NORTH AMERICAN REYJEW. No. CLXI V. JULY, 1854. ART. I. The Moral Sign~/icance of the Crystal Palace: A Sermon,preached first to his own Congregation, and repeated in the Church of the Messiah, on Sunday Evening, October 30, 1853. By REV. H. W. BELLOWS, Pastor of the First Congregational Society in the City of New York. New York. (Published by Request of the Government of the Crystal Palace.) G. P. Putnam & Co. 1853. THE great continents of truth have been for the most part mapped out and explored. There remains the vast ocean of speculation, sweeping around the firm continents, and chal- lenging adventure. Shifting as are the waves and currents of this sea, it has calm depths of meditation, from which innu- merable islands of coral grow up, as solid as the old territories of human thought, and lift their luxuriant crests into clear sunshine. A hundred mariners may have caught a glimpse of these, or may have run close alongside and recorded some description of them; but no one of them may have landed, and taken the pains to explore mount and cape, stream and cave and shaded recess. Such an island has been distinctly touched upon, in the discourse which introduces and illustrates the train of thought now proposed. The whole sermon broadly and beauti- fully evolving the union of man with man, of man with VOL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 1 2 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, nature, and of man with God, as taught by the Worlds Fair demands a thoughtful perusal. But we have to do, now, only with the following passage The view of the Exhibition unites man to God, not only by awa- kening sentiments of humility, wonder, gratitude, and praise, but also by illustrating, in an affecting and emphatic manner, the partnership of God with men, and men with God. Man is not only a partaker in the Divine nature, but a partner in Gods business. l~iy Father worketh hitherto, said our Saviour, and I work. Heavenly capital and earthly labor compose the firm in Gods providence. Nature is the clay, man is the tool. God made them both; and his will unites them in the production of that more finished nature we name Art. In the end, all ihings are of God, for marble and sculptor, pigment and painter, ore and founder, woof and weaver, materials and skill, opportunity and genius, are all of Him, and through Him, and to Him; but looked at in the wiser and more practical way of distribution, Gods part and mans part, in the great plan of Providence, are capable of being dis- criminated, and the satisfaction of a voluntary partnership in a common work may be noted and enjoyed. And surely nothing is more striking, in an exhibition like the present, than the evidence afforded of the aptness of nature to mans wants, and the aptness of man to natures development and use. How palpable the profound design entertained by Providence, of awakening and educating mans soul through the necessity under which he lies of subduing and regulating the ma- terial world! When we remember that there is nothing in science and art which is not a product of mans mind and will operating on crude matter, and that no invention is anything but a discov- ery, an adaptation that previously existed, no accommodation of any substance, more than the use of an original fitness, we begin to catch the glorious and affecting harmony existing between matter and mind, the earth and man, or Gods providence ~nd mans labor. Take the two materials of which the Crystal Palace is made, iron and glass. Can any substances be less fitted to human use, for purposes of strength and transparency, than ore and sand? They bear no resem- blance in appearance, or even in qualities, to the products of which they form the base. But does any one the less doubt that iron and glass are the final cause of ore and sand, and that God intended that human genius should discover and apply them to the uses they so perfectly serve? What can be less like a regulated power, practicable in use and universal in application, than steam? or less seizable and govern- able than electricity? or more intractable and remote from usefulness 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 3 than the elastic gum of Para? Yet is man to be esteemed the sole patentee of the steam-engine, the absolute creator of the magnetic tele- graph, the unassisted contriver of the uses of India-rubber? Have not these various elements and substances been patiently seeking their nat- ural and appropriate ends; knocking at the door of the human mind to unlock their passages to usefulness; and vindicating in their vast tri- umphs not more the genius of man than the beneficence and foreordina- tion of God? Is not nature full of undiscovered springs of health, wealth, usefulness, all waiting the willow-wand of a more delicate observation to point tremblingly to their source, and open it to their proprietors and lords, the human race? In the divine sympathy or primordial corre- lation of nature and man, of divine laws and human uses of them, of material elements and mental appropriation or accommodation of them, of nature and humanity, we behold the grandest and most glorious proof of the being of that God, that wonderful Designer, whose plan, as it opens, shows an infinite forecast, and of the patience, wis- dom, benevolence, of that Providence, which keeps his own gifts half hidden, half revealed, that they may be received with the best advan- tage of his creatures, while he strictly subordinates the material world to the spiritual discipline and moral victory of his rational offspring. This extract is a coast-wise, yet commanding, view of the island of thought, whereon we have landed, to enjoy a ramble in search of nutritious fruits and fresh scenery, rather than to institute a scientific exploration. The useful arts, more than the fine, will be kept in mind, the former having a more im- mediate interest for men, particularly in a Crusoe adventure. Cowpers expression of piety and poetry, God made the country and man made the town, has passed into a doc- trine, like many other utterances of profound feeling. The words are often quoted to express a love for nature, and an aversion to the haunts of pride and misery; but the language, if strictly taken, implies that the Creator had no purpose that the materials he has supplied should be fashioned into beauti- ful villages and splendid cities; that he gave man no instinct or skill so to use them, and laid upon him no such necessity; and that, so employed, the materials exhibit no new beauty and fitness, or, if they do, that the glory of it belongs to man, not to his Maker. Natural Theology has taken it for granted, that its inquiries are limited to unmodified nature; and, ac- cordingly, the theologian, like an Indian or bison, keeps him- 4 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, self carefully beyond the borders of civilization; he sees noth- ing Divine in his mechanical surroundings; he ascends to the stars, or flees to the uttermost parts of the sea, whenever he would illustrate the attributes of the Infinite One. The Bridgewater Treatise on the Adaptation of the External World to Man, is the nearest approach to a formal statement of the subject in hand; but the author discourses of climate, season, soil, grain, and raw material, with reference to the necessities, not the instincts and genius, of man; he beholds Divine wisdom in the rough substance, rather than in the beautiful product. In various books are paragraphs and allu- sions which more or less vaguely recognize the divine in Art, but nothing, probably, more direct, unless it be a partial exception in Ruskins Modern Painters. Art, or some work of art, is frequently called divine, in the classic sense, how- ever, of beautiful only. It is sometimes said, that Art is a part of Nature, and a higher nature, words that look towards the shore of thought on which we have set foot. But the truth is not followed in its leadings. It seems to have been assumed that the Great Artist had nothing but a general and indefinite design in the creation of finite artists and arti- sans, and in the endowment of matter with susceptibilities of reconstruction into endless forms of use and elegance. It appears to have been inferred, that whatever man transforms, by his divinely received wisdom, to other shapes, ceases to be the work of the Almighty, and thenceforth bears less, instead of frequently more, of the impress of His hand. This prevailing sentiment is manifested in many ways. The stereotyped question of village lyceums, whether the works of Nature are more wonderful than those of Art, is sur- rendered, in the end, to the affirmative, the young disputants yielding to an amiable candor, or to an unconscious fear that Dame Nature, like other dames, may somehow punish a seem- ing undervaluation of her dignity. Fugitives from the sum- mer disagrecablenesses of towns, and they who are driven forth by fashion, laud the country at the expense of the city, in a threadbare litany of praise, whether or not they have any true sympathy with nature. A mixture of the artificial and natural in wild scenery is always a lucky text for cant sentimentality. 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. The tourist, at Niagara or the Hudson Highlands, wastes himself in echoed lamentations over a scene of grandeur des- ecrated (this is the inevitable word) by the hand of mane Wordsworth, in a string of sonnets, more melancholy than they were intended to be, bemoans the advent of railroads in the North of England. No rhapsodist can tell us too often about the temple of Nature, with its dome of sky, and music of winds and waves. The versifier, as a matter of business, deals in sunsets, stars, and dew, and operates in roses and moonlight; he, or she, is apt to think, with the Arabian critic, that palm-trees, fountains, and moonlight cannot be introduced too frequently into good poetry. All classes of people accept it as a duty to extol nature, and to disparage art in the comparison, as if it were doing God ser- vice. We hear, in prose and verse, of Divine purpose in the eye, the hand, and in the motions and powers of each; but not in the products resulting therefrom. Lessons of creative forethought are drawn from the shell, the honey-comb, the flower, seldom or never from the picture, implement, gar- ment, book, and building. We see something of Gods glory in the violet, snow-flake, cataract, and sun; we fail to see it in the instruments which reveal the minute beauty, or use the wonderful power, of these objects. We behold it in the ores, the fire and sand, but are too deaf to hear it in the musical, graceful result brought forth from those formless materials, a heavenly-sounding bell. On the bells of the horses shall be Holiness to the Lord inscribed; and it will be, not only in the sense that religion shall consecrate everything, but also that in everything the Most High shall be habitually seen. Were sincere devotion ever, and harmless sentiment only, the fruit of this partiality for that which is strictly natural, it might be passed by. But when this tendency circumscribes the sympathies of natural piety itself; when it runs into affec- tation and sentimental worship; when it nourishes in man a proud self-felicitation over his works, as if they were no part of the universal plan, and he had accomplished them by his own unaided wisdom; or when, on the other hand, it leads him to despise the success of his own species, when, in fine, it expels the God of nature from the haunts and habitations 1* 6 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, of his rational creatures, it is time to unfold a thought which has occurred to many minds, in the shape of an unde- veloped suggestion. Human art attests the Supreme Intelligence by disclosing, in the first place, the various susceptibilities of use and beauty inherent in every form of matter. Everything in nature fulfils one or more purposes, in its original state. Thus a cloud is a curtain of shade, a shield against frost, a cistern of showers, and a vision of glory. But every object, on the earth at least, seems invested with another set of qualities for art, of equal, or higher, profit and pleasure. The palm-tree is not only good for fruit, shade, and lordly beauty; it also yields fuel, wine, oil, flax, flour, sugar, salt, thread, utensils, weapons, in fact, all things needed in a bar- barous condition of society. Such reserved qualities of matter are sometimes the simplest change of use, not of form, as when straw is woven into hats; sometimes the useful part is elimi- nated from the other components, as the fibres of flax; in other instances, a combination of substances creates a quality not to be found in any one of the ingredients, for example, the explosiveness of gunpowder, and the transparency of glass. The artificial value is, in some cases, apparent, as in the pearl-shell, ready to be cut for ornament; in others, it is half concealed1 as in the veins of rough marble and agate; in others, it is wholly hidden, as the medicinal properties of plants; in still other instances, both the substance and its qualities are, like electricity, themselves hidden, and revealed only in their effects. We can never be sure that we have reached the best, or the last, use that can be made of any- thing. The inclosing of complex purposes in more simple ones, is apparently a universal rule of creation. Man but poorly imitates this, when he conceals a slender fishing-rod, or a defensive weapon, in a walking-stick, or so inflates a mat- tress that it may be used as a life-boat. Manifold blessing, exhaustless beauty, is the motto of Nature. Every product of hers is a cocoa-nut, wherein progressive discovery finds the cup of a new use beneath the oakum exterior of a present one, and, within the second use, the nutritious meat of another, and, within the third, the sweet milk of a fourth service and 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 7 joy. The undisguised fairness and benefits of the material world are the story it tells to the childhood of the human race, a Pilgrims Progress or Faerie Queene, an allegory that veils many spiritual and material meanings. Mans art is a prosecution of Gods designs as truly as the work of the coral polyp is, the difference being in favor of the former, as will yet be shown. It is Natures earthly consummation of her womanly expectations, when she is led forth as mans bride, sparkling in her polished gems, blushing in her crimson dyes, delicately fair in statue and column, smiling in the lus- tre of silver and gold, and crowned with the flowers of deco- rative skill. To illustrate the theme in a homely way, which may asso- ciate it with the daily thoughts of men, let us walk the street, approach a house, and enter a parlor. The point is, that the artificially disclosed qualities of matter have an equal, fre- quently a higher, utility and charm, than the materials in a natural condition. The pavement on which we tread was part of a shapeless mass of stone, cropping out from some hill-side. As one fea- ture of a picturesque scene, breaking up the monotony of smoothly sloping ground, contrasting its solidity with the light grace of tree and stream, and its neutral color with the unvaried green around, it would have reminded us of the Makers wisdom. New, clearer signs of his forethought are revealed, however, when the rock is quarried, and we find that, by the forces in operation many ages