but apparently is not +knowable. For he assures us that the very attempt +to understand this cosmical life which makes +the connection between physical and mental phenomena, +is "to soar in a vacuum," or "to try to +lift one's self by his own waistband."</p> + +<p>Of course, then, the contents of the famous +sentence are not <em>science</em>. It is not the great scientist, +the profound observer of nature, the distinguished +experimentalist, who speaks to us in that +sentence, but one who is theorizing, as we all have +a right to theorize. We also, if we choose, may +imagine some "cosmical life" behind both matter +and soul, as the common origin of both, and call +this life <em>spirit</em>. We shall then be thinking of +exactly the same substance that Tyndall is thinking +of, only we give it another name. He has +merely given another name to the great Being +behind all the phenomena of body and soul, out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> +which or whom all proceed. But to give another +name to a fact is not to tell us anything more +about it. All meaning having evaporated from the +word "matter," the sentence loses its whole significance, +and it appears that the alarming declaration +asserts nothing at all! In "abandoning all +disguise" Tyndall has run little risk, for our +analysis shows that he has not asserted anything +except, perhaps, this, that there is, in his judgment, +some unknown common basis in which matter +and mind both inhere. This assertion is not +alarming nor dangerous, for it is only what has +always been believed.</p> + +<p>As there is no materialism, in any known sense +of that term, in the doctrine of this address, so +likewise there is no atheism. In fact, in this same +sentence Tyndall speaks of the "creator" of what +he likes to call "matter" or "cosmical life." He +objects strongly to a creator who works mechanically, +and he seems to reprove Darwin for admitting +an original or primordial form, created +at first by the Deity. "The anthropomorphism, +which it seemed the object of Mr. Darwin to set +aside, is as firmly associated with the creation of a +few forms as with the creation of a multitude." +In another passage he says: "Is there not a temptation +to close to some extent with Lucretius, +when he affirms that nature is seen to do all +things spontaneously of herself without the meddling +of the gods?". But this last sentence shows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> +a singular vacillation in so clear a thinker as +Tyndall. How can one close "to some extent" +with such a statement as that of Lucretius? Either +the gods meddle, or they do not meddle. They +can hardly be considered as meddling "to some extent." +In still another passage he contrasts the +doctrine of evolution with the usual doctrine of +creation, rejecting the last in favor of the other, +because creation makes of God "an artificer, fashioned +after the human model, and acting by broken +efforts, as man is seen to act."</p> + +<p>All these expressions are somewhat vague, implying, +as it seems, a certain obscurity in Tyndall's +own thought. But it is not atheism. His "cosmical +life" probably is exactly what Cudworth +means by "plastic life." It is well known that +Cudworth, whose great work is a confutation of +all atheism, himself admits what he calls "a plastic +nature" in the universe as a subordinate instrument +of divine Providence. Just as Tyndall +objects to regarding the Deity as "an artificer," +Cudworth objects to the "mechanic theists," who +make the Deity act directly upon matter from +without, by separate efforts, instead of pouring a +creative and arranging life into nature. We can +easily see that Cudworth, like Tyndall, would +object to Darwin's one or two "primordial germs." +His "plastic nature" is working everywhere and +always, though under a divine guidance. It is "a +life," and therefore incorporeal. It is an unconscious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +life, which acts, not knowingly, but fatally. +Man, according to Cudworth, partakes of this life +from the life of the universe, just as he partakes +of heat and cold from the heat and cold of the +universe. Thus Cudworth, believing in some such +"cosmical life" as Tyndall imagines, conceives it +as being itself the organ and instrument of the +Deity. Tyndall, therefore, though less clear in +his statements than Cudworth, is not logically +involved in atheism by those statements, unless we +implicate in the same condemnation the writer +whose vast work constitutes the fullest arsenal of +weapons against all the forms of atheism.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, however, Tyndall does not come +to any clearness on this point, which in one possessing +such a lucidity of intellect must be occasioned +by his leaving his own domain of science +and venturing into this metaphysical world, with +which he is not so familiar. His acquaintance +with the history of these studies seems not to be +extensive. For example, he attributes to Herbert +Spencer, as if he were the discoverer, what both +Hobbes and Descartes had already stated, that +there is no necessary resemblance between our sensations +and the external objects from which they +are derived. In regard to a belief in God, he tells +us that in his weaker moments he loses it, or that +it becomes clouded and dim, but that when he is +at his best he accepts it most fully. This belief, +therefore, is not with Tyndall a matter of conviction,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> +founded on reason, but a question of moods. +No wonder, then, that he relegates religion to the +region of sentiment, and declares that it has nothing +to do with knowledge. It must not touch +any question of cosmogony, or, if it does, must "submit +to the control of science" in that field. But +what has science to do with cosmogony? Science +rests on observation of facts; but our professor +tells us that he obtains his great cosmological idea +of "a cosmical life" by prolonging his vision backward +"across the boundary of the experimental evidence." +Such science as this, which is based on +no experience, and is incapable of verification, has +hardly the right to warn religious belief away from +any field.</p> + +<p>Tyndall seems a little astray in making creation +and evolution contradictory and incompatible. +Evolution, he tells us, is the manifestation of a +power wholly inscrutable to the intellect of man. +We know that God is,—that is, we know it in our +better moods,—but <em>what</em> God is, we cannot ever +know. At all events we must not consider him as +a Creator. "Two courses," says Tyndall, "and +only two, are possible. Either let us open our +doors freely to the conception of creative acts, or, +abandoning them, let us radically change our notions +of matter." His objections to the idea of a +Creator appear to be (1) that it is "derived, not +from the study of Nature, but from the observation +of men;" and (2) that it represents the Deity "as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> +an artificer, fashioned after a human model, and +acting by broken efforts as man is seen to act."</p> + +<p>Are these objections sound? When we study +man, are we not then also studying Nature? Is +not man himself the highest manifestation of Nature? +If so, and if we see the quality of any +power best in its highest and fullest operations, +we can study the nature of God best by looking +into our own. We should, in fact, know very little +of Nature if we did not look within as well as without. +Tyndall justly demands unlimited freedom of +investigation in the pursuit of science. But whence +came this very idea of freedom except from the +human mind? Nothing in the external world is +free; all is fatal. Such ideas as cause, force, substance, +law, unity, ideality, are not observed in the +outward world—they are given by the activity of +the mind itself. Subtract these from our thought, +and we should know very little of Nature or its +origin.</p> + +<p>No doubt the idea of a Creator, and of one perfect +in wisdom, power, and goodness, is derived by +man from his own mind. But it is not necessary +that such a Creator should be an "artificer," or +proceed by "broken efforts." He may act by +evolution, or processes of development. He may +create perpetually, by a life flowing from himself +into all things. He may create the universe anew +at every moment—not as a man lights a torch +with a match and then goes away, but as the sun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> +creates his image in the water by a perpetual process. +Thus God may be regarded as <em>creating</em> each +animal and each plant, while he maintains the mysterious +force of development by which it grows +from its egg or its seed. The essential idea of +creation is an infinite cause, acting according to +a perfect intelligence, for a perfect good. There +is nothing, necessarily, of an artificer or of broken +efforts in this. It is the very idea of divine creation +given in the New Testament. "From whom, +and through whom, and to whom, are all things." +"In him, we live, and move, and have our being." +The theist may well accept the view given by +Goethe, in his little poem, "Gott, Gemüth, und +Welt."</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"What kind of God would He be who only pushes the universe from without?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lets the All of Things run round and round on his finger?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It becomes him far better to move the universe from within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To take Nature up into Himself, to let Himself down into Nature,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that whatever lives, and moves, and has its being in Him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never loses His power, never misses His spirit."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Such a conception of God, as a perpetual Creator, +is essential to the intellectual rest of the human +mind, and it is painful to see the irresolution of +Professor Tyndall in regard to it. "Clear and +confident as Jove" in the domain which is his own, +where his masterly powers of observation, discrimination, +and judgment leave him without a peer, +he seems shorn of his strength on entering this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> +field of metaphysics. He has warned theology not +to trespass on the grounds of science; or, if she +enters them, to submit to science as her superior. +Theology has been in the habit of treating science +in the same supercilious way; telling her that she +was an intruder if she ventured to discuss questions +of psychology or religion. This is equally +unwise on either part. Theologians should be glad +when men of science become seriously interested +in these great questions of the Whence and the +Whither. The address of Professor Tyndall is excellent +in its intention as well as in its candid and +manly treatment of the subject. Its indecision +and indistinctness are probably due to his having +accepted too implicitly the guidance of Spencer, +thus assuming that religious truth is unknowable, +that creation is impossible, and that only phenomena +can become objects of knowledge. "Insoluble +mystery" is therefore his final answer to the +questions he has himself raised.</p> + +<p>Goethe is wiser when he follows the Apostle +Paul, and regards the Deity as "the fullness which +filleth all in all." There is no unity to thought, +and no hope for scientific progress, more than for +moral culture, unless we see intelligence at the +centre, intelligence on the circumference of being. +To place an impenetrable darkness instead of an +unclouded light on the throne of the universe, +is to throw a shadow over the Creation.</p> + +<p>We say that there is no unity in thought without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> +this conviction. The only real unity we know +in the world is our own. All we see around us, including +our own body, is divisible, subject to alteration +and change. Only the ego, or soul, is conscious +of a perfect unity in a perpetual identity. +Unless we can attribute to the source of all being +a similar personal unity, there can be no coherence +to science, but it must forever remain fragmentary +and divided. This is what we mean by asserting +the personality of Deity. This idea reaches what +Lord Bacon calls "the vertical point of natural +philosophy" or "the summary law of Nature," +and constitutes, as he declares, "the union of all +things in a perpetual and uniform law."</p> + +<p>And unless we can recognize in the ultimate +fountain of being an intelligent purpose, the meaning +of the universe departs. Without intelligence +in the cause there is none in the effect. Then the +world has no meaning, life no aim. The universe +comes out of darkness, and is plunging into darkness +again.</p> + +<p>Take away from the domain of knowledge the +idea of a creating and presiding intelligence, and +there remains no motive for science itself. Professor +Tyndall is sagacious enough to see and candid +enough to admit that "without moral force to whip +it into action the achievements of the intellect +would be poor indeed," and that "science itself +not unfrequently derives motive power from ultra-scientific +sources." Faith in God, as an intelligent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> +creator and ruler of the world, has awakened +enthusiasm for scientific investigation among both +the Aryan and the Semitic races.</p> + +<p>The purest and highest form of monotheism +is that of Christianity; and in Christendom has +science made its largest progress. Not by martyrs +for science, but by martyrs for religion, has the +human mind been emancipated. Mr. Tyndall says +of scientific freedom, "We fought and won our +battle even in the middle ages." But the heroes +of intellectual liberty have been the heroes of +faith. Hundreds of thousands have died for a +religious creed; but how many have died for a +scientific theory? Luther went to Worms, and +maintained his opinions there in defiance of the +anathemas of the church and the ban of the empire, +but Galileo denied his most cherished convictions +on his knees. Galileo was as noble a character as +Luther; but science does not create the texture of +soul which makes so many martyrs in all the religious +sects of Christendom. Let the doctrine of +cosmical force supplant our faith in the Almighty, +and in a few hundred years science would probably +fade out of the world from pure inanition. The +world would probably not care enough for <em>anything</em> +to care for science. The light of eternity +must fall on this our human and earthly life, to +arouse the soul to a living and permanent interest +even in things seen and temporal.</p> + +<p>Professor Tyndall says: "Whether the views of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> +Lucretius, Darwin, and Spencer are right or wrong, +we claim the freedom to discuss them. The ground +which they cover is scientific ground."</p> + +<p>It is not only a right, but a duty to examine +these theories, since they are held seriously and +urged earnestly by able men. But we must doubt +whether they ought to claim the authority of +science. They are proposed by scientific men, and +they refer to scientific subjects. But these theories, +in their present development, belong to metaphysics +rather than to science. Science consists, +first, of observation of facts; secondly, of laws +inferred from those facts; and thirdly, of a verification +of those laws by new observation and experiment. +That which cannot be verified is no +part of science; astronomy is a science, since every +eclipse and occultation verifies its laws; geology +is a science, since every new observation of the +strata and their contents accords with the established +part of the system; chemistry is a science +for the same reason. But Darwin's theory of the +transformation of species by natural selection is as +yet unverified. "There is no evidence of a direct +descent of earlier from later species in the geological +succession of animals." So says Agassiz, and +on this point his testimony can hardly be impeached. +Professor W. Thompson, another good +geological authority, says: "In successive geological +formations, although new species are constantly +appearing, and there is abundant evidence of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> +progressive change, no single case has yet been +observed of one species passing through a series of +inappreciable modifications into another." Neither +has any such change taken place within historic +times, for the animals and plants found in the +tombs of Egypt are "identical, in all respects," +says M. Quatrefages, "with those now existing." +He adds the opinion, after a very careful and candid +examination of the hypothesis of Darwin, that +"the theory and the facts do not agree." Not +being verified, then, this theory is not yet science, +but an unverified mental hypothesis, that is, metaphysics.</p> + +<p>It is important that this should be distinctly +said, for when men eminent in science propound +new theories, these theories themselves are apt to +be regarded as science, and those who oppose them +are accused of being opposed to science. This is +the tendency which Professor Tyndall has so justly +described in this very address: "When the human +mind has achieved greatness and given evidence of +power in any domain, there is a tendency to credit +it with similar power in any other domain." Because +Tyndall is great in experimental science, +many are apt to accept his cosmological conclusions. +Because he is a great observer in natural +history, his metaphysical theories are supposed to +be supported by observation, and to rest on experience. +Professor Tyndall's own address terminates, +not in science, but nescience. It treats of a realm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> +of atoms and molecules whose existence science +has never demonstrated, and attributes to them +potencies which science has never verified. It is a +system, not made necessary by the stringent constraint +of facts, but avowedly constructed in order +to avoid the belief in an intelligent Creator, and a +universe marked by the presence of design. His +theory, he admits, no less than that of Darwin, +was not constructed in the pure interests of truth +for its own sake. There was another purpose in +both,—to get rid of a theology of final causes, of a +theology which conceives of God as a human artificer. +He wished to exclude religion from the +field of cosmogony, and forbid it to intrude on the +region of knowledge. Theologians have often been +reproached for studying "with a purpose," but it +seems that this is a frailty belonging not to theologians +only, but to all human beings who care a +good deal for what they believe.</p> + +<p>Professor Tyndall accepts religious faith as an +important element of human nature, but considers +it as confined to the sentiments, and as not based +in knowledge. He doubtless comes to this conclusion +from following too implicitly the traditions of +modern English psychology. These assume that +knowledge comes only from without, through the +senses, and never from within, through intuition. +This prepossession, singularly English and insular, +is thus stated by John Stuart Mill in his article on +Coleridge. "Sensation, and the mind's consciousness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> +of its own acts, are not only the exclusive +sources, but the sole materials of our knowledge. +There is no knowledge <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">a priori</i>; no truths cognizable +by the mind's inward light, and grounded on +intuitive evidence." These views have been developed +in England by the two Mills, Herbert +Spencer, Bain, and others, who have made great +efforts to show how sensations may be transformed +into thoughts; how association of ideas may have +developed instincts; how hereditary impressions, +repeated for a million years, may at last have +taken on the aspect of necessary truths. In short, +they have laid out great labor and ingenuity in +proving that a sensation may, very gradually, be +transformed into a thought.</p> + +<p>But all this labor is probably a waste of time +and of intellectual power. The attempt at turning +sensation into thought only results in turning +thought into sensation. It is an error that we +only know what we perceive through the senses, +or transform by the action of the mind. It is not +true that we only know that of which we can form +a sensible image. We know the existence of the +soul as certainly as that of the body. We know +the infinite and the eternal as well as we know the +finite and temporal. We know substance, cause, +immortal beauty, absolute truth, as surely as the +flitting phenomena which pass within the sphere +of sensational experience. These convictions belong, +not to the sphere of sentiment and emotion,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> +but to that of knowledge. It is because they +show us realities and not imaginations, that they +nerve the soul to such vast efforts in the sphere of +morals, literature, and religion.</p> + +<p>The arguments against the independent existence +of the soul which Tyndall puts into the +mouth of his Lucretian disciple are not difficult to +answer. "You can form no picture of the soul," +he says. No; and neither can we form a mental +picture of love or hate, of right and wrong, or +even of bodily pain and pleasure. "If localized +in the body, the soul must have form." Must a +pain, localized in the finger, have form? "When +a leg is amputated, in which part does the soul +reside?" We answer, that the soul resides in the +body, with reduced power. Its instrument is less +perfect than before—like a telescope which has +lost a lens. "If consciousness is an essential attribute +of the soul, where is the soul when consciousness +ceases by the depression of the brain?" +Is there any difficulty, we reply, in supposing that +the soul may pass sometimes into a state of torpor, +when its instrument is injured? A soul may +sleep, and so be unconscious, without being dead. +"The diseased brain may produce immorality: +can the reason control it? If not, what is the use +of the reason?" To this we answer that the soul +may lose its power with a diseased body; but +when furnished with another and better body, it +will regain it. "If you regard the body only as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> +an instrument, you will neglect to take care of it." +Does the astronomer neglect to take care of his +telescope?</p> + +<p>These answers to the Lucretian may be far +from complete; but they are at least as good as +the objections. The soul, no doubt, depends on +the body, and cannot do its work well when the +body is out of order; but does that prove it to be +the <em>result</em> of the body? If so, the same argument +would prove the carpenter to be the result of his +box of tools, and the organist to be the result of +his organ. The organist draws sweet music from +his instrument. But as his organ grows old, or is +injured by the weather, or the pipes crack, and the +pedals get out of order, the music becomes more +and more imperfect. At last the instrument is +wholly ruined, and the music wholly ceases. Is, +then, the organist dead, or was he only the result +of the organ? "Without phosphorus, no thought," +say the materialists. True. So, "without the +organ, no music." Just as in addition to the +musical instrument we need a performer, so in +addition to the brain we need a soul.</p> + +<p>There are two worlds of knowledge,—the outward +world, which is perceived through the senses, +and which belongs to physical science, and the +inward world, perceived by the nobler reason, and +from which a celestial light streams in, irradiating +the mind through all its powers. Religion and +science are not opposed, though different; their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> +spheres are different, though not to be divided. +Each is supreme in its own region, but each needs +the help of the other in order to do its own work +well. Professor Tyndall claims freedom of discussion +and inquiry for himself and his scientific +brethren, and says he will oppose to the death any +limitation of this liberty. He need not be anxious +on this point. Religious faith has already fought +this battle, and won for science as well as for itself +perfect liberty of thought. The Protestant +churches may say, "With a great sum obtained +we this freedom." By the lives of its confessors +and the blood of its martyrs has it secured for all +men to-day equal rights of thought and speech. +What neither Copernicus, Kepler, nor Galileo +could do was accomplished by the courage of +Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox, and +Oliver Cromwell.</p> + +<p>And now the freedom they obtained by such +sacrifices we inherit and enjoy: "We are free-born." +We may be thankful that in most countries +to-day no repression nor dictation prevents +any man from expressing his inmost thought. +We are glad that the most rabid unbelief and +extreme denial can be spoken calmly in the open +day. This is one great discovery of modern times, +that errors lose half their influence when openly +uttered. We owe this discovery to the Reformation. +The reformers made possible a toleration +much larger than their own; unwittingly, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> +seeking freedom for their own thoughts, they won +the same freedom for others, who went farther +than they. They builded better than they knew.</p> + +<div class="tb">*<span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<p>Professor Tyndall's address is tranquil yet earnest, +modest, and manly. But its best result is, that +it shows us the impotence of the method of sensation +to explain the mystery of the universe. It +has shown us clearly the limitations of "the understanding +judging by sense"—shown that it sees +our world clearly, but is blind to the other. It +can tell every blade of grass, and name every +mineral; but it stands helpless and hopeless before +the problem of being. Science and religion +may each say with the apostle, "We know in part +and prophesy in part." Together and united, +they may one day see and know the whole.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="LAW AND DESIGN IN NATURE"><a id="LAW">LAW AND DESIGN IN NATURE</a><a name="FNanchor_22" id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">22</a></h2> + +<p>In the paper which opens this discussion on +"Law and Design in Nature," Professor Newcomb +announces in a single sentence a proposition, the +truth or falsehood of which, he tells us, is "the sole +question presented for discussion in the present +series of papers."</p> + +<p>But, as soon as we examine this proposition, we +find that it contains not one sole question, but +three. The three are independent of each other, +and do not necessarily stand or fall together. They +are <span class="locked">these:—</span></p> + +<p>1. "The whole course of Nature, considered as +a succession of phenomena, is conditioned solely +by antecedent causes."</p> + +<p>2. In the action of these causes, "no regard to +consequences is traceable."</p> + +<p>3. And no regard to consequences is "necessary +to foresee the phenomena."</p> + +<p>Of these three propositions I admit the truth +of the first; deny the truth of the second; and, +for want of space, and because of its relative unimportance, +leave the third unexamined.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> +The first proposition is so evidently true, and +so universally admitted, that it was hardly worth +positing for discussion. It is merely affirming that +every natural phenomenon implies a cause. The +word "antecedent" is ambiguous, but, if it intends +logical and not chronological antecedence, it is unobjectionable. +So understood, we are merely asked +if we can accept the law of universal causation; +which I suppose we shall all readily do, since this +law is the basis of theology no less than of science. +Without it, we could not prove the existence of +the first cause. Professor Newcomb has divided +us into two conflicting schools, one of theology +and the other of science. Taking my place in the +school of theology, I think I may safely assert for +my brethren that on this point there is no conflict, +but that we all admit the truth of the law of universal +causation. It will be noticed that Professor +Newcomb has carefully worded his statement, so +as not to confine us to physical causes, nor even +to exclude supernatural causes from without, working +into the nexus of natural laws. He does not +say "antecedent physical causes," nor does he say +"causes which have existed from the beginning."</p> + +<p>Admitting thus the truth of the first proposition, +I must resolutely deny that of the second; since, +by accepting it, I should surrender the very cause +I wish to defend, namely, that we can perceive +design in Nature. Final causes are those which +"regard consequences." The principle of finality<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> +is defined by M. Janet (in his recent exhaustive +work, "Les Causes finales") as "the present determined +by the future." One example of the way +in which we can trace in Nature "a regard to consequences" +is so excellently stated by this eminent +philosopher that we will introduce it here: "Consider +what is implied in the egg of a bird. In the +mystery and night of incubation there comes, by +the combination of an incredible number of causes, +a living machine within the egg. It is absolutely +separated from the external world, but every part +is related to some future use. The outward physical +world which the creature is to inhabit is wholly +divided by impenetrable veils from this internal +laboratory; but a preëstablished harmony exists +between them. Without, there is light; within, +an optical machine adapted to it. Without, there +is sound; within, an acoustic apparatus. Without, +are vegetables and animals; within, organs for +their reception and assimilation. Without, is air; +within, lungs with which to breathe it. Without, +is oxygen; within, blood to be oxygenized. Without, +is earth; within, feet are being made to walk +on it. Without, is the atmosphere; within, are +wings with which to fly through it. Now imagine +a blind and idiotic workman, alone in a cellar, who +simply by moving his limbs to and fro should be +found to have forged a key capable of opening the +most complex lock. If we exclude design, this is +what Nature is supposed to be doing."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> +That design exists in Nature, and that earthly +phenomena actually depend on final causes as well +as on efficient causes, appears from the industry of +man. Man is certainly a part of Nature, and those +who accept evolution must regard him as the highest +development resulting from natural processes. +Now, all over the earth, from morning till evening, +men are acting for ends. "Regard to consequences +is traceable" in all their conduct. They +are moved by hope and expectation. They devise +plans, and act for a purpose. From the savage +hammering his flint arrowheads, up to a Shakespeare +composing "Hamlet," a Columbus seeking +a new way to Asia, or a Paul converting Europe +to a Syrian religion, human industry is a constant +proof that a large part of the course of Nature on +this earth is the result of design. And, as man +develops into higher stages, this principle of design +rises also from the simple to the complex, taking +ever larger forms. A ship, for instance, shows +throughout the adaptation of means to ends, by +which complex adaptations produce a unity of +result.</p> + +<p>And that there is no conflict between the action +of physical causes and final causes is demonstrated +by the works of man, since they all result from the +harmonious action of both. In studying human +works we ask two questions,—"How?" and +"Why?" We ask, "What is it for?" and "How +is it done?" The two lines of inquiry run parallel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> +and without conflict. So, in studying the +works of Nature, to seek for design does not obstruct +the investigation of causes, and may often +aid it. Thus Harvey is said to have been led to +the discovery of the circulation of the blood by +seeking for the use of the valves of the veins and +heart.</p> + +<p>The human mind is so constituted that, whenever +it sees an event, it is obliged to infer a cause. +So, whenever it sees adaptation, it infers design. +It is not necessary to know the end proposed, or +who were the agents. Adaptation itself, implying +the use of means, leads us irresistibly to infer intention. +We do not know who built Stonehenge, +or some of the pyramids, or what they were built +for; but no one doubts that they were the result +of design. This inference is strengthened if we +see combination toward an end, and preparation +made beforehand for a result which comes afterward. +From preparation, combination, and adaptation, +we are led to believe in the presence of human +design even where we did not before know +of the presence of human beings. A few rudely +shaped stones, found in a stratum belonging to the +Quaternary period, in which man had before not +been believed to exist, changed that opinion. Those +chipped flints showed adaptation; from adaptation +design was inferred; and design implied the presence +of man.</p> + +<p>Now, we find in Nature, especially in the organization<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> +and instincts of animals, myriads of similar +instances of preparation, combination, and adaptation. +Two explanations only of this occurred to +antiquity,—design and chance. Socrates, Plato, +and others, were led by such facts to infer the +creation of the world by an intelligent author—"ille +opifex rerum." Democritus, Epicurus, and +Lucretius, ascribed it to the fortuitous concourse +of atoms. But modern science has expelled chance +from the universe, and substituted law. Laplace, +observing forty-three instances in the solar system +of planets and their satellites revolving on their +axes or moving in their orbits, from west to east, +declared that this could not be a mere coincidence. +Chance, therefore, being set aside, the question +takes another form: "Did the cosmos that we see +come by design or by law?"</p> + +<p>But does this really change the question? +Granting, for example, the truth of the theory +of the development of all forms of life, under the +operation of law, from a primal cell, we must then +ask, "Did these <em>laws</em> come by chance or by design?" +It is not possible to evade that issue. If +the universe resulted from non-intelligent forces, +those forces themselves must have existed as the +result of chance or of intelligence. If you put out +the eyes, you leave blindness; if you strike intelligence +out of the creative mystery, you leave blind +forces, the result of accident. Whatever is not +from intelligence is from accident. To substitute<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> +law for chance is merely removing the difficulty a +little further back; it does not solve it.</p> + +<p>To eliminate interventions from the universe is +not to remove design. The most profound theists +have denied such interruptions of the course of Nature. +Leibnitz is an illustrious example of this. +Janet declares him to have been the true author of +the theory of evolution, by his "Law of Continuity," +of "Insensible Perceptions," and of "Infinitely +Small Increments." Yet he also fully believed +in final causes. Descartes, who objected to some +teleological statements, believed that the Creator +imposed laws on chaos by which the world emerged +into a cosmos. We know that existing animals +are evolved by a continuous process from eggs, and +existing vegetables by a like process from seeds. +No one ever supposed that there was less of design +on this account in their creation. So, if all existing +things came at first by a like process from a +single germ, it would not argue less, but far more, +of design in the universe.</p> + +<p>The theory of "natural selection" does not +enable us to dispense with final causes. This +theory requires the existence of forces working +according to the law of heredity and the law of +variation, together with a suitable environment. +But whence came this arrangement, by which a +law of heredity was combined with a law of variation, +and both made to act in a suitable environment? +Here we find again the three marks of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> +designing intelligence: preparation, combination, +adaptation. That intelligence which combines and +adapts means to ends is merely remanded to the +initial step of the process, instead of being allowed +to act continuously along the whole line of evolution. +Even though you can explain by the action +of mechanical forces the whole development of the +solar system and its contents from a nebula, you +have only accumulated all the action of a creative +intelligence in the nebula itself. Because I can +explain the mechanical process by which a watch +keeps time, I have not excluded the necessity of a +watchmaker. Because, walking through my neighbor's +grounds, I come upon a water-ram pumping +up water by a purely mechanical process, I do not +argue that this mechanism makes the assumption +of an inventor superfluous. In human industry +we perceive a power capable of using the blind +forces of Nature for an intelligent end; which prepares +beforehand for the intended result; which +combines various conditions suited to produce it, +and so creates order, system, use. But we observe +in Nature exactly similar examples of order, method, +and system, resulting from a vast number of combinations, +correlations, and adaptations of natural +forces. Man himself is such a result. He is an +animal capable of activity, happiness, progress. +But innumerable causes are combined and harmonized +in his physical frame, each necessary to +this end. As the human intelligence is the only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +power we know capable of accomplishing such +results, analogy leads us to assume that a similar +intelligence presides over the like combinations of +means to ends in Nature. If any one questions +the value of this argument from analogy, let him +remember how entirely we rely upon it in all the +business of life. We <em>know</em> only the motives which +govern our own actions; but we infer by analogy +that others act from similar motives. Knowing +that we ourselves combine means designed to effect +ends, when we see others adapting means to ends, +we assume that they act also with design. Hence +we have a right to extend the argument further +and higher.</p> + +<p>The result of what I have said is this: The +phenomena of the universe cannot be satisfactorily +explained except by the study both of efficient +causes and of final causes. Routine scientists, +confining themselves to the one, and routine theologians, +confining themselves to the other, may +suppose them to be in conflict. But men of larger +insight, like Leibnitz, Newton, Descartes, and +Bacon, easily see the harmony between them. +Like Hegel they say: "Nature is no less artful +than powerful; it attains its end while it allows +all things to act according to their constitution;" +or they declare with Bacon that "the highest link +of Nature's chain is fastened to the foot of Jupiter's +chair." But the belief in final causes does +not imply belief in supernatural intervention, nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +of any disturbance in the continuity of natural +processes. It means that Nature is pervaded by +an intelligent presence; that mind is above and +around matter; that mechanical laws are themselves +a manifestation of some providing wisdom, +and that when we say Nature we also say <span class="locked">God.<a name="FNanchor_23" id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">23</a></span></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="HISTORICAL_AND_BIOGRAPHICAL" id="HISTORICAL_AND_BIOGRAPHICAL"> +<span class="larger">HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL</span></a></h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2 title="THE TWO CARLYLES, OR CARLYLE PAST AND PRESENT"><a id="CARLYLES">THE TWO CARLYLES, OR CARLYLE PAST AND PRESENT</a><a name="FNanchor_24" id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">24</a></h2> + +<p>In Thomas Carlyle's earlier days, when he followed +a better inspiration than his present,—when +his writings were steeped, not in cynicism, +but in the pure human love of his fellow beings,—in +the days when he did not worship Force, but +Truth and Goodness,—in those days, it was the +fashion of critics to pass the most sweeping censures +on his writings as "affected," "unintelligible," +"extravagant." But he worked his way on, +in spite of that superficial criticism,—he won for +himself an audience; he gained renown; he became +authentic. <em>Now</em>, the same class of critics +admire and praise whatever he writes. For the +rule with most critics is that of the bully in school +and college,—to tyrannize over the new boys, to +abuse the strangers, but to treat with respect whoever +has bravely fought his way into a recognized +position. Carlyle has fought his way into the position +of a great literary chief,—so now he may be +ever so careless, ever so willful, and he will be spoken +of in high terms by all monthlies and quarterlies. +When he deserved admiration, he was treated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> +with cool contempt; now that he deserves the sharpest +criticism, not only for his false moral position, +but for his gross literary sins, the critics treat him +with deference and respect.</p> + +<p>But let us say beforehand that we can never +write of Thomas Carlyle with bitterness. We +have received too much good from him in past +days. He is our "Lost Leader," but we have +loved and honored him as few men were ever loved +and honored. It is therefore with tenderness, and +not any cold, indifferent criticism, that we find +fault with him now. We shall always be grateful +to the real Carlyle, the old Carlyle of "Sartor Resartus," +of the "French Revolution," of the "Life +of Schiller," of "Heroes and Hero-Worship," and +of that long and noble series of articles in the +Edinburgh, Foreign Review, Westminster, and +Frazer, each of which illuminated some theme, and +threw the glory of genius over whatever his mind +touched or his pencil drew.</p> + +<div class="tb">*<span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<p>Carlyle's "Frederick the <span class="locked">Great"<a name="FNanchor_25" id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">25</a></span> seems to us a +badly written book. Let us consider the volume +containing the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth +chapters. Nothing in these chapters is brought +out clearly. When we have finished the book, the +mind is filled with a confusion of vague images.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> +We know that Mr. Carlyle is not bound to "provide +us with brains" as well as with a history, but +neither was he so bound in other days. Yet no +such confusion was left after reading the "French +Revolution." How brilliantly distinct was every +leading event, every influential person, every pathetic +or poetic episode, in that charmed narrative! +Who can forget Carlyle's account of the "Menads," +the King's "Flight to Varennes," the Constitutions +that "would not march," the "September +Massacres," "Charlotte Corday,"—every chief +tragic movement, every grotesque episode, moving +forward, distinct and clear, to the final issue, "a +whiff of grapeshot"? Is there anything like that +in this confused "Frederick"?</p> + +<p>Compare, for example, the chapters on Voltaire +in the present volume with the article on Voltaire +published in 1829.</p> + +<p>The sixteenth book is devoted to the ten years +of peace which followed the second Silesian war. +These were from 1746 to 1756. The book contains +fifteen chapters. Carlyle begins, in chapter +i., by lamenting that there is very little to be +known or said about these ten years. "Nothing +visible in them of main significance but a crash of +authors' quarrels, and the crowning visit of Voltaire." +Yet one would think that matter enough +might be found in describing the immense activity +of Friedrich, of which Macaulay says, "His exertions +were such as were hardly to be expected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +from a human body or a human mind." During +these years Frederick brought a seventh part of +his people into the army, and organized and drilled +it under his own personal inspection, till it became +the finest in Europe. He compiled a code of laws, +in which he, among the first, abolished torture. +He made constant journeys through his dominions, +examining the condition of manufactures, +arts, commerce, and agriculture. He introduced +the strictest economy into the expenditures of the +state. He indulged himself, indeed, in various +architectural extravagances at Berlin and Potsdam,—but +otherwise saved every florin for his +army. He wrote "Memoirs of the House of +Brandenburg," and an epic poem on the "Art of +War." But our author disdains to give us an +account of these things. They are not picturesque, +they can be told in only general terms, and Carlyle +will tell us only what an eyewitness could see or a +listener hear. Accordingly, instead of giving us +an account of these great labors of his hero, he +inserts (chapter ii.) "a peep at Voltaire and his +divine Emilie," "a visit to Frederick by Marshal +Saxe;" (chapter iii.) a long account of Candidate +Linsenbarth's visit to the king; "Sir Jonas +Hanway stalks across the scene;" the lawsuit of +Voltaire about the Jew Hirsch; "a demon news-writer +gives an idea of Friedrich;" the quarrel of +Voltaire and Maupertuis; "Friedrich is visible in +Holland to the naked eye for some minutes."