since, the stone was cleft into thin, smooth plates, and even cut by Nature into perfect parallelograms. We pause before a suburban villa. The wood, of which the house is composed, was beau- tiful and serviceable in its native state. Not to mention the vital necessity of its chemical influence, a tree is a marvel of strength and grace; it is a servant of man, patiently standing and holding out its living baskets of fruit, and holding up its regal canopy; it is a palace of the birds, domed, windowed, and draperied, for their abode. But the trees have hidden capabilities for human habitations; they can be cut into shin- ing smoothness, put together into combined strength, carved into ornamental shapes, the whole process resulting in an arti 8 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [April, ficial growth, more varied and useful, and equally symmefrical. In the Gothic order, the curving lines of native beauty are pre- served; in other styles, the rectangular form, with its severer moral significance, is substituted. And the compactness and fine texture of the tree are more evident, now that it is trans- formed; the rough-bound book is opened; we read its fair pages, and wonder that Nature has helped us to build our roomy homes out of mere gases and liquids. The frail tene- ment, when completed by a fair coating, which is made from gross earths and ores, and may be mixed to any shade which the most fastidious fancy may choose, seems converted to marble, or freestone, or even to a huge prism of gray basalt, or an opaque crystal of yellow topaz. Nay, its connection with the gross earth is out off, and its terresfrial nature laid aside; it is associated with the heaven of home, and the tall column and casing are glorified shapes, when confrasted with the rough body of a tree, rooted in the ground. And the same pleasure, in view of an imagined change from a lower to a higher stage of existence, is felt when the material is brick or stone; the inorganic clay, or rock, appears to be gifted with life, and to be growing up, day by day, into form; it is raised from dust and darkness, to enjoy a limited immortality in the sunlight. There are sermons in stone buildings, books in bricks, and good in everything. All needful transfigurations of substance are but little lower than angelic. And, although it be a change to less external beauty, yet the higher human purpose served lends a higher beauty; so that an unsightly telegraph- pole may be more noble than the free from which it was formed, and a city may be grander than a forest. It is no new sentiment that the loveliness of a landscape is less than that of the human virtues its soil may nourish, and that the glory of the sea is not so great as that of the commerce which floats upon it. The universe is not simply a gallery of paint- ings, for our diversion; it is a great school of design, of indus- fry, and of holiness, for the development of souls. Evidently, the final combination of many materials in a finished dwelling entered into the plan of creation; qualities were put into matter for this precise end, among others. With 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 9 this faith, we will not loiter at the porch of the villa, but enter it. The door-lock has an elasticity, polish, and power, that were not in rough ore, and were received in the process of manufacture. We look, perhaps, through a hall window, stained with gold-color, and behold Nature sublimated to fairy- land or the luminous loveliness of paradise; the glaziers mere mechanic art has secured The light that never was on sea and land, The consecration and the poets dream We tread upon a carpet, the fibres and hues whereof were once interesting as the clothing of sheep, the scarlet of cochi- neal insects, and the various colors of chemical production; nevertheless, the combining of these in a fabric of fair pattern and mossy surface, to be pressed by the sovereign step of civ- ilization, creates for the humble substances a beauty as royal as that of a flowery field, and a dignity as great as that of a courtiers mantle spread in the pathway of a queen. All the kingdoms of nature, the animal, vegetable, and mineral, lend their confributions to a floor-carpet, be it neither Wilton nor Axminster, only a cheap double-ply; all the fairies brought their gifts in the natal hour of its invention, though the hag of ruinous exfravagance, instead of the witch of good fortune, may have flung her shoe after it. The wall and wall-paper were originally sand, lime, cotton, and earths; now, mingled, smoothed to a surface delicate as the lilys, or starred with constellated patterns, and lit with reflected sunshine or the soft light of lamps, our rooms inclose us around in a narrower sky, fair as a white-veiled heaven suffused with moonlight. The tables, chairs, and the like, rugged Satyrs of the forest, changed to slender Graces, exhibit beautiful whirlpools, rapids, and currents, in the richly tinted graining, and present a polished face that mirrors the rosy hand resting upon it, or winks back the cheerful fire-light. The glass lamp-shades, prism-pendents, and window-panes, were sand and potash, or soda, apparently the most worthless of all substances; here, they are fused into an impermeable, transparent medium, which is a shield against wind and rain, a straightened rain- bow for mantel ornament, a globe of unchangeable vapor around the lamp, or, coated with mercury, rendering to Nature 10 A NATURAL ThEOLOGY OF ART. [July, an image of herself, and doubling all spaces to the liberty- loving eye. In glass, art has given us what creation has not, solid air, of any required form and dimensions, and insolu- ble. Neither ice nor crystal could supply its place. A grate or stove, rather than a subterranean furnace, may be supposed to warm this imagined house. It was not enough that the bright creature, fire, once the happiest of the social circle, as it danced freely on a broad, open hearth, received the stone of coal, when it asked for the bread of wood. It was imprisoned a long time in stoves, and now is condemned to the Plutonic region of the cellar, with nothing to commemo- rate its departure except the small open grave or vault of a register. We ignore so summary a disposal of an old friend; and, inasmuch as the obsolete fireplace is but a dim tradition of the past, the poetry and theology of art must be sought for in the stove, notwithstanding it has been vilified as a red-hot demon. A stove, or a grate, is at first a seemingly rotten stone; next, a rude mass of metal; then, by the ingenious art of casting, in a variety of sand which appears to have been expressly provided for the purpose, it is moulded into elabo- rate figures. The brown, crumbling ore grows, blooms, and ripens into vines, flowers, and fruits of iron. It is an unfold- ing of one intent of Nature, the susceptibility certifying the intent. Of embroidered mats and ottomans, the same can hardly be said. Woollen doves and merino roses may be an improve- ment on the tangled and soiled garment of the sheep; but the occupation is so utterly mechanical and so slightly useful, that woman s needle thus employed is as worthless as the famous Cleopafras Needle. Damask curtains, or any tissues of silk, are not open to a like objection. The silk-worm, with no im- provable intellect, spins the silver fibre, subtile as a ray of light, as if with conscious reference to the use man will make of it; and man spins it as a remunerative trade. In designing the cocoon, the Creator has emphatically recognized human in- dusfry as c& iperative with him; his purpose is silently uttered, yet as plainly as when he said to Moses, Thou shalt make the tabernacle with curtains of fine-twined linen, and blue and purple and scarlet. 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 11 Musical instruments, pictures, and books, which, of some sort, dignify almost every American home, are far in advance of everything that has been mentioned, in illustrating the di- vinity of art. Music is the language of unfathomable joy, grief, and aspiration, and is thus akin to the infinite and divine. Further, in the musical instrument man employs the mathe- matics and harmonies by which the universe was made; he imprisons the spirit of melody, or of harmony, in the vibrating string and tube; and for this he has an instinct, as truly as the spider has to ensnare a humming fly in a harp of cobweb. Nowhere in nature is there a concord of sweet sounds equal to that produced by artificial means; wood, metal, and dried sinew must conspire with mind and hand, before Nature can do justice to her own genius; and, certainly, Art alone can bring out the splendid nature of the human voice. And the painting, next, that hangs on the wall, is also a higher nature; the scattered perfections of the world are brought together in that ideal which every picture is, if it be not a servile copy of the outward; it has the essence of a landscape, with all the tons of bulk and leagues of distance left out; and, unlike its original, it is no growth of years and ages, but a quick Creation, minted in the golden moods Of sovereign artists. And the statue if such an immortal presence inhabits the abode we have entered in fancy is chiselled from a sub- stance, a frangible flesh, which is wonderfully prepared, by the God of all beauty, for this purpose; under the touch of genius, it becomes form exalted and transfigured by the in- breathed soul of noble thought; it is character, passion, or feeling, petrified, spirit crystallized. Last of all, the book on the table is the most valuable end by the simplest means ever obtained. Once it was cotton and straw; and the ink, which presents to us the thought of man and the Word of God, was but the oil of flax-seed and the soot of burnt resin. Converted into a volume, these cheap substances embalm the precious life-blood of master-spirits. Nay, the dead live in them, and the living are ubiquitous. In this partial survey of an ordinary residence and drawing- room, omitting, as it does, all notice of landscape-gardening, 12 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, which is but painting with actual grass, rocks, and trees, or a sculpturing of ground and frees, instead of marble, the point aimed at is, not so much that Art is always more excellent than Nature, as that it entered largely into the plan of crea- lion, and is a development of it. And yet, what, in native shapes, unless it be a few select objects, such as the human body, the horse, some kinds of fruit, or the waves of the sea, offers a more exquisite union of utility and beauty than these many productions of man? For the most part, the Almighty Artist has given us beautifully constructed materials, instead of beautiful and finished structures. Agents and materials, on these he has lavished his creative skill; seldom does he himself directly accomplish a complete result. His most wonderful works are the products of a secondary agency, in- stinct, which operates under a law of necessity. The bee itself, with all its machinery of nerves and muscles, is not so admirable as the honey-comb it is empowered to build. The former is only an instrument of its Maker, the latter is the perfected result. And had he made an ornate cottage, as well as man and wood and stone, our wonder at Nature would have risen to an eternal, devout surprise. But, as will yet be argued, this surprise should none the less be occasioned by that art which is a more impressive evidence of far-seeing Wisdom, Power, and Goodness, than a created eye, hand, or flower. The things that commonly remind us of divine perfection are indeed marvellous beyond the capacity of language to utter. To those who are verily awakened to the great worlds of truth and beauty, the universe daily becomes a sublimer miracle. Not a summer cloud sleeps in the blue air, or un- folds its pure fulness, or melts in the distance, but they are dissolved in a luxury of contemplation, and think of Him who spreads above us the glory of cloud-land, wherever we are, and when all around us is tamely wearisome. Not a landscape lies dreaming in the sunshine, and slowly expands itself to the passing gaze, but they are intoxicated with a more fiery sense of beauty, until their vision often swims with tears of gratitude for existence, and the heart is ready to break with a weight of blessedness. Their souls overflow with the glory of the sum of things. Every flower that looks up, and every 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 13 star that looks down, smiles to them the smile of God; and every stream that dimples away, or thistle-seed that floats in the noontide, bears them onward to limitless seas of thought and joy. And yet everlasting Truth, Goodness, and Beauty, as discovered in human art, are amazement added to amaze- ment, evidence multiplied into intenser evidence. That a thing has many complex values and perfections concealed in more simple ones, hidden, perhaps, since the foundation of the world, and just revealed by mans ingenuity, is something the more godlike, as it implies more of infinite resource and reason. But one class of objects a house and furniture has been selected. These are so familiar that they cease to be wonderful; yet so familiar, that, if once beheld in a divine light, they will, as readily as the stars, daily remind us of Him who stoops to paint the insects wing, And wheels His throne upon the rolling worlds. Such an habitual view of art surrounds us, at home, with tokens of omnipresent Wisdom. It lends dignity to the com- monest objects the eye may rest upon; it introduces the God of nature, of the storm and sunshine, of the mountain, the forest, and the sea, to the hearths of men; it gives freshness and significance to in-door scenery, and renders everything an exponent of the universe. The wall, the table, the lamp, to which an infant reaches forth its tiny hand in delighted curi- osity, may likewise become ever new and wonderful to the grown-up man. The healthy condition of the soul is one of eternal youth, enthusiasm, and responsiveness to a multiform creation. It should be a divine universe, whether modified by art or not, unveiling itself in gloom and splendor, in auroral fire-light and many-tinted shadow, full of hope and full of awe, to a young, melodious, pious heart, a heart that never grows old. The field of illustration is, of course, an endless one. Ships, vehicles, and bridges might be referred to, and all trades drawn upon. Improvements in agriculture and horticulture might be considered. Nature never works so well in vegetation as when she unites with the industry of man; and not only are her flowers and fruits perfected by his skill, it brings forth num voL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 2 14 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, berless new varieties of sweetness and bloom. The Voice that evoked the earth continually and silently declares, Let the earth bring forth more abundantly through created intelli- gence; and the commission lies upon all the sons of the first gardener, to make the world an Eden, and to dress it and keep it. Arable land prophesied grain-crops, and these pre- dicted reaping-machines. Axes were foretold by frees, mills by cascades, railroads by levels and chasms, and steam-ships by oceans. The extreme malleability of gold was a promise of gold-leaf and gilding, and the ductility of iron and copper, together with the swiftness of electricity and its partiality to certain conductors, was creations certificate of telegraphs. Why should gold have been made susceptible of being beaten into leaves the thousandth of an inch in thickness, and of be- ing drawn into a fineness that seems fabulous? Natures hints none of them, perhaps, half understood and applied as yet are decrees. Modern invention furnishes the most striking examples in~ point. Man puts into a machine something of the intelligence which the All-Wise has put in him. Proverbially, the power- press appears to be gifted with reason. And nowhere in na- ture, except it be in the human body, do we find mechanical principles so admirably combined as in the steam-engine. It was left for man to find one principle here, another there, and to bring together many divinely-appointed laws of matter, by his invention. Art elicits, likewise, the powerful elements and forces of nature. What was the palpable use of magnet- ism, before it pointed its finger to the north, or of electro-mag- netism, before it thought and spoke telegraphically? What the manifest benefit of steam, until it was harnessed? What the apparent work of sunlight, before it turned artist? Human genius summons forth the elements which, in their unseen, omnipresent energy, represent to us the Almighty Spirit, and thus doubly reveal God in art; it shows the amazing force of ethereal, impalpable forms of matter over those which are gross, the supremacy of the invisible above the visible. And, in the exercise of his derived creatorship, man further represents his Maker, by giving to such forces a body of mech- anism. Metals, water, acid, are the flesh and blood of the 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 15 genii of nature, electricity and steam; they wait for their incarnation in muscles of iron and sinews of steel. The Worlds Fairs, of the last three years, need only to be mentioned, to flash before the mind all examples of the glory and divinity of art in one bewildering view. The Crystal Palaces are the topmost, magnificent flowers of the stnrdy tree of industry, the aloes of many centuries, grandly bloom- ing at last, the icy crowns that glorify the mountain of the worlds accumulated labors. These scenes of wonder and splendor can be best glanced at through the eyes of Elizabeth Browning; in her description, we see that poetry brings to art, as to inanimate nature, its own vitality, and finds no mere manufacture, but only natural growth and life. Her poetry identifies nature and art, and is good philosophy and theology. Gold is not woven into brocade; it swims to the surface of the silk, she says, and curdles to fair patterns. The steam- ship a small model suggesting it is not propelled; it crushes down the brine, like a blind Jove, who feels his way with thunder. And the vases and carvings, these are not moulded and cut; Nature herself has brought them forth. You will not match this porcelain! One might think the clay Retained in it the larv~n of the flowers, They bud so, round the cup, the old spring way. Nor you these carven woods, where birds in bowers, With twisting snakes and climbing Cupids, play. Above all, she affirms, in defending recent artists from the exclusive claims set up for the old, that nature includes Raffael, as we know, not Raffael nature. Yes, the true artist is a brother of the invisible laws which portray silver forests on the frosted pane, finely touch the tinted flower, and blend pure colors in a sweet, living face. In the scheme of creation there were painters, as well as objects to be painted, ploughs, no less than soil to be ploughed. The Author of all things supplied the material, strength, instinct, and genius. David calls on men to praise Him with stringed instruments and organs; we might reverently add, Praise Him with pic- tures, spades, and looms. Sir Godfrey Kneller declared: When I paint, I consider it as one way at least of offering devotions to my Maker, by exercising the talent his goodness 16 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, has graciously blessed me with. Francis I., rebuked by his ,courtiers for his agitation at the death of Leonardo da Vinci, exclaimed: I can make a nobleman, but God Almighty alone can make an artist. We come thus to the other division of the subject, namely, the powers and impulses of created mind, in connection with the properties of matter now adverted to. The latter would have been enough to make art divine, though man had been constituted and guided by some spontaneous force, co-working with the Creator; for still the quality of a thing would have pointed out its use. And though man be Heavens crowning work, yet the argument for the Divine existence and perfec- lions drawn from his amazing physical constitution is not so strong as that which may be grounded in the endless capabil- ities of improved reconstruction to be found in every form of matter. The evidences of design and contrivance are far more numerous and exalted in a handful of mere earth suscep- tible as its ingredients are of a thousand chemical or artificial transformations to as many uses than in a human hand itself, endowed with a hundred barely mechanical motions. The whole argument from design is somewhat out of fash- ion, as we are well aware. Many affect to despise, or are taught to despise, the Bridgewater style of reasoning. The peerless author of In Memoriam writes: I found Him not in world or sun, Or eagles wing, or insects eye; Nor through the questions men may try, The petty cohwehs we have spun. In truth, the thoughts now presented are intended not so much to corroborate the Divine existence as to enhance our conception of the Divine glory, and to set forth the true glory of all art. Doubtless it is necessary to reason from our moral nature to establish the being of a personal First Cause. But the common conviction, founded on sensible evidences of supreme skill, is enough for common sense. The transcen- dental notion that mans soul contains everything, that the traveller finds only what he brings, that he must carry Na- ples with him if he would see Naples, may be applied to I Atheism and to Pantheism itself; we must carry God with us 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 17 if we would see him in his works and in art. He who cher- ishes not the Presence in his heart, will not see the hand- writing of a Heavenly Father in anything. The human mind, and the human body, that engine of living steel and throbbing marble, alike the workshop and the palace of the soul, are the highest known examples of crea- tive wisdom. These, with the mysterious principle of life, are infinitely beyond the reach of mans skill. Their wonder- ful constitution is often made a subject of discourse. Inva- riably, however, the whole man is taken in pieces, to show his amazing nature; the mind alone, or the body alone, is selected, and then one or another separate part or function thereof: Much is said of the eye and hand, the internal mechanism and outward beauty of the body, nothing of its entire, com- plex, harmonious fitness for the production of useful and beautiful things. Much is said of powers of reason, calcula- tion, imagination, nothing of the grand, combined action of intellect and soul, as in the sphere of art. In all thinking, the whole mind is brought into play, although one faculty be chiefly exercised; in all practical art, much, if not all, of the body and mind is called into activity. The complete inter- dependence of the spiritual and physical natures, and of every part of each, the united working of the total man, is the greatest perfection of his being; for it is the sum of all his perfections. What knowledge, reason, imagination, heart, educated senses, manipulation, various energies, are employed, unconsciously and simultaneously, in working out a picture or a machine; for a great heart even has been sometimes expended in a painting or an invention! And this crowning wonder of man, his thousand creative resources directed to one end, his numberless activities conspiring together, this can only be seen in the product, not by any dissection of the soul and of its corporeal instrument. One may hunt through flesh and spirit, yet never find this final, creative energy, which grows out of the oneness of all energies. Thus it is not so much in the worker as in his work that we best discover his perfection, and that of his Maker. Tell me what the man can do, not what he is, said Napoleon. The answer to such a demand concerning the human consti 18 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, tution most truly decides what it is. Phrenology has given to the world a symbolical chart, with representations of each organ inclosed in the several compartments of the head ; in one, a painter at his easel; in another, two hungry men at dinner; in another, a bridal party at the altar; and so, a singer with a harp, a chemist with his crucibles. And, not unlike this amusing chart, a human figure, painted from head to foot with pictures of all the arts, would be a better dissection than any anatomical drawings can bring to the illustration of evi- dences of creative design. Man himself is more fully laid open in the study of a steam-ship than in the examination of any bones, literal or metaphysical, just as the powers of mind are better seen in a canto of Milton than in any classification of mental philosophy. Throwing out of view our moral na- ture, and making a syllogism of the argument Man is best I comprehended in his works; the Creator best in man; there- fore the Creator best in the works of man. Moreover, the Supreme Wisdom is thus set forth more worthily, as well as more clearly. It is worthier to have made a maker, than simply a mind, or a body, a plant, a jewel, or a world. It is a purposing of myriad designs through a designer. It is diviner to create a honey-bee than honey, though it be making honey by means of bees. To adopt Paleys illustration, let it be supposed that Ericsson had in- vented a machine which would itself have invented caloric engines and a thousand other novelties of genius and inge- nuity; all the glory of every piece of mechanism so contrived or made would fitly belong to him. A certain necessity in mans work, as will yet be seen, renders the illustration complete. And here may be noticed the familiar sense in which the Creator is both more worthily and more clearly reflected in art than in his own immediate products. Man, as a finite crea~ tor, images the Infinite one; he has, in his poor degree, the same reason, imagination, perception of beauty and fitness, and the same power of choice. As one who can originate and execute a design, who can appreciate and apply the eternal rules of order, proportion, and excellence by which the worlds were made, he is a dun miniature of the great Originator. 1854.J A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 19 A drop of water mirrors the illimitable heavens, and so does the rational creature image the Eternal Reason. It is the height of all perfections to give being to the same perfections in kind, however different in measure. Indeed, were it not for the analogy between the human and the Divine artist, we might never have been able to apprehend the Creator at all. Passing from the capabilities of man, we find that he has strong instincts and motives pointing to art. So imperative are these, we must recognize every human work, that has not a wrong purpose, as verily, though indirectly, the work of the Great Cause, everything from the highest to the lowest transformations of nature. The absurd idea that circum- stances and wants have developed life from simple to com- plex organisms, from monads to men and birds, that ex- ternal necessities gave gradual protrusion and shape to arm, finger, or wing, is quite rational when applied to man~s artificial extensions of himself. A house, in its essential parts, is as much an outgrowth of man, as the shell is of a fish; and so far as the tenement is conformed to his national, sec- tional, or individual need and taste, it is his generic and spe- cific shell. Magnifying-glasses, to help imperfect vision, were as truly intended by Nature, as that her eagles should be far- sighted. She claims dress as her own invention, when she makes civilized people delicately surfaced like flowers, and wild men furred like apes. The external inducements of art are too plain to excuse remark. There is no useful thing, or beautiful even, that is not an attempt of creations lord to bring the outward world into harmony with himself. He is thrown into the world, a drifting, tender creature, like a young bar- nacle, and must attach himself to the soil, and surround himself with his crustaceous covering. Nay, the soft mollusk, man, having progressed far beyond the mud cabin of a cirriped, re- joices in a civilization more like the wonderful beauty of a nautilus, with its various apparatus, and sails of gauze. But it is an inner necessity, no less than an outward one, to construct, to shape, to perfect. The child must have a hammer and knife, or, if he have toys, he can never arrange them satisfactorily; and whenever, in after-life, the disposition to do, to make, ceases, it is because some form of evil over- 20 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, powers it. And as to the indolent animalism of savage na- tions, nothing else than the roving habit induced by the free- dom and loneliness of a thinly populated counfry overcomes the impulses of art. So far as his wandering life favored it, the aboriginal of this country had his arts, many of them ex- quisitely adapted to the ends proposed. Had half a million of Indians, ages ago, been restricted to Manhattan Island, as their only home, doubtless they would have built up a sort of metropolis, with an extensive trade and a solid civilization. In truth, it is life itself, rather than an instinct, to make and create. Abilities, put in motion, must produce or destroy. Man is the engine, intuitions and rules the track, life the steam; he must work away and play away, on or off the track. The proverbial American propensity to whittle is but an excess of irrepressible vitality, in conjunction with the temptations of a shingle architecture and the various necessities of a new country; it is not an accidental peculiarity. We do not hes- itate, in loose language, to call any artificial thing very natural, in its circumstances; all that is human appears quite inevita- ble, to some moods of mind. The Mormon temple, absurd as it seemed, was but an aerolite thrown westward by the fiery, superabundant energy of the nation. The Egyptian pyramids are the great crystals, formed in the high-tide life of that land. The old Gothic structures of Europe are the stalagmites and stalactites which grew in the cavernous gloom of the Dark Ages. The London Crystal Palace was its own Koh-i-noor diamond among edifices; or, possibly, such mountains of glass are the chemical product of the melting together of sand-like multitudes of men, mixed with the fixed alkali of love, not with the acid of hate. The large American hotels, everywhere rising, are the splendid icebergs suddenly brought upon us by the currents of travel and migration, and sweeping down from the cold arctic of wealth to summer seas of common sympathy and use. Washington Monuments are the necessary craters for the volcano of national glory. Broadway, or Washington Street, or Chestnut Street, is a deep strait for a