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +This is very unsatisfactory. Reports of eyewitnesses +are, no doubt, picturesque and valuable; but +so only on condition of being properly arranged, +and tending, in their use, toward some positive +result. Then the tone of banter, of irony, almost +of persiflage, is discouraging. If the whole story +of Friedrich is so unintelligible, uninteresting, or +incommunicable, why take the trouble to write it? +The <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">poco-curante</i> air with which he narrates, as +though it were of no great consequence whether he +told his story or not, contrasts wonderfully with +his early earnestness. Carlyle writes this history +like a man thoroughly <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">blasé</i>. Impossible for him +to take any interest in it himself,—how, then, does +he expect to interest us? Has he not himself told +us, in his former writings, that the man who +proposes to teach others anything must be good +enough to believe it first himself?</p> + +<p>Here is the problem we have to solve. How +came this change from the Carlyle of the Past to +the Carlyle of the Present,—from Carlyle the +universal believer to Carlyle the universal skeptic,—from +him to whom the world was full of wonder +and beauty, to him who can see in it nothing but +Force on the one side and Shams on the other? +What changed that tender, loving, brave soul into +this hard cynic? And how was it, as Faith and +Love faded out of him, that the life passed from +his thought, the glory from his pen, and the +page, once alive with flashing ideas, turned into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span> +this confused heap of rubbish, in which silver +spoons, old shoes, gold sovereigns, and copper pennies +are pitched out promiscuously, for the patient +reader to sift and pick over as he can? In reading +the Carlyle of thirty years ago, we were like +California miners,—come upon a rich <em>placer</em>, +never before opened, where we could all become +rich in a day. Now the reader of Carlyle is a +<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">chiffonier</i>, raking in a heap of street dust for whatever +precious matters may turn up.</p> + +<p>To investigate this question is our purpose now,—and +in doing so we will consider, in succession, +these two Carlyles.</p> + +<p>I. It was about the year 1830 that readers of +books in this vicinity became aware of a new power +coming up in the literary republic. Opinions concerning +him varied widely. To some he seemed a +Jack Cade, leader of rebels, foe to good taste and all +sound opinions. Especially did his admiration for +Goethe and for German literature seem to many +preposterous and extravagant. It was said of +these, that "the force of folly could no further +go,"—that they "constituted a burlesque too +extravagant to be amusing." The tone of Carlyle +was said to be of "unbounded assumption;" his +language to be "obscure and barbarous;" his +ideas composed of "extravagant paradoxes, familiar +truths or familiar falsehoods;" "wildest extravagance +and merest silliness."</p> + +<p>But to others, and especially to the younger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> +men, this new writer came, opening up unknown +worlds of beauty and wonder. A strange influence, +unlike any other, attracted us to his writing. +Before we knew his name, we knew <em>him</em>. We +could recognize an article by our new author as +soon as we opened the pages of the Foreign Review, +Edinburgh, or Westminster, and read a few +paragraphs. But it was not the style, though +marked by a singular freedom and originality—not +the tone of kindly humor, the good-natured +irony, the happy illustrations brought from afar,—not +the amount of literary knowledge, the familiarity +with German, French, Italian, Spanish +literature,—not any or all of these which so bewitched +us. We knew a young man who used to +walk from a neighboring town to Boston every +week, in order to read over again two articles by +Carlyle in two numbers of the Foreign Review +lying on a table in the reading-room of the Athenæum. +This was his food, in the strength of +which he could go a week, till hunger drove him +back to get another meal at the same table. We +knew other young men and young women who +taught themselves German in order to read for +themselves the authors made so luminous by this +writer. Those were counted fortunate who possessed +the works of our author, as yet unpublished +in America,—his "Life of Schiller," his "German +Romance," his Review articles. What, then, +was the charm,—whence the fascination?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> +To explain this we must describe a little the +state of literature and opinion in this vicinity at +the time when Carlyle's writings first made their +appearance.</p> + +<p>Unitarianism and Orthodoxy had fought their +battle, and were resting on their arms. Each had +intrenched itself in certain positions, each had won +to its side most of those who legitimately belonged +to it. Controversy had done all it could, and had +come to an end. Among the Unitarians, the so-called +"practical preaching" was in vogue; that +is, ethical and moral essays, pointing out the goodness +of being good, and the excellence of what was +called "moral virtue." There was, no doubt, a +body of original thinkers and writers,—better +thinkers and writers, it may be, than we have now,—who +were preparing the way for another advance. +Channing had already unfolded his doctrine +of man, of which the central idea is, that +human nature is not to be moulded by religion, +but to be developed by it. Walker, Greenwood, +Ware, and their brave associates, were conducting +this journal with unsurpassed ability. But something +more was needed. The general character of +preaching was not of a vitalizing sort. It was +much like what Carlyle says of preaching in England +at the same period: "The most enthusiastic +Evangelicals do not preach a Gospel, but keep +describing how it should and might be preached; +to awaken the sacred fire of faith is not their endeavor;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> +but at most, to describe how faith shows +and acts, and scientifically to distinguish true faith +from false." It is "not the Love of God which is +taught, but the love of the Love of God."</p> + +<p>According to this, God was outside of the world, +at a distance from his children, and obliged to +communicate with them in this indirect way, by +breaking through the walls of natural law with an +occasional miracle. There was no door by which +he could enter into the sheepfold to his sheep. +Miracles were represented, even by Dr. Channing, +as abnormal, as "violations of the laws of nature;" +something, therefore, unnatural and monstrous, +and not to be believed except on the best evidence. +God could not be supposed to break through the +walls of this house of nature, except in order to +speak to his children on some great occasions. +That he had done it, in the case of Christianity, +could be proved by the eleven volumes of Dr. +Lardner, which showed the Four Gospels to have +been written by the companions of Christ, and not +otherwise.</p> + +<p>The whole of this theory rested, it will be observed, +on a sensuous system of mental philosophy. +"All knowledge comes through the senses," was +its foundation. Revelation, like every other form +of knowledge, must come through the senses. A +miracle, which appeals to the sight, touch, hearing, +is the only possible proof of a divine act. For, +in the last analysis, all our theology rests on our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> +philosophy. Theology, being belief, must proceed +according to those laws of belief, whatever +they are, which we accept and hold. The man +who thinks that all knowledge comes through the +senses must receive his theological knowledge also +that way, and no other. This was the general +opinion thirty or forty years ago; hence this theory +of Christianity, which supposes that God is +obliged to break his own laws in order to communicate +it.</p> + +<p>But the result of this belief was harmful. It +tended to make our religion formal, our worship +a mere ceremony; it made real communication +with God impossible; it turned prayer into a +self-magnetizing operation; it left us virtually +"without God and hope in the world." Thanks +to Him who never leaves himself without a witness +in the human heart, this theory was often nullified +in practice by the irrepressible instincts which it +denied, by the spiritual intuitions which it ridiculed. +Even Professor Norton, its chief champion, +had a heart steeped in the sweetest piety. Denying, +intellectually, all intuitions of God, Duty, +and Immortality, his beautiful and tender hymns +show the highest spiritual insight. Still it cannot +be denied that this theory tended to dry up the +fountains of religious faith in the human heart, +and to leave us in a merely mechanical and unspiritualized +world.</p> + +<p>Now the first voice which came to break this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> +enchantment was, to many, the voice of Thomas +Carlyle. It needed for this end, it always needs, +a man who could come face to face with Truth. +Every great idol-breaker, every man who has delivered +the world from the yoke of Forms, has +been one who was able to see the substance of +things, who was gifted with the insight of realities. +Forms of worship, forms of belief, at first the +channels of life, through which the Living Spirit +flowed into human hearts, at last became petrified, +incrusted, choked. A few drops of the vital +current still ooze slowly through them, and our +parched lips, sucking these few drops, cling all the +more closely to the form as it becomes less and +less a vehicle of life. The poorest word, old and +trite, is precious when there is no open vision. +We do well continually to resort to the half-dead +form, "till the day dawn, and the day-star arise in +our hearts."</p> + +<p>But at last there comes a man capable of dispensing +with the form,—a man endowed with a +high degree of the intuitive faculty,—a born seer, +a prophet, seeing the great realities of the universe +with open vision. The work of such a man is to +break up the old formulas and introduce new light +and life. This work was done for the Orthodox +thirty years ago by the writings of Coleridge; for +the Unitarians in this vicinity, by the writings of +Thomas Carlyle.</p> + +<p>This was the secret of the enthusiasm felt for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> +Carlyle, in those days, by so many of the younger +men and women. He taught us to look at realities +instead of names, at substance instead of surface,—to +see God in the world, in nature, in life, +in providence, in man,—to see divine truth and +beauty and wonder everywhere around. He taught +that the only organ necessary by which to see the +divine in all things was sincerity, or inward truth. +And so he enabled us to escape from the form into +the spirit, he helped us to rise to that plane of +freedom from which we could see the divine in the +human, the infinite in the finite, God in man, +heaven on earth, immortality beginning here, eternity +pervading time. This made for us a new +heaven and a new earth, a new religion and a new +life. Faith was once more possible, a faith not +bought by the renunciation of mature reason or +the beauty and glory of the present hour.</p> + +<p>But all this was taught us by our new prophet, +not by the intellect merely, but by the spirit in +which he spoke. He did not seem to be giving us +a new creed, so much as inspiring us with a new +life. That which came from his experience went +into ours. Therefore it might have been difficult, +in those days, for any of his disciples to state what +it was that they had learned from him. They had +not learned his doctrine,—they had absorbed it. +Hence, very naturally, came the imitations of +Carlyle, which so disgusted the members of the +old school. Hence the absurd Carlylish writing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> +the feeble imitations by honest, but weak disciples +of the great master. It was a pity, but not unnatural, +and it soon passed by.</p> + +<p>As Carlyle thus did his work, not so much +by direct teaching as by an influence hidden in +all that he said, it did not much matter on what +subject he wrote,—the influence was there still. +But his articles on Goethe were the most attractive, +because he asserted that in this patriarch of +German literature he had found one who saw in +all things their real essence, one whose majestic +and trained intelligence could interpret to us in all +parts of nature and life the inmost quality, the +<i xml:lang="it" lang="it">terza essenza</i>, as the Italian Platonists called it, +which made each itself. Goethe was announced +as the prophet of Realism. He, it should seem, +had perfectly escaped from words into things. He +saw the world, not through dogmas, traditions, +formulas, but as it was in itself. To him</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i6q">"the world's unwithered countenance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was fresh as on creation's day."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Consider the immense charm of such hopes as +these! No wonder that the critics complained +that the disciples of Carlyle were "insensible to +ridicule." What did they care for the laughter, +which seemed to them, in their enthusiasm, like +"the crackling of thorns under the pot." Ridicule, +in fact, never touches the sincere enthusiast. +It is a good and useful weapon against affectation, +but it falls, shivered to pieces, from the magic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span> +breastplate of truth. No sincere person, at work +in a cause which he knows to be important, ever +minds being laughed at.</p> + +<p>But besides his admirable discussions of Goethe, +Carlyle's "Life of Schiller" opened the portals of +German literature, and made an epoch in biography +and criticism. It was a new thing to read a +biography written with such enthusiasm,—to find +a critic who could really write with reverence and +tender love of the poet whom he criticised. Instead +of taking his seat on the judicial bench, and +calling his author up before him to be judged as +a culprit, Carlyle walks with Schiller through the +circles of his poems and plays, as Dante goes with +Virgil through the Inferno and Paradiso. He +accepts the great poet as his teacher and <span class="locked">master,<a name="FNanchor_26" id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">26</a></span> +a thing unknown before in all criticism. It was +supposed that a biographer would become a mere +Boswell if he looked up to his hero, instead of +looking down on him. It was not understood that +it was that "angel of the world," Reverence, +which had exalted even a poor, mean, vain fool, +like Boswell, and enabled him to write one of the +best books ever written. It was not his reverence +for Johnson which made Boswell a fool,—his +reverence for Johnson made him, a fool, capable of +writing one of the best books of modern times.</p> + +<p>This capacity of reverence in Carlyle—this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> +power of perceiving a divine, infinite quality in +human souls—tinges all his biographical writing +with a deep religious tone. He wrote of Goethe, +Schiller, Richter, Burns, Novalis, even Voltaire, +with reverence. He could see their defects easily +enough, he could playfully expose their weaknesses; +but beneath all was the sacred undertone of reverence +for the divine element in each,—for that +which God had made and meant them to be, and +which they had realized more or less imperfectly +in the struggle of life. The difference between +the reverence of a Carlyle and that of a Boswell +is, that one is blind and the other intelligent. The +one worships his hero down to his shoes and stockings, +the other distinguishes the divine idea from +its weak embodiment.</p> + +<p>Two articles from this happy period—that on +the "Signs of the Times" and that called "Characteristics"—indicate +some of Carlyle's leading +ideas concerning right thinking and right living. +In the first, he declares the present to be an age +of mechanism,—not heroic, devout, or philosophic. +All things are done by machinery. "Men +have no faith in individual endeavor or natural +force." "Metaphysics has become material." +Government is a machine. All this he thinks +evil. The living force is in the individual soul,—not +mechanic, but dynamic. Religion is a calculation +of expediency, not an impulse of worship; no +thousand-voiced psalm from the heart of man to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> +invisible Father, the Fountain of all goodness, +beauty, and truth, but a contrivance by which a +small quantum of earthly enjoyment may be exchanged +for a much larger quantum of celestial +enjoyment. "Virtue is pleasure, is profit." "In +all senses we worship and follow after power, which +may be called a physical pursuit." (Ah, Carlyle +of the Present! does not that wand of thine old +true self touch thee?) "No man now loves truth, +as truth must be loved, with an infinite love; but +only with a finite love, and, as it were, <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">par amours</i>."</p> + +<p>In the other article, "Characteristics," printed +two years later, in 1831, he unfolds the doctrine of +"Unconsciousness" as the sign of health in soul +as well as body. He finds society sick everywhere; +he finds its religion, literature, science, all +diseased, yet he ends the article, as the other was +ended, in hope of a change to something better.</p> + +<p>These two articles may be considered as an introduction +to his next great work, "Sartor Resartus," +or the "Clothes-Philosophy." Here, in a +vein of irony and genial humor, he unfolds his +doctrine of substance and form. The object of all +thought and all experience is to look through +the clothes to the living beneath them. According +to his book, all human institutions are the +clothing of society; language is the garment of +thought, the heavens and earth the time-vesture +of the Eternal. So, too, are religious creeds and +ceremonies the clothing of religion; so are all symbols<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +the vesture of some idea; so are the crown +and sceptre the vesture of government. This book +is the autobiography of a seeker for truth. In it +he is led from the shows of things to their innermost +substance, and as in all his other writings, he +teaches here also that sincerity, truthfulness, is the +organ by which we are led to the solid rock of +reality, which underlies all shows and shams.</p> + +<p>II. We now come to treat of Carlyle in his present +aspect,—a much less agreeable task. We +leave Carlyle the generous and gentle, for Carlyle +the hard cynic. We leave him, the friend of man, +lover of his race, for another Carlyle, advocate of +negro slavery, worshiper of mere force, sneering +at philanthropy, and admiring only tyrants, despots, +and slaveholders. The change, and the steps +which led to it, chronologically and logically, it is +our business to scrutinize,—not a grateful occupation +indeed, but possibly instructive and useful.</p> + +<p>Thomas Carlyle, after spending his previous life +in Scotland, and from 1827 to 1834 in his solitude +at Craigenputtoch, removed to London in the latter +year, when thirty-eight years old. Since then he +has permanently resided in London, in a house +situated on one of the quiet streets running at +right angles with the Thames. He came to London +almost an unknown man; he has there become +a great name and power in literature. He has had +for friends such men as John Stuart Mill, Sterling, +Maurice, Leigh Hunt, Browning, Thackeray, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> +Emerson. His "French Revolution" was published +in 1837; "Sartor Resartus" (published +in Frazer in 1833, and in Boston in a volume in +1836) was put forth collectively in 1838; and +in the same year his "Miscellanies" (also collected +and issued in Boston in 1838) were published in +London, in four volumes. "Chartism" was issued +in 1839. He gave four courses of Lectures in +Willis's rooms "to a select but crowded audience," +in 1837, 1838, 1839, and 1840. Only the last of +these—"Heroes and Hero-Worship"—was published. +"Past and Present" followed in 1843, +"Oliver Cromwell" in 1845. In 1850 he printed +"Latter-Day Pamphlets," and subsequently his +"Life of Sterling" (1851), and the four volumes, +now issued, of "Frederick the Great."</p> + +<p>The first evidence of an altered tendency is perhaps +to be traced in the "French Revolution." +It is a noble and glorious book; but, as one of his +friendly critics has said, "its philosophy is contemptuous +and mocking, and it depicts the varied +and gigantic characters which stalk across the +scene, not so much as responsible and living mortals, +as the mere mechanical implements of some +tremendous and irresistible destiny." In "Heroes +and Hero-Worship" the habit has grown of revering +mere will, rather than calm intellectual and +moral power. The same thing is shown in "Past +and Present," in "Cromwell," and in "Latter-Day +Pamphlets," which the critic quoted above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> +says is "only remarkable as a violent imitation of +himself, and not of his better self." For the works +of this later period, indeed, the best motto would +be that verse from Daniel: "He shall exalt himself, +and magnify himself, and speak marvelous +things; neither shall he regard the God of his +fathers, but in his stead shall he honor the God +of Forces, a god whom his fathers knew not."</p> + +<p>Probably this apostasy from his better faith had +begun, before this, to show itself in conversation. +At least Margaret Fuller, in a letter dated 1846, +finds herself in his presence admiring his brilliancy, +but "disclaiming and rejecting almost +everything he said." "For a couple of hours," +says she, "he was talking about poetry, and the +whole harangue was one eloquent proclamation of +the defects in his own mind." "All Carlyle's talk, +another evening," says she, "was a defence of mere +force,—success the test of right; if people would +not behave well, put collars round their necks; +find a hero, and let them be his slaves." "Mazzini +was there, and, after some vain attempts to +remonstrate, became very sad. Mrs. Carlyle said +to me, 'These are but opinions to Carlyle; but to +Mazzini, who has given his all, and helped bring +his friends to the scaffold, in pursuit of such subjects, +it is a matter of life and death.'"</p> + +<p>As this mood of Mr. Carlyle comes out so +strongly in the "Latter-Day Pamphlets," it is perhaps +best to dwell on them at greater leisure.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span> +The first is "The Present Time." In this he +describes Democracy as inevitable, but as utterly +evil; calls for a government; finds most European +governments, that of England included, to be shams +and falsities,—no-government, or drifting, to be a +yet greater evil. The object, he states, is to find +the noblest and best men to govern. Democracy +fails to do this; for universal balloting is not adequate +to the task. Democracy answered in the old +republics, when the mass were slaves, but will not +answer now. The United States are no proof of +its success, for (1st) anarchy is avoided merely by +the quantity of cheap land, and (2d) the United +States have produced no spiritual results, but only +material. Democracy in America is no-government, +and "its only feat is to have produced eighteen +millions of the greatest <em>bores</em> ever seen in the +world." Mr. Carlyle's plan, therefore, is to find, +somehow, the <em>best man</em> for a ruler, to make him a +despot, to make the mass of the English and Irish +slaves, to beat them if they will not work, to shoot +them if they still refuse. The only method of finding +this best man, which he suggests, is to <em>call for +him</em>. Accordingly, Mr. Thomas Carlyle <em>calls</em>, saying, +"Best man, come forward, and govern."</p> + +<p>The sum, therefore, of his recipe for the diseases +of the times is <span class="smcap">Slavery</span>.</p> + +<p>The second pamphlet is called "Model Prisons," +and the main object of this is to ridicule all attempts +at helping men by philanthropy or humanity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> +The talk of "Fraternity" is nonsense, and +must be drummed out of the world. Beginning +with model prisons, he finds them much too good +for the "scoundrels" who are shut up there. He +would have them whipped and hung (seventy +thousand in a year, we suppose, as in bluff King +Harry's time, with no great benefit therefrom). +"Revenge," he says, "is a right feeling against bad +men,—only the excess of it wrong." The proper +thing to say to a bad man is, "Caitiff, I hate thee." +"A collar round the neck, and a cart-whip over +the back," is what he thinks would be more just to +criminals than a model prison. The whole effort +of humanity should be to help the industrious and +virtuous poor; the criminals should be swept out of +the way, whipt, enslaved, or hung. As for human +brotherhood, he does not admit brotherhood with +"scoundrels." Particularly disgusting to him is it +to hear this philanthropy to bad men called Christianity. +Christianity, he thinks, does not tell us to +love the bad, but to hate them as God hates them. +According, probably, to his private expurgated +version of the Gospel, "that ye may be the children +of your Father in heaven, whose sun rises +only on the good, and whose rain falls only on the +just."</p> + +<p>"Downing Street" and "New Downing Street" +are fiery tirades against the governing classes in +England. Mr. Carlyle says (according to his inevitable +refrain), that England does not want a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> +reformed Parliament, a body of talkers, but a +reformed Downing Street, a body of workers. He +describes the utter imbecility of the English government, +and calls loudly for some able man to +take its place. Two passages are worth quoting; +the first as to England's aspect in her foreign relations, +which is quite as true for 1864 as for 1854.</p> + +<p>"How it stands with the Foreign Office, again, +one still less knows. Seizures of Sapienza, and the +like sudden appearances of Britain in the character +of Hercules-Harlequin, waving, with big bully-voice, +her sword of sharpness over field-mice, and +in the air making horrid circles (horrid Catherine-wheels +and death-disks of metallic terror from said +huge sword) to see how they will like it. Hercules-Harlequin, +the Attorney Triumphant, the +World's Busybody!"</p> + +<p>Or see the following description of the sort of +rulers who prevail in England, no less than in +<span class="locked">America:—</span></p> + +<p>"If our government is to be a No-Government, +what is the matter who administers it? Fling an +orange-skin into St. James Street, let the man it +hits be your man. He, if you bend him a little to +it, and tie the due official bladders to his ankles, +will do as well as another this sublime problem of +balancing himself upon the vortexes, with the long +loaded pole in his hand, and will, with straddling, +painful gestures, float hither and thither, walking +the waters in that singular manner for a little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span> +while, till he also capsize, and be left floating feet +uppermost,—after which you choose another."</p> + +<p>Concerning which we may say, that if this is the +result of monarchy and aristocracy in England, +we can stick a little longer to our democracy in +America. Mr. Carlyle says that the object of all +these methods is to find the ablest man for a ruler. +He thinks our republican method very insufficient +and absurd,—much preferring the English system,—and +then tells us that this is the outcome +of the latter; that you might as well select your +ruler by throwing an orange-skin into the street as +by the method followed in England.</p> + +<p>Despotism, tempered by assassination, seems to +be Carlyle's notion of a good government.</p> + +<p>The pamphlet "Stump-Orator" is simply a bitter +denunciation of all talking, speech-making, +and writing, as the curse of the time, and ends with +the proposition to cut out the tongues of one whole +generation, as an act of mercy to them and a blessing +to the human race.</p> + +<p>Thus this collection of "Latter-Day Pamphlets" +consists of the bitterest cynicism. Carlyle sits in +it, as in a tub, snarling at freedom, yelping at philanthropy, +growling at the English government, +snapping at all men who speak or write, and ending +with one long howl over the universal falsity +and hollowness of mankind in general.</p> + +<p>After which he proceeds to his final apotheosis +of despotism pure and simple, in this "Life of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> +Frederick the Great." Of this it is not necessary +to say more than that Frederick, being an absolute +despot, but a very able one, having plunged Europe +into war in order to steal Silesia, is everywhere +admired, justified, or excused by Carlyle, +who reserves his rebukes and contempt for those +who find fault with all this.</p> + +<p>That, with these opinions, Carlyle should have +taken sides with the slaveholders' conspiracy +against the Union is not surprising. His sympathies +were with them; first, as slaveholders, +secondly, as aristocrats. He hates us because we +are democrats, and he loves them because they are +despots and tyrants. Long before the outbreak of +the rebellion, he had ridiculed emancipation, and +denounced as folly and evil the noblest deed of +England,—the emancipation of her West India +slaves. In scornful, bitter satire, he denounced +England for keeping the fast which God had chosen, +in undoing the heavy burdens, letting the +oppressed go free, and breaking every yoke. He +ridiculed the black man, and described the poor +patient African as "Quashee, steeped to the eyes +in pumpkin." In the hateful service of oppression +he had already done his best to uphold slavery and +discourage freedom. And while he fully believed +in enslaving the laboring population, black or white, +and driving it to work by the cart-whip, he as fully +abhorred republicanism everywhere, and most of +all in the United States. He had exhausted the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> +resources of language in vilifying American institutions. +It was a matter of course, therefore, that +at the outbreak of this civil war all his sympathies +should be with those who whip women and sell +babies.</p> + +<p>How is it that this great change should have +taken place? Men change,—but not often in +this way. The ardent reformer often hardens into +the stiff conservative. The radical in religion is +very likely to join the Catholic Church. If a +Catholic changes his religion, he goes over to +atheism. To swing from one extreme to another, +is a common experience. But it is a new thing to +see calmness in youth, violence in age,—to find +the young man wise and all-sided, the old man +bigoted and narrow.</p> + +<p>We think the explanation to be this.</p> + +<p>Thomas Carlyle from the beginning has not +shown the least appreciation of the essential thing +in Christianity. Brought up in Scotland, inheriting +from Calvinism a sense of truth, a love of +justice, and a reverence for the Jewish Bible, he +has never passed out of Judaism into Christianity. +To him, Oliver Cromwell is the best type of true +religion; inflexible justice the best attribute of +God or man. He is a worshiper of Jehovah, not +of the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ. +He sees in God truth and justice; he does not see +in him love. He is himself a prophet after the +type of Elijah and John the Baptist. He is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> +voice crying in the wilderness; and we may say of +him, therefore, as was said of his prototype, "He +was a burning and a shining light, and ye were +willing, for a season, to rejoice in his light,"—but +not always,—not now.</p> + +<p>Carlyle does not, indeed, claim to be a Jew, or +to reject Christ. On the contrary, he speaks of +him with very sincere respect. He seems, however, +to know nothing of him but what he has read +in Goethe about the "worship of sorrow." The +Gospel appears to him to be, essentially, a worship +of sorrow. That Christ "came to save sinners,"—of +that Carlyle has not the faintest idea. To +him the notion of "saving sinners" is only "rose-water +philanthropy." He does not wish them +saved, he wishes them damned,—swept into hell +as soon as convenient.</p> + +<p>But, as everything which is real has two sides, +that of <em>truth</em> and that of <em>love</em>,—it usually happens +that he who only sees <em>one</em> side at last ceases even +to see that. All goodness, to Carlyle, is truth,—in +man it is sincerity, or love of reality, sight of +the actual facts,—in God it is justice, divine +adherence to law, infinite guidance of the world +and of every human soul according to a strict and +inevitable rule of righteousness. At first this +seems to be a providence,—and Carlyle has +everywhere, in the earlier epoch, shown full confidence +in Providence. But believe only in justice +and truth,—omit the doctrine of forgiveness,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> +redemption, salvation,—and faith in Providence +becomes sooner or later a despairing fatalism. +The dark problem of evil remains insoluble without +the doctrine of redemption.</p> + +<p>So it was that Carlyle, seeing at first the chief +duty of man to be the worship of reality, the love +of truth, next made that virtue to consist in +sincerity, or being in earnest. Truth was being +true to one's self. In this lay the essence of heroism. +So that Burns, being sincere and earnest, +was a hero,—Odin was a hero,—Mohammed +was a hero,—Cromwell was a hero,—Mirabeau +and Danton were heroes,—and Frederick the +Great was a hero. That which was first the love +of truth, and caused him to reverence the calm +intellectual force of Schiller and Goethe, soon +became earnestness and sincerity, and then became +power. For the proof of earnestness is power. +So from power, by eliminating all love, all tenderness, +as being only rose-water philanthropy, he at +last became a worshiper of mere will, of force in +its grossest form. So he illustrates those lines of +Shakespeare in which this process is so well described. +In "Troilus and Cressida" Ulysses is +insisting on the importance of keeping everything +in its place, and giving to the best things and +persons their due priority. Otherwise, mere force +will govern all things.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Strength would be lord of imbecility,"—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">as Carlyle indeed openly declares that it ought to +<span class="locked">be,—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"And the rude son should strike his father dead,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">which Carlyle does not quite approve of in the +case of Dr. Francia. But why not, if he maintains +that strength is the measure of justice?</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Force should be right; or, rather, right and wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Between whose endless jar justice resides)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should lose their names and so should justice, too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em>Then everything includes itself in power,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em>Power into will, will into appetite;</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em>And appetite, an universal wolf,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em>So doubly seconded with will and power,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em>Must make perforce an universal prey,</em><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><em>And, last, eat up himself.</em>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Just so, in the progress of Carlyle's literary +career, first, force became right,—then, everything +included itself in power,—next, power was +lost in will, and will in mere caprice or appetite. +From his admiration for Goethe, as the type of +intellectual power, he passed to the praise of +Cromwell as the exponent of will, and then to that +of Frederick, whose appetite for plunder and territory +was seconded by an iron will and the highest +power of intellect; but whose ambition devoured +himself, his country, and its prosperity, in the mad +pursuit of victory and conquest.</p> + +<p>The explanation, therefore, of our author's lapse, +is simply this, that he worshiped truth divorced +from love, and so ceased to worship truth, and fell +into the idolatry of mere will. Truth without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> +love is not truth, but hard, willful opinion, just as +love without truth is not love, but weak good-nature +and soft concession.</p> + +<p>Carlyle has no idea of that sublime feature of +Christianity, which shows to us God caring more +for the one sinner who repents than the ninety +and nine just persons which need no repentance. +To him one just person deserves more care than +ninety-nine sinners. Yet it is strange that he did +not learn from his master, Goethe, this essential +trait of the Gospel. For Goethe, in a work translated +by Carlyle himself, distinguishes between +the three religions thus. The ethnic or Gentile +religions, he says, reverence <em>what is above us</em>,—the +religion of the philosopher reverences <em>what is +on our own level</em>,—but Christianity reverences +<em>what is beneath us</em>. "This is the last step," says +Goethe, "which mankind were destined to attain,—to +recognize humility and poverty, mockery +and despite, disgrace and wretchedness, as divine,—nay, +<em>even on sin and crime to look not as hindrances, +but to honor and love them as furtherances +of what is holy</em>."</p> + +<p>On sin and crime, as we have seen, Carlyle +looks with no such tenderness. But if he does not +care for the words of Christ, teaching us that we +must forgive if we hope to be forgiven, if he does +not care for the words of his master, Goethe, he +might at least remember his own exposition of this +doctrine in an early work, where he shows that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> +poor left to perish by disease infect a whole community, +and declares that the safety of all is involved +in the safety of the humblest.</p> + +<p>In 1840, when he wrote "Chartism," Carlyle +seems to have known better than he did in 1855, +when he wrote these "Latter-Day Pamphlets." +<em>Then</em> he <span class="locked">said:—</span></p> + +<p>"To believe practically that the poor and luckless +are here only as a nuisance to be abraded and +abated, and in some permissible manner made +away, and swept out of sight, is not an amiable +faith."</p> + +<p>Of Ireland, too, he <span class="locked">said:—</span></p> + +<p>"We English pay, even now, the bitter smart +of long centuries of injustice to Ireland." "It is +the feeling of <em>injustice</em> that is insupportable to +all men. The brutalest black African feels it, +and cannot bear that he should be used unjustly. +No man can bear it, or ought to bear it."</p> + +<p>This seems like the "rose-water philanthropy" +which he subsequently so much disliked. In this +book also he speaks of a "seven years' Silesian +robber-war,"—we trust not intending to call his +beloved Frederick a robber! And again he proposes, +as one of the best things to be done +in England, to have all the people taught by +government to read and write,—the same thing +which this American democracy, in which he could +see not one good thing, has so long been doing. +That was the plan by which England was to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> +saved,—a plan first suggested in England in +1840,—adopted and acted on in America for two +hundred years.</p> + +<p>But just as love separated from truth becomes +cruelty, so <em>truth</em> by itself—truth <em>not</em> tempered +and fulfilled by love—runs sooner or later into +falsehood. <em>Truth</em>, after a while, becomes dogmatism, +overbearing assertion, willful refusal to see +and hear other than one's own belief; that is to +say, it becomes falsehood. Such has been the case +with our author. On all the subjects to which +he has committed himself he closes his eyes, and +refuses to see the other side. Like his own symbol, +the mighty Bull, he makes his charge <em>with his +eyes shut</em>.</p> + +<p>Determined, for example, to rehabilitate such +men as Mirabeau, Cromwell, Frederick, and Frederick's +father, he does thorough work, and defends +or excuses all their enormities, palliating whenever +he cannot justify.</p> + +<p>What can we call this which he <span class="locked">says<a name="FNanchor_27" id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">27</a></span> concerning +the execution of Lieutenant Katte, by order of old +King Friedrich Wilhelm? Tired of the tyranny +of his father, tired of being kicked and caned, the +young prince tried to escape. He was caught and +held as a deserter from the army, and his father +tried to run him through the body. Lieutenant +Katte, who had aided him in getting away, having +been kicked and caned, was sent to a court-martial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> +to be tried. The court-martial found him guilty +not of deserting, but of intending to desert, and +sentenced him to two years' imprisonment. Whereupon +the king went into a rage, declared that Katte +had committed high treason, and ordered him to be +executed. Whereupon Carlyle thus <span class="locked">writes:—</span></p> + +<p>"'Never was such a transaction before or since +in modern history,' cries the angry reader; 'cruel, +like the grinding of human hearts under millstones; +like——' Or, indeed, like the doings of the gods, +which are cruel, but not that alone."</p> + +<p>In other words, Carlyle cannot make up his mind +frankly to condemn this atrocious murder, and call +it by its right name. He must needs try to sophisticate +us by talking about "the doings of the +gods." Because Divine Providence takes men out +of the world in various ways, it is therefore allowable +to a king, provided he be a hero grim enough +and "earnest" enough, to kick men, cane them, +and run them through the body when he pleases; +and, after having sent a man to be tried by court-martial, +if the court acquits him, to order him to +be executed by his own despotic will. A truth-telling +Carlyle ought to have said, "I admit this +is murder; but I like the old fellow, and so I will +call it right." A Carlyle grown sophistical mumbles +something about its being like "the doings of +the gods," and leaves off with that small attempt +at humbug. Be brave, my men, and defend my +Lord Jeffreys next for bullying juries into hanging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> +prisoners. Was not Jeffreys "grim" too? In +fact, are not most murderers "grim"?</p> + +<p>We have had occasion formerly, in this journal, +to examine the writings of another very positive +and clear-headed thinker,—Mr. Henry James. +Mr. James is, in his philosophy, the very antithesis +of Carlyle. With equal fervor of thought, with a +like vehemence of style, with a somewhat similar +contempt for his opponents, Mr. James takes exactly +the opposite view of religion and duty. As +Carlyle preaches the law, and the law alone, maintaining +justice as the sole Divine attribute, so Mr. +James preaches the Gospel only, denying totally +that to the Divine Mind any distinction exists between +saint and sinner, unless that the sinner is +somewhat more of a favorite than the saint. We +did not, do not, agree with Mr. James in his anti-nomianism; +as between him and Carlyle, we think +his doctrine far the truer and nobler. He stands +on a higher plane, and sees much the farther. A +course of reading in Mr. James's books might, we +think, help our English cynic not a little.</p> + +<p>God is the perfect harmony of justice and love. +His justice is warmed through and through with +love, his love is sanctified and made strong by justice. +And so, in Christ, perfect justice was fulfilled +in perfect love. But in him first was fully +revealed, in this world, the Divine fatherly tenderness +to the lost, to the sinner, to those lowest down +and farthest away. In him was taught that our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> +own redemption from evil does not lie in despising +and hating men worse than ourselves, but in saving +them. The hard Pharisaic justice of Carlyle +may call this "rose-water philanthropy," but till +he accepts it from his heart, and repents of his contempt +for his fallen fellowmen, till he learns to +love "scoundrels," there is no hope for him. He +lived once in the heaven of reverence, faith, and +love; he has gone from it into the hell of Pharisaic +scorn and contempt. Till he comes back out of +that, there is no hope for him.</p> + +<p>But such a noble nature cannot be thus lost. +He will one day, let us trust, worship the divine +love which he now abhors. Cromwell asked, on +his death-bed, "if those once in a state of grace +could fall," and, being assured not, said, "I am +safe then, for I am sure I was once in a state of +grace." There is a truth in this doctrine of the +perseverance of saints. Some truths once fully +seen, even though afterward rejected by the mind +and will, stick like a barbed arrow in the conscience, +tormenting the soul till they are again +accepted and obeyed. Such a truth Carlyle once +saw, in the great doctrine of reverence for the +fallen and the sinful. He will see it again, if not +in this world, then in some other world.