roaring gulf- stream of Cisatlantic life; vehicles are the drifted shells of many hues, silks the beautiful sea-weed, and brick buildings the red, marble the white, ever-growing coral-rocks. Reaping- 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 21 machines are patent whirlwinds. Bowie-knives are the long thorns put forth by the human crab-apple tree, before it is re- claimed to sweetness by cultivation. All is life and growth in the universe, forces seeking form. Books, statues, pic- tures, are well called children of the brain; they are unavoid- able offspring of it, and of responsible character. The individ- ual instinct of artist or artisan, if it be the predominant trait, is inextinguishable, even his speciality of excellence in his branch of art is so too. The farm-boy must be a Chantrey; the Quaker child, a West. The impulse may be carried into political, commercial, or professional life, or may be lifted into a higher sphere, so as to expend itself in spiritual reconstruc- tions and moral mouldings of the earth. And, in such case, there is no loss of lower benefits to the world; for, by some inscrutable means, all needed books, pictures, and inventions find authors for themselves. War, vice, sin,these alone really deface and destroy, and these occur by some just permission of Providence. But the subjection of matter to any, however imperfect, order, the impression of any intelligence upon it, in the place of confu- sion,this must be referred, more or less directly, to the one great Source of all order and intelligence. And the essential likeness in all departments of production, human and divine, confirms this truth. Knives and ivory tusks are both imple- ments; linen and lions hide are alike tissues; temple and cave are each an edifice; and so with flute-notes and birds song, boat-oar and fish-fin, books and volumes of rock inscribed with ripple-marks and petrifactions. Sin is the only thing that sunders any effect from the First Cause. Where that is, we can only say, there God has not secured the good in its place; there he has exerted less power, been less present, for his presence is light and order. His most amazing act of creatorship is the gifting of man with his own sovereign power to originate purposes; but this freedom of moral choice is be- tween motives of different kinds, higher and lower, right and wrong. Now, in the sphere of art, choice lies between motives and ends of the same kind, between greater and less beauty, or use, or economy, or fitness; here is strictly no liberty; the stronger of like motives must govern; and hence, in philo 22 A NATURAL TREOLOGY OF ART. [July, sophical accuracy, mans work, beyond the line of moral acts, is the work of the Most high. Art has to do with sin in these ways: first, in the figurative sense that a violation of any rule of taste or utility is a trans- gression of such rule; secondly, that needless ignorance or neglect of these rules is a sin of carelessness or idleness; thirdly, that to pervert art to evil ends is as wrong as to de- grade nature; fourthly, that arts, in themselves divine and dutiful, may interfere with higher duties; fifthly, if any art be a mans evident vocation, he may sin against it by following some other occupation. It is pleasant to observe that critics now recognize a moral element in the artists style of execu- tion; they speak of him as sincere, faithful, conscientious, in his drawing or singing. With the above five, or more, ex- ceptions, the one disconnecting thing a moral choice does not separate any effect from the great Author. Even the defects and deformities of human productions, so far as they are not due to culpable neglect, are a part of the ordained progress of the race from knowledge to knowledge. The so-called chaos, and the dragon-period, were no less na- ture than the present cosmos. Half the glory of a wilderness is in- its rubbish, malformation, and desolation. A twisted tree and a ragged cliff are beautiful. In this light, we can dis- cern something of the onward, comprehensive plan in unsightly architecture, awkward utensils, false and poor painting. And since this is so, how much more do we fulfil the Eternal Will in perfecting and beautifying anything! Whether imperfect or not, a permanent work, still further, accomplishes a Divine purpose by recording the history of one age for the benefit of another. A writer wisely remarks : The Genius of the Hour sets his ineffaceable seal on mans work. As far as the spiritual character of the period overpowers the artist, and finds expression in his work, so far it will represent to future beholders the Unknown, the Inevitable, the Divine. No man can quite exclude this element of necessity from his labor The artists pen or chisel seems to have been held and guided by a gigantic hand, to inscribe a line in the history of the human race. These true thoughts may be transplanted from their soil of fatalism. We feel that much is inevitable in the work of our 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 23 race, and therefore should feel, in view of the sum total of good wrought out, that a conscious Goodness is omnipresent in all things, not a blind Force. The delightful harmony of the productions of a nation with its time, place, and consti- tutional peculiarities, even to the minutest details, is quite beyond any individual purpose; and these productions are a record so much more eloquent than written history, that, language being admitted to be of divine origin, there can be no doubt that the specific impulses to other human arts are equally so. A glance at the relies of ancient Egypt is more instructive than Herodotus. The elaborate pueriities, gro- tesque ornaments, and absurd perspective of the Chinese, were they otherwise than they are, would not be Chinese. Each fresh item of national feature, in art as in act, is received with fresh relish; it is just what we would have expected. It can hardly be conceived that the metropolis of the United States should have been other than it is; the imposing public buildings of Grecian model, the magnificent distances~ and meagre filling up, the Smithsonian Institute, the statues and the monuments, affect us as matters of course, the most nat- ural creations possible, all things considered. More evidently do human works appear in some sort divine, when it is recollected that many individual impulses conspire, often, to a grand result. If a malevolent genius be thought to gather up the little threads of selfish human purpose and weave them into great cables and networks of wrong, certainly a sleepless superintendence is still more manifest in mighty and good issues. The London Exhibition was not due to Prince Albert or to Paxton; ages of private ingenuity tended to that public consummation; it was the splendid Niagara of myriad confluent streams of art and wealth, flowing through all time. All the world, including burglars, invented Hobbess lock; all the world perfected the winning yacht and the prize reaping-machine. Michael Angelo but directed the hose-pipe of a huge reservoir of treasure, power, national genius and cub ture, when he played into the air that vast, petrified fountain, curving down in domes, streaming down in columns, rain- bowed with mosaic, St. Peters. Such an enterprise as the Western Central or the Pacific Railroad has its roots in a 24 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, long series of events and influences. Every man and every hour that contribute to a sublime end, for the most part look only to some immediate, trivial object. None but an All- wise Power brings forth the surpassing grandeurs of civiliza- tion. How is the conclusion, in its most definite applications, hindered by the fact that a created intelligence intervenes? Many things which we regard as operations of nature are as- cribed by revelation to angelic instrumentality. It is a charm- ing thought of poetry, that spirits superintend the growth of flowers. And who shall say that unseen beings are not em- ployed in many processes of creation, so that all which we esteem purely natural may not be so strictly? But we already consider some things as quite other than artificial, where me- diate intelligence a degree of reason, in fact is present visibly. The animal often exhibits wisdom, power of various adaptation, as well as uniform instinct; yet we recognize the honey-comb, spiders web, beavers structure, as natural, al- though some difficulty, so rare as to transcend the limits of ordinary instinct, has been overcome in their construction. And because a human, a higher intelligence is added, in any case, because God has thus exerted more creative power, is more manifestly present, in securing the result, shall we therefore see less of him? Flowers have been called thoughts of God; so are the good utensil, vehicle, structure, and arti- ficial symbol. There is danger of running to an extreme on this subject, as on all others. It needs a wary eye not to step off into the slough of modern German and New England pagans, who sink God and nature in man, or God and man in nature, who have found out that everything is everything, and every- thing else is everything, and everything is everything else. Nevertheless, within the limits now drawn, or implied, we may sink art in nature, may at least bathe it in nature. A temple is another form of vegetation or cavern. The white houses on distant hills their angles sharp in the sunlight are scattered crystals, left by the onward wave of improvement. The engine is a new beast of draught; proverbially, it is an iron horse. The optical instrument is a new eye; the gar 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 25 ment, an added epidermis; the lamp and household fire, other stars and suns; the watch, a new dial-flower; the statue, an- other recognized individual; picture and poem, the expressed juice of life and nature; the telegraph, a more powerful ear and tongue; steam-paddles, mightier arms to swim with; and cities, forests of tropical luxuriance, alas! still of tropical poison and decay. Who would arrest the inroads of civilization, however im- perfect it be? The world will be disfigured at first, but it will be transfigured at last. This beautiful star has been given to that one child made up of all earths children; let him eat his cake; let him peel and haggle this golden orange of a world; he will grow wiser and stronger by it, and be more fitted for his eternal manhood. This planetary block of granite has been surrendered to that one man composed of all men ; let him chip and hew at his pleasure; he strikes boldly, seem- ingly at random, and splinters off large fragments, as if he would ruin the block; but the work will be perfected ulti- mately. It is still granite, and can be thrown down and be- come a rough mass, if need be. All below heaven is nature, however changed. Egypt and Syria are deserts once more; and if the human family, in the wiser time to come, shall pre- fer a primitive earth, there will be time for the column to crumble, the ivy to grow, the wild to resume its reign; the wounds of spade and drill will be healed, if they be wounds, and not rather the surgery of science. Now, however, may we no more lament the mutilation and ransacking of wilder- nesses; may we hear no more cant about desecrating the shrines of Nature. Man is not man until cultivated; Nature is not herself in him, except through the arts of education. To pine disconsolately for her original forms in woods and crags, is consistent only with a yearning for the habits of savage life2 Or if valleys and hills are less natural when changed by created hands, they may be more divine; the eternal purpose may be accomplishing itself. The recent and sublime science of physical geography, as well as geology, brilliantly proves that the earth was made for man, not man for the earth. Utility is a deeper beauty, amid will yet be wedded to all beauty. Let the clown feli the forest-trees that von. ~xxix.No. 164. 3 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 26 [July, should be spared; his children will learn better things, and will plant other frees. Railroads have their unsightly fea.. tures, but they open tracts of scenery before inaccessible; all the world can now see Westmoreland as well as could its hermit bard. And railroads themselves begin to appear as natural, right, and beautiful, as if beavers had heaped the em- bankments, spiders spun the bridges, tornadoes levelled the woods, geologic fires left the veins of iron track, and as if the locomotive were a very behemoth, devouring rivers of distance at a breath, and followed by the many-jointed monster of a train. The small stone tower at Niagara humanizes the shaggy, foaming creature; the bridge to Iris Island is a collar on the lions neck, attesting the empire of man. All the arti- ficial surroundings help the vastness of the cataract, by needed comparison; and it matters not what are the accessories of such a wonder; it is an immense revolving emerald set in the universe, not merely in its own narrow shores and cliffs. Wherever a tenement is desired, let it be built. Sooner may we upbraid the wasps for hanging their paper nests upon any free, or denounce the African ants for building their tall mounds, with no eye to the effect of scenery, with no respect to its proprieties. Man has a claim to, and is a creature of the earth, no less than birds and insects. We are placed here, not in the moon; are workers, not simply spectators of land and sea; are not all eye, but hands also. What if the Old World parks be sold for pence and given to the poor; their beauty will live in song and painting. What though every American solitude be overrun; its glory will remain in the lines of poets, the pages of novelists, the canvas of landscape artists. A missionary, whose writings evince no tendency to mere speculative refinements, recorded these words concerning the sfrangely picturesque wildernesses of Oregon, before they had begun to be peopled by the recent immigrations: The wild scenery of nature for a while delights, but it is the scenes of civilized culture which give permanent interest. These are the objects which, with their progressive changes, lend addi- tional charms to stereotyped nature. With this simple utter- ance of feeling, the most delicate criticism agrees. The sum- 1834.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. 