</p> + +<p>The first Carlyle was an enthusiast, the last +Carlyle is a cynic. From enthusiasm to cynicism, +from the spirit of reverence to the spirit of contempt, +the way seems long, but the condition of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> +arriving is simple. Discard <span class="smcap">Love</span>, and the whole +road is passed over. Divorce love from truth, and +truth ceases to be open and receptive,—ceases to +be a positive function, turns into acrid criticism, +bitter disdain, cruel and hollow laughter, empty of +all inward peace. Such is the road which Carlyle +has passed over, from his earnest, hopeful youth to +his bitter old age.</p> + +<p>Carlyle fulfilled for many, during these years, +the noble work of a mediator. By reverence and +love he saw what was divine in nature, in man, +and in life. By the profound sincerity of his +heart, his worship of reality, his hatred of falsehood, +he escaped from the commonplaces of literature +to a better land of insight and knowledge. +So he was enabled to lead many others out of their +entanglements, into his own luminous insight. It +was a great and blessed work. Would that it had +been sufficient for him!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="BUCKLE AND HIS THEORY OF AVERAGES"><a id="BUCKLE">BUCKLE AND HIS THEORY OF AVERAGES</a><a name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">28</a></h2> + +<p>We welcomed kindly the first installment of Mr. +Buckle's <span class="locked">work,<a name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">29</a></span> giving a cursory account of it, and +hinting, rather than urging, the objections which +readily suggested themselves against theories concerning +Man, History, Civilization, and Human +Progress. But now it seems a proper time to discuss +with a little more deliberation the themes +opened before us by this intrepid writer,—this +latest champion of that theory of the mind which +in the last century was called Materialism and +Necessity, and which in the present has been re-baptized +as Positivism.</p> + +<p>The doctrines of which Mr. Buckle is the ardent +advocate seem to us, the more thoroughly we consider +them, to be essentially theoretical, superficial, +and narrow. They are destitute of any broad +basis of reality. In their application by Mr. +Buckle, they fail to solve the historic problems +upon which he tries their power. With a show of +science, they are unscientific, being a mere collection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> +of unverified hypotheses. And if Mr. Buckle +should succeed in introducing his principles and +methods into the study of history, it would be +equivalent to putting backward for about a century +this whole department of thought.</p> + +<p>Yet, while we state this as our opinion, and one +which we shall presently endeavor to substantiate +by ample proof, we do not deny to Mr. Buckle's +volumes the interest arising from vigorous and +independent thinking, faithful study of details, +and a strong, believing purpose. They are interesting +and valuable contributions to our literature. +But this is not on account of their purpose, but +in spite of it; notwithstanding their doctrines, not +because of them. The interest of these books, as +of all good history, derives itself from their picturesque +reproduction of life. Whatever of value +belongs to Mr. Buckle's work is the same as that +of the writings of Macaulay, Motley, and Carlyle. +Whoever has the power of plunging like a diver +into the spirit of another period, sympathizing with +its tone, imbuing himself with its instincts, sharing +its loves and hates, its faith and its skepticism, will +write its history so as to interest us. For whoever +will really show to us the breathing essence of any +age, any state of society, or any course of human +events, cannot fail of exciting that element of the +soul which causes man everywhere to rejoice in +meeting with man. He who will write the history +of Arabians, Kelts, or Chinese, of the Middle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> +Ages, the Norman Sea-kings, or the Roman Plebs, +so that we can see ourselves beneath these diverse +surroundings of race, country, and period, and see +that these also are really <span class="smcap smaller">MEN</span>,—this writer instantly +awakens our interest, whether he call himself +poet, novelist, or historian. In all cases, the +secret of success is to write so as to enable the +reader to identify himself with the characters of +another age. Great authors enable us to look +at actions, not from without, but from within. +When we read the historic plays of Shakespeare, +or the historic novels of Scott, we are charmed by +finding that kings and queens are, after all, our +poor human fellow-creatures, sharing all our old, +familiar struggles, pains, and joys. When we read +that great historic masterpiece, the "French Revolution" +of Carlyle, the magic touch of the artist +introduces us into the heart of every character in +the motley, shifting scene. We are the poor king +escaping to Varennes under the dewy night and +solemn stars. We are tumultuous Mirabeau, with +his demonic but generous soul. We are devoted +Charlotte Corday; we are the Gironde; we the +poor prisoners of Terror, waiting in our prison for +the slow morning to bring the inevitable doom. +This is the one indispensable faculty for the historian; +and this faculty Mr. Buckle so far possesses +as to make his page a living one. It is true +that his sympathy is intellectual rather than imaginative. +It is not of the high order of Shakespeare,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> +nor even of that of Carlyle. But, so far as it goes, +it is a true faculty, and makes a true historian.</p> + +<p>Yet we cannot but notice how the effectual +working of this historic organ is interfered with +by the dogmatic purpose of Mr. Buckle; and, on +the other hand, how his theoretic aim is disturbed +by the interest of his narrative. His history is +always meant to be an argument. His narrations +of events are never for their own sake, but always +to prove some thesis. There is, therefore, no consecutive +narrative, no progress of events, no sustained +interest. These volumes are episodes, put +together we cannot well say how, or why. In the +seventh chapter of the first volume we have a +graphic description of the Court life in England in +the days of Charles II., James II., William, and +the Georges, in connection with the condition of +the Church and clergy. From this we are taken, +in the next chapter, to France, and to similar relations +between Henry IV., Louis XIII., Richelieu, +and the French Catholics and Protestants. We +then are brought back to England, to consider the +protective system there; and once more we return +to France, to investigate its operation in that +country. Afterward we have an essay on "The +State of Historical Literature in France from the +End of the Sixteenth to the End of the Eighteenth +Century," followed by another essay on the "Proximate +Causes of the French Revolution." Many +very well finished biographic portraits are given<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> +us in these chapters. There are excellent sketches +of Burke, Voltaire, Richelieu, Bossuet, Montesquieu, +Rousseau, Bichat, in the first volume; and +of Adam Smith, Reid, Black, Leslie, Hutton, +Cullen, Hunter, in the second. These numerous +biographic sketches, which are often accompanied +with good literary notices of the writings of these +authors, are very ably written; but it is curious to +remember, while reading them, that Mr. Buckle +thinks that, as history advances, it has less and +less to do with biography.</p> + +<p>There is an incurable defect in the method of +this work. On the one hand, the dogmatic purpose +is constantly breaking into the interest of the +narration; on the other, the interest of the narration +is continually enticing the writer from his +argument into endless episodes and details of biography. +The argument is deprived of its force by +the story; the story is interrupted continually on +account of the argument. Mr. Buckle has mistaken +the philosophy of history for history itself. +A history of civilization is not a piece of metaphysical +argument, but a consecutive account of the +social progress either of an age or of a nation. +This irreconcilable conflict of purpose, while it +leaves to the parts of the work their value, destroys +its worth as a whole.</p> + +<p>Mr. Buckle might probably inquire whether we +would eliminate wholly from history all philosophic +aim, all teleologic purpose. He objects, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> +very properly, to degrading history into mere annals, +without any instructive purpose. We agree +with him. We do not admire the style of history +which feels neither passion nor sympathy, which +narrates crimes without indignation, and which +has no aim in its narration except to entertain a +passing hour. But it is one thing deliberately to +announce a thesis and bring detached passages of +history to prove it, and another to write a history +which, by its incidents, spirit, and characters shall +convey impulse and instruction. The historian +may dwell upon the events which illustrate his +convictions, and may develop the argument during +the progress of his moving panorama; but the history +itself, as it moves, should impress the lesson. +The history of Mr. Motley, for example, illustrates +and impresses the evils of bigotry, superstition, +and persecution on the life of nations, quite +as powerfully as does that of Mr. Buckle; but +Mr. Motley never suspends his narrative in order +to prove to us logically that persecution is an evil.</p> + +<p>Mr. Buckle, in his style of writing, belongs to a +modern class of authors whom we may call the +bullying school. It is true that he is far less extravagant +than some of them, and indeed is not +deeply tinged with their peculiar manner. The +first great master of this class of writers is Thomas +Carlyle; but their peculiarity has been carried to +its greatest extent by Ruskin. Its characteristic +feature is treating with supreme contempt, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> +though they were hopeless imbeciles, all who venture +to question the <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">dicta</i> of the writer. This +superb arrogance makes these writers rather popular +with the English, who, as a nation, like equally +well to bully and to be bullied.</p> + +<p>Buckle professes to have at last found the only +true key to history, and to have discovered some of +its important laws, especially those which regard +the progress of civilization.</p> + +<p>I. <i>His View of Freedom.</i>—Mr. Buckle's fundamental +position is, that the actions of men are +governed by fixed laws, and that, when these laws +are discovered, history will become a science, like +geometry, geology, or astronomy. The chief obstacle +hitherto to its becoming a science has been +the belief that the actions of men were determined, +not by fixed laws, but by free will (which he considers +equivalent to chance), or by supernatural +interference or providence (which he regards as +equivalent to fate). "We shall thus be led," he +says (Vol. I. p. 6, Am. ed.), "to one vast question, +which, indeed, lies at the root of the whole subject, +and is simply this: Are the actions of men, and +therefore of societies, governed by fixed laws, or +are they the result either of chance or of supernatural +interference?" Identifying freedom with +chance, Mr. Buckle denies that there is such a +thing, and maintains that every human action is +determined by some antecedent, inward or outward, +and that not one is determined by the free<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> +choice of the man himself. His principal argument +against free will is the law of averages, which +we will therefore proceed to consider in its bearing +on this point.</p> + +<p>Statistics, carefully collected during many years +and within different countries, show a regularity +of return in certain vices and crimes, which indicates +the presence of law. Thus, about the same +number of murders are committed every year in certain +countries and large cities, and even the instruments +by which they are committed are employed +in the same proportion. Suicide also follows some +regular law. "In a given state of society, a certain +number of persons must put an end to their +own life." In London, about two hundred and +forty persons kill themselves every year,—in +years of panic and disaster a few more, in prosperous +years not quite so many. Other actions of +men are determined in the same way,—not by +personal volition, but by some controlling circumstance. +"It is now known that the number of +marriages in England bears a fixed and definite +relation to the price of corn." "Aberrations of +memory are marked by this general character of +necessary and invariable order." The same average +number of persons forget every year to direct +the letters dropped into the post-offices of London +and Paris. Facts of this kind "force us to the +conclusion," says Buckle, "that the offenses of +men are the result, not so much of the vices of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> +individual offender, as of the state of society into +which he is thrown."</p> + +<p>The argument then is: If man's moral actions +are under law, they are not free, for freedom is +the absence of law. The argument of Mr. Buckle +is conclusive, provided freedom does necessarily +imply the absence of law. But such, we think, is +not the fact.</p> + +<p>The actions of man do not proceed solely from +the impact of external circumstances; for then he +would be no better than a ball struck with a bat. +Nor do they proceed solely from the impulses of +his animal nature; for then he would be only a +superior kind of machine, moved by springs and +wheels. But in addition to external and internal +impulse there is also in man the power of personal +effort, activity, will,—to which we give the name +of Free Choice, or Freedom. This modifies and +determines a part of his actions,—while a second +part come from the influence of circumstance, and +a third from organic instincts and habitual tendencies.</p> + +<p>Now, it is quite certain that no man has freedom +of will enough to cause <em>his whole</em> nexus of activity +to proceed from it. For if a man could cause <em>all</em> +his actions to proceed by a mere choice or effort, +he could turn himself at will into another man. +In other words, there could be no such thing as +permanent moral character. No one could be described; +for while we were describing him, he might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> +choose to be different, and so would become somebody +else. It is evident, therefore, that some part +of every man's life must lie outside of the domain +of freedom.</p> + +<p>In what, then, does the essence of freedom consist? +If it be not the freedom to do whatever we +choose, what is it? Plainly, if we analyze our own +experience, we shall find that it is simply what its +scholastic name implies, freedom of choice, or <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">liber +arbitrio</i>. It is not, in the last analysis, freedom +to act, but it is freedom to choose.</p> + +<p>But freedom to choose what? Can we choose +anything? Certainly not. Our freedom of choice +is limited by our knowledge. We cannot choose +that which we do not know. We must choose something +within the range of our experience. And our +freedom of choice consists in the alternative of making +this choice or omitting to make it,—exerting +ourselves or not exerting ourselves. Consciousness +testifies universally to this extent of freedom. We +know by our consciousness that we can exert ourselves +or not exert ourselves at any moment,—exert +ourselves to act or not exert ourselves to act, +to speak or not to speak. This power of making +or not making an effort is freedom in its simplest +and lowest form.</p> + +<p>In this lowest form, it is apparent that human +freedom is inadequate to give any permanent character +to human actions. They will be directed by +the laws of organization and circumstance. Freedom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> +in this sense may be compared to the power +which a man has of rowing a boat in the midst of +a fog. He may exert himself to row, he may row +at any moment forward or backward, to the right +or to the left. He has this freedom,—but it does +not enable him to go in any special direction. Not +being able to direct his boat to any fixed aim, it is +certain that it will be drifted by the currents or +blown by the winds. Freedom in this form is only +willfulness, because devoid of an inward law.</p> + +<p>But let the will direct itself by a fixed law, and +it at once becomes true freedom, and begins to impress +itself upon actions, modifying the results of +organization and circumstance. Not even in this +case can it destroy those results; it only modifies +them. It enters as a third factor with those other +two to produce the product. The total character +of a man's actions will be represented by a formula, +thus: John's Organization <sub class="large">×</sub> John's Circumstances +<sub class="large">×</sub> John's Freedom = John's Character.</p> + +<p>Apply this to the state of society where the law +of averages has been discovered. In such a society +there are always to be found three classes of persons. +In the first class, freedom is either dormant +or is mere willfulness. The law of mind is subject +therefore in these to the law of the members. +The will is an enslaved will, and its influence on +action is a nullity, not needing to be taken into +the account. From this class come the largest proportion +of the crimes and vices, regular in number<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> +because resulting from constant conditions of society. +Of these persons we can predict with certainty +that, under certain strong temptations to +evil, they will inevitably yield.</p> + +<p>But in another class of persons the will has +learned to direct itself by a moral law toward a +fixed aim. The man in the boat is now steering +by a compass, and ceases to be the sport of current +and gale. The will reacts upon organization, and +directs circumstance. The man has learned how +to master his own nature, and how to arrange external +conditions. We can predict with certainty +that under no possible influences will this class +yield to some forms of evil.</p> + +<p>There is also in each community a third class, +who are struggling, but not emancipated. They +are partly free, but not wholly so. From this class +come the slight variations of the average, now a +little better, now a little worse.</p> + +<p>Applying this view of the freedom of the will to +history, we see that the problem is far more complicated +than Mr. Buckle admits. Man's freedom, +with him, is an element not to be taken into consideration, +because it does not exist. But the truth +is, that human freedom is not only a factor, but a +variable factor, the value of which changes with +every variety of human condition. In the savage +condition it obeys organization and circumstances, +and has little effect on social condition. But as +civilization advances, the power of freedom to react<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> +on organization and circumstance increases, varying +however again, according to the force and inspiration +of the ideas by which it is guided. And +of all these ideas, precisely those which Mr. Buckle +underrates, namely, moral and religious ideas, are +those which most completely emancipate the will +from circumstances, and vitalize it with an all-conquering +force.</p> + +<p>To see this, take two extreme cases,—that of an +African Hottentot, and that of Joan of Arc. Free +will in the African is powerless; he remains the +helpless child of his situation. But the Maid of +Arc, though utterly destitute of Mr. Buckle's "Intellectual +Truths" (being unable to read or write, +and having received no instruction save religious +ideas), and wanting in the "Skepticism" which he +thinks so essential to all historic progress, yet develops +a power of will which reacts upon circumstances +so as to turn into another channel the current +of French history. All bonds of situation +and circumstance are swept asunder by the power +of a will set free by mighty religious convictions. +The element of freedom, therefore, is one not to be +neglected by an historian, except to his own loss.</p> + +<p>The law of averages applies only to undeveloped +men, or to the undeveloped sides of human nature, +where the element of freedom has not come in +play. When the human race shall have made +such progress that it shall contain a city inhabited +by a million persons all equal to the Apostle Paul<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> +and the Apostle John in spiritual development, it +will not be found that a certain regular number +kill their wives every year, or that from two hundred +and thirteen to two hundred and forty annually +commit suicide. Nor will this escape from +the averages be owing to an increased acquaintance +with physical laws so much as to a higher moral +development. We shall return to this point, however, +when we examine more fully Buckle's doctrine +in regard to the small influence of religion +on civilization.</p> + +<p>II. <i>Mr. Buckle's View of Organization.</i>—Mr. +Buckle sets aside entirely the whole great fact of +organization, upon which the science of ethnology +is based. Perhaps the narrowness of his mind +shows more conspicuously in this than elsewhere. +He attributes no influence to race in civilization. +While so many eminent writers at the present day +say, with Mr. Knox, that "Race is everything," +Mr. Buckle quietly rejoins that Race is nothing. +"Original distinctions of race," he says, "are altogether +hypothetical." "We have no decisive +ground for saying that the moral and intellectual +faculties in man are likely to be greater in an infant +born in the most civilized part of Europe, +than in one born in the wildest region of a barbarous +country." (Vol. I. p. 127, Am. ed.) "We +often hear of hereditary talents, hereditary vices, +and hereditary virtues; but whoever will critically +examine the evidence will find that we have no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span> +proof of their existence." He doubts the existence +of hereditary insanity, or a hereditary tendency to +suicide, or even to disease. (Vol. I. p. 128, note.) +He does not believe in any progress of natural +capacity in man, but only of opportunity, "that is, +an improvement in the circumstances under which +that capacity after birth comes into play." "Here +then is the gist of the whole matter. The progress +is one, not of internal power, but of external advantage." +He goes on to say, in so many words, +that the only difference between a barbarian child +and a civilized child is in the pressure of surrounding +circumstances. In support of these opinions +he quotes Locke and Turgot.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to understand how an intelligent +and well-informed man, an immense reader and +active thinker, can have lived in the midst of the +nineteenth century and retain these views. For +students at every extreme of thought have equally +recognized the force of organization, the constancy +of race, the permanent varieties existing in the human +family, the steady ruling of the laws of descent. +If there is any one part of the science of anthropology +in which the nineteenth century has reversed +the judgment of the eighteenth,—and that equally +among men of science, poets, materialists, idealists, +anatomists, philologists,—it is just here. To find +so intelligent a man reproducing the last century +in the midst of the present is a little extraordinary.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span> +Perhaps there could not be found four great +thinkers more different in their tendencies of +thought and range of study than Goethe, Spurzheim, +Dr. Prichard, and Max Müller; yet these +four, each by his own method of observation, have +shown with conclusive force the law of variety and +of permanence in organization. Goethe asserts +that every individual man carries from his birth to +his grave an unalterable speciality of being,—that +he is, down to the smallest fibre of his character, +one and the same man; and that the whole +mighty power of circumstance, modifying everything, +cannot abolish anything,—that organization +and circumstance hold on together with an +equally permanent influence in every human life. +Gall and Spurzheim teach that every fibre of the +brain has its original quality and force, and that +such qualities and forces are transmitted by obscure +but certain laws of descent. Prichard, with +immense learning, describes race after race, giving +the types of each human family in its physiology. +And, finally, the great science of comparative philology, +worked out by such thinkers and students as +Bopp, Latham, Humboldt, Bunsen, Max Müller, +and a host of others, has proved the permanence +of human varieties by ample glossological evidence. +Thus the modern science of ethnology has arisen, +on the basis of physiology, philology, and ethology, +and is perhaps the chief discovery of the age. +Yet Mr. Buckle quietly ignores the whole of it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> +and continues, with Locke, to regard every human +mind as a piece of white paper, to be written on +by external events,—a piece of soft putty, to be +moulded by circumstances.</p> + +<p>The facts on which the science of ethnology +rests are so numerous and so striking, that the +only difficulty in selecting an illustration is from +the quantity and richness of material. But we +may take two instances,—that of the Teutons and +Kelts, to show the permanence of differences under +the same circumstances, and that of the Jews, the +Arabs, and the Gypsies, to show the continuity of +identity under different circumstances. For if it +can be made evident that different races of men +preserve different characters, though living for +long periods under similar circumstances, and that +the same race preserves the same character, though +living for long periods under different circumstances, +the proof is conclusive that character is +<em>not</em> derived from circumstances only. We shall +not indeed go to the extreme of such ethnologists +as Knox, Nott, or Gliddon, and say that "Race is +everything, and circumstances nothing," but we +shall see that Mr. Buckle is mistaken in saying +that "Circumstances are everything, and race nothing."</p> + +<p>The differences of character between the German +and Keltic varieties of the human race are +marked, but not extreme. They both belong to +the same great Indo-European or Aryan family.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> +They both originated in Asia, and the German +emigration seems to have followed immediately +after that of the Kelts. Yet when described by +Cæsar, Tacitus, and Strabo, they differed from +each other exactly as they differ now. They have +lived for some two thousand years in the same +climate, under similar political and social institutions, +and yet they have preserved their original +diversity.</p> + +<p>According to the description of Cæsar<a name="FNanchor_30" id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">30</a> and +<span class="locked">Tacitus<a name="FNanchor_31" id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">31</a></span> the German tribes differed essentially +from the Gauls or Kelts in the following particulars. +The Germans loved freedom, and were all +free. The Kelts did not care for freedom. The +meanest German was free. But all the inferior +people among the Kelts were virtually slaves. +The Germans had no priests, and did not care for +sacrifices. The Kelts had a powerful priesthood +and imposing religious rites. The Germans were +remarkable for their blue eyes, light hair, and +large limbs. The Kelts were dark-complexioned. +The Gauls were more quick, but less persevering, +than the Germans. Ready to attack, they were +soon discouraged. Tacitus, describing the Germans, +says: "They are a pure, unmixed, and +independent race; there is a family likeness +through the nation, the same form and features, +stern blue eyes, ruddy hair; a strong sense of +honor; reverence for women; religious, but without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> +a ritual; superstitiously believing in supernatural +signs and portents, but not in a priesthood; +not living in cities, but in scattered homes; respecting +marriage; the children brought up in the +dirt, among the cattle; hospitable, frank, and +generous; fond of drinking beer, and eating preparations +of milk."</p> + +<p>The German and Keltic races, thus distinguished +in the days of Cæsar, are equally distinct to-day. +Catholicism, the religion of a priesthood, a ritual, +and authority, prevails among the Kelts; Protestantism +among the Germans. Ireland, being mainly +Keltic, is Catholic, though a part of a Protestant +nation. France, being mainly Keltic, is also +Catholic, in spite of all its illumination, its science, +and its knowledge of "intellectual laws." +But as France contains a large infusion of German +(Frankish) blood, it is the most Protestant of +Catholic nations; while Scotland, containing the +largest infusion of Keltic blood, is the most priest-ridden +of Protestant nations. This last fact, which +Mr. Buckle asserts, and spends half a volume in +trying to account for, is explained at once by +ethnology. Wherever the Germans go to-day, +they remain the same people they were in the days +of Tacitus; they carry the same blue eyes and +light hair, the same love of freedom and hatred +of slavery, the same tendencies to individualism in +thought and life, the same tendency to superstitious +belief in supernatural events, even when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> +without belief in any religion or church; and even +the same love for beer, and "lac concretum," now +called "schmeercase" in our Western settlements. +The Kelt, also, everywhere continues the same. +He loves equality more than freedom. He is a +democrat, but not an abolitionist. Very social, +clannish, with more wit than logic, very sensitive +to praise, brave, but not determined, needing a +leader, he carries the spirit of the Catholic Church +into Protestantism, and the spirit of despotism +into free institutions. And that physical, no less +than mental qualities, continue under all climates +and institutions is illustrated by the blue eyes and +light hair which the traveller meets among the +Genoese and Florentines, reminding him of their +Lombard ancestors; while their superior tendencies +to freedom in church and state suggest the +same origin.</p> + +<p>Nineteen hundred years have passed since Julius +Cæsar pointed out these diversities of character +then existing between the Germans and Kelts. +Since then they have passed from barbarism to +civilization. Instead of living in forests, as hunters +and herdsmen, they have built cities, engaged +in commerce, manufactures, and agriculture. They +have been converted to Christianity, have conquered +the Roman empire, engaged in crusades, +fought in a hundred different wars, developed +literatures, arts, and sciences, changed and changed +again their forms of government, have been organized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> +by Feudalism, by Despotism, by Democracy, +have gone through the Protestant reformation, +have emigrated to all countries and climates; +and yet, at the end of this long period, the German +everywhere remains a German, and the Kelt +a Kelt. The descriptions of Tacitus and Cæsar +still describe them accurately. And yet Mr. +Buckle undertakes to write a history of civilization +without taking the element of race into account.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, however, the power of this element of +race is illustrated still more strikingly in the case +of the wandering and dispersed families, who, +having ceased to be a nation, continue in their +dispersions to manifest the permanent type of their +original and ineffaceable organization. Wherever +the Jew goes, he remains a Jew. In all +climates, under all governments, speaking all languages, +his physical and mental features continue +the same. This amazing fact has been held by +many theologians to be a standing miracle of +Divine Providence. But Providence works by +law, and through second causes, and uses in this +instance the laws of a specially stubborn organization +and the force of a tenacious and persistent +blood to accomplish its ends. The same kind of +blood in the kindred Semitic family of Arabs produces +a like result, though to a less striking degree. +The Bedouins wander for thousands of miles away +from their peninsula, but always continue Arabs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> +in appearance and character. The light, sinewy +body and brilliant dark eye, the abstemious habit +and roaming tendency, mark the Arab in Hindostan +or Barbary. It is a thousand years since +these nomad tribes left their native home, but +they continue the same people on the Persian Gulf +or amid the deserts of Sahara.</p> + +<p>The case of the Gypsies, however, may be still +more striking, because these seem, in their wanderings +over the earth, to have gradually divested +themselves of every other common attribute except +that of race. Unlike the Jews and Arabs, +they not only adopt the language, but also the +religion, of the country where they happen to be. +Yet they always remain unfused and unassimilated.</p> + +<p>The Gypsies first appeared in Europe in 1417, +in Moldavia, and thence spread into Transylvania +and <span class="locked">Hungary.<a name="FNanchor_32" id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">32</a></span> They afterward passed into all +the countries of Europe, where their number, at +the present time, is supposed to reach 700,000 or +800,000. Everywhere they adopt the common +form of worship, but are without any real faith. +Partially civilized in some countries, they always +retain their own language beside that of the people +among whom they live. This language, being evidently +derived from the Sanskrit, settles the question +of their origin. It is common to all their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> +branches through the world; as are also the sweet +voice of their maidens, and their habits of horse-dealing, +fortune-telling, and petty larceny. Without +the bond of religion, history, government, +literature, or mutual knowledge and intercourse, +they still remain one and the same people in all +their dispersions. What gives this unity and permanence, +if not race? Yet race, to Mr. Buckle, +means nothing.</p> + +<p>III. <i>Mr. Buckle's Theory concerning Skepticism.</i>—One +of the laws of history which Mr. +Buckle considers himself to have established, if +not discovered, is that a spirit of skepticism precedes +necessarily the progress of knowledge, and +therefore of civilization. By skepticism he means +a doubt of the truth of received opinions. He +asserts that "a spirit of doubt" is the necessary +antecedent to "the love of inquiry." (Vol. I. p. +242, Am. ed.) "Doubt must intervene before +investigation can begin. Here, then, we have the +act of doubting as the originator, or at all events +the necessary antecedent, of all progress."</p> + +<p>If this were so, progress would be impossible. +For the great groundwork of knowledge for each +generation must be laid in the minds of children; +and children learn, not by doubting, but by believing. +Children are actuated at the same time +by an insatiable curiosity and an unquestioning +faith. They ask the reason of everything, and +they accept every reason which is given them. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> +they stopped to question and to doubt, they would +learn very little. But by not doubting at all, +while they are made to believe some errors, they +acquire an immense amount of information. Kind +Mother Nature understands the process of learning +and the principle of progress much better than +Mr. Buckle, and fortunately supplies every new +generation of children with an ardent desire for +knowledge, and a disposition to believe everything +they hear.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, however, Mr. Buckle refers to men +rather than children. He may not insist on children's +stopping to question everything they hear +before they believe. But in men perhaps this +spirit is essential to progress. What great skeptics, +then, have been also great discoverers? Which +was the greatest discoverer, Leibnitz or Bayle, +Sir Isaac Newton or Voltaire? A faith amounting +nearly to credulity is almost essential to discovery,—a +faith which foresees what it cannot +prove, which follows suggestions and hints, and so +traces the faintest impressions left by the flying +footsteps of truth. The attitude of the intellect +in all discovery is not that of doubt, but of faith. +The discoverer always appears to critical and skeptical +men as a visionary.</p> + +<p>"To skepticism," says Mr. Buckle, "we owe the +spirit of inquiry, which, during the last two centuries, +has gradually encroached on every possible +subject, and reformed every department of practical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> +and speculative knowledge." But this is +plainly what logicians call a ὕστερον πρότερον {hysteron proteron}, or +what common people call "putting the cart before +the horse." It is not skepticism which produces +the spirit of inquiry, but the spirit of inquiry +which produces skepticism. It was not a doubt +concerning the Mosaic cosmogony which led to the +study of geology; the study of geology led to the +doubt of the cosmogony. Skepticism concerning +the authority of the Church did not lead to the +discovery of the Copernican system; the discovery +of the Copernican system led to doubts concerning +the authority of the Church which denied it. +People do not begin by doubting, but by seeking. +The love of knowledge leads them to inquire, and +inquiry shows to them new truths. The new +truths, being found to be opposed to received opinions, +cause a doubt concerning those opinions to +arise in the mind. Skepticism, therefore, may +easily follow, but does not precede inquiry.</p> + +<p>Skepticism, being a negative principle, is necessarily +unproductive and barren. To have no +strong belief, no fixed opinion, no vital conviction +for or against anything,—this is surely not a state +of intellect favorable to any great creation or discovery. +Goethe, who was certainly no bigot, says, in +a volume of his posthumous works, that skepticism +is only an inverted superstition, and that this skepticism +is one of the chief evils of the present age. +"It is worse," he adds, "than superstition, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> +superstition is the inheritance of energetic, heroic, +progressive natures; skepticism belongs to weak, +contracted, shrinking men, who venture not out of +themselves." Lord Bacon says ("Advancement of +Learning," Book II.) that doubts have their advantages +in learning, of which he mentions two, but +says that "both these commodities do scarcely +countervail an inconvenience which will intrude +itself, if it be not debarred; which is, that when a +doubt is once received, men labor rather how to +keep it a doubt than how to solve it." It will be +seen, therefore, that Lord Bacon gives to skepticism +scarcely more encouragement than is given it +by Goethe.</p> + +<p>Mr. Buckle says (Vol. I. p. 250) that "Skepticism, +which in physics must always be the beginning +of science, in religion must always be the +beginning of toleration." We have seen that in +physics skepticism is rather the end of science than +its beginning, and the same is true of toleration. +Skepticism does not necessarily produce toleration. +The Roman augurs, who laughed in each other's +faces, were quite ready to assist at the spectacle of +Christians thrown to the lions. Skeptics, not having +any inward conviction as a support, rest on +established opinions, and are angry at seeing them +disturbed. A strong belief is sufficient for itself, +but a half-belief wishes to put down all doubts by +force. This is well expressed by Thomas Burnet +(Epistola 2, De Arch. Phil.): "<span xml:lang="la" lang="la">Non potui non in<span class="pagenum" xml:lang="en" lang="en"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> +illam semper propendere opinionem, Neminem +irasci in veritate defendenda, qui eandem plene +possidet, viditque in claro lumine. Evidens enim, +et indubitata ratio, sibi sufficit et acquiescit: aliisque +a scopo oberrantibus, non tam succenset, quam +miseretur. Sed cum argumentorum adversantium +aculeos sentimus, et quodammodo periclitari causam +nostram, tum demum æstuamus, et effervescimus.</span>"</p> + +<p>The least firm believers have often been the +most violent persecutors. Nero persecuted the +Christians; Marcus Antoninus persecuted them; +but neither Nero nor Antoninus had any religious +reason for this persecution. Antoninus, the best +head of his time, was a sufficient skeptic to suit +Mr. Buckle, as regards all points of the established +religion, but his skepticism did not prevent +him from being a persecutor. Unbelieving Popes, +like Alexander VI. and Leo X., have persecuted. +True toleration is not born of unbelief, as Mr. +Buckle supposes, but of a deeper faith. Religious +liberty has not been given to the world by skeptics, +but by such men as Milton, Baxter, Jeremy Taylor, +and Roger Williams.</p> + +<p>So far from general skepticism being the antecedent +condition of intellectual progress and discovery, +it is a sign of approaching intellectual stagnation +and decay. A great religious movement +usually precedes and prepares the way for a great +mental development. Thus the religious activity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> +born of Protestantism showed its results in England +in the age of Elizabeth, and in a general outbreak +of intellectual activity over all Europe. On +the other hand, the skepticism of the eighteenth +century was accompanied by comparative stagnation +of thought throughout Christendom.</p> + +<p>IV. <i>Mr. Buckle's View of the small Influence of +Religion on Civilization.</i>—Mr. Buckle thinks it +is erroneous to suppose that religion is one of the +prime movers of human affairs. (Vol. I. p. 183.) +Religion, according to him, has little to do with +human progress. In this opinion, he differs from +nearly all other great historians and philosophical +thinkers. In modern times, Hegel, Niebuhr, Guizot, +Arnold, and Macaulay, among others, have +discussed the part taken by religious ideas in the development +of man, laying the greatest stress on this +element. But Mr. Buckle denies that religion is +one of the prime movers in human affairs. The +Crusades have been thought to have exercised +some influence on European civilization. But religion +was certainly the prime mover of the Crusades. +Mohammedanism exercised some influence on the +development of European life. But Mohammedanism +was an embodiment of religious ideas. +The Protestant Reformation shook every institution, +every nation, every part of social life, in +Christendom, and Europe rocked to its foundations +under the influence of this great movement. But +religion was the prime mover of it all. The English<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span> +Revolution turned on religious ideas. The +rise of the Dutch Republic was determined by +them. In one form they colonized South America +and Mexico; in another form, they planted New +England. Such great constructive minds as those +of Alfred and Charlemagne have been benevolently +inspired by rational religion; such dark, destructive +natures as those of Philip II. of Spain, Catharine +de Medicis of France, and Mary Tudor of +England have been malevolently inspired by fanatical +religion.</p> + +<p>On what grounds, then, does Mr. Buckle dispute +the influence of religion? On two grounds +mainly. First, he tells us that moral ideas are +not susceptible of progress, and therefore cannot +have exercised any perceptible influence on the +progress of civilization. For that which does not +change, he argues, cannot influence that which +changes. That which has been known for thousands +of years cannot be the cause of an event +which took place for the first time only yesterday. +"Since civilization is the product of moral and +intellectual agencies," says Mr. Buckle, "and since +that product is constantly changing, it cannot be +regulated by the stationary agent; because when +surrounding circumstances are unchanged, a stationary +agent can produce only a stationary effect." +On this principle, gravitation could not be the +cause of the appearance of Donati's comet in the +neighborhood of the sun. For gravitation is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> +stationary and uniform agent; it cannot therefore +produce an accelerated motion. Mr. Buckle will +answer, that though the law of gravitation is one +and the same in all ages, and uniform in its action, +the result of its action may be different at different +times, according to the position in the universe of +the object acted upon. True; and in like manner +we may say, that, though religious ideas are immutable, +the result of their action on the human mind +may be different, according to the position of that +mind in relation to them. The doctrine of one +God, the Maker and Lord of all things, was not a +new one, or one newly discovered in the seventh +century. Yet when applied by Mohammed to the +Arabian mind, it was like a spark coming in contact +with gunpowder. Those wandering sons of +the desert, unknown before in the affairs of the +world, and a negative quantity in human history, +sprang up a terrible power, capable of overrunning +and conquering half the earth. Religion awakened +them; religion organized them; religion directed +them. The fact that an idea is an old one is no +proof, therefore, that it may not suddenly begin to +act with awful efficiency on civilization and the +destiny of man.