27 mer letters of an Howadji speak of Lake George as a diamond in the rough; it needs to have, like Lake Como, the human impress of art, the gleam of marble palaces, or of summer retreats of any genuine beauty, even a margin of grain-goldened shore, or ranges of whispering rushes beneath stately terraces, indeed, any improvements which Nature has there suggested. And a critic of the Howadji is wrong when he thinks that the ideas of confinement and costly exclusiveness are necessarily connected with the artifi- cial, and that we therefore need to escape into the ruggedness and freedom of solitudes. When the present economy of society shall approximate more nearly to an equalization of benefits, we shall not need to flee from suggestions of care and expense. When an innocent freedom shall be realized in speech and intercourse, a childlike individuality in manners, costume, and custom, we will not seek the liberty of rural life. When cities are expanded, instead of condensed, we shall not have to go far to find green trees and grass. When all wheels and pavements are made of gutta-percha, we shall not so much long for rustic quiet. Above all, when we bring the God of nature, of the mountains and the sea, into our cities and dwellings, by recognizing the divinity of art, we shall have less desire to commune with the genius loci of rock and woodland. The time may come when men will somewhat reverse their present habit, will go to the picture and ma- chine to meditate on the Infinite, and seek out solitary places to learn the lessons of art. There will be enough of the virgin earth left. The Atlantic will not be filled up, nor Mount Washington cultivated to the summit. The Genesee Falls still roar; the mist has not been wholly changed to meal, nor all the foam to flour, nor every bubble to a barrel. Until time is no more, the sun will shine, the lakes sparkle, and the deep glens remain, with their dia- mond-dripping cascades, the rippled gold in the depth of transparent pools, the gray walls tufted with soft moss, the towering hemlocks, threads of blue light, twilight shadows, and masses of richly fringed evergreens. There will still be mountain summits, where the eye may lose man and his works in dim distance and universal creation. Flowers will 28 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, retain their pattern and color, and the clouds remember their own favorite forms. Let the hills, like those of ancient Juda~a, be terraced to their tops, and wave with the vine and corn; let the rich build and adorn to their hearts content, inventing new comforts and luxuries which the poor shall yet profit by. Let the deluge of human life rush into all nooks and recesses, and prevail exceedingly, until the high hills under the whole heav- en are covered. A poor Canute is he who would roll back the tide of activity and change which is sweeping over the earth. The reverent spirit of the ancients of the Orient ascribed all invention and skill to Him whose inspiration gives under- standing. Then, it is recorded, wrought every wise- hearted man in whom the Lord put wisdom and under- standing, to know how to work all manner of work for the service of the sanctuary. And not wisdom only, but all strength, is from His infiowing power; the hand that slays is nerved, though not guided, by Omnipotence, much more the hand that builds and adorns. The speculative dreamer would add to this, that all we truly know of matter is some kind of motion in the organs of sense; that these organs, and the body in which they inhere, have no stronger proof of their objective reality; and that therefore the First Cause may be so intimately present in art, as in nature, that, if the move- ments of ultimate substaiice were to cease, the artist and his work would instantly vanish, and spirit alone remain in the void realm of existence. Throughout these remarks, the mechanical and the fine arts have not been distinguished; and perhaps it is well. One book tells us that the plastic arts are the game of a rude and youthful people, and not the manly labor of a wise and spiritual nation, that the instinct of genius now is, to find beauty and holiness in new and necessary facts, in the field and roadside, in the shop and mill. Another book ad- mits that it is fit surely to recognize with admiring joy any glimpse of the beautiful and eternal that is hung out for us, in color, in form, or tone, in canvas, stone, or atmospheric air, and made accessible by any sense in this world; yet this book demands whether all talk about the polite arts be not in good part a temporary dilettante cloud-land of our poor century. 1854.] A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF A1~T. 29 Yet there are peculiar respects in which the beautiful arts are divine. All beauty is essentially so. And the several departments might be spoken of, for instance, music, of which a living writer says: No other art can so depict to the eyes of the soul all the splendors of nature; all Scotland is in a true Scotch air, etc. And this is the first general way, among many, in which the fine arts concern the Crea. tor; they interpret nature, they reveal its spirit, and thus the heart of its Author. Secondly, as before stated, in their bio- graphical and historical character they embody the artist and his age, and so record the shapings of Providence. Thirdly, in their didactic capacity, they are a language of symbols, and may be eloquent of all truth, which all centres in God, is his body, to use the figure of Plato. Fourthly, they have power to educate the senses, training them to precision and sensitiveness, so as to make men better observers of the universe. Fifthly, in their vivifying power, they awaken in man his better nature, and stimulate him to love and to act the divinely beautiful. Sixthly, the inspiration of their production is an ascent into a higher sphere of our being, where intuition rules, and the soul directly beholds essential truth, beauty, and goodness. Schefer, in his Artists Married Life, declares that it is only as a pure being that ~ man can really mount into the region of imagination, and that he must remain a moral being, and may least of all give himself up to the Devil that he may reveal God in his art. Seventhly, in their ideal perfection, the fine arts concentrate the boundless, the infinite; so far as anything is perfect, its contemplation seems to remove all limitations of thought and emotion. Eighthly, in the elements of typical beauty which they pos- sess, as developed by Ruskin, they give us infinity, or the type of the Divine incomprehensibility; unity, or comprehen- siveness; repose, or permanence; symmetry, or justice; purity, or energy; moderation, or law. With these suggestions, this dilettante cloud-land may be passed by. In Schefers words, the great Master in heaven gives the conception of the fair work, the power of accomplishing it, and joy to men in beholding it. In conclusion, we need not go to so-called Nature alone, 3* 30 A NATURAL THEOLOGY OF ART. [July, the fields and woods, to feel a devout and poetic enthusi- asm. We have but to open our eyes on street and roof, and merchandise from far countries, matter wonderfully designed for such transformations by means of men wonderfully made for the work, a wonder doubly divine. Let us look not only through telescope and microscope, but also at the instru- ments themselves, to behold the All-glorious. The sound of bell and organ, and the roar of machinery, are as vocal of Him as are cataract and avalanche, when they in their perilous fall shall thunder God. Nor is the dllmax of any art required to this end, the webs of Persia, the spires of Europe, the Hersehellan reflector, or Atlantic steamship. The commonest reproductions of matter are full of this poetry and natural the- ology, the barest walls no less than painted ceilings, the coarse raiment of the laborer no less than laces subtile as frost-work~ or silks of changing hues that undulate like a pur- ple sunset on a billowy sea. Everything in city or country, in earth or heaven, is lustrous with the light of Him whom we think of, in childhood, as a human person; in youth, as a superhuman one, who speaks in thunder and descends in the mystery of night; in manhood, as the unseen Reality who shines through all appearances. As we walk onward in the gathering darkness of care and sorrow, one ray after another struggles through the visible, until, as in the annual illumina- tion of a great cathedral, every line of the temple of existence flashes forth the omnipresent Light; we read the mighty plan in touches of fire, and gaze upon the infinite Light, Love, and Beauty. And let it be noticed that the final triumph of truth, the union of heaven and earth, is represented, in inspired vision, in terms of art, not of nature. It is a city of pearl and gold, descending out of heaven. May it not picture the descent of knowledge, as well as holiness, to earth, the union of art with nature, as well as of God with man? However this may be, there is a point of view, if not on earth, yet high in the heavens, where the whole universe, material and spiritual, natural and artificial, is embraced in one complex purpose, one great thought of God. 1854.] JOHN 0. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 31 ART. 11.i. Poems. By JOHN G. WHITTIER. Boston: B. B. Mussey & Co. 1849. 2. Margaret Smiths Journal. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, & Fields. 1849. 3. Old Portraits and Modern Sketches. By JOHN G. WHIT- TIER. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, & Fields. 1850. 4. Songs of Labor. By JOHN G. WHITTIER. Boston: Tick-. nor, Reed, & Fields. 1850. 5. Chapel of the Hermit, and other Poems. By JOHN G. WHITTIER. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, & Fields. 1853. JOHN G. WHITTIER, the Boanerges of American poets, was born in 1808, of Quaker parentage, in the romantic outskirts of Haverhill, a beautiful Massachusetts town on the Merri- mack, where we recognize the scenes of many of the incidents which form the groundwork of his ballads. His ancestors had suffered not a little from Puritan intolerance, and he conse- quently comes honestly by the bitterness towards the early Puritans so observable in his writings. Every one must be struck by the contrast between the peaceful tenets of his pro- fessed Quakerism and the martial vehemence of his denunci- ation against the old persecutors of his family, a fact show- ing the irrepressibleness of the combative principle of human nature under the restraints of mere theory. The spot of his birth, which had been inhabited by his family for four or five generations, he has thus described in The Yankee Zincali. The old farm-house nestling in its valley; hills stretching off to the south, and green meadows to the east; the small stream which came noisily down its ravine, washing the old garden wall, and softly lapping on fallen stones and mossy roots of beeches and hemlocks; the tall sentinel poplars at the gateway; the oak forest, sweeping un- broken to the northern horizon; the grass-grown carriage-path, with its rude and crazy bridge; the dear old landscape of my boyhood lies outstretched before me like a daguerreotype from that picture within, which I have borne with me in all my wanderings. I am a boy again. Until about his eighteenth year Whittier lived upon his fa- thers farm, diversifying his agricultural labors by attendance

1854.] JOHN 0. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 31 ART. 11.i. Poems. By JOHN G. WHITTIER. Boston: B. B. Mussey & Co. 1849. 2. Margaret Smiths Journal. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, & Fields. 1849. 3. Old Portraits and Modern Sketches. By JOHN G. WHIT- TIER. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, & Fields. 1850. 4. Songs of Labor. By JOHN G. WHITTIER. Boston: Tick-. nor, Reed, & Fields. 1850. 5. Chapel of the Hermit, and other Poems. By JOHN G. WHITTIER. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, & Fields. 1853. JOHN G. WHITTIER, the Boanerges of American poets, was born in 1808, of Quaker parentage, in the romantic outskirts of Haverhill, a beautiful Massachusetts town on the Merri- mack, where we recognize the scenes of many of the incidents which form the groundwork of his ballads. His ancestors had suffered not a little from Puritan intolerance, and he conse- quently comes honestly by the bitterness towards the early Puritans so observable in his writings. Every one must be struck by the contrast between the peaceful tenets of his pro- fessed Quakerism and the martial vehemence of his denunci- ation against the old persecutors of his family, a fact show- ing the irrepressibleness of the combative principle of human nature under the restraints of mere theory. The spot of his birth, which had been inhabited by his family for four or five generations, he has thus described in The Yankee Zincali. The old farm-house nestling in its valley; hills stretching off to the south, and green meadows to the east; the small stream which came noisily down its ravine, washing the old garden wall, and softly lapping on fallen stones and mossy roots of beeches and hemlocks; the tall sentinel poplars at the gateway; the oak forest, sweeping un- broken to the northern horizon; the grass-grown carriage-path, with its rude and crazy bridge; the dear old landscape of my boyhood lies outstretched before me like a daguerreotype from that picture within, which I have borne with me in all my wanderings. I am a boy again. Until about his eighteenth year Whittier lived upon his fa- thers farm, diversifying his agricultural labors by attendance 32 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, upon the winters country school, by occasional essays at verse, which were duly communicated to the Haverhill Ga- zette, the paper which, as he says, once a week diffused hap- piness over our fireside circle, making us acquainted in our lonely nook with the goings-on of the great world, and, it must be confessed, by a somewhat irregular attention to the more prosaic business of shoe-making. Indeed, upon the strength of this, the gentle craft of leather have laid an es- pecial claim to him as one of their own poets; but we are afraid that mankind would go barefoot if St. Crispin had never had a more devoted disciple. It is characteristic of the thrift of New England farmers to provide extra occupation for a rainy day, and during the winter season, or when the weather is too inclement for out-of-door work, the farmer and his sons turn an honest penny by giving their attention to some employment equally remunerative. For this purpose they have near the farm-house a small shed stocked with the appropriate implements of labor. But from what we know of Whittiers life, it could not have been long before he vio- lated the Horatian precept which forbids the shoemaker to go beyond his last. For two years after his eighteenth, Whittier attended the town academy, acquiring some classical knowledge, eagerly devouring all the reading which came within his reach, espe- cially historical (whence his profuse references to historical events and personages), and contributing constantly in prose and verse to the weekly newspaper of the town. Most of these poems are omitted in his published works, though some of them merit insertion. Among them we recall several in the Scotch dialect, to which his early admiration of Burns may have given him a bias, and in which he found a zealous though friendly rival in the Rustic Bard, Robert IDins- more, a Scotchman whose life he has commemorated in a graceful essay contained among his prose writings. His ex- tending reputation soon led to his being called to the editor- ship of The American Manufacturer, a journal devoted to the advocacy of a protective tariff. He was at this tinie an ardent admirer of Henry Clay, and supported his claims to the Presidency. From The American Manufacturer he 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 33 went to The New England Weekly Review in Hartford, a literary and political sheet, which had previously been con- ducted by his friends, J. G. C. Brainard and George ID. Pren- tiss. These two papers were managed with such ability, that he was generally hailed as a great accession to the literary force of the country. In 1831, Whittier resumed his agricultural pursuits in his native town, and in the years 1835 and 1836 represented it in the legislature of Massachusetts. In 1836 he was elected one of the Secretaries of the American Antislavery Society, and since then