</p> + +<p>The other reason given by Mr. Buckle why religious +ideas have little influence in history is, that +the religion of a nation is symptomatic of its mental +and moral state. Men take the religious ideas +which suit them. A religion not suited to a people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> +cannot be accepted by it; or, if accepted, has no +influence on it. This thought, argued at considerable +length by Mr. Buckle, is so perfectly true as +to be a truism. The religion of a people is no +doubt an effect. But may it not also be a cause? +It, no doubt, cannot be received by a people not +prepared for it. But does it therefore exercise no +influence on a people which it finds prepared? +Fire cannot explode an unexplosive material, nor +inflame one not inflammable. But does it follow +that it effects nothing when brought into contact +with one which is inflammable or explosive? A +burning coal laid on a rock or put into the water +produces no effect. But does this prove that the +explosion of gunpowder is in no manner due to the +contact of fire?</p> + +<p>"The religion of mankind," says Mr. Buckle, +"is the effect of their improvement, and not the +cause of it." His proof is that missions and missionaries +among the heathen produce only a superficial +change among barbarous and unenlightened +tribes. Knowledge, he says, must prepare the +way for it. There must, no doubt, be some kind +of preparation for Christianity. But does it follow +that Christianity, when its way is prepared, is +<em>only</em> an effect? Why may it not be also a cause? +Judaism prepared the way for Christianity. But +did not Christianity produce some effect on Judaism? +The Arab mind was prepared for Mohammedanism. +But did not Mohammedanism produce<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +some effect on the Arab mind? Europe was prepared +by various influences for Protestantism. +But did not Protestantism produce some effects on +Europe?</p> + +<p>It might, with equal truth, and perhaps with +greater truth, be asserted that intellectual ideas +are the result of previous training, and that they +are therefore an effect, and by no means a cause. +The intellectual truths accepted by any period depend +certainly on the advanced condition of human +culture. You cannot teach logarithms to Hottentots, +trigonometry to Digger Indians, or the differential +calculus to the Feejee Islanders. Hence, +according to our author's logic, those very intellectual +ideas which he thinks the only great movers +in human affairs are really no movers at all, but +only symptoms of the actual intellectual condition +of a nation.</p> + +<p>But it is a curious fact, that, while Mr. Buckle +considers religious ideas of so little importance in +the history of civilization, he nevertheless devotes +a large part of both his volumes to proving the +great evil done to civilization by erroneous forms +of religious opinion. Nearly the whole of his second +volume is in fact given to showing the harm +done in Spain and Scotland by false systems of +religious thought. Why spend page after page +in showing the evil influence of false religion on +society, if religion, whether true or false, has +scarcely any influence at all? Why search through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> +all the records of religious fanaticism and superstition, +to bring up to the day the ghosts of dead beliefs, +if these beliefs are, after all, powerless either +for good or evil?</p> + +<div class="tb">*<span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<p>The second volume, the recent publication of +which has suggested this second review of Mr. +Buckle's work, contains much of interest and +value, but suffers from the imperfect method of +which we complained at the beginning of this article. +It is chiefly devoted to a description of the +evils resulting from priestcraft in the two countries +of Spain and Scotland. It contains six chapters. +The first is on the History of the Spanish Intellect +from the fifth to the middle of the nineteenth +century. The other five chapters relate to Scotland.</p> + +<p>In the chapter on Spain Buckle attempts to show +how loyalty and superstition began in this nation, +and what has been the result. Of course, according +to his theory, he is obliged to trace their origin +to external circumstances, and he finds the cause +of the superstition in the climate, which produced +drought and famine, and in the earthquakes which +alarmed the people. And here Mr. Buckle, following +the philosophy of Lucretius, confounds religion +and fear, and puts the occasion for the cause. But, +beside earthquakes, the Arian heresy helped to +create this superstition, by identifying the wars +for national independence with those for religion,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> +and so giving a great ascendency to the priests. +Hence the Church in Spain early acquired great +power, and, naturally allying itself with the government, +gave rise to the sentiment of loyalty, which +was increased by the Moorish invasion and the +long wars which followed. Loyalty and superstition +thus became so deeply rooted in the Spanish +mind, that they could not be eradicated by the +efforts of the government. Nothing but knowledge +can cure this blind and servile loyalty and +this abject superstition, and while Spain continues +sunk in ignorance it must always remain superstitious +and submissive.</p> + +<p>Some difficulties, however, suggest themselves +in the way of this very simple explanation. If +superstitious loyalty to Church and king comes +from earthquakes, why are not the earthquake +regions of the West Indies and of South America +more loyal, instead of being in a state of chronic +revolution? And how came Scotland to be so +diseased with loyalty and superstition, when she +is so free from earthquakes? And if knowledge +is such a certain cure for superstition, why was not +Spain cured by the flood of light which she, alone +of all European countries, enjoyed in the Middle +Ages? Spain was for a long time the source of +science and art to all Europe, whose Christian +sons resorted to her universities and libraries for +instruction. There was taught to English, French, +and German students the philosophy of Aristotle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> +the Græco-Arabic literature, mathematics, and natural +history. The numerals, gunpowder, paper, +and other inventions of the Arabs, passed into +Europe from Spain. She possessed, therefore, +that knowledge of physical laws which Mr. Buckle +declares to be the only cure for superstition. Yet +she was not cured. The nation which, according +to his theory, ought to have been soonest delivered +from superstition, according to his statements has +retained its yoke longer than any other.</p> + +<p>From Spain Mr. Buckle passes to Scotland, +where he finds a still more complicated problem. +Superstition and loyalty ought to go together, he +thinks,—and usually do; but in Scotland they are +divorced. The Scotch have always been superstitious, +but disloyal. To the explanation of this fact +Mr. Buckle bends his energies of thought, and of +course is able to find a theory to account for it. +This theory we shall not stop to detail; it is too +complex, and at the same time too superficial, to +dwell upon. Its chief point is that the Protestant +noblemen and Protestant clergy quarreled about +the wealth of the Catholic Church, and so there +was in Scotland a complete rupture between the +two classes elsewhere in alliance. Thus "the +clergy, finding themselves despised by the governing +class, united themselves heartily with the people, +and advocated democratic principles." Such +is the explanation given to the course of history in +a great nation. A quarrel between its noblemen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> +and its ministers (who are of course represented as +mercenary self-seekers) determines its permanent +character!</p> + +<p>Mr. Buckle, to whom the love of plunder appears +as the cause of what other men regard as loyalty +or religion, explains by the same fact the loyalty of +the Highlanders to King Charles. They thought +that, if he conquered, he would allow them to plunder +the Lowlanders once more. This is Buckle's +explanation. An ethnologist would have remembered +the fact that the Gaels are pure-blooded +Kelts, and that the Kelts <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">pur sang</i> are everywhere +distinguished for loyalty to their chiefs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Buckle encounters another difficulty in +Scottish history in this, that though a new and +splendid literature arose in Scotland at the beginning +of the eighteenth century, it was unable to +diminish national superstition. It was thoroughly +skeptical, and yet did not produce the appropriate +effect of skepticism. So that at this point one of Mr. +Buckle's four great laws of history seems to break +down. For a moment he appears discouraged, +and laments, with real pathos, the limitations of +the human intellect. But in the next chapter he +addresses himself again to the solution of his two-fold +problem, viz.: "1st, that the same people +should be liberal in their politics and illiberal in +their religion; and, 2d, that their free and skeptical +literature in the eighteenth century should +have been unable to lessen their religious illiberality."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> +In approaching this part of his task, in the fifth +chapter, our author gives a very elaborate and +highly colored picture of the religion of Scotland. +It is <em>too</em> well done. Like some of Macaulay's +descriptions, it is so very striking as to impress us +almost inevitably as a caricature. Every statement +in which the horrors and cruelties of Calvinism +are described is indeed reinforced by ample +citations or plentiful references in the footnotes. +But some of these seem capable of a different +inference from that drawn in the text. For instance, +he charges the Scottish clergy with teaching, +that, though the arrangements originally +made by the Deity to punish his creatures were +ample, "they were insufficient; and hell, not +being big enough to contain the countless victims +incessantly poured into it, had in these latter days +been enlarged. There was now sufficient room." +He supports the charge by this reference to Abernethy,—"Hell +has enlarged itself,"—apparently +not being aware that Abernethy was merely quoting +from Isaiah. He says that to write poetry +was considered by the Scotch clergy to be a grievous +offence, and worthy of special condemnation. +He supports his statement by this reference: "A +mastership in a grammar school was offered in +1767 to John Wilson, the author of 'Clyde'" (a +poet, by the by, not found among the twenty John +Wilsons commemorated by Watt). "But, says +his biographer, the magistrates and ministers of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> +Greenock thought fit, before they would admit +Mr. Wilson to the superintendence of the grammar +school, to stipulate that he should abandon +'the profane and unprofitable art of poem-making.'" +This fact, however, by no means proves +that poetry was considered, theologically, a sin, +for perhaps it was regarded practically as only a +disqualification. It is to be feared that many of +our school committees now—country shopkeepers, +perhaps, or city aldermen—would, apart from +Calvinism, think that a poet must be necessarily a +dreamer and an unpractical man.</p> + +<p>A few exaggerations of this kind there may be. +But, on the whole, the account seems to be correctly +given; and it is one which will do good.</p> + +<p>In the remaining portion of the second volume +Mr. Buckle gives a very vigorous description of +the intellectual progress of the Scotch during the +seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. His account +of Adam Smith as a writer is peculiarly +brilliant. His views of Hume and Reid are ably +drawn. Thence he proceeds to discuss the discoveries +of Black and Leslie in natural philosophy, +of Smith and Hutton in geology, of Cavendish in +chemistry, of Cullen and Hunter in physiology +and pathology. These discussions are interesting, +and show a great range of knowledge and power +of study in the writer. Yet they are episodes, and +have little bearing on the main course of his +thought.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> +We have thus given a cursory survey of these +volumes. We do not think Buckle's philosophy +sound, his method good, or his doctrines tenable. +Yet we cannot but sympathize with one who has +devoted his strength and youth with such untiring +industry to such a great enterprise. And we must +needs be touched with the plaintive confession +which breaks from his wearied mind and exhausted +hope in the last volume, when he accepts the defeat +of his early endeavor, and submits to the +disappointment of his youthful hope. We should +be glad to quote the entire <span class="locked">passage,<a name="FNanchor_33" id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">33</a></span> because it is +the best in the book, and because he expresses in +it, in the most condensed form, his ideas and purposes +as an historic writer. But our limited space +allows us only to commend it to the special attention +of the reader.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="VOLTAIRE"><a id="VOLTAIRE">VOLTAIRE</a><a name="FNanchor_34" id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">34</a></h2> + +<p>Mr. Parton has given us in these <span class="locked">volumes<a name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">35</a></span> +another of his interesting and instructive biographies. +Not as interesting, indeed, as some others,—for +example, as his life of Andrew Jackson; +nor as instructive as his lives of Franklin and of +Jefferson. The nature of the case made this impossible. +The story of Jackson had never been +told till Mr. Parton undertook it. It was a history +of frontier life, of strange adventures, of +desperate courage, of a force of character which +conquered all obstacles and achieved extraordinary +results; a story</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Of moving accidents by flood and field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of being taken by the insolent foe."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">No such interest attaches to the "Life of Voltaire." +His most serious adventure was being shut up in +the Bastille for a pasquinade, and being set free +again on his solemn protestation, true or false, +that he never wrote it. It is an old story, told a +thousand times, with all its gloss, if it ever had any,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> +quite worn off. The "Life of Franklin," which, +on the whole, we think the best of Parton's biographies, +was full of interest and instruction of another +kind. It was the life of a builder,—of one +who gave his great powers to construction, to +building up new institutions and new sciences, to +the discovery of knowledge and the creation of +national life. Voltaire was a diffuser of knowledge +already found, but he had not the patience +nor the devotion of a discoverer. His gift was +not to construct good institutions, but to destroy +bad ones,—a work the interest of which is necessarily +ephemeral. No wonder, therefore, that Mr. +Parton, with all his practiced skill as a biographer, +has not been able to give to the story of Voltaire +the thrilling interest which he imparted to that of +Franklin and of Jackson.</p> + +<p>We gladly take the present opportunity to add +our recognition of Mr. Parton's services to those +which have come to him from other quarters. A +writer of unequal merit, and one whose judgment +is often biased by his prejudices, he nevertheless +has done much to show how biography should be +written. Of all forms of human writing there is +none which ought to be at once so instructive and +so interesting as this, but in the large majority of +instances it is the most vapid and empty. The +good biographies, in all languages, are so few that +they can almost be counted on the fingers; but +these are among the most precious books in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> +literature of mankind. The story of Ruth, the +Odyssey of Homer, Plutarch's lives, the Memorabilia +of Xenophon, the life of Agricola, the Confessions +of Augustine, among the ancients; and, in +modern times, Boswell's "Johnson," the autobiographies +of Alfieri, Benvenuto Cellini, Franklin, +Goethe, Voltaire's "Charles XII.," and Southey's +"Life of Wesley" are specimens of what may +be accomplished in this direction. It has been +thought that any man can write a biography, but +it requires genius to understand genius. How +much intelligence is necessary to collect with discrimination +the significant facts of a human life; +to penetrate to the law of which they are the expression; +to give the picturesque proportions to +every part, to arrange the foreground, the middle +distance, and the background of the panorama; to +bring out in proper light and shadow the features +and deeds of the hero! Few biographers take +this trouble. They content themselves with collecting +the letters written by and to their subject; +sweeping together the facts of his life, important +or otherwise; arranging them in some kind of +chronological order; and then having this printed +and bound up in one or two heavy volumes.</p> + +<p>To all this many writers of biography add another +fault, which is almost a fatal one. They +treat their subject <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">de haut en bas</i>, preferring to +look down upon him rather than to look up to +him. They occupy themselves in criticising his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> +faults and pointing out his deficiencies, till they +forget to mention what he has accomplished to +make him worthy of having his life written at all. +We lately saw a life of Pope treated in this style. +One unacquainted with Pope, after reading it, +would say, "If he was such a contemptible fellow, +and his writings so insignificant, why should we +have to read his biography?" Thomas Carlyle +has the great merit of leading the way in the +opposite direction, and of thus initiating a new +style of biography. The old method was for the +writer to regard himself as a judge on the bench, +and the subject of his biography as a prisoner at +the bar. Carlyle, in his "Life of Schiller," showed +himself a loving disciple, sitting at the feet of his +master. We recollect that when this work first +appeared there were only a few copies known to be +in this country. One was in the possession of an +eminent professor in Harvard College, of whom +the present writer borrowed it. On returning it, +he was asked what he thought of it, and replied +that he considered it written with much enthusiasm. +"Yes," responded the professor, "I myself +thought it rather extravagant." Enthusiasm in a +biographer was then considered to be the same as +extravagance. But this hero-worship, which is +the charm in Plutarch, Xenophon, and Boswell, +inspired a like interest in Carlyle's portraits of +Schiller, Goethe, Richter, Burns, and the actors in +the French Revolution. So true is his own warning:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> +"Friend, if you wish me to take an interest +in what you say, be so kind as to take some interest +in it yourself"—a golden maxim, to be +kept in mind by all historians, writers of travels, +biographers, preachers, and teachers. A social +success may sometimes be accomplished by assuming +the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">blasé</i> air of the Roman emperor who said, +"Omnia fui, nihil expedit;" but this tone is +ruinous for one who wishes the ear of the public.</p> + +<p>Since the days of Carlyle, others have written +in the same spirit, allowing themselves to take +more or less interest in the man whose life they +were relating. So Macaulay, in his sketches of +Clive, Hastings, Chatham, Pym, and Hampden; +so Lewes, in his "Life of Goethe;" and so Parton, +in his various biographies.</p> + +<p>In some respects Mr. Parton's biography reminds +us of Macaulay's History. Both have been +credited with the same qualities, both charged +with the same defects. Both are indefatigable in +collecting material from all quarters,—from other +histories and biographies, memoirs, letters, newspapers, +broadsides, and personal communications +gathered in many out-of-the-way localities. Both +have the power of discarding insignificant details +and retaining what is suggestive and picturesque. +Both, therefore, have the same supreme merit of +being interesting. Both have strong prejudices, +take sides earnestly, forget that they are narrators, +and begin to plead as attorneys and advocates.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> +Both have been accused, rightly or wrongly, of +grave inaccuracies. But their defects will not prevent +them from holding their place as teachers of +the English-speaking public. English and American +readers will long continue to think of Marlborough +as Macaulay represents him; of Jackson +and Jefferson as Parton describes them. Such +Rembrandt-like portraits fix the attention by their +strange chiaro-oscuro. They may not be like nature, +but they take the place of nature. The most +remarkable instance of this kind is the representation +of Tiberius by Tacitus, which has caused +mankind, until very recently, to consider Tiberius +a monster of licentiousness and cruelty, in spite of +the almost self-evident absurdity and self-contradiction +of this <span class="locked">assumption.<a name="FNanchor_36" id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">36</a></span> Limners with such a +terrible power of portraiture should be very careful +how they use it, and not abuse the faculty in +the interest of their prejudices.</p> + +<p>If Mr. Parton resembles Macaulay in some respects, +in one point, at least, he is like Carlyle: +that is, that his last hero is the least interesting. +From Schiller and Goethe to Frederic the Great +was a fall; and so from Franklin to Voltaire. +Carlyle tells us what a weary task he had with his +Prussian king, and we think that Mr. Parton's +labors over the patriarch of the eighteenth-century<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> +literature must have been equally distressing. At +a distance, Voltaire is a striking phenomenon: the +most brilliant wit of almost any period; the most +prolific writer; a successful dramatist, historian, +biographer, story-teller, controversialist, lyrical +poet, student of science. "Truly, a universal +genius, a mighty power!" we say. But look +more closely, and this genius turns into talent; +this encyclopædic knowledge becomes only superficial +half knowledge; this royalty is a sham royalty; +it does not lead the world, but follows it. +The work into which Voltaire put his heart was +destruction—the destruction of falsehoods, bigotries, +cruelties, and shams. It was an important +duty, and some one had to do it. But it was +temporary, and one of which the interest is soon +over. If Luther and the other reformers had +aimed at only destroying the Church of Rome, +their influence would have speedily ceased. But +they rebuilt, as they destroyed; the sword in one +hand, and the trowel in the other. They destroyed +in order to build; they took away the outgrown +house, to put another in its place. Voltaire did +not go so far as that; he wanted no new church +in the place of the old one.</p> + +<p>Voltaire and Rousseau are often spoken of as +though they were fellow-workers, and are associated +in many minds as sharing the same convictions. +Nothing can be more untrue. They were +radically opposite in the very structure of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span> +minds, and their followers and admirers are +equally different. If all men can be divided into +Platonists and Aristotelians, they may be in like +manner classified as those who prefer Voltaire to +Rousseau, and <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vice versa</i>. Both were indeed theists, +and both opposed to the popular religion of +their time. Both were brilliant writers, masters +of the French language, listened to by the people, +and with a vast popularity. Both were more or +less persecuted for their religious heresies. So far +they resemble each other. But these are only +external resemblances; radically and inwardly +they were polar opposites. What attracted one +repelled the other. Voltaire was a man of the +world, fond of society and social pleasures; the +child of his time, popular, a universal favorite. +Rousseau shrank from society, hated its fashions, +did not enjoy its pleasures, and belonged to another +epoch than the eighteenth century. Rousseau +believed in human nature, and thought that +if we could return to our natural condition the +miseries of life would cease. Voltaire despised +human nature; he forever repeated that the majority +of men were knaves and fools. Rousseau +distrusted education and culture as they are commonly +understood; but to Voltaire's mind they +were the only matters of any value,—all that +made life worth living. Rousseau was more like +Pascal than like Voltaire; far below Pascal, no +doubt, in fixed moral principles and ascetic virtue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> +Yet he resembled him in his devotion to ideas, his +enthusiasm for some better day to come. Both +were out of place in their own time; both were +prophets crying in the wilderness. Put Voltaire +between Pascal and Rousseau, and it would be +something like the tableau of Goethe between +Basedow and Lavater.</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem" xml:lang="de" lang="de"> +<span class="i0q">"Prophete rechts, Propliete links,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Das Weltkind in der Mitte."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">The difference between Voltaire and Rousseau was +really that between a man of talent and a man of +genius. Voltaire, brilliant, adroit, full of resource, +quick as a flash, versatile, with immense powers of +working, with a life full of literary successes, has +not left behind him a single masterpiece. He +comes in everywhere second best. As a tragedian +he is inferior to Racine; as a wit and comic writer +far below Molière; and he is quite surpassed as a +historian and biographer by many modern French +authors. No germinating ideas are to be found in +his writings, no seed corn for future harvests. He +thought himself a philosopher, and was so regarded +by others; but neither had his philosophy +any roots to it. A sufficient proof of this is the +fact that he shared the superficial optimism of the +English deists, as expressed by Bolingbroke and +Pope, until the Lisbon earthquake, by destroying +thirty thousand people, changed his whole mental +attitude. Till then he could say with Pope, +"Whatever is, is right." After that, most things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span> +which are, appeared to him fatally and hopelessly +wrong. That thirty thousand persons should perish +in a few minutes, in great suffering, he thought +inconsistent with the goodness of God. But take +the whole world over, thirty thousand people are +continually perishing, in the course of a few hours +or days. What difference does it make, in a +philosophical point of view, if they die all at once +in a particular place, or at longer intervals in +many places? Voltaire asks, "What crime had +those infants committed who lie crushed on their +mother's breasts?" What crime, we reply, have +the infants committed who have been dying by +millions, in suffering, since the world began? +"Was Lisbon," he asks, "more wicked than +Paris?" But had Voltaire never noticed before +that wicked people often live on in health and +pleasure, while the good suffer and die? Voltaire +did not see, what it requires very little philosophy +to discover, that a Lisbon earthquake really presents +no more difficulty to the reason than the +suffering and death of a single child.</p> + +<p>Another fact which shows the shallow nature of +Voltaire's way of thinking is his expectation of +destroying Christianity by a combined attack upon +it of all the wits and philosophers. Mr. Parton +tells us that "l'Infâme," which Voltaire expected +to crush, "was not religion, nor the Christian +religion, nor the Roman Catholic Church. It was," +he says, "<em>religion claiming supernatural authority,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span> +and enforcing that claim by pains and penalties</em>." +No doubt it was the spirit of intolerance +and persecution which excited his indignation. +But the object of that indignation was not the +abstraction which Mr. Parton presents to us. It +was something far more concrete. There is no +doubt that Voltaire confounded Christianity with +the churches about him, and these with their +abuses; and thus his object was to sweep away all +positive religious institutions, and to leave in their +place a philosophic deism. Else what meaning in +his famous boast that "it required twelve men to +found a belief, which it would need only one man +to destroy"? What meaning, otherwise, in his +astonishment that Locke, "having in one book so +profoundly traced the development of the understanding, +could so degrade his own understanding +in another"?—referring, as Mr. Morley believes, +to Locke's "Reasonableness of Christianity." Voltaire +saw around him Christianity represented by +cruel bigots, ecclesiastics living in indolent luxury, +narrow-minded and hard-hearted priests. That +was all the Christianity he saw with his sharp perceptive +faculty; and he had no power of penetrating +into the deeper life of the soul which these +corruptions misrepresented. We do not blame +him for this; he was made so; but it was a fatal +defect in a reformer. The first work of a reformer +is to discover the truth and the good latent +amid the abuses he wishes to reform, and for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> +sake of which men endure the evil. A Buddhist +proverb says, "The human mind is like a leech: +it never lets go with its tail till it has taken hold +somewhere else with its head." Distinguish the +good in a system from the evil; show how the +good can be preserved, though the evil is abandoned, +and then you may hope to effect a truly +radical reform. Radicalism means going to the +roots of anything. Voltaire was incapable of becoming +a radical reformer of the Christian Church, +because he had in himself no faculty by which he +could appreciate the central forces of Christianity. +Mr. Morley says that Voltaire "has said no word, +nor even shown an indirect appreciation of any +word said by another, which stirs and expands +that indefinite exaltation known as the love of +God," "or of the larger word holiness." "Through +the affronts which his reason received from certain +pretensions, both in the writers and in some of +those whose actions they commemorated, this sublime +trait in the Bible, in both portions of it, was +unhappily lost to Voltaire. He had no ear for the +finer vibrations of the spiritual voice." And so +also speaks Carlyle: "It is a much more serious +ground of offense that he intermeddled in religion +without being himself, in any measure, religious; +that he entered the temple and continued there +with a levity which, in any temple where men +worship, can beseem no brother man; that, in a +word, he ardently, and with long-continued effort,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> +warred against Christianity, without understanding +beyond the mere superficies of what Christianity +was." In fact, in the organization of Voltaire, +the organ of reverence, "the crown of the whole +moral nature," seems to have been at its minimum. +A sense of justice there was; an ardent sympathy +with the oppressed, a generous hatred of the oppressor, +a ready devotion of time, thought, wealth, +to the relief of the down-trodden victim. Therefore, +with such qualities, Voltaire, by the additional +help of his indefatigable energy, often succeeded +in plucking the prey from the jaws of the +lion. He was able to defeat the combined powers +of Church and State in his advocacy of some individual +sufferer, in his battle against some single +wrong. But his long war against the Catholic +Church in France left it just where it was when +that war began. Its power to-day in France is +greater than it was then, because it is a purer and +better institution than it was then. That Sphinx +still sits by the roadside propounding its riddle. +Voltaire was not the Œdipus who could solve it, +and so the life of that mystery remains untouched +until now.</p> + +<p>The Henriade has often been considered the +great epic poem of France. This merely means +that France has never produced a great epic poem. +The Henriade is artificial, prosaic, and has no +particle of the glow, the fire, the prolonged enthusiasm, +which alone can give an epic poem to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> +mankind. In this sentence all competent critics +are agreed.</p> + +<p>Voltaire was busy with literature during his +whole life. He not only wrote continually himself, +but he was a critic of the writings of others. +His mind was essentially critical,—formed to +analyze, discriminate sharply, compare, and judge +by some universal standard of taste. Here, if +anywhere, he ought to be at his best; here, if in +any department, he should stand at the head of +the world's board of literary censors. But here, +again, he is not even second-rate; here, more than +elsewhere, he shows how superficial are his judgments. +He tests every writer by the French +standard in the eighteenth century. Every word +which Goethe, Schiller, Lessing, have said of +other writers is full of value and interest to-day. +But who would go to Voltaire for light on any +book or author? We have an instinctive but certain +conviction that all his views are limited by +his immediate environment, perverted by his personal +prejudices. Thus, he prefers Ariosto to the +Odyssey, and Tasso's Jerusalem to the <span class="locked">Iliad.<a name="FNanchor_37" id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">37</a></span> +His inability to comprehend the greatness of +Shakespeare is well known. He is filled with +indignation because a French critic had called +Shakespeare "the god of the stage." "The blood +boils in my old veins," says he; "and what is +frightful to think of, it was I myself who first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span> +showed to Frenchmen the few pearls to be found +in the <span class="locked">dunghill."<a name="FNanchor_38" id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">38</a></span> Chesterfield's Letters to his +Son he considers "the best book upon education +ever <span class="locked">written."<a name="FNanchor_39" id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">39</a></span> This is the book in which a +father teaches his son the art of polite falsehood, +of which Dr. Johnson says that "it shows how +grace can be united with wickedness,"—the book +whose author is called by De Vere the philosopher +of flattery and dissimulation. He admitted that +there were some good things in Milton, but speaks +of his conceptions as "odd and <span class="locked">extravagant."<a name="FNanchor_40" id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">40</a></span> +He thought Condorcet much superior to Pascal. +The verses of Helvetius he believed better than +any but those of Racine. The era was what Villemain +calls "the golden age of mediocre writers;" +and Voltaire habitually praised them all. But +these writers mostly belonged to a mutual admiration +society. The anatomist Tissot, in one of his +physiological works, says that the genius of Diderot +came to show to mankind how every variety of +talent could be brought to perfection in one man. +Diderot, in his turn, went into frantic delight over +the novels of Richardson. "Since I have read +these works," he says, "I make them my touchstone; +those who do not admire them are self-condemned. +O my friends, what majestic dramas +are these three, Clarissa, Sir Charles Grandison, +and Pamela!" Such was the eighteenth century; +and Voltaire belonged to it with all the intensity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> +of his ardent nature. He may be said never to +have seen or foreseen anything better. Living on +the very verge of a great social revolution, he does +not appear to have suspected what its nature +would be, even if he suspected its approach. The +cruelties of the Church exasperated him, but the +political condition of society, the misery of the +peasants, the luxury of the nobles, the despotism +of the king, left him unmoved. He was singularly +deficient in any conception of the value of political +liberty or of free institutions. If he had lived to +see the coming of the Revolution, it would have +utterly astounded him. His sympathies were with +an enlightened aristocracy, not with the people. +In this, too, he was the man of his time, and belonged +to the middle of his century, not the end of +it. He saw and lamented the evils of bad government. +He pointed out the miseries produced by +war. He abhorred and denounced the military +spirit. He called on the clergy, in the name of +their religion, to join him in his righteous appeals +against this great curse of mankind. "Where," +he asks, "in the five or six thousand sermons of +Massillon, are there two in which anything is said +against the scourge of war?" He rebukes the +philosophers and moralists, also, for their delinquency +in this matter, and replies forcibly to Montesquieu's +argument that self-defense sometimes +makes it necessary to begin the attack on a neighboring +nation. But he does not go back to trace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span> +the evil to its root in the absence of self-government. +In a letter to the King of Prussia he says, +"When I asked you to become the deliverer of +Greece, I did not mean to have you restore the +democracy. I do not love the rule of the rabble" +(<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">gouvernement de la canaille</i>). Again, writing to +the same, in January, 1757, he says, "Your majesty +will confer a great benefit by destroying this +infamous superstition [Christianity]; I do not say +among the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">canaille</i>, who do not deserve to be enlightened, +and who ought to be kept down under +all yokes, but among honest people, people who +think. Give white bread to the children, but only +black bread to the dogs." In 1762, writing to the +Marquis d'Argens, he says, "The Turks say that +their Koran has sometimes the face of an angel, +sometimes the face of a beast. This description +suits our time. There are a few philosophers,—they +have the face of an angel; all else much +resembles that of a beast." Again, he says to +Helvetius, "Consider no man your neighbor but +the man who thinks; look on all other men as +wolves, foxes, and deer." "We shall soon see," +he writes to D'Alembert, "new heavens and a +new earth,—I mean for honest people; for as to +the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">canaille</i>, the stupidest heaven and earth is all +they are fit for." The real government of nations, +according to him, should be administered by absolute +kings, in the interest of freethinkers.</p> + +<p>It is true that after Rousseau had published his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> +trumpet-call in behalf of democratic rights, Voltaire +began to waver. It has been remarked that +"at the very time when he expressed an increasing +ill-will against the person of the author of 'Emile,' +he was irresistibly attracted to the principal doctrines +of Rousseau. He entered, as if in spite of +himself, into paths toward which his feet were +never before directed. As if to revenge himself +for coming under this salutary influence, he pursued +Rousseau with blind <span class="locked">anger."<a name="FNanchor_41" id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">41</a></span> He harshly +attacked the Social Contract, but accepted the +sovereignty of the people; saying that "civil government +is the will of all, executed by a single +one, or by several, in virtue of the laws which all +have enacted." He, however, speedily restricted +this democratic principle by confining the right of +making laws to the owners of real estate. He declares +that those who have neither house nor land +ought not to have any voice in the matter. He +now began (in 1764) to look forward to the end +of monarchies, and to expect a revolution. Nevertheless, +he plainly declares, "The pretended +equality of man is a pernicious chimera. If there +were not thirty laborers to one master, the earth +would not be cultivated." But in practical and +humane reforms Voltaire took the lead, and did +good work. He opposed examination by torture, +the punishment of death for theft, the confiscation +of the property of the condemned, the penalties<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> +against heretics; secret trials; praised trial by +jury, civil marriage, right of divorce, and reforms +in the direction of hygiene and education.</p> + +<p>And, above all, whatever fault may be found +with Voltaire, let us never cease to appreciate his +generous efforts in behalf of the unfortunate victims +of the atrocious bigotry which then prevailed +in France. It is not necessary to dwell here on +the cases of Calas, the Sirvens, La Barre, and the +Count de Lally. They are fully told by Mr. Parton, +and to his account we refer our readers. In +1762 the Protestant pastor Rochette was hanged, +by order of the Parliament of Toulouse, for having +exercised his ministry in Languedoc. At the same +time three young gentlemen, Protestants, were beheaded, +for having taken arms to defend themselves +from being slaughtered by the Catholics. +In 1762, the Protestant merchant Calas, an aged +and worthy citizen of Toulouse, was tortured and +broken on the wheel, on a wholly unsupported +charge of having killed his son to keep him from +turning Catholic. A Protestant girl named Sirven +was, about the same time, taken from her parents, +and shut up in a convent, to compel her to change +her religion. She escaped, and perished by accident +during her flight. The parents were accused +of having killed her to keep her from becoming a +Catholic. They escaped, but the wife died of exposure +and want. In 1766 a crucifix was injured +by some wanton persons. The Bishop of Amiens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span> +called out for vengeance. Two young officers, +eighteen years old, were accused. One escaped; +the other, La Barre, was condemned to have his +tongue cut out, his right hand cut off, and to be +burned alive. The sentence was commuted to death +by decapitation. Voltaire, seventy years old, devoted +himself with masterly ability and untiring +energy to save these victims; and when he failed +in that, to show the falsehood of the charges, and +to obtain a revision of the judgments. He used +all means: personal appeals to men in power and +to female favorites, eloquence, wit, pathos in every +form of writing. He called on all his friends to +aid him. He poured a flood of light into these +dark places of iniquity. His generous labors were +crowned with success. He procured a reversal of +these iniquitous decisions; in some cases a restoration +of the confiscated property, and a public +recognition of the innocence of those condemned. +Without knowing it, he was acting as a disciple +of Jesus. Perhaps he may have met in the other +world with the great leader of humanity, whom he +never understood below, and been surprised to hear +him say, "Inasmuch as thou hast done it to the +least of my little ones, thou hast done it unto me."</p> + +<p>Carlyle tells us that the chief quality of Voltaire +was <em>adroitness</em>. He denies that he was really a +great man, and says that in one essential mark +of greatness he was wholly wanting, that is, earnestness. +He adds that Voltaire was by birth a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span> +mocker; that this was the irresistible bias of his +disposition; that the first question with him was +always not what is true but what is false, not what +is to be loved but what is to be contemned. He +was shallow without heroism, full of pettiness, full +of vanity; "not a great man, but only a great <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">persifleur</i>."</p> + +<p>But certainly some other qualities than these +were essential to produce the immense influence +which he exerted in his own time, and since. Beside +the extreme adroitness of which Carlyle speaks, +he had as exhaustless an energy as was ever granted +to any of the sons of men. He was never happy +except when he was at work. He worked at home, +he worked when visiting, he worked in his carriage, +he worked at hotels. Amid annoyances and disturbances +which would have paralyzed the thought +and pen of others, Voltaire labored on. Upon his +sick bed, in extreme debility and in old age, that +untiring pen was ever in motion, and whatever +came from it interested all mankind. Besides the +innumerable books, tracts, and treatises which fill +the volumes of his collected works, there are said +to be in existence fourteen thousand of his letters, +half of which have never been printed. But this +was only a part of the outcome of his terrible vitality. +He was also an enterprising and energetic +man of business. He speculated in the funds, lent +money on interest, fitted out ships, bought and sold +real estate, solicited and obtained pensions. In this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> +way he changed his patrimony of about two hundred +thousand francs to an annual income of the +same amount,—equal to at least one hundred +thousand dollars a year at the present time. He +was determined to be rich, and he became so; not +because he loved money for itself, nor because he +was covetous. He gave money freely; he used it +in large ways. He sought wealth as a means of +self-defense,—to protect himself against the persecution +which his attacks on the Church might bring +upon him. He also had, like a great writer of the +present century, Walter Scott, the desire of being +a large landed proprietor and lord of a manor; +and, like Scott, he became one, reigning at Ferney +as Scott ruled at Abbotsford.</p> + +<p>In defending himself against his persecutors he +used other means not so legitimate. One of his +methods was systematic falsehood. He first concealed, +and then denied, the authorship of any +works which would expose him to danger. He took +the tone of injured innocence. For example, he +had worked with delight, during twenty years, on +his wretched "Pucelle." To write new lines in it, +or a new canto, was his refreshment; to read them +to his friends gave him the most intense satisfaction. +But when the poem found its way into print, +with what an outcry he denies the authorship, almost +before he is charged with it. He assumes +the air of calumniated virtue. The charge, he declares, +is one of the infamous inventions of his enemies.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +He writes to the "Journal Encyclopédique," +"The crowning point of their devilish manœuvres +is the edition of a poem called 'La Pucelle d'Orléans.' +The editor has the face to attribute this +work to the author of the 'Henriade,' the 'Zaïre,' +the 'Mérope,' the 'Alzire,' the 'Siècle de Louis +XIV.' He dares to ascribe to this author the flattest, +meanest, and most gross work which can come +from the press. My pen refuses to copy the tissue +of silly and abominable obscenities of this work +of darkness." When the "Dictionnaire Philosophique" +began to appear, he wrote to D'Alembert, +"As soon as any danger arises, I beg you will let +me know, that I may disavow the work in all the +public papers with my usual candor and innocence." +Mr. Parton tells us that he had <em>a hundred and +eight</em> pseudonyms. He signed his pamphlets A +Benedictine, The Archbishop of Canterbury, A +Quaker, Rev. Josias Roussette, the Abbé Lilladet, +the Abbé Bigorre, the Pastor Bourn. He was also +ready to tell a downright lie when it suited his convenience.</p> + +<p>When "Candide" was printed, in 1758, he +wrote, as Mr. Parton tells us, to a friendly pastor +in Geneva, "I have at length read 'Candide.' +People must have lost their senses to attribute to +me that pack of nonsense. I have, thank God, +better occupation. This optimism [of Pangloss] +obviously destroys the foundation of our holy religion." +Our holy religion!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> +An excuse may be found for these falsehoods. +A writer, it may be said, has a right to his incognito; +if so, he has a right to protect it by denying +the authorship of a book when charged with it. +This is doubtful morality, but Voltaire went far +beyond this. He volunteered his denials. He asserted +in every way, with the most solemn asseverations, +that he was not the author of a book which +he had written with delight. But this was not the +worst. He not only told these author's lies, but +he was a deliberate hypocrite, professing faith in +Christianity, receiving its sacraments, asking spiritual +help from the Pope, and begging for relics +from the Vatican, at the very time that he was +hoping by strenuous efforts to destroy both Catholicism +and Christianity.</p> + +<p>When he was endeavoring to be admitted to a +place in the French Academy, he wrote thus to the +Bishop of <span class="locked">Mirepoix:<a name="FNanchor_42" id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">42</a></span> "Thanks to Heaven, my religion +teaches me to know how to suffer. The +God who founded it, as soon as he deigned to become +man, was of all men the most persecuted. +After such an example, it is almost a crime to +complain.... I can say, before God who hears +me, that I am a good citizen and a true Catholic.... +I have written many pages sanctified by religion." +In this Mr. Parton admits that he went +too far.</p> + +<p>When at Colmar, as a measure of self-protection,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span> +he resolved to commune at Easter. Mr. Parton +says that Voltaire had pensions and rents to +the amount of sixty thousand livres annually, of +which the king could deprive him by a stroke +of the pen. So he determined to prove himself +a good Catholic by taking the sacraments. As a +necessary preliminary, he confessed to a Capuchin +monk. He wrote to D'Argens just before, "If I +had a hundred thousand men, I know what I +should do; but as I have them not, I shall commune +at Easter!" But, writing to Rousseau, he +thinks it shameful in Galileo to retract his opinions. +Mr. Parton too, who is disposed to excuse +some of these hypocrisies in Voltaire, is scandalized +because the pastors of Geneva denied the +charges of heresy brought against them by Voltaire; +saying that "we live, as they lived, in an +atmosphere of insincerity." In the midst of all +this, Voltaire took credit to himself for his frank +avowals of the truth: "I am not wrong to dare to +utter what worthy men think. For forty years I +have braved the base empire of the despots of the +mind." Mr. Parton elsewhere seems to think it +would have been impossible for Voltaire to versify +the Psalms; as it was "asked him to give the lie +publicly to his whole career." But if communing +at Easter did not do this, how could a versification +of a few psalms accomplish it? Parton quotes +Condorcet as saying that Voltaire could not become +a hypocrite, even to be a cardinal. Could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> +any one do a more hypocritical action than to partake +the sacraments of a Church which he despised +in order to escape the danger of persecution?</p> + +<p>When building his house at Ferney, the neighboring +Catholic curés interfered with him. They +prohibited the laborers from working for him. To +meet this difficulty he determined to obtain the +protection of the Pope himself. So he wrote to +the Pope, asking for a relic to put in the church +he had built, and received in return a piece of the +hair-shirt of St. Francis. He went to mass frequently. +Meantime, in his letters to his brother +freethinkers, he added his usual postscript, "Ecrasez +l'Infâme;" begging their aid in crushing +Catholicism and Christianity. Yet it does not +seem that he considered himself a hypocrite in +thus conforming outwardly to a religion which he +hated. He thinks that others who do so are hypocrites, +but not that he is one. In 1764 he writes +to Madame du Deffand, "The worst is that we +are surrounded by hypocrites, who worry us to +make us think what they themselves do not think +at all." So singular are the self-deceptions of the +human mind. He writes to Frederic ridiculing +the sacrament of extreme unction, and then solemnly +partakes of the eucharist. Certainly he +did not belong to the noble army of martyrs. He +expected to overturn a great religious system, not +by the power of faith, but by ingenious pamphlets, +brilliant sarcasms, adroit deceptions. In thus +thinking he was eminently superficial.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span> +His theory on this subject is given in an article +in the "Dictionnaire Philosophique," quoted by +Mr. Parton: "Distinguish honest people who think, +from the populace who were not made to think. +If usage obliges you to perform a ridiculous ceremony +for the sake of the canaille, and on the road +you meet some people of understanding, notify +them by a sign of the head, or a look, that you +think as they do.... If imbeciles still wish to +eat acorns, let them have acorns."</p> + +<p>Mr. Parton describes in full (vol. ii. p. 410) +the ceremony of the eucharist of which Voltaire +partook in his own church at Ferney. It was +Easter Sunday, and Voltaire mounted the pulpit +and preached a sermon against theft. Hearing of +this, the bishop was scandalized, and forbade all +the curates of the diocese from confessing, absolving, +or giving the sacrament to Voltaire. Upon +this Voltaire writes and signs a formal demand on +the curate of Ferney to allow him to confess and +commune in the Catholic Church, in which he was +born, has lived, and wishes to die; offering to +make all necessary declarations, all requisite protestations, +in public or private, submitting himself +absolutely to all the rules of the Church, for the +edification of Catholics and Protestants. All this +was a mere piece of mystification and fun. He +pretended to be too sick to go to the church, and +made a Capuchin come and administer the eucharist +to him in bed; Voltaire saying, "Having my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span> +God in my mouth, I declare that I forgive all my +enemies." No wonder that with all his marvelous +ability and his long war upon the Catholic Church +he was unable to make any lasting impression upon +it. Talent is not enough to make revolutions of +opinion. No serious faith was ever destroyed by +a jest.</p> + +<p>If we return to Rousseau, and compare his influence +with that of Voltaire, we shall find that it +went far deeper. Voltaire was a man of immense +talent. Talent originates nothing, but formulates +into masterly expression what has come to it from +the age in which it lives. Not a new idea can be +found, we believe, in all Voltaire's innumerable +writings. But genius has a vision of ideal truth. +It is a prophet of the future. Rousseau, with his +many faults, weaknesses, follies, was a man of genius. +He was probably the most eloquent writer of +French prose who has ever appeared. He was a +man possessed by his ideas. He had none of the +adroitness, wit, ingenuity, of Voltaire. Instead +of amassing an enormous fortune, he supported +himself by copying music. Instead of being surrounded +by admirers and flatterers, he led a solitary +life, alone with his ideas. Instead of denying +the authorship of his works, and so giving an +excuse to the authorities to leave him quiet, he put +his name to his writings. He worked for his +bread with his hands, and in his "Emile" he recommended +that all boys should be taught some manual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span> +craft. Voltaire ridiculed the <em>gentleman carpenter</em> +of Rousseau; but before that generation +passed away, many a French nobleman had reason +to lament that he had not been taught to use +the saw and the plane.</p> + +<p>If Voltaire belonged to the eighteenth century, +and brought to a brilliant focus its scattered +rays, Rousseau belonged more to the nineteenth. +Amidst the <em>persiflage</em>, the mockery, the light and +easy philosophy, of his day, he stood, "among +them, but not of them, in a crowd of thoughts +which were not their thoughts." This is the true +explanation of his weakness and strength, and of +the intense dislike felt for him by Voltaire and +the school of Voltaire. They belonged to their +time, Rousseau to a coming time.</p> + +<p>The eighteenth century, especially in France, +was one in which nature was at its minimum and +art at its maximum. All was art. But art separated +from nature becomes artificial, not to say +artful. Decorum was the law in morals; the +<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bienséances</i> and <em>convenances</em> ruled in society. +The stage was bound by conventional rules. Poetry +walked in silk attire, and made its toilette +with the elaborate dignity of the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">levée</i> of the +Grand Monarque. Against all this Rousseau led +the reaction—the reaction inevitable as destiny. +As art had been pushed to an extreme, so now +naturalism was carried to the opposite extreme. +Rousseau was the apostle of nature in all things.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> +Children were to be educated by the methods of +nature, not according to the routine of old custom. +Governments were to go back to their origin in +human nature; society was to be reorganized on +first principles. This voice crying in the wilderness +was like the trumpet of doom to the age, announcing +the age to come. It laid the axe at the +root of the tree. Its outcome was the French +Revolution, that rushing, mighty flood, which carried +away the throne, the aristocracy, the manners, +laws, and prejudices of the past.</p> + +<p>In his first great work, the work which startled +Europe, Rousseau recalled man to himself. He +said, "The true philosophy is to commune with +one's self,"—the greatest saying, thinks Henri +Martin, that had been pronounced in that century. +Rousseau condemned luxury, and uttered a prophetic +cry of woe over the tangled perplexities of +the time. "There is no longer a remedy, <em>unless +through some great revolution, almost as much to +be feared as the evil it would cure,—which it is +blamable to desire, impossible to foresee</em>."</p> + +<p>"<em>Man is naturally good</em>," says Rousseau. Before +the frightful words "mine" and "thine" +were invented, how could there have been, he +asks, any vices or crimes? He denounced all +slavery, all inequality, all forms of oppression. +His writings were full of exaggeration, but, says +the French historian, "no sooner had he opened +his lips than he restored earnestness to the world."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span> +The same writer, after speaking of the faults of +the "Nouvelle Héloïse," adds that nevertheless "a +multitude of the letters of his 'Julie' are masterpieces +of eloquence, passion, and profundity; and +the last portions are signalized by a moral purity, +a wisdom of views, and a religious elevation +altogether new in the France of the eighteenth century." +Concerning "Emile," he says, "It is the profoundest +study of human nature in our language; +it was an ark of safety, launched by Providence +on the waves of skepticism and materialism. If +Rousseau had been stricken out of the eighteenth +century, whither, we seriously ask, would the human +mind have drifted?"<a name="FNanchor_43" id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">43</a></p> + +<p>The "Social Contract" appeared in 1762. In +this work Rousseau swept away by his powerful +eloquence the arguments which placed sovereignty +elsewhere than in the hands of the people. This +fundamental idea was the seed corn which broke +from the earth in the first Revolution, and bears its +ripe fruit in republican France to-day. D'Alembert, +who disliked Rousseau, said of "Emile" +that "it placed him at the head of all writers." +The "Social Contract," illogical and unsound in +many things, yet tore down the whole framework +of despotism. Van Laun, a more recent historian, +tells us that Rousseau was a man of the +people, who knew all their wants; that every vice +he attacked was one that they saw really present<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> +in their midst; that he "opened the flood-gates of +suppressed desires, which gushed forth, overwhelming +a whole artificial world." Villemain +writes that the words of Rousseau, "descending +like a flame of fire, moved the souls of his contemporaries;" +and that "his books glow with an +eloquence which can never pass away." Morley, +to whom Rousseau is essentially antipathic, says of +the "Social Contract" that its first words, "Man +is born free, but is everywhere in chains," thrilled +two continents,—that it was the gospel of the +Jacobins; and the action of the convention in +1794 can be explained only by the influence of +Rousseau. He taught France to believe in a government +of the people, by the people, and for the +people. Locke had already taught this doctrine +in England, where it produced no such violent +outbreak, because it encountered no such glaring +abuses.</p> + +<p>Such is the striking contrast between these two +greatest writers in modern French literature. It +is singular to observe their instinctive antagonism +in every point of belief and character. The merits +of one are precisely opposite to those of the other: +their faults are equally opposed.</p> + +<p>The events of Voltaire's life have been so often +told that Mr. Parton has not been able to add +much to our knowledge of his biography. He was +born in 1694 and died in 1778, at the age of +eighty-four, though at his birth he was so feeble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> +that those who believe that the world's progress +depends on the survival of the fittest would have +thought him not fit to be brought up. This was +also the case with Goethe and Walter Scott. His +father was a notary, and the name Arouet had +that of Voltaire added to it, it being a name in his +mother's family. This affix was adopted by the +lad when in the Bastille, at the age of twenty-four. +As a duck takes to water, so Voltaire took to his +pen. In his twelfth year he wrote verses addressed +to the Dauphin, which so pleased the +famous Ninon de l'Enclos, then in her ninetieth +year, that she left the boy a legacy of two thousand +francs. He went to a Jesuits' school, and +always retained a certain liking for the Jesuits. +His father wished to make him a notary, but he +would "pen a stanza when he should engross;" +and the usual struggles between the paternal purpose +and the filial instinct ended, as usual, in the +triumph of the latter. He led a wild career for a +time, in the society of dissipated abbès, debauched +noblemen, and women to whom pleasure was the +only object. Suspected of having written a lampoon +on the death of Louis XIV., he was sent to +the Bastille, and came forth not only with a new +name, but with literature as his aim for the rest of +his life. His first play appeared on the stage in +1718, and from that time he continued to write +till his death. He traveled from the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">château</i> of +one nobleman to another, pouring out his satires<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> +and sarcasms through the press; threatened by +the angry rulers and priests who governed France, +but always escaping by some adroit manœuvre. +In England he became a deist and a mathematician. +His views of Christ and Christianity were +summed up in a quatrain which may be thus +translated. Speaking of Jesus, he <span class="locked">says,—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"His actions are holy, his ethics divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into hearts which are wounded he pours oil and wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if, through imposture, those truths are received,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It still is a blessing to be thus deceived."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">He lived many years at Cirey with the Marchioness +of Châtelet; the marquis, her husband, accepting +the curious relation without any objection. +Then followed the still stranger episode of his +residence with Frederic the Great, their love quarrels +and reconciliations. After this friendship +came to an end, Voltaire went to live near Geneva +in Switzerland, but soon bought another estate +just out of Switzerland, in France, and a third a +short distance away, in the territory of another +power. Thus, if threatened in one state, he could +easily pass into another. Here he lived and +worked till the close of his life, an untiring writer. +He was a man of infinite wit, kind-hearted, with +little malignity of any sort, wishing in the main +to do good. His violent attacks upon Christianity +may be explained by the fact of the corruptions of +the Church which were around him. The Church +of France in that day, in its higher circles, was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> +persecuting Church, yet without faith: greedy for +wealth, living in luxury, careless of the poor, and +well deserving the attacks of Voltaire. That he +could not look deeper and see the need of religious +institutions of a better sort was his misfortune.</p> + +<p>This work is a storehouse of facts for the history +of Voltaire and his time. We do not think it will +materially alter the judgment pronounced on him +by such critics as Carlyle, Morley, and the majority +of French writers in our day. Voltaire was a shining +light in his age, but that age has gone by, and +can never return.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="RALPH WALDO EMERSON"><a id="EMERSON">RALPH WALDO EMERSON</a><a name="FNanchor_44" id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">44</a></h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Matt.</span> vi. 23.—<em>If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of +light.</em></p> + +<p class="p2">It is natural and fit that many pulpits to-day +should take for their theme the character and influence +of the great thinker and poet who has just +left us; for every such soul is a new revelation of +God's truth and love. Each opens the gateway between +our lower world of earthly care and earthly +pleasure into a higher heavenly world of spirit. +Such men lift our lives to a higher plane, and convince +us that we, also, belong to God, to eternity, +to heaven. And few, in our day, have been such +mediators of heavenly things to mankind as Ralph +Waldo Emerson.</p> + +<p>Last Sunday afternoon, when the town of Concord +was mourning through all its streets for the +loss of its beloved and revered citizen; when the +humblest cottage had on its door the badge of sorrow; +when great numbers came from abroad to +testify their affection and respect, that which impressed +me the most was the inevitable response +of the human heart to whatever is true and good. +Cynics may tell us that men are duped by charlatans,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span> +led by selfish demagogues, incapable of knowing +honor and truth when set before them; that +they always stone their prophets and crucify their +saviors; that they have eyes, and do not see; ears, +and never hear. This is all true for a time; but +inevitably, by a law as sure as that which governs +the movements of the planets, the souls of men +turn at last toward what is true, generous, and +noble. The prophets and teachers of the race may +be stoned by one generation, but their monuments +are raised by the next. They are misunderstood +and misrepresented to-day, but to-morrow they become +the accredited leaders of their time. Jesus, +who knew well that he would be rejected and murdered +by a people blind and deaf to his truth, also +knew that this truth would sooner or later break +down all opposition, and make him master and +king of the world. "I, if I be lifted up, will draw +all men unto me."</p> + +<p>Last Sunday afternoon, as the grateful procession +followed their teacher to his grave in the Concord +cemetery, the harshness of our spring seemed +to relent, and Nature became tender toward him +who had loved her so well. I thought of his words, +"The visible heavens and earth sympathized with +Jesus." The town where "the embattled farmers +stood;" where the musket was discharged which +opened the War of the Revolution—the gun of +which Lafayette said, "It was the alarm-gun of the +world;" the town of Hawthorne's "Old Manse,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> +and of his grave, now that Emerson also sleeps in +its quiet valley, has received an added glory. It +has become one of the "Meccas of the mind."</p> + +<p>Let me describe the mental and spiritual condition +of New England when Emerson appeared. +Calvinism, with its rigorous dogmatism, was slowly +dying, and had been succeeded by a calm and somewhat +formal rationalism. Locke was still the master +in the realm of thought; Addison and Blair in +literary expression. In poetry, the school of Pope +was engaged in conflict with that of Byron and his +contemporaries. Wordsworth had led the way to +a deeper view of nature; but Wordsworth could +scarcely be called a popular writer. In theology a +certain literalism prevailed, and the doctrines of +Christianity were inferred from counting and weighing +texts on either side. Not the higher reason, +with its intuition of eternal ideas, but the analytic +understanding, with its logical methods, was considered +to be the ruler in the world of thought. +There was more of culture than of intellectual life, +more of good habits than of moral enthusiasm. +Religion had become very much of an external +institution. Christianity consisted in holding rational +or orthodox opinions, going regularly to +church, and listening every Sunday to a certain +number of prayers, hymns, and sermons. These +sermons, with some striking exceptions, were rather +tame and mechanical. In Boston, it is true, Buckminster +had appeared,—that soul of flame which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> +soon wore to decay its weak body. The consummate +orator Edward Everett had followed him in +Brattle Square pulpit. Above all, Channing had +looked, with a new spiritual insight, into the truths +of religion and morality. But still the mechanical +treatment prevailed in a majority of the churches +of New England, and was considered, on the whole, +to be the wisest and safest method. There was an +unwritten creed of morals, literature, and social +thought to which all were expected to conform. +There was little originality and much repetition. +On all subjects there were certain formulas which +it was considered proper to repeat. "Thou art a +blessed fellow," says one of Shakespeare's characters, +"to think as other people think. Not a man's +thought in the world keeps the roadway better than +thine." The thought of New England kept the +roadway. Of course, at all times a large part of +the belief of the community is derived from memory, +custom, and imitation; but in those days, if +I remember them aright, it was regarded as a kind +of duty to think as every one else thought; a sort +of delinquency, or weakness, to differ from the majority.</p> + +<p>If the movements of thought are now much +more independent and spontaneous; if to-day traditions +have lost their despotic power; if even +those who hold an orthodox creed are able to treat +it as a dead letter, respectable for its past uses, +but by no means binding on us now, this is largely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> +owing to the manly position taken by Emerson. +And yet, let it be observed, this influence was not +exercised by attacking old opinions, by argument, +by denial, by criticism. Theodore Parker did all +this, but his influence on thought has been far less +than that of Emerson. Parker was a hero who +snuffed the battle afar off, and flung himself, +sword in hand, into the thick of the conflict. But, +much as we love and reverence his honesty, his +immense activity, his devotion to truth and right, +we must admit to-day, standing by these two +friendly graves, that the power of Emerson to +soften the rigidity of time-hardened belief was far +the greater. It is the old fable of the storm and +sun. The violent attacks of the tempest only +made the traveler cling more closely to his cloak; +the genial heat of the sun compelled him to throw +it aside. In all Emerson's writings there is +scarcely any argument. He attacks no man's belief; +he simply states his own. His method is +always positive, constructive. He opens the windows +and lets in more light. He is no man's +opponent; the enemy of no one. He states what +he sees, and that which he does not see he passes +by. He was often attacked, but never replied. +His answer was to go forward, and say something +else. He did not care for what he called the +"bugbear consistency." If to-day he said what +seemed like Pantheism, and to-morrow he saw +some truth which seemed to reveal a divine personality,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span> +a supreme will, he uttered the last, as he +had declared the first, always faithful to the light +within. He left it to the spirit of truth to reconcile +such apparent contradictions. He was like +his own humble-bee—</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Seeing only what is fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sipping only what is sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dost mock at fate and care,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leave the chaff and take the wheat."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>By this method of positive statement he not +only saved the time usually wasted in argument, +attack, reply, rejoinder, but he gave us the substance +of Truth, instead of its form. Logic and +metaphysic reveal no truths; they merely arrange +in order what the higher faculties of the mind +have made known. Hence the speedy oblivion +which descends on polemics of all sorts. The +great theological debaters, where are they? The +books of Horsley and McGee are buried in +the same grave with those of Belsham and +Priestley, their old opponents. The bitter attacks +on Christianity by Voltaire and Paine are inurned +in the same dark and forgotten vaults with the +equally bitter defenses of Christianity by its +numerous champions. Argument may often be +necessary, but no truth is slain by argument; no +error can be kept alive by it. Emerson is an eminent +example of a man who never replied to attacks, +but went on his way, and saw at last all +opposition hushed, all hostility at an end. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> +devoted his powers to giving to his readers his +insights, knowing that these alone feed the soul. +Thus men came to him to be fed. His sheep +heard his voice. Those who felt themselves better +for his instruction followed him. He collected +around him thus an ever-increasing band of disciples, +until in England, in Germany, in all lands +where men read and think, he is looked up to as a +master. Many of these disciples were persons of +rare gifts and powers, like Margaret Fuller, Theodore +Parker, George Ripley, Hawthorne. Many +others were unknown to fame, yet deeply sensible +of the blessings they had received from their prophet +and seer of the nineteenth century. For this +was his office. He was a man who saw. He had +the vision and the faculty divine. He sat near +the fountain-head, and tasted the waters of Helicon +in their source.</p> + +<p>His first little book, a duodecimo of less than a +hundred pages, called "Nature," published in +1836, indicates all these qualities. It begins +<span class="locked">thus:—</span></p> + +<p>"Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres +of the fathers. It writes biographies, histories, +criticisms. The foregoing generations beheld +God and Nature face to face; we, through +their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an +original relation to the universe? Why should +not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight, +and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span> +to us, and not the history of theirs?... The sun +shines to-day also.... Undoubtedly we have no +questions to ask which are unanswerable."</p> + +<p>This was his first doctrine, that of self-reliance. +He taught that God had given to every man the +power to see with his own eyes, think with his own +mind, believe what seemed to him true, plant himself +on his instincts, and, as he says, "call a pop-gun +a pop-gun, though the ancient and honorable +of the earth declare it to be the crack of doom." +This was manly and wholesome doctrine. It +might, no doubt, be abused, and lead some persons +to think they were men of original genius when +they were only eccentric. It may have led others +to attack all institutions and traditions, as though, +if a thing were old, it was necessarily false. But +Emerson himself was the best antidote to such +extravagance. To a youth who brought to him a +manuscript confuting Plato he replied, "When +you attack the king you ought to be sure to kill +him." But his protest against the prevailing conventionalism +was healthy, and his call on all "to +be themselves" was inspiring.</p> + +<p>The same doctrine is taught in the introductory +remarks of the editors of the "Dial." They say +they have obeyed with joy the strong current of +thought which has led many sincere persons to +reprobate that rigor of conventions which is turning +them to stone, which renounces hope and only +looks backward, which suspects improvement, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> +holds nothing so much in horror as the dreams of +youth. This work, the "Dial," made a great +impression, out of all proportion to its small circulation. +By the elders it was cordially declared +to be unintelligible mysticism, and so, no doubt, +much of it was. Those inside, its own friends, +often made as much fun of it as those outside. +Yet it opened the door for many new and noble +thoughts, and was a wild bugle-note, a reveillé, +calling on all generous hearts to look toward the +coming day.</p> + +<p>Here is an extract from one of Emerson's letters +from Europe as early as March, 1833. It is dated +<span class="locked">Naples:—</span></p> + +<p>"And what if it be Naples! It is only the +same world of cakes and ale, of man, and truth, +and folly. I will not be imposed upon by a name. +It is so easy to be overawed by names that it is +hard to keep one's judgment upright, and be +pleased only after your own way. Baiæ and Pausilippo +sound so big that we are ready to surrender +at discretion, and not stickle for our private +opinion against what seems the human race. But +here's for the plain old Adam, the simple, genuine +self against the whole world."</p> + +<p>Again he says: "Nothing so fatal to genius as +genius. Mr. Taylor, author of 'Van Artevelde,' +is a man of great intellect, but by study of Shakespeare +is forced to reproduce Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>Thus the first great lesson taught by Mr. Emerson<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span> +was "self-reliance." And the second was +like it, though apparently opposed to it, "God-reliance." +Not really opposed to it, for it meant +this: God is near to your mind and heart, as +he was to the mind and heart of the prophets +and inspired men of the past. God is ready to +inspire you also if you will trust in him. In the +little book called "Nature" he <span class="locked">says:—</span></p> + +<p>"The highest is present to the soul of man; the +dread universal essence, which is not wisdom, or +love, or power, or beauty, but all in one, and each +entirely, is that for which all things exist, and by +which they are. Believe that throughout nature +spirit is present; that it is one, that it does not +act upon us from without, but through ourselves.... +As a plant on the earth, so man rests on the +bosom of God, nourished by unfailing fountains, +and drawing at his need inexhaustible power."</p> + +<p>And so in his poem called "The Problem" he +teaches that all religions are from God; that all +the prophets and sibyls and lofty souls that have +sung psalms, written scripture, and built the temples +and cathedrals of men, were inspired by a +spirit above their own. He puts aside the shallow +explanation that any of the great religions ever +came from <span class="locked">priestcraft:—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"Out from the heart of Nature rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The burdens of the Bible old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The litanies of nations came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the volcano's tongue of flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up from the burning core below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The canticles of love and woe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0q">"The word unto the prophet spoken<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was writ on tables yet unbroken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The word by seers or sibyls told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In groves of oak or fanes of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still floats upon the moving wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still whispers to the willing mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One accent of the Holy Ghost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heedless world hath never lost."<br /></span> +</div> +</div></div> + +<p>In all that Emerson says of nature he is equally +devout. He sees God in it all. It is to him full +of a divine charm. "In the woods," he says, "is +perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God +a decorum and sanctity reigns, and we return to +reason and faith." "The currents of the Universal +Being circulate through me. I am part and +particle of God." For saying such things as these +he was accused of Pantheism. And he was a Pantheist; +yet only as Paul was a Pantheist when he +said, "In Him we live and move and have our +being;" "From whom and through whom are all +things;" "The fullness of him who filleth all in +all." Emerson was, in his view of nature, at one +with Wordsworth, who <span class="locked">said:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i6q">"The clouds were touched,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in their silent faces he could read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unutterable love. Sensation, soul, and form<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All melted into him; they swallowed up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His animal being; in them did he live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by them did he live; they were his life.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In such high hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of visitation from the living God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Emerson has thus been to our day the prophet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span> +of God in the soul, in nature, in life. He has +stood for spirit against matter. Darwin, his great +peer, the serene master in the school of science, +was like him in this,—that he also said what he +saw and no more. He also taught what God +showed to him in the outward world of sense, as +Emerson what God showed in the inward world of +spirit. Amid the stormy disputes of their time, +each of these men went his own way, his eye single +and his whole body full of light. The work of +Darwin was the easier, for he floated with the +current of the time, which sets at present so strongly +toward the study of things seen and temporal. +But the work of Emerson was more noble, for he +stands for things unseen and eternal,—for a larger +religion, a higher faith, a nobler worship. This +strong and tender soul has done its work and gone +on its way. But he will always fill a niche of the +universal Church as a New England prophet. He +had the purity of the New England air in his moral +nature, a touch of the shrewd Yankee wit in his +speech, and the long inheritance of ancestral faith +incarnate and consolidated in blood and brain. +But to this were added qualities which were derived +from some far-off realm of human life: an +Oriental cast of thought, a touch of mediæval +mysticism, and a vocabulary brought from books +unknown to our New England literature. No +commonplaces of language are to be found in his +writings, and though he read the older writers, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span> +does not imitate them. He, also, like his humble-bee, +has gathered contributions from remotest fields, +and enriched our language with a new and picturesque +speech all his own.</p> + +<p>Let us, then, be grateful for this best of God's +gifts,—another soul sent to us filled with divine +light. Thus we learn anew how full are nature +and life of <span class="locked">God:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Ever fresh the broad creation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A divine improvisation;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the heart of God proceeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A single will, a million deeds."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>One word concerning Mr. Emerson's relation to +Christ and to Christianity. The distinction which +he made between Jesus and other teachers was, no +doubt, one of degree and not one of kind. He put +no great gulf of supernatural powers, origin, or office +between Christ and the ethnic prophets. But +his reverence for Jesus was profound and tender. +Nor did he object to the word "Christian" or to +the Christian Church. In recent years, at least, he +not unfrequently attended the services of the Unitarian +Church in his town, and I have met him at +Unitarian conventions, a benign and revered presence.</p> + +<p>In the cemetery at Bonn, on the Rhine, is the +tomb of Niebuhr, the historian, a man of somewhat +like type, as I judge, to our Emerson. At +least, some texts on his monument would be admirably +appropriate for any stone which may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span> +placed over the remains of the American prophet +and poet in the sweet valley of tombs in Concord.</p> + +<p>One of these texts was from Sirach xlvii. 14, 17:</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"How wise wast thou in thy youth, and as a flood filled with understanding!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul covered the whole earth, and thou filledst it with dark parables.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy name went far unto the islands, and for thy peace thou wast beloved.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The countries marvelled at thee for thy songs and proverbs and parables and interpretations."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">And equally appropriate would be this Horatian +line, also on Niebuhr's <span class="locked">monument:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus tam cari capitis."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>From a lifelong friend of Emerson I have just +received a letter containing these words, which, +better than most descriptions, give the character of +his <span class="locked">soul:—</span></p> + +<p>"And so the white wings have spread, and the +great soul has left us.</p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0">'’Tis death is dead; not he.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">He had no vanity, no selfishness; no greed, no +hate; none of the weights that drag on common +mortals. His life was an illumination; a large, +fair light; the Pharos of New England, as in other +days our dear brother called him. And this light +shone further and wider the longer it burned."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="HARRIET MARTINEAU"><a id="HARRIET">HARRIET MARTINEAU</a><a name="FNanchor_45" id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">45</a></h2> + +<p>The whole <span class="locked">work<a name="FNanchor_46" id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">46</a></span> is very interesting. How could +it be otherwise, in giving the history of so remarkable +a life? The amount of literary work which +Miss Martineau performed is amazing. She began +to write for the press when she was nineteen, and +continued until she could no longer hold her pen. +The pen was her sword, which she wielded with a +warrior's joy, in the conflict of truth with error, of +right with wrong. She wrote many books; but +her articles in reviews and newspapers were innumerable. +We find no attempt in either part of this +biography to give a complete list of her writings. +Perhaps it would be impossible. She never seems +to have thought of keeping such a record herself, +any more than a hero records the number of the +blows he strikes, in battle. No sooner had she dismissed +one task than another came; and sometimes +several were going on together. Like other voluminous +writers, she enjoyed the exercise of her productive +powers; and, as she somewhere tells us, her +happiest hours were those in which she was seated +at her desk with her pen.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span></p> +<p>Her principal works cover a large range of +thought and study. One of her first books, "The +Traditions of Palestine," she continued to regard +long after with more affection than any other of +her writings, except "Eastern Life." But her +authorship began when she was nineteen, in an article +contributed to a Unitarian monthly. Afterwards +she obtained three separate prizes offered by +the Central Unitarian Association for three essays +on different topics. About the same time she wrote +"Five Years of Youth," a tale which she never +looked at afterward. But her first great step in +authorship, and that which at once made her a +power in politics and in literature, was taken when +she commenced her series of tales on "Political +Economy." She began, however, to write these +stories, not knowing that she was treating questions +of Political Economy, "the very name of which," +she says, "was then either unknown to me, or conveyed +no meaning." She was then about twenty-five +years old. She had the usual difficulties with +various publishers which unknown authors are sure +to experience, and these tales, which became so +popular, were rejected by one firm after another. +One of them was refused by the Society for the +Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, as being too dull. +The president of that Society, Lord Brougham, +afterward vented his rage on the sub-committee +which rejected the offered story, and so had permitted +their Society, "instituted for that very purpose,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> +to be driven out of the field by a little deaf +woman at Norwich." At last a publisher was +found who agreed to take the books on very unsatisfactory +terms. As soon as the first number +appeared, the success of the series was established. +A second edition of five thousand copies was immediately +called for,—the entire periodical press +came out in favor of the tales,—and from that +hour Miss Martineau had only to choose what to +write, sure that it would at once find a publisher.