has devoted a great part of his time to the Anti- slavery movement, which had been begun in the year 1833 by Mr. Garrison and his followers, and in which he had taken an interest from its commencement. He soon removed to Phila- delphia, where he remained until 1840, engaged during most of the time in editing The Pennsylvania Freeman, an Anti- slavery journal. He was in the city during the unrelenting persecution to which the Abolitionists were for a season sub- jected, and in 1838 was present at the burning by a mob of Pennsylvania Hall, a handsome structure erected by the con- fributions of English and American Abolitionists for purposes of free discussion. For the opening of this hall, Whittier wrote an address, one of the poorest of his productions, and certainly in a literary point of view unworthy of preservation. Unlike most of his compositions, it is diffuse and wordy, and it shows but little of his customary vigor. He there intimates the possibility of a future growth of ivy on the walls of the edifices which hope was frustrated by its destruction within a week after its completion. During his residence in Phila- delphia he was so absorbed in the Antislavery reform, that literature was greatly neglected. In 1840 he removed to the town of Amesbury in Massachusetts, where he has since resided, having been connected, for the last few years, as cor- responding editor, with The National Era, a literary and Antislavery paper published at Washington. His first book appeared in 1830, entitled Legends of New England, of which few copies are now extant. It was suc- ceeded a year or two afterwards by Moll Pitcher, a poet- ical tale of the celebrated witch of Nahant; and in 1836, by 34 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, Mogg Megone, an Indian story in verse. A volume of po- ems followed, in 1838; these, and The Lays of my Home, were collected, with others, in his Miscellaneous Poems, which appeared in 1845, the same year with The Stranger in Lowell, a collection of fugitive essays. These last were written while he was editing a political paper, during the ex- citement of a Presidential campaign, when, to use his own words, being necessarily brought into collision with both the great political parties, he felt it at once a duty and a privilege to keep his heart open to the kindliest influences of nature and society; and they are a transcript of impressions made upon his mind by the common incidents of daily life. The subjects are such as these: Factory Girls, A Mormon Conventicle, The Yankee Zincali, Father Miller, Mod- ern Magic, The Training, and other matters which he found at hand in the city of spindles. The essays are written with a freshness of style which prevents their being tedious, and they give him an opportunity to evolve his peculiar and mystic views of a future life, and kindred topics. The nature of the speculations of the lonely enthusiast are particularly apparent in the essays entitled Hamlet among the Graves,~~ and Swedenborg. Supernaturalism of New England, given to the public in 1847, is a treatise upon the popular superstitions of New Eng- land. Though not scientifically arranged, it shows a certain method, and is interspersed with acute reflections, such as would naturally be suggested to a man of a highly poetical temperament well acquainted with his theme. His materials were evidently collected at first hand, the legends existing among a rural population, and supplied by the wrinkled crones around the wintry fireside of the farmer. The too evident scepticism of the narrator detracts somewhat from the charm of the volume, though less than if it were not compensated for by the exhibition of the quaint and humorous side of the incidents. He prefaces the work with a dedicatory poem to his sister, offering in the last stanza an excuse, if an excuse could be needed, for diversifying his reformatory labors with literary recreations. 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 35 And knowing how my life bath been A weary work of tongue and pen, A long, harsh strife with strong-willed men, Thou wilt not chide my turning, To con, at times, an idle rhyme, To pluck a flower from childhoods clime, Or listen, at lifes noonday chime, For the sweet bells of morning! Leaves from Margaret Smiths Journal was issued in 1849. The idea of this book was perhaps suggested by the Diary of Lady Willoughby, which had preceded it by a short interval. The visit of a cultivated and engaging Eng- lish young lady to the Colony of Massachusetts, in the year 1678, forms the basis of the story, of which the chief merit claimed by the author is, that it presents a tolerably lifelike picture of the past, and introduces us familiarly to the hearths and homes of New England at the time of the Salem Witch- craft and the persecutions of the Quakers, when Puritanism was at its height. Bvit this is not its sole merit. The story is simple, the characters are natural and well sustained, and the style has a quaintness and antique flavor in keeping with the time, and a feminine delicacy and humor appropriate to the supposed narrator. The Journal is written for her cousin Oliver, in England, to whom she is betrothed, and she begins it, as she says, Not from any vanitie of Authorship, or because of any undue con- fiding in my poor abilitie to edify one justly held in Repute among the Learned, but because my Hearte tells me that what I write, be it ever so faultie, will be read by the partial eye of my Kinsman, and not with the critical Observance of the Scholar, and that his Love will not find it difficult to excuse what offends his Clcrkly Judgment. And, to em- bolden me withal, I will never forget that I am writing for my old Playmate at Hide and Seek in the Farm house at Hilton, the same who used to bunt after Flowers for me in the Spring and who did fill my Apron with Hazle-nuts in the Autumn, and who was then, I fear, little wiser than his still foolish Cousin, who if she hath not learned so many New Things as himself hath perhaps remembered more of the Old. The scenery of New England is described with enthusiasm 36 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, and with the coloring of reality, and some appropriate passage from the Scriptures is never wanting to give utterance to her simple piety, or her delight in contemplating the outward as- pects of nature. The fields and roads are dustie in August, and all things do seem to faint and wax old under the intolerable Sun. Great Locusts sing sharp in the hedges and bushes, and Grasshoppers flue up in clouds, as it were, when one walks over the dry grass they feed upon, and at night-fall the Musketoes are no small torment. Whenever I doe look forth at noon day, at which time the air is all aglow, with a certain glimmer and dazzle, like that from an hot Furnace, I see the poor flue- bitten Cattell whisking their tayles to keep off the venemous insects, or standing in the water of the low grounds for Coolness, and the panting sheep lying together under the shade of Trees. Here is a description of the woods in October As far as mine Eyes could look, the mightie Wilderness, under the bright westerly Sun, and stirred by a gentle wind, did seem like a Gar- den in its Season of flowering; green, dark, and light, orange, and pale yellow, and crimson leaves, mingling and interweaving their various hues in a manner truly wonderful to behold. These colors did remind me of the Stains of the Windows of Old Churches, and of rich Tapestrie. The Maples were all aflame with crimson, the Walnuts were orange, the Hemlocks and Cedars were well nigh black, while the slender Birches with their pale yellow Leaves seemed painted upon them a~s Pictures are laid upon a dark ground. I gazed until mine Eyes grew wearie, and a sense of the wonderful Beautie of the visible Creation, and of Gods great goodness to the Children of Men therein, did rest upon me, and I said in mine Heart with one of old: 0 Lord! how manifold are thy Works: in Wisdom hast thou made them all, and the Earth is full of thy Riches. There are also contained in this volume a number of excel- lent poems, particularly the Irish ballad Kathleen, and the fine Verses, writ by Sir Christopher Gardiner. Other persons figure, in the slight story of Margaret Smiths Journal, besides herself. They are sketched, if without any elaborate completeness, yet with no little felicity of delineation.. The only thing which gives to the book the air of a regularly connected story has a basis of historical truth, namely, the 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 37 tragic tale of Rebecca Rawson, one of the most romantic epi- sodes of New England Puritanic life. This giddy and beau- tiful girl, as the story goes, was the daughter of Secretary Raw. son, a prominent magisfrate in the Massachusetts Colony. Dazzled by the splendor of an unprincipled adventurer named Ramsey, who represented himself to be a nephew o~ Sir Matthew Hale, Lord Chief Justice of England, she discarded Robert Pike, to whom she was betrothed, and married his more showy rival. On arriving in England she was abandoned by her graceless husband, to whom, as it turned out, a lady in Kent with two. children had a prior right. After supporting herself and her child for some time by her needle, Rebecca went with a relative to Port Royal, with the intention of returning to her parental home. She there met her old lover, Robert Pike, now a sea-captain, who renewed his addresses with a better prospect of success, but a memorable earthquake, oc- curring at that time in Port Royal, sank the vessel in which the two had embarked. Old Portraits and Modern Sketches~ is a series of bio- graphical notices of men with the purposes and principles of whose lives the author discovers grounds of sympathy in his own career, the vindicators of political and religious free- dom, John Bunyan, Thomas Elwood, James Nayler, An. drew i\larvell, John Roberts, Samuel Hopkins, Richard Bax- ter, William Leggett, and Nathaniel P. Rogers, a noble army of martyrs, and nobly commemorated by a spirit capable of appreciating their virtues and services to mankind. Whit- tier has done a good work in rescuing from oblivion some of the old Quaker worthies, and in presenting vividly to our minds, unencumbered with tedious and useless details, the prominent characteristics of the men, subordinating the facts of their history to the exhibition of the guiding motive of their lives. The author must have read many folios, and gone through a great deal of rubbish, to give so interesting an ac- count of Bunyan, Baxter, Hopkins, and his old Quaker friends. We wish that he had included among his portraits those of Fox and Penn, and especially that of the old saint of Quaker- ism, John Woolman, whose Journal Lamb so much admired. It seems to us that considerations of personal friendship must voL. LxXIX.NO. 164. 4 38 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, have biased Whittiers judgment when he inserted the sketch of Rogers, especially when he ranked him with the author of Elia. Rogers appears to have been an irregular and eccenfric genius, but decidedly lacking in the culture and unerring taste of the inimitable humorist with whom he is compared. Another deviation from the spirit of the work, for similar reasons, in the introduction of Robert Dinsmore among this goodly company, we can more applaud. IDinsmore is the Rustic Bard to whom we have before alluded, a plain, old Scotch farmer, living near Haverhill, whose simplicity and shrewd wit are sometimes embodied in a rustic poem which does credit to his Scotch descent, and the tenderness of whose Stanzas to a Sparrow, on accidentally crushing its nest in his corn-field, reminds the reader of the pathos of Burns. We give, as a specimen of the style of this work, and as containing a sagacious and probable explanation of the war- like phrases which interlard Quaker discourse, the following passage from the life of John Roberts From the Puritan yeomanry of England the Quakers drew their most zealous champions; men who, in renouncing the carnal weapons of their old service, found employment for habitual combativeness in hot and wordy sectarian waffare. To this day, the vocabulary of Quaker- ism abounds in the military phrases and figures which were in use in the Commonwealths time. Their old force and significance are now in a great measure lost; but one can well imagine that, in the assem- blies of the primitive Quakers, such stirring battle-cries and warlike tropes, even when employed in enforcing or illustrating the doctrines of peace, must have made many a stout heart to beat quicker, under its drab covering, with recollections of Naseby and Preston; transporting many a listener from the benches of his place of worship to the ranks of Ireton and Lambert, and causing him to hear, in the place of the solemn and nasal tones of the preacher, the blast of Ruperts bugles ,and the answering shout of Cromwells pikemen: Let God arise, and let his enemies be scattered! One of the most vigorous sketches in the book is that of William Leggett, a gentleman once remarkabl& for his ability and influence as a political writer, and for the intrepidity with which he maintained his Antislavery views in despite of the opposition of the Democratic party of which he was a member, 1854.] JOHN ~. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 39 and of the bulls of excommunication thundered at his head from the Democratic head-quarters in Tammany Hall. His death was commemorated in the verses of his friend and co-editor, Mr. Bryant ;and Whittier, too, upon the propo- sition coming from Tammany Hall to erect a monument to the deceased, gave vent to his feelings in an indignant sonnet, pref- aced with the text, Ye build the tombs of the prophets, and concluding with these lines Well is it now that oer his grave ye raise The stony tribute of your tardy praise, For not alone that pile shall tell to Fame Of the brave heart beneath, but of the builders shame! Whittiers latest publications are two volumes of poems, issued in 1851 and 1853, entitled Songs of Labor, and The Chapel of the Hermits. The first of these is a series of spirited ballads illustrating the nobility of labor. For the purpose of presenting the poetical aspects of his theme, the poet was obliged to take pretty wide excursions into the do- mains of his fancy. In glorifying the Ship-builders we recog- nize the propriety of sailing off to the frozen Hebrides, or even farther, to sultry Hindostan; but it is going a good way from his subject, in the tribute to The Shoemakers, to maintain that, For you, the dark-eyed Florentine Her silkeu skein is reeling; Or that, For you, round all her shepherd homes, Bloom Englands thorny hedges. In fact, throughout this poem the excursion into foreign parts to indicate the origin of waxed ends and shoe-pegs is rather more ingenious than poetical, making the song a song of labor in more senses than one. The best of the pieces, both in the subject and its treatment, appears to us to be The Huskers, and the Dedication is superior to any other portion of the book. The Chapel of the Hermits, as we understand it, is an 40 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, elucidation of some of the authors religious and metaphysical ideas, founded on an incident related in St. Pierres Studies of Nature. Its design, if we may speak prosaically, is to incul- cate the importance of attention to the monitions of the in- ward principle of conscience, and the possibility of thereby reaching that degree of perfection which will answer the end of our being. Of course the confession of faith, like all similar announcements, is, as a whole, dull; bu~ it is relieved by pas- sages of unmistakable beauty. Questions of Life is an admirable poem, and illusfrates the seriousness of tone per- vading this volume. Before attempting to specify the qualities which distinguish Whittier as an author, it will be well to consider the predom- inating influence which bore upon him almost at the outset of his career. This was his participation in the spirit of Anti- slavery agitation; and in order to make our view of his writings more complete, it may not be inappropriate to take a survey of this movement in its inception, and of the different phases which the public mind in this country has from time to time assumed upon the question of slavery. At the time of the adoption of the Federal Constitution, enlightened men in all quarters were opposed to slavery, re- garding it as an evil entailed upon us by the mother country, unprofitable in an economical point of view, and at variance with the spirit of our political institutions; and its extinction at no distant day was deemed certain. That this was so, is abundantly manifest from the debates in the Convention which formed the Constitution, where the subject was fully discussed, the views of Northern and Southern statesmen recorded, and a provision inserted in the Constitution itself prohibiting the importation of slaves after the year 1808. Shortly before the commencement of the present century the cotton-gin was invented by Eli Whitney, prodigiously facil- itating the preparation of cotton for manufacture. The con- sequence of its introduction was so to augment the consump- tion of this material as to elevate it into the chief staple of the country, and to enhance the value of that species of labor which was best adapted to its cultivation. This naturally effected a gradual revolution in the opinions of the people 1854.1 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 41 among whom slavery existed, and their interests, in conse- quence of this stimulus, were identified with its growth and extension. When the institution became profitable in the cotton-growing States, it of course became profitable also in those States that could assist in supplying the demand of the others for new laborers. Moreover, the occasional opposition to slavery manifested on the part of the North, where it was unprofitable and had by degrees disappeared, conspired with other causes to excite that esprit du corps or pride in the in- stitution, which at this time unites in its defence all the States within whose borders it exists. Whenever, therefore, new ter- ritory was to be acquired upon the line separating the regions where slavery could and could not be profitably maintained, the South took care to lose nothing by default; and since the discussions upon the Missouri Compromise in 1819, fixing the northern limit of the system at 36~ 30, it has by a mutual and tacit understanding been distinctly before the national legis- lature,to be protected and guarded as one of the great inter- ests of the country. When, therefore, in 1833, Mr. Garrison established the American Antislavery Society, and announced as his watch- word Immediate and Unconditional Emancipation, he came into conflict with a doctrine settled and considered es- sential to the stability of the Union, and also with the com- mercial interests of the North, which had become dependent upon the prosperity of the South. In consequence, an excite- ment was produced wholly disproportionate to the importance of the exciting cause. In maintaining their positions, the Abolitionists were guilty of many unnecessary extravagances; but the persecutions to which they were subjected, and the tenacity with which they held to their convictions, won for them some admirers outside of their ranks, who regarded them as the vindicators of that liberty under which free-born men, Having to advise the public, may speak free. One noticeable effect of the Abolition agitation has been the promotion of the freedom of individual inquiry. Most of the new theories contemplating radical changes in politics, religion, 4 42 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, and social life, which agitate us at the present time, have ap- peared in the wake of the Antislavery reform; and it must be confessed that in this country men have since moved less in masses, and been less prone to take their opinions at second hand, upon the authority of others. Whittiers ardent and poetical temperament predisposed him to take part in the Antislavery reform. In fact, the poetical temperament is naturally anarchical in its tenden- cies. Accordingly, he did enter it from the outset, and be- came the Tyrta~us of the new movement. He shared all the feelings of exultation and discouragement elicited during the progress of the struggle, and we can imagine the powerful effect his vehement appeals must have had upon his fellow- reformers, when, even to those who read them now, with but a faint idea of the circumstances under which they were written, they stir the blood like the sound of a trumpet. An anti- Abolition mob, the movements of any political or ecclesias- tical body upon the subject of slavery, an election favorable or unfavorable to his cause, was sure to arouse his lyric genius, so that his poems may be read as a commentary chronicling events as they bore upon the struggle, and were looked upon as such by those with whom he was in communion. In considering Whittiers merits as an author, it is quite manifest that we should mention, first, his intensity, that vivid force of thought and expression which distinguishes his writings. His verses sometimes bear marks of extreme haste, but the im- perfections which would result from this cause are in a great measure obviated by the strength and simplicity of his concep- tions, He begins to write with so clear an apprehension of what he intends to say, that in many cases his poems come out at first heat with a roundness and perfection which would lead one to suppose that they had passed through the fires of revision. But at times this vehemence is overdone, and needs a restraint which longer consideration would have supplied. This vividness, which Whittier possesses in a greater degree than any other living author with whom we are acquainted, is in part a natural peculiarity of his mind, and in part arises from the urgent circumstances under which he wrote. His object was to produce an immediate effect upon the popular 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AN]) HIS WRITINGS. 43 mind, to stimulate his readers to immediate action, and in consequence his productions have a business-like directness and cogency which do not belong to ordinary poetic effusions. Whittiers genius is essentially lyrical. It would be out of his power to write in a strain so purely imaginative as that of Keats To a Grecian Urn, or other similar productions. Be- sides, mere devotion to the poetical art, mere exercise of the imagination for its own sake, seems inappropriate to him who considers, as he says, Life all too earnest, and its time too short, For dreamy ease and Fancys graceful sport. One short, vigorous blast suffices him. He himself has fre- quently shown that he is aware of this characteristic, as, for instance, in the modest Dedication of his larger volume The rigor of a frozen clime, The harshness of an untaught ear, The jarring words of one whose rhyme Beat often Labors hurried time, Or Dutys rugged march through storm and strife, are here. Of mystic beauty, dreamy grace, No rounded art the lack supplies; Unskilled the subtle lines to trace, Or softer shades of Natures face, I view her common forms with unanointed eyes. Yet here at least an earnest sense Of human right and weal is shown; A hate of tyranny intense, And hearty in its vehemence, As if my brothers pain and sorrow were my own. Like every other fine lyric poet, Whittier does not lack his multitude of friendly critics, who advise him to concentrate his efforts upon some great work, instead of dissipating his energy upon what they consider mere ephemerals, to devote himself to some gigantic undertaking, which shall loom up like the Pyramids to tell posterity his fame. But in our opinion the author has unwittingly best consulted his genius and reputation in the course which he has adopted. His shortest productions are his happiest. There is no doubt that 44 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, the writing of long poems is sanctioned by many eminent examples; but they are the least read of an authors works, and are known to most people only by certain favorite extracts. Readers in general look upon a great poem in the same light in which Leigh Hunt regarded a great mountain, as a great impostor. The majority of the lovers of Homer and Dante and Virgil, in any given community, except school- boys qui amant misere, might find accommodations in an om- nibus of reasonable size. They are mistaken who measure the greatness of a poem by its length; for length is very little to be considered in estimating durability. Provided that a poem be vital in every part with true inspiration, and exhibit a perfect finish throughout, it matters very little for the per- manency of its fame how many pages it covers. The compactness which oftentimes results from Whittiers intensity is well illustrated in the ode entitled Our State, indicating the sources of the pride and prosperity of Massa- chusetts Nor heeds the sceptics puny hands, While near her school the church-spire stands; Nor fears the blinded bigots rule, While near her church-spire stands the school. The Reformer is an instance to the same purpose: All grim and soiled and brown with tan, I saw a strong one in his wrath, Smiting the godless shrines of man Along his path. Gray-bearded Use, who, deaf and blind, Groped for his old, accustomed stone, Leaned on his staff, and wept, to find His seat oerthrown Young Romance raised his dreamy eyes, Oerhung with paly locks of gold: Why smite, he asked, in sad surprise, The fair, the old? I looked: aside the dust-cloud rolled, The Waster seemed the Builder too; Upspringing from the ruined Old I saw the New. 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 45 These lines, To Pius IX., were written immediately after the bombardment of Rome by the allied armies of the Pon- tiff: Yet, scandal of the world! from thee One needful truth mankind shall learn, That kings and priests to Liberty And God are false in turn. Not vainly Roman hearts have bled To feed the Crosier and the Crown, If, roused thereby, the world shall tread The twin-born vampires down. The natural vehemence of Whittiers poetry has at times run into declamatory excess. This failing is discoverable principally in his earlier verses upon political and reformatory subjects, written while his judgment was still immature, and unduly influenced by his passions. Thus, upon reading the sentence of death passed on John L. Brown for assisting a fe- male slave to escape, (which sentence was afterwards com- muted,) a series of stanzas were written, the first one of which makes the following insinuations against the clergy, addressing them in this style: Ho! thou who seekest late and long A license from the Holy Book For brutal lust and hells red wrong, Man of the pulpit, look ! Lift up those cold and atheist eyes, This ripe fruit of thy teachings see; And tell us how to Heaven will rise The incense of this sacrifice, This blossom of the Gallows Tree I The poem entitled Clericai Oppressors was called forth by a meeting of the citizens of Charleston, which the clergy attended in a body, and has some good round invective, equally unfair, but rather more telling than that quoted above Pilate and Herod, friends! Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine! Just God and holy! is that church, which lends Strength to the spoiler, Thine? 46 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, The first stanza of The Pine-Tree contains an inspiring appeal, and a graphic picture of the old Roundheads in coun- cil: Lift again the stately emblem on the Bay States rusted shield, Give to Northern winds the Pine-Tree on our banners tattered field! Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board, Answering Englands royal missive with a firm THus 5AITH THE LORD, Rise again for home and freedom ! set the battle in array ! What the fathers did of old time, we their sons must do to-day. A wider experience, and the more charitable judgment which generally accompanies increasing years, have had their effect in modifying the tone of his recent verse. Without losing any of its fire, it shows in a more chastened style and temper- ate spirit marks of a greater culture and a more Christian for- bearance. The ex~juisite sonnet, Forgiveness, is an index of this change of feeling: My heart was heavy, for its trust had been Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong; So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men, One summer Sabbath-day, I strolled among The green mounds of the village burial-place; Where, pondering how all human love and hate Find one sad level, and how, soon or late, Wronged and wrong-doer, each with meekened face, And cold hands folded over a still heart, Pass the green threshold of one common grave, Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart, Awed for myself, and pitying my race, Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave, Swept all my pride away, and, trembling, I forgave. A poem bearing the name of Ichabod, provoked by the supposed recreancy of a great statesman, under circumstances which would have once called forth all the denunciation of which the author was capable, is an impressive example of the same kind. We forbear to quote, in further exemplification of our re- marks, the impressive Lines suggested by a Visit to Wash- ington, and What the Voice said, in order to make room for two specimens which will bring into striking confrast his 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 47 earlier and his later views. The first is from Stanzas for the Times of 1836, when an anti-Abolition meeting was held in Faneuil Hall. Shall tongues be mute, when deeds are wrought Which well might shame extremest hell? Shall freemen lock the indignant thought? Shall Pitys bosom cease to swell? Shall Honor bleed ?shall Truth succumb? Shall pen and press and soul be dumb? The second is from Stanzas for the Times of 1850, the date of the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law. Not mine seditions trumpet-blast And threatening word; I read the lesson of the Past, That firm endurance wins at last More than the sword. The Quakerism in which Whittier was reared, and which he has always professed, stands, as we have already said, in sfrange conflict with the belligerent tone of many of his writings. We should hardly have expected so rude and martial a sirain from the quiet, drab-coated professor of the mild tenets of his sect. Perhaps his tone is more in accord- ance with the spirit of the early founders of the denomination, than the comparatively uninteresting dulness of the modern type. Of late years, ~the Quakers have lost their desire for propagandism, and have become more accommodating and worldly-wise. But in early times, no sect had so zealous and