</p> + +<p>She was at this time thirty years old. She was +already deaf, her health poor; but she then began +a career of intellectual labor seldom equaled by +the strongest man through the longest life. She +began to write every morning after breakfast; and, +unless when traveling, seldom passed a morning +during the rest of her life without writing,—working +from eight o'clock until two. Her method +was, after selecting her subject, to procure all the +standard works upon it, and study them. She then +proceeded to make the plan of her work, and to +draw the outline of her story. If the scene was +laid abroad, she procured books of travels and +topography. Then she drew up the contents of +each chapter in detail, and, after this preliminary +labor, the story was written easily and with joy.</p> + +<p>Of these stories she wrote thirty-four in two +years and a half. She was then thirty-two. She +received £2,000 for the whole series,—a sufficiently +small compensation,—but she established<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span> +her position and her fame. Her principal books published +afterward were her two works on America, +the novels "Deerbrook" and "The Hour and the +Man;" nine volumes of tales on the Forest and +Game Laws; four stories in the "Playfellow;" +"Life in the Sick-Room;" "Letters on Mesmerism;" +"Eastern Life, Past and Present;" "History +of England during the Thirty Years' Peace;" +"Letters on the Laws of Man's Social Nature and +Development;" "Translation and Condensation +of Comte's Positive Philosophy;" besides many +smaller works, making fifty-two titles in Allibone. +In addition to this, she wrote many articles in reviews +and magazines; and Mrs. Chapman mentions +that she sent to a single London journal, the +"Daily News," sixteen hundred articles, at the rate +sometimes of six a week. Surely Harriet Martineau +was one who worked faithfully while her day +endured.</p> + +<p>But, if we would do her justice, we must consider +also the motive and spirit in which she +worked. Each thing she did had for its purpose +nothing merely personal, but some good to mankind. +Though there was nothing in her character +of the sentimentalism of philanthropy, she was +filled with the spirit of philanthropy. A born reformer, +she inherited from her Huguenot and her +Unitarian ancestors the love of truth and the hatred +of error, with the courage which was ready to avow +her opinions, however unpopular. Thus, her work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span> +was warfare, and every article or book which she +printed was a blow delivered against some flagrant +wrong, or what she believed such,—in defense of +some struggling truth, or something supposed to be +truth. She might be mistaken; but her purposes +through life were, in the main, noble, generous, and +good.</p> + +<p>And there can be no question of her ability, +moral and intellectual. No commonplace mind +could have overcome such obstacles and achieved +such results. Apparently she had no very high +opinion of her own intellectual powers. She denies +that she possesses genius; but she asserts her own +power. She criticises "Deerbrook" with some +severity. And, in fact, Harriet Martineau's mind +is analytic rather than creative; it is strong rather +than subtle; and, if it possesses imagination, it is +of rather a prosaic kind. Her intellect is of a +curiously masculine order; no other female writer +was ever less feminine. With all her broad humanity +she has little sympathy for individuals. A +large majority of those whom she mentions in her +memoirs she treats with a certain contempt.</p> + +<p>Her early life seems to have been very sad. We +are again and again told how she was misunderstood +and maltreated in her own home. Her health +was bad until she was thirty; partly owing, as she +supposed, to ill-treatment. She needed affection, +and was treated with sternness. Justice she did +not receive, nor kindness, and her heart was soured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> +and her temper spoiled, so she tells us, by this mismanagement. +As she does not specify, or give us +the details of this ill-treatment, the story is useless +as a warning; and we hardly see the reason for +thus publishing the wrongs of her childhood. As +children may be sometimes unjust to parents, no +less than parents to children, the facts and the +moral are both left uncertain. And, on the whole, +her chief reason for telling the story appears to be +the mental necessity she was under of judging and +sentencing those from whom she supposes herself +to have received ill-treatment in any part of her +life.</p> + +<p>This is indeed the most painful feature of the +work before us. Knowing the essentially generous +and just spirit of Harriet Martineau, it is strange +to see how carefully she has loaded this piece of +artillery with explosive and lacerating missiles, +to be discharged after her death among those with +whom she had mingled in social intercourse or literary +labors. Some against whom she launches +her sarcasms are still living; some are dead, but +have left friends behind, to be wounded by her +caustic judgments. Is it that her deficiency in a +woman's sensibility, or the absence of a poetic +imagination, prevented her from realizing the suffering +she would inflict? Or is it the habit of mind +from which those are apt to suffer who devote themselves +to the reform of abuses? As each kind of +manual occupation exposes the workman to some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span> +special disease,—as those who dig canals suffer +from malaria, and file-grinders from maladies of +the lungs,—so it seems that each moral occupation +has its appropriate moral danger. Clergymen are +apt to be dogmatic or sectarian; lawyers become +sharp and sophistical; musicians and artists are +irritable; and the danger of a reformer is of becoming +a censorious critic of those who cannot accept +his methods, or who will not join his party. +That Harriet Martineau did not escape this risk +will presently appear.</p> + +<p>While writing her politico-economical stories she +moved to London, and there exchanged the quiet +seclusion of her Norwich life for social triumphs of +the first order, and intercourse with every kind of +celebrity. All had read her books, from Victoria, +who was then a little girl perusing them with her +governess, to foreign kings and savants of the highest +distinction. So this young author—for she was +only thirty—was received at once into the most +brilliant circles of London society. But it does not +appear that she lost a single particle of her dignity +or self-possession. Among the great she neither +asserted herself too much nor showed too much deference. +Vanity was not her foible; and her head +was too solidly set upon her shoulders to be turned +by such successes. She enjoyed the society of these +people of superior refinement, rank, and culture, +but did not come to depend upon it; and in all this +Harriet Martineau sinned not in her spirit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> +But why, in writing about these people long +afterward, should she have thought it necessary to +produce such sharp and absolute sentences on each +and all? Into this judgment-hall of Osiris-Martineau, +every one whom she has ever known is called +up to receive his final doom. The poor Unitarian +ministers, who had taught the child as they best +could, are dismissed with contemptuous severity. +This religious instruction had certainly done her +some good. Religion, she admits, was her best +resource till she wrought her way to something +better. Ann Turner, daughter of the Unitarian +minister, gave her piety a practical turn, and when +afraid of every one she saw, she was not at all +afraid of God; and, on the whole, she says religion +was a great comfort and pleasure to her. Nevertheless, +she is astonished that Unitarians should +believe that they are giving their children a Christian +education. She accuses these teachers of her +childhood of altering the Scripture to suit their +own notions; being apparently ignorant that most +of the interpolations or mistranslations of which +they complained have since been conceded as such +by the best Orthodox critics. But she does not +hesitate to give her opinion of all her old acquaintances +in the frankest manner, and for the most +part it is unfavorable. Mrs. Opie and Mrs. John +Taylor are among the "mere pedants." William +Taylor, from want of truth and conviction, talked +blasphemy. She speaks with contempt of a physician<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span> +who politely urged her to come and dine with +him, because he had neglected her until she became +famous. Lord Brougham was "vain and selfish, +low in morals, and unrestrained in temper." Lord +Campbell was "flattering to an insulting degree;" +Archbishop Whately, "odd and overbearing," +"sometimes rude and tiresome," and "singularly +overrated;" Stanley, Bishop of Norwich, "timid," +"sensitive," "heedless," "without courage or dignity." +Macaulay "talked nonsense" about the +copyright bill, and "set at naught every principle +of justice in regard to authors' earnings." Macaulay's +opposition to that bill was based on such +grounds of perfect justice that he defeated it single-handed. +But Harriet Martineau decided then +and there that Macaulay was a failure, and that +"he wanted heart," and that he "never has +achieved any complete success." The poet Campbell +had "a morbid craving for praise." As to +women, Lady Morgan, Lady Davy, Mrs. Jameson, +Mrs. Austin, "may make women blush and men +be insolent" with their "gross and palpable vanities." +Landseer was a toady to great people. +Morpeth had "evident weaknesses." Sir Charles +Bell showed his ignorance by relying on the argument +for Design. The resources of Eastlake were +very <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bornés</i>. John Sterling "rudely ignored me." +Lady Mary Shepherd was "a pedant." Coleridge, +she asserts, will only be remembered as a warning; +though twenty years ago she, Miss Martineau,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span> +"regarded him as a poet." Godwin was "timid." +Basil Montagu was "cowardly;" and Lord Monteagle +"agreeable enough to those who were not +particular about sincerity." Urquhart had "insane +egotism and ferocious discontent." The +Howitts made "an unintelligible claim to my +friendship," their "tempers are turbulent and +unreasonable." It may be some explanation of +this unintelligible claim that it was heard through +her trumpet. Fredrika Bremer is accused of habits +of "flattery" and "a want of common sense." +Miss Mitford is praised, but then accused of a +"habit of flattery," and blamed for her "disparagement +of others." And it is Miss Martineau +who brings this charge! She also tells us that +Miss Bremer "proposes to reform the world by a +floating religiosity," whatever that may be. But +perhaps her severest sentence is pronounced on the +Kembles, who are accused of "incurable vulgarity" +and "unreality." In this case, as in others, Miss +Martineau pronounces this public censure on those +whom she had learned to know in the intimacy of +private friendship and personal confidence. She +thus violates the rules rather ostentatiously laid +down in her Introduction. For she claims there +that she practices self-denial in interdicting the +publication of her <span class="locked">letters,<a name="FNanchor_47" id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">47</a></span> and gives her reasons<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> +thus: "Epistolary conversation is written speech; +and the <em>onus</em> rests with those who publish it to +show why the laws of honor, which are uncontested +in regard to conversation, may be violated when +the conversation is written instead of spoken." +Most of her sharp judgments above quoted are +pronounced on those whom she learned to know +in the private intercourse of society. Sometimes +she recites the substance of what she heard (or +supposed that she heard; for she used an ear-tube +when she first went to live in London). Thus she +tells about a conversation with Wordsworth, and +reports his complaints of Jeffrey and other reviewers, +and quotes him as saying about one of his +own poems, that it was "a chain of very <em>valooable</em> +thoughts." "You see, it does not best fulfill the +conditions of poetry; but it is" (solemnly) "a +chain of extremely valooable thoughts." She then +proceeds to pronounce her sentence on Wordsworth +as she did on Coleridge. She felt at once, she +says, in Wordsworth's works, "the absence of +sound, accurate, weighty thought, and of genuine +poetic inspiration." She also informs us that "the +very basis of philosophy is absent in him," and +that it is only necessary "to open Shelley, Tennyson, +or even poor Keats ... to feel that, with all +their truth and all their charm, few of Wordsworth's +pieces are poems." "<em>Even poor Keats!</em>" +This is her <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">de haut en bas</i> style of criticism +on Wordsworth, one of whose poems is generally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span> +accepted as the finest written in the English language +during the last hundred years. And this is +her way of respecting "the code of honor" in regard +to private conversation!</p> + +<p>In 1834, at the age of thirty-two, Harriet Martineau +sailed for the United States, where she remained +two years. She went for rest; but the +quantity of work done in those two years would +have been enough to fill five or six years of any +common life. At this point she began a new career; +forming new ties, engaging in new duties, +studying new problems, and beginning a new activity +in another sphere of labor. The same great +qualities which she had hitherto displayed showed +themselves here again; accompanied with their +corresponding defects. Her wonderful power of +study enabled her to enter into the very midst of +the phenomena of American life; her noble generosity +induced her to throw herself heart, hand, and +mind into the greatest struggle then waging on the +face of the earth. The antislavery question, which +the great majority of people of culture despised +or disliked, took possession of her soul. She became +one of the party of Abolitionists, of which +Mr. Garrison was the chief, and lived to see that +party triumph in the downfall of slavery. She +took her share of the hatred or the scorn heaped +on that fiery body of zealous propagandists, and +was counted worthy of belonging to what she herself +called "the Martyr Age of the United States."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span> +Fortunately for herself, before she visited Boston, +and became acquainted with the Abolitionists, +she went to Washington, and traveled somewhat +extensively in the Southern States. At Washington +she saw many eminent Southern senators, who +cordially invited her to visit them at their homes. +In South Carolina she was welcomed or introduced +by Mr. Calhoun, Governor Hayne, and Colonel +Preston. Judge Porter took charge of her in +Louisiana. In Kentucky she was the guest of +Mrs. Irwin, Henry Clay's daughter and neighbor. +Without fully accepting Mrs. Chapman's somewhat +sweeping assertion that there was no eminent +statesman, man of science, politician, partisan, +philanthropist, jurist, professor, merchant, divine, +nor distinguished woman, in the whole land, who +did not pay her homage, there is no doubt that she +received the respect and good-will of many such. +She was deeply impressed, she says, on arriving in +the United States, with a society basking in one +bright sunshine of good-will. She thought the New +Englanders, perhaps, the best people in the world. +Many well-known names appear in these pages, as +soon becoming intimate acquaintances or friends; +among these were Judge Story, John G. Palfrey, +Stephen C. Phillips, the Gilmans of South +Carolina, Mr. and Mrs. Furness of Philadelphia, +and in Massachusetts the Sedgwicks, the Follens, +Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring, Mr. and Mrs. +Charles G. Loring, Dr. Channing, Mr. and Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span> +Henry Ware, Dr. Flint of Salem, and Ephraim +Peabody.</p> + +<p>When Miss Martineau had identified herself +with Mr. Garrison and his friends by taking part +in their meetings, those who had merely sought +her on account of her position and reputation naturally +fell away. But it may be doubted whether +she was in such danger of being mobbed or murdered +as she and her editor suppose. She seems +to think that Mr. Henry Ware did a very brave +deed in driving to Mr. Francis Jackson's house to +take her home from an antislavery meeting. She +speaks of the reign of terror which existed in Boston +at that time. No doubt she, and other Abolitionists, +had their share of abuse; but it is not +probable that any persons were, as she thought, +plotting against her life. She and her friends +were deterred from taking a proposed journey to +Cincinnati and Louisville by being informed that +it was intended to mob her in the first city and +to hang her in the second. Now, the writer of this +article was at that time residing in Louisville, and +though antislavery discussions and antislavery lectures +had taken place there about that period, and +though antislavery articles not unfrequently appeared +in the city journals, no objection or opposition +was made to all this by anybody in that place. +In fact, it was easier at that time to speak against +slavery in Louisville than in Boston. The leading +people in Kentucky of all parties were then openly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> +opposed to slavery, and declared their hope and +purpose of making Kentucky a free State. A year +later, Dr. Channing published his work on slavery, +which was denounced for its abolitionism by +the "Boston Statesman," and sharply criticised in +a pamphlet by the Massachusetts attorney-general. +But copious extracts from this work, especially of +the parts which exposed the sophisms of the defenders +of slavery, were published in a Louisville +magazine, and not the least objection was made +to it in that city. At a later period it might have +been different, though an antislavery paper was +published in Louisville as late as 1845, one of the +editors being a native Kentuckian.</p> + +<p>After her return from the United States she +published her two works, "Society in America," +and "Retrospect of Western Travel;" and then +wrote her first novel, "Deerbrook." The books +on America were perhaps the best then written by +any foreigner except De Tocqueville. They were +generous, honest, kind, and utterly frank,—they +were full of capital descriptions of American +scenery. She spoke the truth to us, and she +spoke it in love. The chief fault in these works +was her tone of dogmatism, and her <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">ex cathedrâ</i> +judgments; which, as we have before hinted, are +among the defects of her qualities.</p> + +<p>In 1838, when thirty-six years old, she was +taken with serious illness, which confined her to +her room for six years. She attributes this illness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> +to her anxiety about her aged aunt and mother. +Her mother, she tells us, was irritable on account +of Miss Martineau's fame and position in society; +in short, she was jealous of her daughter's success. +Miss Martineau was obliged to sit up late after +midnight to mend her own clothes, as she was not +allowed to have a maid or to hire a working-woman, +even at her own expense. How she could +have been prevented is difficult to see, especially as +she was the money-making member of the family. +It seems hardly worth while to give us this glimpse +into domestic difficulties. But, no doubt, she is +quite correct in adding, as another reason for her +illness, the toils which were breaking her down. +The strongest men could hardly bear such a strain +on the nervous system without giving way.</p> + +<p>And here comes in the important episode of Mr. +Atkinson, mesmerism, and the New Philosophy. +She believes that she was cured of a disease, pronounced +incurable by the regular physicians, by +mesmerism. By this she means the influence exerted +upon her by certain manipulations from +another person. And as long as we are confessedly +so ignorant of nervous diseases, there +seems no reason to question the facts to which +Miss Martineau testifies. She was, there is little +doubt, cured by these manipulations; what the +power was which wrought through them remains +to be ascertained.</p> + +<p>In regard to Mr. Atkinson and his philosophy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span> +accepted by her with such satisfaction, and which +henceforth became the master-light of all her seeing, +our allotted space will allow us only to speak +very briefly. The results of this new mental departure +could not but disturb and afflict many of +her friends, to whom faith in God, Christ, and +immortality was still dear. To Miss Martineau +herself, however, her disbelief in these seemed a +happy emancipation. She carried into the assertion +of her new and unpopular ideas the same +honesty and courage she had always shown, and +also the same superb dogmatism and contempt for +those who differed from her. Apparently it was +always to her an absolute impossibility to imagine +herself wrong when she had once come to a conclusion. +In theory she might conceive it possible +to be mistaken, but practically she felt herself +infallible. The following examples will show how +she speaks, throughout her biography, of those +who held the opinions she had rejected.</p> + +<p>Miss Martineau, being a Necessarian, says, +"All the best minds I know are Necessarians; all, +indeed, who are qualified to discuss the subject at +all." "The very smallest amount of science is +enough to enable any rational being to see that +the constitution and action of will are determined +by the influences beyond the control of the possessor +of the faculty." She adds, that for more than +thirty years she has seen how awful "are the evils +which arise from that monstrous remnant of old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span> +superstition,—the supposition of a self-determining +power, etc." Now, among those she had +intimately known were Dr. Channing and James +Martineau, neither of them believing in the doctrine +of Necessity.</p> + +<p>Speaking of Christianity, after she had rejected +it, she calls it "a monstrous superstition." Elsewhere +she speaks of "the Christian superstition of +the contemptible nature of the body;" says that +"Christians deprave their moral sense;" talks of +"the selfish complacencies of religion," and of +"the atmosphere of selfishness which is the very +life of Christian doctrine and of every other theological +scheme;" speaks of "the Christian mythology +as a superstition which fails to make happy, +fails to make good, fails to make wise, and has become +as great an obstacle in the way of progress +as the prior mythologies it took the place of." +"For three centuries it has been undermined, and +its overthrow completely decided." Thus easily +does she settle the question of Christianity.</p> + +<p>Miss Martineau ceased to believe in immortality; +and immediately all believers in immortality +became, to her mind, selfish or stupid, or both. +"I neither wish to live longer here," she says, +"nor to find life again elsewhere. It seems to me +simply absurd to expect it, and a mere act of +restricted human imagination and morality to conceive +of it." There is "a total absence of evidence +for a renewed life." "I myself utterly disbelieve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span> +in a future life." She would submit, +though reluctantly, to live again, if compelled to. +"If I find myself conscious after the lapse of life, +it will be all right, of course; but, as I said, the +supposition appears to me absurd."</p> + +<p>Under the instructions of Mr. Atkinson, Miss +Martineau ceased to believe in a personal God, or +any God but an unknown First Cause, identical +with the Universe. The argument for Design, on +which Mr. John Stuart Mill, for instance, lays +such stress, seemed to her "puerile and unphilosophical." +The God of Christians she calls an +"invisible idol." He "who does justice to his +own faculties" must give up "the personality of +the First Cause." She considered the religion in +her "Life in the Sick-Room" to have been "insincere;" +which we, who know the perfect honesty +of Harriet Martineau, must take the liberty to +deny. Though declaring herself to be no Atheist, +because she believes in an unknown and unknowable +First Cause, she regards philosophical Atheists +as the best people she had ever known, and +was delighted in finding herself unacquainted with +God, and so at peace.</p> + +<p>It is curious to read these "Letters on the Laws +of Man's Nature and Development," of which +Harriet Martineau and Mr. Atkinson are the joint +authors. The simple joy with which they declare +themselves the proud discoverers of this happy +land of the unknowable is almost touching. All<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> +that we know, say they, is matter or its manifestation. +"Mind is the product of the brain," and +"the brain is not, as even some phrenologists have +asserted, the instrument of the mind." The brain +is the source of consciousness, will, reason. Man +is "a creature of necessity." "It seems certain +that mind, or the conditions essential to mind, is +evolved from gray vesicular matter." "Nothing +in nature indicates a future life." "Knowledge +recognizes that nothing can be free, or by chance; +no, not even God,—God is the substance of +Law." Whereupon Miss Martineau inquires +whether Mr. Atkinson, in speaking of God, did +not merely use another name for Law. "We +know nothing beyond law, do we?" asks this +meek disciple, seeking for information. Mr. Atkinson +replies that we must assume some fundamental +principle "as a thing essential, though +unknown; and it is this which I wrongly enough +perhaps termed God." But if it is wrong to call +this principle God, and if they know nothing else +behind phenomena, why do they complain so bitterly +at being charged with Atheism? And directly +Mr. Atkinson asserts that "Philosophy +finds no God in nature; no personal being or +creator, nor sees the want of any." "A Creator +after the likeness of man" he affirms to be "an +impossibility." For, though he professes to know +<em>nothing</em> about God, he somehow contrives to know +that God is <em>not</em> what others believe him to be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span> +Eternal sleep after death he professes to be the +only hope of a wise man. The idea of free-will is +so absurd that it "would make a Democritus fall +on his back and roar with laughter." "Christianity +is neither reasonable nor moral." Miss +Martineau responds that "deep and sweet" is her +repose in the conviction that "there is no theory +of God, of an author of Nature, of an origin of the +Universe, which is not utterly repugnant to my +faculties; which is not (to my feelings) so irreverent +as to make me blush, so misleading as to +make me mourn." And thus do the apostle and +the disciple go on, triumphantly proclaiming their +own limitations to the end of the volume.</p> + +<p>And yet the effect of this book is by no means +wholly disagreeable. To be sure, in their constant +assertions of the "impossibility" of any belief but +their own being true, their honest narrowness may +often be a little amusing. They seem like two eyeless +fish in the recesses of the darkness of the Mammoth +Cave talking to each other of the absurdity +of believing in any sun or upper world. But they +are so honest, so sincere, so much in love with +Truth, and so free from any self-seeking, that we +find it easy to sympathize with their naïve sense of +discovery, as they go sounding on their dim and +perilous way. Only we cannot but think what a +disappointment it must be to Harriet Martineau +to find herself alive again in the other world. In +her case, as Mr. Wentworth Higginson acutely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span> +remarks, we are deprived of the pleasure of sympathizing +with her gladness at discovering her +mistake, since another life will be to her a disagreeable +as well as an unforeseen event.</p> + +<p>Nor is it extraordinary, to those who trace +Harriet Martineau's intellectual history, that she +should have fallen into these melancholy conclusions. +In her childhood and youth, most of the +Unitarians of England, followers of Priestley, +adopted his philosophy of materialism and necessity. +Priestley did not believe in a soul, but +trusted for a future life to the resurrection of the +body. He was also a firm believer in philosophical +necessity. An active and logical mind like +Miss Martineau's, destitute of the keenness and +profundity which belonged to that of her brother +James, might very naturally arrive at a disbelief +in anything but matter and its phenomena. From +ignorance of these facts, Mrs. Chapman expresses +surprise that the inconsistency of Harriet Martineau's +belief in necessity, with other parts of her +Unitarianism, "should not have struck herself, her +judges, or the denomination at large." It <em>would</em> +have been inconsistent with American Unitarianism, +but it was not foreign from the views of English +Unitarians at that time.</p> + +<p>The publication of these "Letters" naturally +caused pain to religious people, and especially to +those of them who had known and honored Miss +Martineau for her many past services in the cause<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> +of human freedom and progress. Many of these +were Unitarians and Unitarian ministers, who had +been long proud of her as a member of their denomination +and one of their most valued co-workers. +It seemed necessary for them to declare their +dissent from her new views, and this dissent was +expressed in an article in the "Prospective Review," +written by her own brother, James Martineau. +Mrs. Chapman now makes known, what has +hitherto been only a matter of conjecture, that this +review gave such serious offense to Miss Martineau +that she from that time refused to recognize +her brother or to have any further communication +with him. Mrs. Chapman, who seldom or never +finds her heroine in the wrong, justifies and approves +her conduct also here, quoting a passage +from the review in support of Miss Martineau's +conduct in treating her brother as one of "the +defamers of old times whom she must never again +meet." In this passage Mr. Martineau only expresses +his profound grief that his sister should sit +at the feet of such a master as Mr. Atkinson, and +lay down at his bidding her early faith in moral +obligation, in the living God, in the immortal +sanctities. He calls this "an inversion of the +natural order of nobleness," implying that Mr. +Atkinson ought to have sat at her feet instead; +and, turning to the review itself, we find this the +only passage in which a single word is said which +could be regarded as a censure on Miss Martineau.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> +But Mr. Atkinson is indeed handled with some +severity. His language is criticised, and his logic +is proved fallacious. Much the largest part of the +review is, however, devoted to a refutation of his +philosophy and doctrines. Now, as so large a part +of the "Letters" is pervaded with denunciations +of the bigotry which will not hear the other side of +a question, and filled with admiration of those who +prefer truth to the ties of kindred, friendship, and +old association, we should have thought that Miss +Martineau would rejoice in having a brother who +could say, "Amica Harriet, sed magis amica veritas." +Not at all. It was evident that he had said +nothing about herself at which she could take +offense; but in speaking against her new philosophy +and her new philosopher he had committed +the unpardonable sin. And Mrs. Chapman allows +herself to regard it as a natural inference that +this honest and manly review resulted from "masculine +terror, fraternal jealousy of superiority, with +a sectarian and provincial impulse to pull down +and crush a world-wide celebrity." She considers +it "incomprehensible in an advocate of free +thought" that he should express his thoughts +freely in opposition to a book which argued +against all possible knowledge of God and against +all faith in a future life. It is, however, only just +to Miss Martineau to say that she herself has +brought no such charges against her brother, but +left the matter in silence. We cannot but think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> +that it would have been better for Miss Martineau's +reputation if her biographer had followed +her example.</p> + +<p>But, though we must object to Mrs. Chapman's +views on this point, and on some others, we must +add that her part of the second volume is prepared +with much ability, and is evidently the result of +diligent and loyal friendship. Miss Martineau +could not have selected a more faithful friend to +whom to confide the history of her life. On two +subjects, however, we are obliged to dissent from +her statements. One is in regard to Dr. Channing, +whom she, for some unknown reason, systematically +disparages. He was a good man, Mrs. +Chapman admits, "but not in any sense a great +one. With benevolent intentions, he could not +greatly help the nineteenth century, for he knew +very little about it, or, indeed, of any other. He +had neither insight, courage, nor firmness. In his +own Church had sprung up a vigorous opposition +to slavery, which he innocently, in so far as ignorantly, +used the little strength he had to stay." +Certainly it is not necessary to defend the memory +of Dr. Channing against such a supercilious judgment +as this. But we might well ask why, if he is +not a great man, and did not help the nineteenth +century, his works should continue to be circulated +all over Europe? Why should such men in +France as Laboulaye and Rémusat occupy themselves +in translating and diffusing them? Why<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> +should Bunsen class him among the five prophets +of the Divine Consciousness in Human History,—speaking +of "his fearless speech," his "unfailing +good sense," and "his grandeur of soul, which +makes him a prophet of the Christianity of the +Future"? Bunsen calls him a Greek in his +manly nature, a Roman in his civic qualities, and +an apostle in his Christianity. And was that man +deficient in courage or firmness who never faltered +in the support of any opinions, however unpopular, +whether it was to defend Unitarianism in its +weak beginnings, to appear in Faneuil Hall as +the leader against the defenders of the Alton mob, +to head the petition for the pardon of Abner +Kneeland, and to lay on the altar of antislavery +the fame acquired by past labors? Is he to be +accused of repressing the antislavery movement +in his own church, when there is on record the +letter in which he advocated giving the use of the +church building to the society represented by Mrs. +Chapman herself; and when the men of influence +in his society refused it? Nor, in those days of +their unpopularity, did Mrs. Chapman and her +friends count Dr. Channing's aid so insignificant. +In her article on "The Martyr Age," Miss Martineau +describes the profound impression caused by +Dr. Channing's sudden appearance in the State +House to give his countenance and aid to Garrison +and the Abolitionists, in what, she says, was a +matter to them of life and death. And she adds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span> +"He was thenceforth considered by the world an +accession to their principles, though not to their +organized body."</p> + +<p>Nor do we quite understand Mrs. Chapman's +giving to Miss Martineau the credit of being the +cause of the petition for the pardon of Abner +Kneeland; as his conviction, and the consequent +petition, did not take place until she had been +nearly two years out of the country. And why +does Mrs. Chapman select for special contempt, as +unfaithful to their duty to mankind, the Unitarian +ministers? Why does she speak of "the cowardly +ranks of American Unitarians" with such peculiar +emphasis? It is not our business here to defend +this denomination; but we cannot but recall the +"Protest against American Slavery" prepared and +signed in 1845 by one hundred and seventy-three +Unitarian ministers, out of a body containing not +more than two hundred and fifty in all. And it +was this body which furnished to the cause some +of its most honored members. Of those who have +belonged to the Unitarian body, we now recall the +names of such persons as Samuel J. May, Samuel +May, Josiah Quincy, John Quincy Adams, John +Pierpont, Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring, John +G. Palfrey, John P. Hale, Dr. and Mrs. Follen, +Theodore Parker, John Parkman, John T. Sargent, +James Russell Lowell, Wm. H. Furness, +Charles Sumner, Caleb Stetson, John A. Andrew, +Lydia Maria Child, Dr. S. G. Howe, Horace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span> +Mann, T. W. Higginson. So much for the "cowardly +ranks of American Unitarians."</p> + +<p>The last years of Miss Martineau were happy +and peaceful. She had a pleasant home at Ambleside, +on Lake Windermere. She had many +friends, was conscious of having done a good work, +and if she had no hopes in the hereafter, neither +had she any fears concerning it. She was a +strong, upright, true-hearted woman; one of those +who have helped to vindicate "the right of women +to learn the alphabet."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span></p> + +<h2 title="THE RISE AND FALL OF THE SLAVE POWER IN AMERICA"><a id="RISE">THE RISE AND FALL OF THE SLAVE POWER IN AMERICA</a><a name="FNanchor_48" id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">48</a></h2> + +<p>On the first day of January, 1832, when the +American Antislavery Society was formed in the +office of Samuel E. Sewall in Boston, the abolition +of slavery through any such agency seemed impossible. +Almost all the great interests of the country +were combined to defend and sustain the system. +The capital invested in slaves amounted to at least +one thousand millions of dollars. This vast pecuniary +interest was rapidly increasing by the growing +demand for the cotton crop of the Southern States—a +demand which continually overlapped the supply. +The whole political power of the thirteen +slave States was in the hands of the slaveholders. +No white man in the South, unless he was a slaveholder, +was ever elected to Congress, or to any important +political position at home. The two great +parties, Whig and Democrat, were pledged to the +support of slavery in all its constitutional rights, +and vied with each other in giving to these the +largest interpretation. By a constitutional provision, +which could not be altered, the slave States<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> +had in Congress, in 1840, twenty-five more Representatives +in proportion to their number of voters +than the free States. By the cohesion of this great +political and pecuniary interest the slaveholders, +though comparatively few in number, were able to +govern the nation. The Presidents, both houses of +Congress, the Supreme Court of the United States, +the two great political parties, the press of the +country, the mercantile interest, and that mysterious +force which we call society, were virtually in +the hands of the slaveholders. Whenever their +privileges were attacked, all these powers rallied +to their defense. Public opinion, in the highest +circles of society and in the lowest, was perfectly +agreed on this one question. The saloons of the +Fifth Avenue and the mob of the Five Points were +equally loyal to the sacred cause of slavery. Thus +all the great powers which control free states were +combined for its defense; and the attempt to assail +this institution might justly be regarded as +madness. In fact, all danger seemed so remote, +that even so late as 1840 it was common for slaveholders +to admit that property in man was an absurdity +and an injustice. The system itself was so +secure, that they could afford to concede its principle +to their opponents. Just as men formerly +fought duels as a matter of course, while frankly +admitting that it was wrong to do so,—just as at +the present time we concede that war is absurd and +unchristian, but yet go to war continually, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span> +we know no other way of settling international disputes,—so +the slaveholders used to say, "Slavery +is wrong; we know that: but how is it to be abolished? +What can we do about it?"</p> + +<p>Such was the state of things in the United States +less than half a century ago. On one side was an +enormous pecuniary interest, vast political power, +the weight of the press, an almost unanimous public +opinion, the necessities of commerce, the authority +of fashion, the teachings of nearly every +denomination in the Christian church, and the +moral obligations attributed to the sacred covenants +of the fathers of the Republic. On the other +side there were only a few voices crying in the wilderness, +"It is unjust to claim property in man." +The object of the work before us is to show how, +after the slave power had reached this summit of +influence, it lost it all in a single generation; how, +less by the zeal of its opponents than by the madness +of its defenders, this enormous fabric of oppression +was undermined and overthrown; and +how, in a few years, the insignificant handful of +antislavery people brought to their side the great +majority of the nation.</p> + +<p>Certainly a work which should do justice to such +a history would be one of the most interesting +books ever written. For in this series of events +everything was involved which touches most nearly +the mind, the conscience, the imagination, and the +heart of man. How many radical problems in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span> +statesmanship, in political economy, in ethics, in +philosophy, in theology, in history, in science, came +up for discussion during this long controversy! +What pathetic stories of suffering, what separation +of families, what tales of torture, what cruelty +grown into a custom, what awful depths of misery, +came continually to light, as though the judgment-day +were beginning to dawn on the dark places of +the earth! What romances of adventure, what +stories of courage and endurance, of ingenuity in +contrivance, of determination of soul, were listened +to by breathless audiences as related by the humble +lips of the fugitives from bondage! How trite +and meagre became all the commonplaces of oratory +before the flaming eloquence of these terrible +facts! How tame grew all the conventional +rhetoric of pulpit and platform, by the side of +speech vitalized by the immediate presence of this +majestic argument! The book which should reproduce +the antislavery history of those thirty years +would possess an unimagined charm.</p> + +<p>We cannot say that Mr. Wilson's volumes do all +this, nor had we any right to expect it. He proposes +to himself nothing of the sort. What he +gives us is, however, of very great value. It is a +very carefully collected, clearly arranged, and accurate +account of the rise and progress, decline and +catastrophe, of slavery in the United States. Mr. +Wilson does not attempt to be philosophical like +Bancroft and Draper; nor are his pages as picturesque<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span> +as are those of Motley and Carlyle. He +tells us a plain unvarnished tale, the interest of +which is to be found in the statement of the facts +exactly as they occurred. Considering that it is a +story of events all of which he saw and a large part +of which he was, there is a singular absence of prejudice. +He is no man's enemy. He has passed +through the fire, and there is no smell of smoke on +his garments. An intelligent indignation against +the crimes committed in defense of the system he +describes pervades his narrative. His impartiality +is not indifference, but an absence of personal rancor. +Individuals and their conduct are criticised +only so far as is necessary to make clear the course +of events and the condition of public feeling. The +defenders of slavery at the North and South are +regarded not as bad men, but as the outcome of a +bad system.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilson's book is a treasury of facts, and +will never be superseded so far as this peculiar +value is concerned. In this respect it somewhat +resembles Hildreth's "History of the United +States." Taking little space for speculation, comment, +or picturesque coloring, there is all the more +room left for the steady flow of the narrative.</p> + +<p>With a few unimportant omissions, the two volumes +now published contain a full history of slavery +and antislavery from the Ordinance of 1787 +and the compromises of the Constitution down to +the election of Lincoln and the outbreak of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span> +civil war. As a work of reference they are invaluble, +for each event in the long struggle for freedom +is distinctly and accurately told, while the calm +story advances through its various stages. Instead +of following this narrative in detail, which our space +will not allow, we prefer to call our readers' attention +to some of the more striking incidents of this +great revolution.</p> + +<p>Our fathers, when they founded the nation, had +little thought that slavery was ever to attain such +vast extension. They supposed that it would gradually +die out from the South, as it had disappeared +from the North. Yet the whole danger to their +work lay here. Slavery, if anything, was the +wedge which was to split the Union asunder. +When the Constitution was formed, in 1787, the +slaveholders, by dint of great effort, succeeded in +getting the little end of the wedge inserted. It +was very narrow, a mere sharp line, and it went in +only a very little way; so it seemed to be nothing +at all. The slaveholders at that time did not contend +that slavery was right or good. They admitted +that it was a political evil. They confessed, +many of them, that it was a moral evil. All the +great Southern revolutionary bodies had accustomed +themselves to believe in the rights of man, +in the principles of humanity, in the blessings of +liberty; and they could not <em>defend</em> slavery. Mason +of Virginia, in the debates in the Federal Convention, +denounced slavery and the slave-trade.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">318</a></span> +"The evil of slavery," said he, "affects the whole +Union. Slavery discourages arts and manufactures. +The poor despise labor when done by +slaves. They prevent the immigration of whites, +who really enrich a country. They produce the +most pernicious effects on the manners. Every master +of slaves is born a petty tyrant. They bring the +judgment of Heaven on a country." Williamson +of North Carolina declared himself in principle +and practice opposed to slavery. Madison "thought +it wrong to admit in the Constitution the idea that +there could be property in man." But the extreme +Southern States, South Carolina and Georgia, insisted +on the right of importing slaves, at least for +a little while; and so they were allowed to import +them for twenty years. They also insisted on having +their slaves represented by themselves in Congress, +and so they were allowed to count three +fifths of the slaves in determining the ratio. This +seemed a small thing, but it was the entering of +the wedge. It was tolerating the principle of slavery; +not admitting it, but tolerating it. At the +same time that this Convention was forming, the +Federal Constitution Congress was prohibiting +slavery in all the territory northwest of the Ohio. +This prohibition of slavery was adopted by the +unanimous votes of the eight States present, including +Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia. Two +years later it was recognized and confirmed by the +first Congress under the Constitution. Jefferson,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">319</a></span> +a commissioner to revise the statute law of Virginia, +prepared a bill for gradual emancipation in +that State. In 1790 a petition was presented to +Congress, signed by Benjamin Franklin, the last +public act of his life, declaring equal liberty to be +the birthright of all, and asking Congress to "devise +means for restoring liberty to the slaves, and +so removing this inconsistency from the character +of the American people." In 1804 the people of +Virginia petitioned Congress to have the Ordinance +of 1787 suspended, that they might hold slaves; +but a committee of Congress, of which John Randolph +of Virginia was chairman, reported that it +would be "highly dangerous and inexpedient to +impair a provision wisely calculated to promote the +happiness and prosperity of the Northwest Territory."</p> + +<p>But in 1820 the first heavy blow came on the +wedge to drive it into the log. The Union is a +tough log, and the wedge could be driven a good +way in without splitting it; but the first blow +which drove it in was the adopting the Missouri +Compromise, allowing slavery to come North and +take possession of Missouri.</p> + +<p>The thirty years of prosperity which had followed +the adoption of the Constitution had changed +the feelings of men both North and South. The +ideas of the Revolution had receded into the background; +the thirst for wealth and power had taken +their place. So the Southern States, which had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">320</a></span> +cordially agreed thirty years before to prohibit the +extension of slavery, and had readily admitted it +to be a political evil, now demanded as a right the +privilege of carrying slaves into Missouri. They +threatened to dissolve the Union, talked of a fire +only to be extinguished by seas of blood, and proposed +to hang a member from New Hampshire +who spoke of liberty. Some of the Northern men +were not frightened by these threats, and valued +them at their real worth. But we know that the +result was a compromise. Slavery was to take +possession of Missouri, on condition that no other +State as far north as Missouri should be slave-holding. +Slavery was to be excluded from the +rest of the territory forever. This bargain was +applauded and justified by Southern politicians +and newspapers as a great triumph on their part; +and it was. That fatal compromise was a surrender +of principle for the sake of peace, bartering +conscience for quiet; and we were soon to reap the +bitter fruits.</p> + +<p>Face to face, in deadly opposition, each determined +on the total destruction of his antagonist, +stood this Goliath of the slave power and the little +David of antislavery, at the beginning of the ten +years which extended from 1830 to 1840. The +giant was ultimately to fall from the wounds of +his minute opponent, but not during this decade +or the next. For many years each of the parties +was growing stronger, and the fight was growing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">321</a></span> +fiercer. Organization on the one side was continually +becoming more powerful; enthusiasm on the +other continually built up a more determined opinion. +The slave power won repeated victories; but +every victory increased the number and ardor of +its opponents.</p> + +<p>The first attempt to destroy antislavery principles +was by means of mobs. Mobs seldom take +place in a community unless where the upper stratum +of society and the lower are in sympathetic +opposition to some struggling minority. Then the +lower class takes its convictions from the higher, +and regards itself as the hand executing what the +head thinks ought to be done. Respectability denounces +the victim, and the rabble hastens to take +vengeance on him. Even a mob cannot act efficiently +unless inspired by ideas; and these it must +receive from some higher source. So it was when +Priestley was mobbed at Birmingham; so it was +when Wesley and his friends were mobbed in all +parts of England. So it was also in America when +the office of the "Philanthropist" was destroyed +in Cincinnati; when halls and churches were +burned in Philadelphia; when Miss Crandall was +mobbed in Connecticut; when Lovejoy was killed +at Alton. Antislavery meetings were so often invaded +by rioters, that on one occasion Stephen +S. Foster is reported to have declared that the +speakers were not doing their duty, because the +people listened so quietly. "If we were doing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">322</a></span> +our duty," said he, "they would be throwing brick-bats +at us."</p> + +<p>These demonstrations only roused and intensified +the ardor of the Abolitionists, while bringing +to their side those who loved fair play, and those +in whom the element of battle was strong. Mobs +also were an excellent advertisement for the Antislavery +Society; and this is what every new cause +needs most for its extension. Every time that one +of their meetings was violently broken up, every +time that any outrage or injury was offered to the +Abolitionists, all the newspapers in the land gave +them a gratuitous advertisement by conspicuous +notices of the event. So the public mind was directed +to the question, and curiosity was excited. +The antislavery conventions were more crowded +from day to day, their journals were more in demand, +and their plans and opinions became the +subject of conversation everywhere.</p> + +<p>And certainly there could be no more interesting +place to visit than one of these meetings of the +Antislavery Society. With untiring assiduity the +Abolitionists brought to their platform everything +which could excite and impress their audience. +Their orators were of every kind,—rough men +and shrill-voiced women, polished speakers from +the universities, stammering fugitives from slavery, +philosophers and fanatics, atheists and Christian +ministers, wise men who had been made mad by +oppression, and babes in intellect to whom God<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">323</a></span> +had revealed some of the noblest truths. They +murdered the King's English, they uttered glaring +fallacies, the blows aimed at evildoers often glanced +aside and hit good men. Invective was, perhaps, +the too frequent staple of their argument, and any +difference of opinion would be apt to turn their +weapons against each other. This church-militant +often became a church-termagant. Yet, after all +such abatement for errors of judgment or bad taste, +their meetings were a splendid arena on which was +fought one of the greatest battles for mankind. +The eloquence we heard there was not of the +schools, and had nothing artificial about it. It +followed the rule of Demosthenes, and was all directed +to action. Every word was a blow. There +was no respect for dignities or authorities. The +Constitution of the United States, the object of +such unfeigned idolatry to the average American, +was denounced as "a covenant with hell." The +great men of the nation, Webster, Clay, Jackson, +were usually selected as the objects of the severest +censure. The rule was to strike at the heads +which rose above the crowd, as deserving the +sternest condemnation. Presidents and governors, +heads of universities, eminent divines, great +churches and denominations, were convicted as +traitors to the right, or held up to unsparing ridicule. +No conventional proprieties were regarded +in the terrible earnestness of this enraged speech. +It was like the lava pouring from the depths of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">324</a></span> +the earth, and melting the very rocks which opposed +its resistless course.</p> + +<p>Of course this fierce attack roused as fierce a +defense. One extreme generated the other. The +cry for "immediate abolition" was answered by +labored defenses of slavery itself. Formerly its +advocates only excused it as a necessary evil; now +they began to defend it as a positive good. Then +was seen the lamentable sight of Christian ministers +and respected divines hurrying to the support +of the "sum of all villanies." The Episcopal +bishop of a New England State defended with +ardor the system of slavery as an institution supported +by the Bible and commanded by God himself. +The president of a New England college +declared slavery to be a positive institution of +revealed religion, and not inconsistent with the +law of love. The minister of a Boston church, +going to the South for his health, amused his +leisure by writing a book on slavery, in which it is +made to appear as a rose-colored and delightful +institution, and its opposers are severely censured. +One of the most learned professors in a Massachusetts +theological school composed a treatise to +refute the heresy of the higher law, and to maintain +the duty of returning fugitive slaves to bondage. +Under such guidance it was natural that the +churches should generally stand aloof from the +Abolitionists and condemn their course. It was +equally natural that the Abolitionists should then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">325</a></span> +denounce the churches as the bulwark of slavery. +Nevertheless, from the Christian body came most +of those who devoted their lives to the extirpation +of this great evil and iniquity. And Mr. Garrison, +at least, always maintained that his converts +were most likely to be made among those whose +consciences had been educated by the Church and +the Bible.</p> + +<p>From public meetings in the North, the conflict +of ideas next extended itself to the floor of Congress, +where it continued to rage during nearly thirty +years, until "the war of tongue and pen" changed +to that of charging squadrons, the storm of shot +and the roll of cannon. The question found its +way into the debates of Congress in the form of +petitions for the abolition of slavery and the slave-trade +in the District of Columbia. If the slaveholders +had allowed these petitions to be received +and referred, taking no notice of them, it seems +probable that no important results would have +followed. But, blinded by rage and fear, they +opposed their reception, thus denying a privilege +belonging to all mankind,—that of asking the +government to redress their grievances. Then +came to the front a man already eminent by his +descent, his great attainments, his long public +service, his great position, and his commanding +ability. John Quincy Adams, after having been +President of the United States, accepted a seat in +the House of Representatives, and was one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">326</a></span> +most laborious and useful of its members. He +was not then an Abolitionist, nor in favor even of +abolishing slavery in the District of Columbia. +But he believed that the people had the right to +petition the government for anything they desired, +and that their respectful petitions should be respectfully +received. Sixty-five years old in 1832, +when he began this conflict, his warfare with the +slave power ended only when, struck with death +while in his seat, he saw the last of earth and was +content. With what energy, what dauntless courage, +what untiring industry, what matchless powers +of argument, what inexhaustible resources of knowledge, +he pursued his object, the future historian +of the struggle who can fully paint what Mr. +Wilson is only able to indicate, will take pleasure +in describing. One scene will remain forever memorable +as one of the most striking triumphs of +human oratory; and this we must describe a little +more fully.</p> + +<p>February 6, 1837, being the day for presenting +petitions, Mr. Adams had already presented +several petitions for the abolition of slavery in the +District of Columbia (a measure to which he was +himself then opposed), when he proceeded to <span class="locked">state<a name="FNanchor_49" id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">49</a></span> +that he had in his possession a paper upon which +he wished the decision of the Speaker. The paper, +he said, came from twenty persons declaring themselves +to be slaves. He wished to know whether<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">327</a></span> +the Speaker would consider this paper as coming +under the rule of the <span class="locked">House.<a name="FNanchor_50" id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">50</a></span> The Chair said he +would take the advice of the House on that question. +And thereupon began a storm of indignation +which raged around Mr. Adams during four +<span class="locked">days.<a name="FNanchor_51" id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">51</a></span> Considering that the House had ordered, +less than three weeks before, that all papers relating +<em>in any way</em> to slavery should be laid on the +table without any action being taken on them, this +four days' discussion about such a paper, ending +in the passing of several resolutions, was rather an +amusing illustration of the irrepressible character +of the antislavery movement. The Southern members +seemed at first astonished at what they hastily +assumed to be an attempt of Mr. Adams to introduce +a petition from slaves. One moved that it +be not received. Another, indignant at such a +tame way of meeting the question, declared that +any one attempting to introduce such a petition +should be immediately punished; and if that was +not done at once, all the members from the slave +States should leave the House. Loud cries arose, +"Expel him! expel him!" Mr. Alfred declared +that the petition ought to be burned. Mr. Waddy +Thompson of South Carolina, who soon received a +castigation which he little anticipated, moved that +John Quincy Adams, having committed a gross<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">328</a></span> +disrespect to the House in attempting to introduce +a petition from slaves, ought to be instantly +brought to the bar of the House to receive the +severe censure of the Speaker. Similar resolutions +were offered by Mr. Haynes and Mr. Lewis, +all assuming that Mr. Adams had attempted to +introduce this petition. He at last took the floor, +and said that he thought the time of the House +was being consumed needlessly, since all these +resolutions were founded on an error. He had +<em>not</em> attempted to present the petition,—he had +only asked the Speaker a question in regard to it. +He also advised the member from Alabama to +amend his resolution, which stated the petition to +be for the abolition of slavery in the District, +whereas it was the very reverse of that. It was a +petition for something which would be very objectionable +to himself, though it might be the very +thing for which the gentleman from Alabama was +contending. Then Mr. Adams sat down, leaving +his opponents more angry than ever, but somewhat +confused in their minds. They could not +very well censure him for doing what he had not +done, but they wished very much to censure him. +So Mr. Waddy Thompson modified his resolution, +making it state that Mr. Adams, "by creating the +impression, and leaving the House under the impression, +that the petition was for the abolition of +slavery," had trifled with the House, and should +receive its censure. After a multitude of other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">329</a></span> +speeches from the enraged Southern chivalry, the +debate of the first day came to an end.</p> + +<p>On the next day (February 7), in reply to a +question, Mr. Adams stated again that he had not +attempted to present the petition, though his own +feelings would have led him to do so, but had kept +it in his possession, out of respect to the House. +He had said nothing to lead the House to infer +that this petition was for the abolition of slavery. +He should consider before presenting a petition +from slaves; though, in his opinion, slaves had a +right to petition, and the mere fact of a petition +being from slaves would not of itself prevent him +from presenting it. If the petition were a proper +one, he should present it. A petition was a +prayer, a supplication to a superior being. Slaves +might pray to God; was this House so superior +that it could not condescend to hear a prayer from +those to whom the Almighty listened? He ended +by saying that, in asking the question of the +Speaker, he had intended to show the greatest +respect to the House, and had not the least purpose +of trifling with it.</p> + +<p>These brief remarks of Mr. Adams made it +necessary for the slaveholders again to change +their tactics. Mr. Dromgoole of Virginia now +brought forward his famous resolution, which Mr. +Adams afterwards made so ridiculous, accusing +him of having "given color to an idea" that +slaves had a right to petition, and that he should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">330</a></span> +be censured by the Speaker for this act. Another +member proposed, rather late in the day, that a +committee be appointed to inquire whether any +attempt had been made, or not, to offer a petition +from slaves. Another offered a series of resolutions, +declaring that if any one "hereafter" should +offer petitions from slaves he ought to be regarded +as an enemy of the South, and of the Union; but +that "as John Quincy Adams had stated that he +meant no disrespect to the House, that all proceedings +as to his conduct should now cease." And +so, after many other speeches, the second day's +debate came to an end.</p> + +<p>The next day was set apart to count the votes +for President, and so the debate was resumed +February 9. It soon become more confused than +ever. Motions were made to lay the resolutions +on the table; they were withdrawn; they were +renewed; they were voted down; and, finally, +after much discussion, and when at last the final +question was about being taken, Mr. Adams inquired +whether he was to be allowed to be heard +in his own defense before being condemned. So +he obtained the floor, and immediately the whole +aspect of the case was changed. During three +days he had been the prisoner at the bar; suddenly +he became the judge on the bench. Never, +in the history of forensic eloquence, has a single +speech effected a greater change in the purpose of +a deliberative assembly. Often as the Horatian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">331</a></span> +description has been quoted of the just man, tenacious +of his purpose, who fears not the rage of citizens +clamoring for what is wrong, it has never +found a fitter application than to the unshaken +mind of John Quincy Adams, standing alone, in +the midst of his antagonists, like a solid monument +which the idle storms beat against in vain.</p> + +<p>He began by saying that he had been waiting +during these three days for an answer to the question +which he had put to the Speaker, and which +the Speaker had put to the House, but which the +House had not yet answered, namely, whether the +paper he held in his hand came under the rule of +the House or not. They had discussed everything +else, but had not answered that question. +They had wasted the time of the House in considering +how they could censure him for doing what +he had not done. All he wished to know was, +whether a petition from slaves should be received +or not. He himself thought that it ought to be +received; but if the House decided otherwise, he +should not present it. Only one gentleman had +undertaken to discuss that question, and his argument +was, that if slavery was abolished by Congress +in any State, the Constitution was violated; +and, <em>therefore</em>, slaves ought not to be allowed to +petition for anything. He, Mr. Adams, was unable +to see the connection between the premises +and the conclusion.</p> + +<p>Hereupon poor Mr. French, the author of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">332</a></span> +argument, tried to explain what he meant by it, +but left his meaning as confused as before.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Adams added, that if you deprived +any one in the community of the right of petition, +which was only the right of offering a prayer, you +would find it difficult to know where to stop; one +gentleman had objected to the reception of one +petition, because offered by women of a bad character. +Mr. Patton of Virginia says he <em>knows</em> that +one of the names is of a woman of a bad character. +<em>How does he know it?</em></p> + +<p>Hereupon Mr. Patton explained that he did not +himself know the woman, but had been told that +her character was not good.</p> + +<p>So, said Mr. Adams, you first deny the right of +petition to slaves, then to free people of color, and +then you inquire into the moral character of a petitioner +before you receive his petition. The next +step will be to inquire into the political belief of +the petitioners before you receive your petition. +Mr. Robertson of Virginia had said that no petitions +ought to be received for an object which Congress +had no power to grant. Mr. Adams replied, +with much acuteness, that on most questions the +right of granting the petition might be in doubt: +a majority must decide that point; it would therefore +follow, from Mr. Robertson's rule, that no one +had a right to petition unless he belonged to the +predominant party. Mr. Adams then turned to +Mr. Dromgoole, who had charged him with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">333</a></span> +remarkable crime of "giving color to an idea," and +soon made that Representative of the Old Dominion +appear very ridiculous.</p> + +<p>Mr. Adams then proceeded to rebuke, with dignity +but severity, the conduct of those who had +proposed to censure him without any correct knowledge +of the facts of the case. His criticisms had +the effect of compelling these gentlemen to excuse +themselves and to offer various explanations of +their mistakes. These assailants suddenly found +themselves in an attitude of self-defense. Mr. +Adams graciously accepted their explanations, advising +them in future to be careful when they +undertook to offer resolutions of censure. He +then informed Mr. Waddy Thompson of South +Carolina that he had one or two questions to put +to him. By this time it had become a pretty +serious business to receive the attentions of Mr. +Adams; and Mr. Waddy Thompson immediately +rose to explain. But Mr. Adams asked him to +wait until he had fully stated the question which +Mr. Thompson was to answer. This Southern +statesman had threatened the ex-President of the +United States with an indictment by the grand +jury of the District for words spoken in debate in +the House of Representatives, and had added that, +if the petition was presented, Mr. Adams would be +sent to the penitentiary. "Sir," said Mr. Adams, +"the only answer I make to such a threat from +that gentleman is, to invite him, when he returns<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">334</a></span> +to his constituents, to study a little the first principles +of civil liberty." He then called on the +gentlemen from the slave States to say how many +of them indorsed that sentiment. "<em>I</em> do not," said +Mr. Underwood of Kentucky. "<em>I</em> do not," said +Mr. Wise of Virginia. Mr. Thompson was compelled +to attempt another explanation, and said +he meant that, in <em>South Carolina</em>, any member +of the legislature who should present a petition +from slaves could be indicted. "Then," replied +Mr. Adams, and this produced a great sensation, +"if it is the law of South Carolina that members +of her Legislature may be indicted by juries for +words spoken in debate, God Almighty receive my +thanks that I am not a citizen of South Carolina."</p> + +<p>Mr. Adams ended his speech by declaring that +the honor of the House of Representatives was +always regarded by him as a sacred sentiment, and +that he should feel a censure from that House as +the heaviest misfortune of a long life, checkered +as it had been by many vicissitudes.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Adams began his defense, not only +was a large majority of the House opposed to his +course, but they had brought themselves by a series +of violent harangues into a condition of bitter excitement +against him. When he ended, the effect +of this extraordinary speech was such, that all the +resolutions were rejected, and out of the whole +House only twenty-two members could be found +to pass a vote of even indirect censure. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">335</a></span> +victory was won, and won by Mr. Adams almost +single-handed. We count Horatius Cocles a hero +for holding the Roman bridge against a host of +enemies; but greater honors belong to him who +successfully defends against overwhelming numbers +the ancient safeguards of public liberty. For +this reason we have repeated here at such length +the story of three days, which the people of the +United States ought always to remember. It took +ten years to accomplish the actual repeal of these +gag-laws. But the main work was done when the +right of speech was obtained for the friends of +freedom in Congress; and John Quincy Adams +was the great leader in this warfare. He was +joined on that arena by other noble champions,—Giddings, +Mann, Palfrey, John P. Hale, Chase, +Seward, Slade of Vermont, Julian of Indiana. +Others no less devoted followed them, among +whom came from Massachusetts Charles Sumner +and Henry Wilson, the author of the present +work. What he cannot properly say of himself +should be said for him. Though an accomplished +and eager politician, Henry Wilson has never sacrificed +any great principle for the sake of political +success. His services to the antislavery cause +have been invaluable, his labors in that cause unremitting. +Personal feelings and personal interests +he has been ready to sacrifice for the sake of +the cause. Loyal to his friends, he has not been +bitter to his opponents; and if any man who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">336</a></span> +fought through that long struggle were to be its +historian, no one will deny the claims of Mr. Wilson +to that honor.</p> + +<p>Under the lead of John Quincy Adams, the +power to discuss the whole subject of slavery in +the National Legislature was won, and never again +lost. This was the second triumph of the antislavery +movement; its first was the power won by +Garrison and his friends of discussing the subject +before the people. The wolfish mob in the cities +and in Congress might continue to howl, but it had +lost its claws and teeth. But now came the first +great triumph of the slave power, in the annexation +of Texas. This was a cruel blow to the +friends of freedom. It was more serious because +the motive of annexation was openly announced, +and the issue distinctly presented in the Presidential +election. Mr. Upshur, Tyler's Secretary of +State, in an official dispatch, declared that the +annexation of Texas was necessary to secure the +institution of slavery. The Democratic Convention +which nominated Mr. Polk for the Presidency +deliberately made the annexation of Texas +the leading feature of its platform. Nor was the +slave power in this movement opposed merely by +the antislavery feeling of the country. Southern +senators helped to defeat the measure when first +presented in the form of a treaty by Mr. Tyler's +administration. Nearly the whole Whig party +was opposed to it. The candidate of the Whigs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">337</a></span> +Henry Clay, had publicly declared that annexation +would be a great evil to the nation. Twenty +members of Congress, with John Quincy Adams at +their head, had proclaimed in an address to their +constituents that it would be equivalent to a dissolution +of the Union. Dr. Channing, in 1838, had +said that it would be better for the nation to perish +than to commit such an outrageous wrong. +Edward Everett, in 1837, spoke of annexation as +"an enormous crime." Whig and Democratic +legislatures had repeatedly denounced it. In 1843, +when the Democrats had a majority in the Massachusetts +legislature, they resolved that "under no +circumstances whatever" could the people of Massachusetts +approve of annexation. Martin Van +Buren opposed it as unjust to Mexico. Senator +Benton, though previously in favor of the measure, +in a speech in Missouri declared that the +object of those who were favoring the scheme was +to dissolve the Union, though he afterward came +again to its support. And yet when the Presidential +campaign was in progress, a Democratic torchlight +procession miles long was seen marching +through the streets of Boston, and flaunting the +lone star of Texas along its whole line. And when +Polk was elected, and the decision of the nation +virtually given for this scheme, it seemed almost +hopeless to contend longer against such a triumph +of slavery. If the people of the North could submit +to this outrage, it appeared as if they could +submit to anything.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">338</a></span> +Such, however, was not the case. On one side +the slave power was greatly strengthened by the +admission of Texas to the Union as a slave State; +but, on the other hand, there came a large accession +to the antislavery body. And this continued +to be the case during many years. The slave +power won a succession of political victories, each +of which was a moral victory to its opponents. +Many who were not converted to antislavery by +the annexation of Texas in 1845 were brought over +by the defeat of the Wilmot Proviso and the passage +of the Fugitive Slave Law in 1850. Many +who were not alarmed by these successes of slavery +were convinced of the danger when they beheld the +actual working of the Fugitive Slave Act. How +many Boston gentlemen, before opposed to the +Abolitionists, were brought suddenly to their side +when they saw the Court House in chains, and were +prevented by soldiers guarding Anthony Burns +from going to their banks or insurance offices in +State Street! All those bitter hours of defeat and +disaster planted the seeds of a greater harvest for +freedom. Others who remained insensible to the +disgrace of the slave laws of 1850 were recruited +to the ranks of freedom by the repeal of the Missouri +Compromise in 1854. This last act, Mr. +Wilson justly says, did more than any other to +arouse the North, and convince it of the desperate +encroachments of slavery. Men who tamely acquiesced +in <em>this</em> great wrong were startled into moral<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">339</a></span> +life by the murderous assault on Charles Sumner +by Preston Brooks in 1856. Those who could submit +to this were roused by the border ruffians from +Missouri who invaded Kansas, and made the proslavery +Constitution for that State. The Dred +Scott decision in 1857, which declared slavery to +be no local institution, limited to a single part of +the land, but having a right to exist in the free +States under the Constitution, alarmed even those +who had been insensible to the previous aggressions +of slavery. This series of political successes +of the slave power was appalling. Every principle +of liberty, every restraint on despotism, was overthrown +in succession, until the whole power of the +nation had fallen into the hands of an oligarchy of +between three and four hundred thousand slaveholders. +But every one of their political victories +was a moral defeat; every access to their strength +as an organization added an immense force to the +public opinion opposed to them; and each of their +successes was responded to by some advance of the +antislavery movement. The annexation of Texas +in 1845 was answered by the appearance of John +P. Hale, in 1847, in the United States Senate,—the +first man who was elected to that body on distinctly +antislavery grounds and independent of +either of the great parties. The response to the +defeat of the Wilmot Proviso and passage of the +Fugitive Slave Law in 1850 was the election of +Charles Sumner to the Senate in April, 1851, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">340</a></span> +the establishment of the underground railroad in +all the free States. When the South abrogated +the Missouri Compromise, the North replied by the +initiation of the Republican party. The Kansas +outrages gave to freedom John Brown of Osawatomie. +And the answer to the Dred Scott decision +was the nomination of Abraham Lincoln. Till +that moment the forces of freedom and slavery had +stood opposed, like two great armies, each receiving +constant recruits and an acccession of new +power. On one side, hitherto, had been all the +political triumphs, and on the other all the moral. +But with this first great political success of their +opponents the slave power became wholly demoralized, +gave up the conflict, threw away the results +of all its former victories, and abandoned the field +to its enemies, plunging into the dark abyss of secession +and civil war.</p> + +<p>And yet, what was the issue involved in that +election? It was simply whether slavery should +or should not be extended into new Territories. +All that the Republican party demanded was that +slavery should not be extended. It did not dream +of abolishing slavery in the slave States. We remember +how, long after the war began, we refused +to do this. The Southerners had every guaranty +they could desire that they should not be interfered +with at home. If they had gracefully acquiesced +in the decision of the majority, their institution +might have flourished for another century. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">341</a></span> +Fugitive Slave Law would have been repealed; or, +at all events, trial by jury would have been given +to the man claimed as a fugitive. But no attempt +would have been made by the Republican party to +interfere with slavery in the slave States, for that +party did not believe it had the right so to do.</p> + +<p>But, in truth, the course of the Southern leaders +illustrated in a striking way the distinction between +a politician and a statesman. They were very acute +politicians, trained in all the tactics of their art; +but they were poor statesmen, incapable of any +large strategic plan of action. As statesmen, they +should have made arrangements for the gradual +abolition of slavery, as an institution incapable of +sustaining itself in civilized countries in the nineteenth +century. Or, if they wished to maintain it +as long as possible, they ought to have seen that +this could only be accomplished by preserving the +support of the interests and the public opinion of +the North. Alliance with the Northern States was +their only security; and, therefore, they ought to +have kept the Northern conscience on their side by +a loyal adherence to all compacts and covenants. +Instead of this, they contrived to outrage, one by +one, every feeling of honor, every sentiment of +duty, and every vested right of the free States, +until, at last, it became plain to all that it was an +"irrepressible conflict," and must be settled definitely +either for slavery or for freedom. When +this point was reached by the American people,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">342</a></span> +they saw also that it could not be settled in favor +of slavery, for no concession would satisfy the slaveholders, +and no contract these might make could be +depended on. The North gave them, in 1850, the +Fugitive Slave Law for the sake of peace. Did it +gain peace? No. It relinquished, for the sake +of peace, the Wilmot Proviso. Was the South +satisfied? No. In 1853 Mr. Douglas offered it +the Nebraska Bill. Was it contented? By no +means. Mr. Pierce and Mr. Buchanan did their +best to give it Kansas. Did they content the South +by their efforts? No. Mr. Douglas, Mr. Pierce, +and Mr. Buchanan were all set aside by the South. +The Lecompton Bill was not enough. The Dred +Scott decision was not enough. The slaveholders +demanded that slavery should be established by a +positive act of Congress in all the Territories of +the Union. Even Judge Douglas shrank aghast +from the enterprise of giving them such a law as +that; and so Judge Douglas was immediately +thrown aside. Thus, by the folly of the Southern +leaders themselves, more than by the efforts of their +opponents, the majority was obtained by the Republicans +in the election of 1860.</p> + +<p>But during this conflict came many very dark +days for freedom. One of these was after the passage +of the Fugitive Slave Law in 1850. That law +was one of a series of compromises, intended to +make a final settlement of the question and to silence +all antislavery agitation. Although defended<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">343</a></span> +by great lawyers, who thought it necessary to save +the Union, there is little doubt that it was as unconstitutional +as it was cruel. The Constitution +declares that "no person shall be deprived of his +liberty without due process of law," and also that +"in suits at common law, when the value in controversy +shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial +by jury shall be preserved." Anthony Burns was +in full possession of his liberty; he was a self-supporting, +tax-paying citizen of Massachusetts; and +in ten days, by the action of the Fugitive Slave +Law, he was turned into a slave under the decision +of a United States commissioner, without seeing a +judge or a jury. The passage of this law, and its +actual enforcement, caused great excitement among +the free colored people at the North, as well as +among the fugitives from slavery. No one was +safe. It was evident that it was meant to be enforced,—it +was not meant to be idle thunder. +But instead of discouraging the friends of freedom, +it roused them to greater activity. More fugitives +than ever came from the slave States, and the +underground railroad was in fuller activity than +before. The methods employed by fugitives to escape +were very various and ingenious. One man +was brought away in a packing-box. Another +clung to the lower side of the guard of a steamer, +washed by water at every roll of the vessel. One +well-known case was that of Ellen Crafts, who +came from Georgia disguised as a young Southern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">344</a></span> +gentleman, attended by her husband as body-servant. +She rode in the cars, sitting near Southerners +who knew her, but did not recognize her in +this costume, and at last arrived safe in Philadelphia. +In one instance a slave escaped from Kentucky, +with all his family, walking some distance +on stilts, in order to leave no scent for the pursuing +blood-hounds. When these poor people reached +the North, and told their stories on the antislavery +platform, they excited great sympathy, which was +not confined to professed antislavery people. A +United States commissioner, who might be called +on to return fugitives to bondage, frequently had +them concealed in his own house, by the action of +his wife, whose generous heart never wearied in +this work, and who was the means of saving many +from bondage. A Democratic United States marshal, +in Boston, whose duty it was to arrest fugitive +slaves, was in the habit of telling the slave-owner +who called on him for assistance that he "did not +know anything about niggers, but he would find +out where the man was from those who did." +Whereupon he would go directly to Mr. Garrison's +office and tell him he wanted to arrest such or such +a man, a fugitive from slavery. "But," said he, +"curiously enough, the next thing I heard would +be, that the fellow was in Canada." And when a +colored man was actually sent back to slavery, as +in the case of Burns, the event excited so much +sympathy with the fugitive, and so much horror of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">345</a></span> +the law, that its effects were disastrous to the slave +power. Thomas M. Simms was arrested in Boston +as a fugitive from slavery, April 3, 1851, and was +sent to slavery by the decision of George Ticknor +Curtis, a United States commissioner. The answer +to this act, by Massachusetts, was the election of +Charles Sumner, twenty-one days after, to the +United States Senate. Anthony Burns was returned +to slavery by order of Edward G. Loring, +in May, 1854; and Massachusetts responded by +removing him from his office as Judge of Probate, +and refusing his confirmation as a professor in Harvard +University.</p> + +<p>The passage of what were called the compromise +measures of 1850, including the Fugitive Slave +Law, had, it was fondly believed, put an end to the +whole antislavery agitation. The two great parties, +Whig and Democrat, had agreed that such should +be the case. The great leaders, Henry Clay and +Daniel Webster, Cass and Buchanan, were active +in calling on the people to subdue their prejudices +in favor of freedom. Southern fire-eaters, like +Toombs and Alexander Stephens, joined these +Union-savers, and became apostles of peace. Agitation +was the only evil, and agitation must now +come to an end. Public meetings were held in the +large cities,—one in Castle Garden in New York, +another in Faneuil Hall in Boston. In these meetings +the lion and the lamb lay down together. +Rufus Choate and Benjamin Hallet joined in demanding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">346</a></span> +that all antislavery agitation should now +cease. The church was called upon to assist in the +work of Union-saving, and many leading divines +lent their aid in this attempt to silence those who +desired that the oppressed should go free, and who +wished to break every yoke. Many seemed to suppose +that all antislavery agitation was definitely +suppressed. President Fillmore called the compromise +measures "a final adjustment." All the +powers which control human opinion—the two +great political parties, the secular and the religious +newspapers, the large churches and popular divines, +the merchants and lawyers—had agreed that the +antislavery agitation should now <span class="locked">cease.<a name="FNanchor_52" id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">52</a></span></p> + +<p>But just at that moment, when the darkness was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">347</a></span> +the deepest, and all the great powers in the church +and state had decreed that there should be no more +said concerning American slavery, the voice of a +woman broke the silence, and American slavery +became the one subject of discussion throughout +the world. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was written by +Mrs. Stowe for the "National Era," Dr. Bailey's +paper in Washington. It was intended to be a +short story, running through two or three numbers +of the journal, and she was to receive a hundred +dollars for writing it. But, as she wrote, the fire +burned in her soul, a great inspiration came over +her, and, not knowing what she was about to do, +she moved the hearts of two continents to their +very depths. After her story had appeared in the +newspaper, she offered it as a novel to several publishers, +who refused it. Accepted at last, it had a +circulation unprecedented in the annals of literature. +In eight weeks its sale had reached one hundred +thousand copies in the United States, while +in England a million copies were sold within the +year. On the European Continent the sale was +immense. A single publisher in Paris issued five +editions in a few weeks, and before the end of 1852 +it was translated into Italian, Spanish, Danish, +Swedish, Dutch, Flemish, German, Polish, and +Magyar. To these were afterward added translations +into Portuguese, Welsh, Russian, Arabic, and +many other languages. For a time, it stopped the +publication and sale of all other works; and within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">348</a></span> +a year or two from the day when the politicians +had decided that no more should be said concerning +American slavery, it had become the subject of +conversation and discussion among millions.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Tom's Cabin" was published in 1852. +Those were very dark hours in the great struggle +for freedom. Who that shared them can ever forget +the bitterness caused by the defection of Daniel +Webster, and his 7th of March speech in 1850; +by the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law, which +made the whole area of the free States a hunting-ground +for the slaveholders; and by the rejection +of the Wilmot Proviso, which abandoned all the +new territory to slavery? This was followed by +the election of Franklin Pierce as President in +1852, on a platform in which the Democratic party +pledged itself to resist all agitation of the subject +of slavery in Congress or outside of it. And in +December, 1853, Stephen A. Douglas introduced +his Nebraska Bill, which repealed the Missouri +Compromise of 1820, and opened all the territory +heretofore secured to freedom to slaveholders and +their slaves. This offer on the part of Mr. Douglas +was a voluntary bid for the support of the slaveholders +in the next Presidential election. And in +spite of all protests from the North, all resistance +by Democrats as well as their opponents, all arguments +and appeals, this solemn agreement between +the North and the South was violated, and every +restriction on slavery removed. Nebraska and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">349</a></span> +Kansas were organized as Territories, and the +question of slavery left to local tribunals, or what +was called "squatter sovereignty."</p> + +<p>The passage of this measure showed the vast +political advance of the slave power in the country, +and how greatly it had corrupted the political conscience +of the nation. It also showed, to those +who had eyes, that slavery was the wedge which +was to split the Union asunder. But there were +in the North many persons who still thought that +danger to the Union came rather from the <em>discussion</em> +of slavery than from slavery itself. They supposed +that if all opposition to slavery should cease, +then there would be no more danger. The Abolitionists +were the cause of all the peril; and the +way to save the Union was to silence the Abolitionists. +That, however, had been tried ineffectually +when they were few and weak; and now it was +too late, as these Union-savers ought to have seen.</p> + +<p>Mr. Douglas and his supporters defended their +cause by maintaining that the Missouri Compromise +was not a contract, but a simple act of legislation, +and they tauntingly asked, "Why, since +antislavery men had always thought that Compromise +a bad thing, should they now object to its +being repealed?" Even this sophism had its +effect with some, who did not notice that Douglas's +resolutions only repealed that half of the Compromise +which was favorable to freedom, while +letting the other half remain. One part of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">350</a></span> +Act of 1820 was that Missouri should be admitted +as a slave State; the other part was that all the +rest of the Territory should be forever free. Only +the last part was now repealed. Missouri was left +in the Union as a slave State.</p> + +<p>The political advance now made by slavery will +appear from the following <span class="locked">facts:—</span></p> + +<p>In 1797 the slave power asked for only life; it +did not wish to extend itself; it united with the +North in prohibiting its own extension into the +Northwest Territory.</p> + +<p>In 1820 it did wish to extend itself; it refused +to be shut out of Missouri, but was willing that +the rest of the Territory should be always free.</p> + +<p>In 1845 it insisted on extending itself by annexing +Texas, but it admitted that it had no right to +go into any Territory as far north as Missouri.</p> + +<p>In 1850 it refused to be shut out of any of the +new territory, and resisted the Wilmot Proviso; +but still confessed that it had no right to go into +Kansas or Nebraska.</p> + +<p>Five years after, by the efforts of Stephen A. +Douglas and Franklin Pierce, it refused to be shut +out of Kansas, and repealed the part of the Missouri +Compromise which excluded it from that +region. But, in order to accomplish this repeal, it +took the plausible name of "popular sovereignty," +and claimed that the people should themselves +decide whether they would have a slave State or +a free State.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">351</a></span> +One additional step came. The people decided +or were about to decide for freedom; and then the +slave power set aside its own doctrine of popular +sovereignty and invaded the Territory with an +army of Missourians, chose a legislature for the +people of Kansas composed of Missourians, who +passed laws establishing slavery and punishing +with fine and imprisonment any who should even +speak against it.</p> + +<p>The people of Kansas refused to obey these +laws. They would have been slaves already if they +had obeyed them. Then their own governor, appointed +by our President, led an army of Missourians +to destroy their towns and plunder and +murder their people. Nothing was left them but +to resist. They did resist manfully but prudently, +and by a remarkable combination of courage and +caution the people of the little Free-State town of +Lawrence succeeded in saving themselves from this +danger without shedding a drop of blood. Men, +women, and children were animated by the same +heroic spirit. The women worked by the side of +the men. The men were placed on the outposts as +sentinels and ordered by their general not to fire +as long as they could possibly avoid it. And these +men stood on their posts, and allowed themselves +to be shot at by the invaders, and did not return +the fire. One man received two bullets through +his hat, and was ready to fire if the enemy came +nearer, but neither fired nor quitted his post.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">352</a></span> +The men were brave and obedient to orders; the +women were resolute, sagacious, and prudent. So +they escaped their first great danger.</p> + +<p>But slavery does not give up its point so easily +after one defeat. Preparations were made along +the Missouri frontier for another invasion, conducted +in a more military manner and by troops +under better discipline. The Free-State people of +Kansas were to be exterminated. From week to +week they were expecting an attack, and had to +watch continually against it. After having worked +all day the men were obliged to do military duty +and stand guard all night. Men who lived four +and five miles out from Lawrence got wood and +water for their wives in the morning, left them a +revolver with which to defend themselves, and +went to Lawrence to do military duty, returning +at night again.</p> + +<p>If we had a writer gifted with the genius of +Macaulay to describe the resistance of Kansas to +the Federal authorities on one side and the Missouri +invaders on the other, it would show as heroic +courage and endurance as are related in the brilliant +pages which tell of the defense of Londonderry. +The invaders were unscrupulous, knowing +that they had nothing to fear from the government +at Washington. Senator Atchison, formerly the +presiding officer of the United States Senate, +openly advised the people of Missouri to go and +vote in Kansas. General Stringfellow told them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">353</a></span> +to take their bowie-knives and exterminate every +scoundrel who was tainted with Free-soilism or +Abolitionism. The orders were obeyed. The first +legislature was elected by armed invaders from +Missouri, and Buford with a regiment of Southern +soldiers entered the Territory in 1856, and surrounded +Lawrence. These troops, under Atchison, +Buford, and Stringfellow, burned houses and +hotels, and stole much property. Osawatomie was +sacked and burned, Leavenworth invaded and +plundered, and Free-State men were killed. A +proslavery constitution formed by Missouri slaveholders +was forced through Congress, but rejected +by the people of Kansas, who at last gained possession +of their own State by indomitable courage and +patience. Four territorial governors, appointed by +the President, selected from the Democratic party +and favorable to the extension of slavery, were all +converted to the cause of freedom by the sight of +the outrages committed by the Missouri invaders.</p> + +<p>Amid this scene of tumult arose a warrior on +the side of freedom destined to take his place with +William Wallace and William Tell among the +few names of patriots which are never forgotten. +John Brown of Osawatomie was one of those +who, in these later days, have reproduced for us +the almost forgotten type of the Jewish hero and +prophet. He was a man who believed in a God of +justice, who believed in fighting fire with fire. He +was one who came in the spirit and power of Elijah,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">354</a></span> +an austere man, a man absorbed in his ideas, +fixed as fate in pursuing them. Yet his heart was +full of tenderness, he had no feeling of revenge +toward any, and he really lost his own life rather +than risk the lives of others. While in Kansas he +become a leader of men, a captain, equal to every +exigency. The ruffians from Missouri found to +their surprise that, before they could conquer Kansas, +they had some real fighting to do, and must +face Sharpe's rifles; and as soon as they understood +this, their zeal for their cause was very much +abated. In this struggle John Brown was being +educated for the last scene of his life, which has +lifted up his name, and placed it in that body +which Daniel O'Connell used to call "The order +of <span class="locked">Liberators."<a name="FNanchor_53" id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">53</a></span></p> + +<p>Out of these persecutions of Free-State men in +Kansas came the assault on Charles Sumner, for +words spoken in debate. Charles Sumner was +elected to the United States Senate in 1851. He +found in Congress some strong champions of freedom. +John Quincy Adams was gone; but Seward +was there, and Chase, and John P. Hale, in the +Senate; and Horace Mann, Giddings, and other +true men in the House. Henry Wilson himself, +always a loyal friend to Sumner, did not come till +1855. These men all differed from one another, +and each possessed special gifts for his arduous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">355</a></span> +work. They stood face to face with an imperious +majority, accustomed to rule. They had only imperfect +support at home,—people and press at +the North had been demoralized by slavery. They +must watch their words, be careful of what they +said, control their emotions, maintain an equal +temper. Something of the results of this discipline +we think we perceive in the calm tone of Mr. +Wilson's volumes, and the absence of passion in +his narration. These men must give no occasion +to the enemy to blaspheme, but be careful of their +lips and their lives. Their gifts, we have said, +were various. Seward was a politician, trained in +all the intricate ways of New York party struggles; +but he was also a thinker of no small power +of penetration. He could see principles, but was +too much disposed to sacrifice or postpone them to +some supposed exigency of the hour. In his orations, +when he spoke for mankind, his views were +large; but in his politics he sometimes gave up to +party his best-considered convictions. Thought +and action, he seemed to believe, belonged to two +spheres; in his thought he was often broader in +his range than any other senator, but in action he +was frequently tempted to temporize. Mr. Chase +was a man of a different sort. He had no disposition +to concede any of his views. A cautious man, +he moved slowly; but when he had taken his position, +he was not disposed to leave it. John P. +Hale was admirable in reply. His retorts were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">356</a></span> +rapid and keen, and yet were uttered so good-naturedly, +and with so much wit, that it was difficult +for his opponents to take offense. But +Charles Sumner was "the noblest Roman of them +all." With a more various culture, a higher tone +of moral sentiment, he was also a learned student +and a man of implacable opinions. He never +could comprehend Mr. Seward's diplomacy, and +probably Mr. Seward could never understand Sumner's +inability to compromise. He was deficient +in imagination and in tact; therefore he could not +enter into the minds of others, and imperfectly +understood them. But the purity of his soul and +life, the childlike simplicity of his purposes, and +the sweetness of his disposition, were very charming +to those who knew him well. Add to this the +resources of a mind stored with every kind of +knowledge, and a memory which never forgot anything, +and his very presence in Washington gave +an added value to the place. He had seen men +and cities, and was intimate with European celebrities, +but yet was an Israelite indeed in whom was +no guile. Fond of the good opinions of others, +and well pleased with their approbation, he never +sacrificed a conviction to win their praise or to +avoid their censure. Certainly, he was one of the +purest men who ever took part in American politics.</p> + +<p>It was such a man as this, so gifted and adorned, +so spotless and upright, who by the wise providence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">357</a></span> +of God was permitted to be the victim of a +brutal assassin. It was this noble head, the instrument +of laborious thought for the public welfare, +which was beaten and bruised by the club of +a ruffian, on May 22, 1856. Loud was the triumph +through the South, great the joy of the slave +power. They had disabled, with cruel blows, their +chief enemy. Little did they foresee—bad men +never do foresee—that Charles Sumner was to +return to his seat, and become a great power in the +land, long after their system had been crushed, and +their proud States trampled into ruin by the tread +of Northern armies. They did not foresee that he +was to be the trusted counselor of Lincoln during +those years of war; and that, after they had been +conquered, he would become one of their best +friends in their great calamity, and repay their +evil with good.</p> + +<p>This murderous assault on Mr. Sumner cannot +be considered as having strengthened the political +position of the slave power. It was a great mistake +in itself, and it was a greater mistake in being +indorsed by such multitudes in the slave States. +In thus taking the responsibility of the act, they +fully admitted that brutality, violence, and cowardly +attempts at assassination are natural characteristics +of slavery. A thrill of horror went +through the civilized world on this occasion. All +the free States felt themselves outraged. That +an attempt should be made to kill in his seat a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">358</a></span> +Northern man, for words spoken in debate, was a +gross insult and wrong to the nation, and deepened +everywhere the detestation felt for the system.</p> + +<p>But madness must have its perfect work. One +more step remained to be taken by the slave power, +and that was to claim the right, under the Constitution, +and protected by the general government, +to carry slaves and slavery into all the Territories. +It was not enough that they were not prohibited +by acts of Congress. They must not allow the +people of the Territories to decide for themselves +whether slavery should exist among them or not. +It had a right to exist there, in spite of the people. +A single man from South Carolina, going with his +slaves into Nebraska, should have the power of +making that a slave State, though all the rest of its +inhabitants wished it to be free. And if he were +troubled by his neighbors, he had a right to call +on the military power of the United States to protect +him against them. Such was the doctrine of +the Dred Scott case, such the doctrine accepted by +the majority of the United States Senate under the +lead of Jefferson Davis in the spring of 1859. +Such was the doctrine demanded by the Southern +members of the Democratic Convention in Charleston, +S. C., in May, 1860, and, failing to carry it, +they broke up that convention. And it was because +they were defeated in this purpose of carrying +slavery into the Territories that they seceded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">359</a></span> +from the Union, and formed the Southern Confederacy.</p> + +<p>They had gained a long succession of political +triumphs, which we have briefly traced in this +article. They had annexed Texas, and made another +slave State of that Territory. They had established +the principle that slavery was not to be +excluded by law from any of the Territories of the +nation. They had repealed the Missouri Compromise, +passed the Fugitive Slave Law, obtained the +Dred Scott decision from the Supreme Court. In +all this they had been aided by the Democratic +party, and were sure of the continued help of that +party. With these allies, they were certain to +govern the country for a long period of years. +The President, the Senate, the Supreme Court, +were all on their side. As regarded slavery in the +States, there was nothing to threaten its existence +there. The Republicans proposed only to restrict +it to the region where it actually existed, but could +not and would not meddle with it therein. If the +slave power had been satisfied with this, it seems +probable that it might have retained its ascendency +in the country for a long period. An immense +region was still open to its colonies. Cotton was +still king, and the slaveholders possessed all the +available cotton-growing regions. They were +wealthy, they were powerful, they governed the +nation. They threw all this power away by seceding +from the Union. Why did they do this?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">360</a></span> +The frequent answer to this question is contained +in the proverb, "Whom the gods would destroy +they first make mad." No doubt this act +was one of madness, and no doubt it was providential. +But Providence works not by direct interference, +but by maintaining the laws of cause and +effect. Why did they become so mad? Why this +supreme folly of relinquishing actual enormous +power, in order to set their lives and fortunes on +the hazard of a die?</p> + +<p>It seems to be the doom of all vaulting ambition +to overleap itself, and to fall on the other side. +When Macbeth had gained all his ends, when he +had become Thane of Cawdor and Glamis, and +king, he had no peace, because the succession had +been promised to <span class="locked">Banquo:—</span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No son of mine succeeding. If't be so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For <em>Banquo's</em> issue have I filed my mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For <em>them</em> the gracious Duncan have I murthered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put rancors in the vessel of my peace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">... To make <em>them</em> kings, the seed of Banquo kings!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather than so, come fate into the list,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And champion me to the utterance."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When Napoleon the First was master of nearly +all Europe, he could not be satisfied while England +resisted his power, and Russia had not submitted +to it. So <em>he</em> also <span class="locked">said,—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">361</a></span></p><div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i0q">"Rather than so, come fate into the list,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And champion me to the utterance."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="in0">He also threw away all his immense power because +he could not arrest his own course or limit his own +demands on fate. Such ambitions cannot stop, so +long as there is anything unconquered or unpossessed. +"All this avails me nothing, so long as I +see Mordecai the Jew sitting at the king's gate." +The madness which seizes those greedy of power +is like the passion of the gamester, who is unable +to limit his desire of gain. By this law of insatiable +ambition Providence equalizes destinies, and +power is prevented from being consolidated in a +few hands.</p> + +<p>The motive which actuates these ambitions, and +makes them think that nothing is gained so long as +anything remains to be gained, seems to be a secret +fear that they are in danger of losing all unless +they can obtain more.</p> + +<p>This inward dread appears to have possessed +the hearts of the Southern slaveholders. Since +slavery has been abolished, many of them admit +that they have more content in their present +poverty than they formerly had in their large +possessions. They were then sensitive to every +suggestion which touched their institution. Hence +their persecution of Abolitionists, hence their +cruelty to the slaves themselves,—for cruelty is +often the child of fear. Hence the atrocity of the +slave laws. Hence the desire to secure more and +larger guaranties from the United States for their +institution. Every rumor in the air troubled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">362</a></span> +them. The fact that antislavery opinion existed +at the North, that it was continually increasing, +that a great political party was growing up which +was opposed to their system, that such men as +Garrison and Wendell Phillips existed in Boston, +that Seward and Sumner were in the Senate,—all +this was intolerable. The only way of accounting +for Southern irritability, for Southern +aggressions, for its perpetual demand for more +power, is to be found in this latent terror. They +doubted whether the foundations of their whole +system were not rotten; they feared that it rested +on falsehood and lies; they secretly felt that it +was contrary to the will of God; an instinct in +their souls told them that it was opposed to the +spirit of the age and the laws of progress; and +this fear made them frantic.</p> + +<p>When men's minds are in this state, they are +like the glass toy called a Rupert's bubble. A +single scratch on the surface causes it to fly in +pieces. The scratch on the surface of the slave +system which caused it to rush into secession and +civil war was the attempt of John Brown on +Harper's Ferry. It seemed a trifle, but it indicated +a great deal. It was the first drop of a coming +storm. When one man was able to lay down +his life, in a conflict with their system, with such +courage and nobleness, in a cause not his own, a +shudder ran through the whole South. To what +might this grow? And so they said, "Let us cut<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">363</a></span> +ourselves wholly off from these dreadful fanaticisms, +from these terrible dangers. Let us make a +community of our own, and shut out from it entirely +all antislavery opinion, and live only with +those who think as we do." And so came the end.</p> + +<p>In reviewing Mr. Wilson's work, we have thus +seen how it describes the gradual and simultaneous +growth in the United States of two hostile powers,—one +political, the other moral. The one continued +to accumulate the outward forces which +belong to the organization; the other, the inward +forces which are associated with enthusiasm. The +one added continually to its external strength by +the passage of new laws, the addition of new territory, +the more absolute control of parties, government, +courts, the press, and the street. The other +increased its power by accumulating an intenser +conviction, a clearer knowledge, a firmer faith, and +a more devoted consecration to its cause. The +weapons of the one were force, adroitness, and +worldly interest; those of the other, faith in God, +in man, and in truth.</p> + +<p>Great truths draw to their side noble auxiliaries. +So it was with the antislavery movement. The +heroism, the romance, the eloquence, the best +literature, the grandest forms of religion, the most +generous and purest characters,—all were brought +to it by a sure affinity. As Wordsworth said to +Toussaint l'Ouverture, so it might be declared +<span class="locked">here:—</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">364</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem-container"><div class="poem"> +<span class="i10q">"Thou hast great allies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy friends are exaltations, agonies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And love, and man's unconquerable mind."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The best poets of America, Bryant, Longfellow, +Whittier, Lowell, were in full sympathy with this +cause, and their best poetry was their songs for +freedom. Shall we ever forget the caustic humor +of "Hosea Biglow" and "Birdofredum Sawin"? +And how lofty a flight of inspiration did the same +bard take, when he chanted in verses nobler, as it +seems to us, than anything since Wordsworth's +"Ode to Immortality," the Return of the Heroes +who had wrought salvation for the dear land +"bright beyond compare" among the nations! +What heroism, what tenderness, what stern rebuke, +what noble satire, have attended every event +in this long struggle, from the lyre of Whittier! +Nothing in Campbell excels the ring of some of +his trumpet-calls, nothing in Cowper the pathos of +his elegies over the martyrs of freedom. The +best men and the best women were always to be +found at the meetings of the Antislavery Society. +There were to be seen such upright lawyers as +Ellis Gray Loring and Samuel E. Sewall and John +A. Andrew, such eminent writers as Emerson, +such great preachers as Theodore Parker and +Beecher, such editors as Bryant and Greeley. To +this cause did William Ellery Channing devote +his last years and best thoughts. If the churches +as organizations stood aloof, being only "timidly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">365</a></span> +good," as organizations are apt to be, the purest of +their body were sure to be found in this great +company of latter-day saints.</p> + +<p>Antislavery men had their faults. They were +often unjust to their opponents, though unintentionally +so. They were sometimes narrow and +bitter; and with them, as with all very earnest +people, any difference of opinion as to methods +seemed to involve moral obliquity. But they were +doing the great work of the age,—the most necessary +work of all,—and much might be pardoned +to their passionate love of justice and humanity. +In their meetings could be heard many of the +ablest speakers of the time, and one, the best of +all. He held the silver bow of Apollo, and dreadful +was its clangor when he launched its shafts +against spiritual wickedness in high places. Those +deadly arrows were sometimes misdirected, and +occasionally they struck the good men who were +meaning to do their duty. Such errors, we suppose, +are incident to all who are speaking and acting +in such terrible earnest; in the great day of +accounts many mistakes will have to be rectified. +But surely among the goodly company of apostles +and prophets, and in the noble army of martyrs +there assembled, few will be found more free from +the sins of selfish interest and personal ambition +than those who in Congress, in the pulpit, on the +platform, or with the pen, fought the great battle +of American freedom.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">366</a></span> +One great moral must be drawn from this story +before we close. It demonstrates, by a great historical +proof, that no evil however mighty, no +abuse however deeply rooted, can resist the power +of truth faithfully uttered and steadily applied. +If this great institution of slavery, resting on such +a foundation of enormous pecuniary interest, buttressed +by such powerful supports, fell in the life +of a single generation before the unaided power of +truth, why should we ever despair? Henceforth, +whenever a mighty evil is to be assailed, or a cruel +despotism overthrown, men will look to this history +of the greatness and decadence of slavery; +and, so encouraged, will believe that God is on the +side of justice, and that truth will always prevail +against error.</p> + +<p>But to this we must add, that it is only where +free institutions exist that truth has full power in +such a conflict. We need free speech, a free +press, free schools, and free churches, in order that +truth may have a free course. The great advantage +of a republic like ours is, that it gives to +truth a fair chance in its conflict with error. The +Southern States would long ago have abolished +slavery if it had possessed such institutions. But, +though republican in form, the Southern States +were in reality an oligarchy, in which five millions +of whites and three millions of slaves were governed +by the absolute and irresponsible power of +less than half a million of slaveholders. Freedom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">367</a></span> +was permitted by them except when this institution +was concerned, then it was absolutely forbidden. +No book written against their peculiar institution +could be printed on any Southern press or sold in +any Southern bookstore. No newspaper attacking +slavery was allowed to be circulated through +Southern mails. No public meeting could be held +to discuss the right and wrong of slavery. No +minister could preach against the system. No +man could express, even in conversation, his hostility +to it, without risk of personal injury. An +espionage as sharp, and an inquisition as relentless +as those of Venice or Spain, governed society, at +least in the cotton and sugar States of the Union. +But at the North opinion was free, and therefore +slavery fell. Fisher Ames compressed in an epigram +the evil and good of republican institutions. +"In a monarchy," said he, "we are in a ship, very +comfortable while things go well; but strike a +rock, and we go to the bottom. In a republic, we +are on a raft; our feet are wet, and it is not always +agreeable, but we are safe." It is a lasting proof +of the conservative power of free institutions, that +they were able to uproot such a system as slavery +by creating a moral force capable of putting it +down; that they could carry us through a civil +war, still leaving the press and speech free: that +they stood the strain of a presidential election +without taking from the voters a single right; and +so, at last, conquered a rebellion on so vast a scale<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">368</a></span> +that every European monarchy, with its immense +standing army, would have been powerless in its +presence. Let those Americans who are disposed +to disparage their own institutions bear this history +in mind. We have evils here, and great +ones; but they come at once to the surface, and +therefore can be met and overcome by the power +of intelligent opinion. So it has always been in +the past; so it will be, God aiding us, in the +future. We are about to meet the Centennial +Anniversary of our national life; and on that day +we can look back to our fathers, the founders of +the Republic, and say to them,—"You gave us +the inestimable blessing of free institutions; we +have used those institutions to destroy the only +great evil which you transmitted to us untouched. +We now can send down the Republic to our children, +pure from this stain, and capable of enduring +<span class="smcap smaller">IN SECULA SECULORUM</span>."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">369</a></span></p> + +<p class="p4 center vspace"> +<span class="bold larger">The Riverside Press</span><br /> +<span class="smaller">CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS, U. S. A.<br /> +ELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED BY<br /> +H. O. HOUGHTON AND CO.</span><br /> +</p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h2><a name="FOOTNOTES" id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES</a></h2> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="fnanchor">1</a> See the argument to prove that it would not be difficult to +climb to heaven.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="fnanchor">2</a> Simon Peter's attitude expresses astonishment and perplexity. +He holds out both hands, and seems to say, "It cannot be!" +</p> +<div class="in1h"> +<p> +In Thaddeus we see suspicion, doubt, distrust. "I always suspected +him." +</p> +<p> +Matthew is speaking to Peter and Thomas, his hand held out +toward Jesus: "But I heard him say so." +</p> +<p> +Thomas: "What can it mean? What will be the end?" +</p> +<p> +James: (Hands spread wide apart in astonished perplexity:) +"Is it possible?" +</p> +<p> +Philip has laid both hands on his breast, and leaning toward +Jesus says, "Lord, is it I?" +</p> +<p> +At the other end, one is leaning forward, his hands resting on +the table, to catch the next words; one starting back, confused +and confounded.</p></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="fnanchor">3</a> <i>The North American Review</i>, February, 1881.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="fnanchor">4</a> <i>The Independent</i>, 1882.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="fnanchor">5</a> <i>The North American Review</i>, May, 1883.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="fnanchor">6</a> <i>Buddha and Early Buddhism</i>. Trübner & Co., 1881.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="fnanchor">7</a> <i>Hibbert Lectures</i>, 1882, page 291.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="fnanchor">8</a> A. Réville: <i>Prolégomènes de l'Histoìre des Religions</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p class="inh"><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="fnanchor">9</a> <i>Le Bouddha et sa Religion</i>, page 149, par J. Barthélemy +Saint-Hilaire, Paris.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="fnanchor">10</a> Senart: <i>Essai sur la Légende du Buddha</i>. Paris, 1875.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="fnanchor">11</a> Oldenberg: <i>Buddha, sein Leben, seine Lehre, seine Gemeinde</i>. +Berlin, 1881. This is one of the latest and best books on our +subject.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="fnanchor">12</a> <i>Three Lectures on Buddhism</i>: "Romantic Legend of Buddha," +by Samuel Beal. London, 1875. Eitel.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="fnanchor">13</a> <i>Hibbert Lectures</i>: "Origin and Growth of Buddhism," by T. +W. Rhys Davids. 1881.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="fnanchor">14</a> <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">Ibid.</i>, page 143.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="fnanchor">15</a> <i>Buddhistisch-Christliche Harmonie.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="fnanchor">16</a> P. E. Lucius: <i>Die Therapeuten und ihre Stellung</i>, &c. Strassburg, +1880.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="fnanchor">17</a> <i>The North American Review</i>, October, 1887.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="fnanchor">18</a> <i>The Atlantic Monthly</i>, October, 1874.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="fnanchor">19</a> <i>The Intelligence and Perfectibility of Animals</i>, by C. G. Leroy. +Translated into English in 1870. <i>De l'Instinct et l'Intelligence des +Animaux</i>, par P. Flourens. Paris, 1864.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_20" id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="fnanchor">20</a> It is a mistake to say that the Tasmanians do not use fire.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_21" id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="fnanchor">21</a> <i>The Galaxy</i>, December, 1874.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_22" id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="fnanchor">22</a> Symposium in the <i>North American Review</i>, May, 1879.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_23" id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="fnanchor">23</a> In this brief paper it is not possible even to allude to the +objections which have been brought against the doctrine of final +causes. For these objections, and the answers to them, I would +refer the reader to the work of Janet, before mentioned.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_24" id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="fnanchor">24</a> <i>The Christian Examiner</i>, September, 1864.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_25" id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="fnanchor">25</a> <i>History of Friedrich the Second, called Frederick the Great</i>, +by Thomas Carlyle. In four volumes. Harper and Brothers, +1864.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_26" id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="fnanchor">26</a> + +<span xml:lang="la" lang="la"><span class="in1">"Tu se' lo mio maestro, e 'l mio autore,</span><br /> +<span class="in1q">O degli altri poeti onore e lume."</span></span> +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_27" id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="fnanchor">27</a> <i>Frederick the Great</i>, vol. ii. p. 223.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_28" id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="fnanchor">28</a> <i>The Christian Examiner</i>, November, 1861.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_29" id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="fnanchor">29</a> <i>History of Civilization in England.</i> By Henry Thomas +Buckle. Vols. I. and II. New York: D. Appleton and Company.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_30" id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="fnanchor">30</a> <i>Comm.</i> VI. 11, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">et seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_31" id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="fnanchor">31</a> <i>Germania.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_32" id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="fnanchor">32</a> George Borrow, <i>The Zincali</i>. See also an excellent article +by A. G. Paspati, translated from Modern Greek by Rev. C. Hamlin, +D. D., in <i>Journal of American Oriental Society</i>, 1861.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_33" id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="fnanchor">33</a> See Vol. II. pp. 255–259, American edition.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_34" id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="fnanchor">34</a> <i>The Atlantic Monthly</i>, August, 1881.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="fnanchor">35</a> <i>Life of Voltaire</i>, by James Parton. In two vols. Boston: +Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 1886.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_36" id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="fnanchor">36</a> Voltaire himself, with his acute perception, seems to have +been one of the first to discover the absurdity of the representation +of Tiberius by Tacitus.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_37" id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="fnanchor">37</a> <i>Essai sur les Mœurs</i>, ch. cxxi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_38" id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="fnanchor">38</a> Parton, ii. 549.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_39" id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="fnanchor">39</a> <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">Ibid.</i>, ii. 551.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_40" id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="fnanchor">40</a> <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">Ibid.</i>, i. 232.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_41" id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="fnanchor">41</a> Martin's <i>History of France</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_42" id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="fnanchor">42</a> Parton, i. 461.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_43" id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="fnanchor">43</a> Martin's <i>History of France</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_44" id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="fnanchor">44</a> A sermon preached May 7, 1882.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_45" id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="fnanchor">45</a> <i>The North American Review</i>, May, 1877.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_46" id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="fnanchor">46</a> <i>Harriet Martineau's Autobiography.</i> Edited by Maria Weston +Chapman. 2 vols.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_47" id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="fnanchor">47</a> For some reason she afterward saw fit partially to abandon +this self-denial, and allowed Mrs. Chapman to print any letters +written to herself by Miss Martineau.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_48" id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="fnanchor">48</a> "History of the Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America," +by Henry Wilson, <i>North American Review</i>, January, 1875.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_49" id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="fnanchor">49</a> <i>Congressional Globe</i> for February 6, 1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_50" id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="fnanchor">50</a> Rule adopted January 18, that all petitions relating to slavery +be laid on the table without any action being taken on them.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_51" id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="fnanchor">51</a> February 6, 7, 9, 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_52" id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="fnanchor">52</a> The writer of this article recalls a scene which occurred in his +presence in the United States Senate early in 1851. Mr. Clay was +speaking of the antislavery agitators and of the Free-Soil party, +and said, with much bitterness, "We have put them down,—down,—down, +where they will remain; down to a place so low, +that they can never get up again." John P. Hale, never at a loss +for a reply, immediately arose and said, "The Senator from Kentucky +says that I and my friends have been put down,—down,—down, +where we shall have to stay. It may be so. Indeed, if +the Senator says so, I am afraid it <em>must</em> be so. For, if there is any +good authority on this subject, any man who knows by his own personal +and constant experience what it is to be put down, and to be +kept down, it is the honorable Senator from Kentucky." Mr. +Clay's aspirations had been so often baffled, that this was a very +keen thrust. The writer spoke to Mr. Hale shortly after, and he +said, "I do not think Mr. Clay will forgive me that hit; but I +could not help it. They may have got us down, but they shall +not trample upon us."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_53" id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="fnanchor">53</a> O'Connell, in an album belonging to John Howard Payne, +writes this sentence after his name.</p></div> +</div> + +<div class="transnote"> +<h2>Transcriber's Notes</h2> + +<p>Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant +preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</p> + +<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced +quotation marks retained.</p> + +<p>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_39">39</a>: "Appeltons' Journal" was punctuated that way in the original +book and on the masthead of the Journal itself.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_46">46</a>: "generalties" was spelled that way in the original book +and in some copies of "The Poestaster" itself.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_220">220</a>: Greek transliteration in curly braces was added by Transcriber.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_309">309</a>: Opening quotation mark before "unfailing good sense" was +added by Transcriber.</p> +</div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44628 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/44628-h/images/cover.jpg b/44628-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..af68a31 --- /dev/null +++ b/44628-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/44628-h/images/logo.jpg b/44628-h/images/logo.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2c38dc --- /dev/null +++ b/44628-h/images/logo.jpg |