wide-awake champions as the Society of Friends. George Fox, James Nayler, and even William Penn, show that their Quakerism had not wholly subdued their combative tenden- cies. The admirers of Whittier need not regret that he is not formed upon the more modern and respectable pattern. We are naturally led, from the consideration of our authors Quakerism, to that strong religious fervor which is manifested in every part of his writings. So deeply rooted is it, and ap- parently so blended with his imaginative powers, that, in some of his productions, one can hardly tell which predominates. His religious views embrace a simple faith in the Quaker doe- 48 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, trine of the inward light, combined with an intense apprehen- sion of the brotherhood of man. In order to show his devo- tional spirit, we quote the concluding stanza of The Quaker of the Olden Time. 0, spirit of that early day, So pure and strong and true! Be with us in the narrow way Our faithful fathers knew. Give strength the evil to forsake, The cross of Truth to bear, And love and reverent fear to make Our daily lives a prayer! The poems entitled Pollen, Questions of Life, My Soul and I, and others of a similar kind, are exquisite in their delicacy of thought and expression, and show a wrestling with some of the gravest and most perplexing questions that come under the consideration of meditative minds. Whittier rarely writes without being so impressed with some strong feeling, that he cannot fail to awaken a corre- sponding emotion in his reader. Of this, his verses written in memory of his friends bear witness. We would refer emphat- ically to the Lines to a Friend on the Death of his Sister, and to the perfect poem entitled Gone. For the same rea- son, he writes with such energy, as not to give himself much concern about the customary ornaments of poetical diction. His imagery, when he infroduces it, cones without an effort, as the natural accompaniment of his verse, never obtruding it- self on the readers attention, or seeming other than an essen- tial part of the whole. In the fine ballad of Cassandra Southwick, (a young wo- man of Puritan times, who for non-conformity narrowly es- caped being sold into slavery at Barbadoes,) he has happily described that transfiguration which nature seems to undergo in the eyes of one under the influence of some sudden and overpowering e#notion. Immediately on leaving her prison- cell Cassandra exclaims: Oh, at that hour the very earth seemed changed beneath my eye, A holier wonder round me rose the blue walls of the sky, A lovelier light on rock and hill, and stream and woodland lay, And softer lapsed on sunnier sands the waters of the bay. 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 49 One peculiarity of Whittiers imagery is, that so much of it is drawn from the Bible. This book is so the common prop- erty of Christendom, that to resort to it for purposes of poeti- cal illusfration is as justifiable as to resort to the book of Na- ture. He shows a very great familiarity with every part of holy writ, and an exceeding aptness in its citation. Of a brother reformer and poet he speaks as Like Nehemiali, fighting as he wrought. The conjunction of the clergy and laity against the Aboli- tion agitation he characterizes as Pilate and Herod friends! So the North complains to the South of supposed injustice and oppression What though Issachar be strong, Ye may load his back with wrong, Over much and over long. In Margaret Smiths Journal he says: We also found grapes both white and purple hanging down in clusters from the trees, over which the vines did run, nigh upon as large as those which the Jews of old plucked at Eschol. His graphic description will recall to every one the picture in the old fam- ily Bible of the two Israelites staggering under the weight of an enormous bunch of grapes. Other and perhaps better in- stances might be readily selected. The free and dexterous use of proper names is another char- acteristic of our poet. With an affluence of these his exten- sive knowledge supplies him, and he displays uncommon skill in weaving them harmoniously into his verse. Even the long sesquipedalian Indian words present no insuperable difficul- ties. There is something sfrangely impressive in the effect of the introduction of a melodious or sonorous name, particularly if it indicates a place of which we have no personal knowl- edge. The imagination is touched in that vague and myste- rious way in which it delights, and the burden is put upon the reader of supplying the requisite beauty or sublimity to fill out the supposed conception of the author. In this art Milton is the great master, and he had his originals in the epic vOL. LXXIX. NO. 164. 5 50 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, poets of antiquity, while Goldsmith furnishes a rather ludi- crous instance in the well-known line, On Tornos cliffs or Pambamarcas side, the locality of Pambamarca never having been precisely as- certained. In The Bridal of Pennacook, Whittier, describ- ing the Indian marriage feast, gives us the following tempting bill of fare Steaks of the brown bear, fat and large, From the rocky slopes of the Kearsarge; Delicate trout from Babboosuck brook, And salmon speared in the Contoocook; Squirrels which fed where nuts fell thick, In the gravelly bed of the Otternic; And small wild hens, in reed snares caught, From the banks of Sondagardee brought; Pike and perch from the Suncook taken, Nuts from the trees of the Black Hills shaken, Cranberries picked in the Squamscot bog, And grapes from the vines of Piscataquocr. This introduction of proper names, generally fellcitous in Whit- tiers writings, is in some instances overdone, and gives an air of stiffness and pedantry; as in the enumeration of nations in The Worlds Convention. As a consequence of the seeming haste in which many of these poems are written, the author is betrayed into occasion- al inaccuracies of grammar and rhyme. Many of these, which we had observed in his earlier volumes, we are glad to see corrected in the revised collection. But some still remain. Speaking of the tendency of youth to look on the best side of everything, he says Turning, with a power like Midas, All things into gold. The first line is not in accordance with the idiom of the lan- guage, and even if it should be corrected by the addition of an apostrophe after Midas, it would remain clumsy. An ob- vious improvement would be to substitute Turning with the power of Midas. 1854.] JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. 51 We have noticed several inadmissible rhymes, dawn with scorn, curse with us, war with saw and draw, & c. Instances of anything resembling the use of other peoples thoughts are seldom to be found in Whittiers poems. The following, from The Chapel of the Hermits, is hardly a plagiarism That all of good the Past hath had Remains to make our own time glad. But Lowells version is better: The Present moves attended By all of brave and excellent and fair, That made the old time splendid. In closing our notice of Whittiers poetry, we forbear ex- tended remark upon the great variety of his metres, and his unusual success and facility in the management of them. Of his prose style we have already spoken at some length. It is classical, vigorous, and never dull, with a vein of humor running through it, which lacks abandon and seems somewhat inflexible and metallic. We subjoin, as favorable specimens of his humor, txvo anecdotes from Supernaturalism of New England : Nearly opposite to my place of residence, on the south side of the Merrimack, stands a house which has long had a bad reputation for ghosts. One of its recent inmates avers most positively, that, having on one occasion ventured to sleep in the haunted room, she was visited by a child-ghost, which passed through the apartment with a most mourn- ful and unbaby-like solemnity. Some of my unbelieving readers will doubtless smile at this, and deem it no matter of surprise that a maidens slumbers should thus be haunted. As the old playwriter hath it: She blushed and smiled to think upon her dream Of fondling a sweet infant (with a look Like one she will not name) upon her virgin knees. There was a print of the enemy, which made no slight impression upon me when a boy; it was the frontispiece of an old, smoked, snuff- stained pamphlet, the property of an elderly lady (who had a fine col 52 JOHN G. WHITTIER AND HIS WRITINGS. [July, lection of similar wonders, wherewith she was kind enough to edify her young visitors), containing a solemn account of the fate of a wicked dan- cing-party in New Jersey, whose irreverent declaration that they would have a fiddler if they had to send to the lower regions after him, called up the fiend himself; who forthwith commenced playing, while the com- pany danced to the music incessantly, without the power to suspend their exercise until their feet and legs were worn off to the knees! The rude wood-cut represented the demon fiddler, and his agonized companions literally stumping it up and down in cotillions, jigs, strathspeys, and reels. In a different vein are his reflections upon the sight of a parson, showing his tendency to wander from the most com- monplace suggestion into the remote regions of his favorite speculations: In certain states of mind, the very sight of a clergyman in his sombre professional garb is sufficient to awaken all the wonderful with- in me. My imagination goes wandering back to the subtle priesthood of mysterious Egypt, I think of Jannes and Jambres, of the Persian Magi, dim oak groves with Druid altars and priests and victims rise before me. For what is the priest even of our New England, but a living testimony to the truth of the Supernatural and the reality of the Unseen, a man of mystery walking in the shadow of the ideal world, by profession an expounder of spiritual wonders? Whittier is a writer whose sentiments are thoroughly American ; not that he is always in harmony with the prev- alent opinion of his countrymen, but that his productions are deeply imbued with the spirit of our institutions. They con- tain the genuine American docfrmnes of freedom and humanity, brought up to the latest and highest standard. His unmeas- ured sympathy for his kind has led him into a field new and entirely his own, and given him an unquestionable title to the name of an original author. It is the crowning and distin- guishing glory of Wordsworth to have raised to notice the humblest objects of organic and inorganic life, and to have evolved from them latent beauties and significancies, which the many never could have discovered; and Whittier, by yielding to his own generous and ardent instincts, and follow- ing the slave, not in himself an inviting object, and with no claims upon the poet except those of a common humanity, 1854.] EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 53 through the various vicissitudes of his sad lot, has enlarged the domain of our sympathies and won for himself the bene- diction, Blessings be on him and eternal praise, Who gave ns nobler hopes and nobler loves! ART. III. 1. Records of the Governor and Company of the ]Ilassachusetts Bay in New England. Printed by Order of the Legislature. Edited by NATHANIEL B. SHURTLEFF, 1J. D. Boston: From the Press of William White, Print- er to the Commonwealth. 1853. 2. Archa?ologia Americana. Transactions and Collections of the American Antiquarian Society. Vol. III. Part I. Cambridge: Printed for the Society. 1850. THE publication of the early records of the Colony of Mas- sachusetts Bay has been often urged upon the government of the State of Massachusetts; but the State has only just now completed it. Meanwhile, all students of her history, from Hubbard downward, had used the manuscripts. It was well known that they were full, drawn up with care, and compris- ing much valuable detail in illustration of the early history of New England. The manuscript volumes themselves have been of late years very carefully preserved. But it has been certain, that, in the face of all possible care, their illegibility increased? And as long since as May 29, 1844, the American Antiquarian So- ciety, finding that the State was not disposed to attempt the preservation of its own records, took measures to procure a careful copy of the first volume, and directed its publishing committee to publish it, with notes and illustrations. In his valuable collection of works bearing on Massachu- setts history, Dr. Young printed that part of the record which related to the operations of the Company in England, that is, as far as the period when the charter was brought to America by Winthrop, in 1630. In 1850 the publication by the An- 5*

1854.] EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 53 through the various vicissitudes of his sad lot, has enlarged the domain of our sympathies and won for himself the bene- diction, Blessings be on him and eternal praise, Who gave ns nobler hopes and nobler loves! ART. III. 1. Records of the Governor and Company of the ]Ilassachusetts Bay in New England. Printed by Order of the Legislature. Edited by NATHANIEL B. SHURTLEFF, 1J. D. Boston: From the Press of William White, Print- er to the Commonwealth. 1853. 2. Archa?ologia Americana. Transactions and Collections of the American Antiquarian Society. Vol. III. Part I. Cambridge: Printed for the Society. 1850. THE publication of the early records of the Colony of Mas- sachusetts Bay has been often urged upon the government of the State of Massachusetts; but the State has only just now completed it. Meanwhile, all students of her history, from Hubbard downward, had used the manuscripts. It was well known that they were full, drawn up with care, and compris- ing much valuable detail in illustration of the early history of New England. The manuscript volumes themselves have been of late years very carefully preserved. But it has been certain, that, in the face of all possible care, their illegibility increased? And as long since as May 29, 1844, the American Antiquarian So- ciety, finding that the State was not disposed to attempt the preservation of its own records, took measures to procure a careful copy of the first volume, and directed its publishing committee to publish it, with notes and illustrations. In his valuable collection of works bearing on Massachu- setts history, Dr. Young printed that part of the record which related to the operations of the Company in England, that is, as far as the period when the charter was brought to America by Winthrop, in 1630. In 1850 the publication by the An- 5* 64 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. [July, tiquarian Society began. The text was printed with the origi- nal spelling, with illustrative notes, and with a very valuable introductory essay by Mr. S. F. Haven, to whose care the whole work had been intrusted by the Society. In this essay he gives the history of the Origin of the Massachusetts Company; and, after clearing up much which had been very obscure about the overlapping of the lines of patents, and the rights of successive companies, he traces, in some detail, as far as is possible, the lives of the several persons, nearly one hundred, who formed the original Massachusetts Company, under whose auspices the State of Massachusetts began to be. The first part of the Antiquarian Societys publication ended, like Dr. Youngs, with the transfer of the charter to New England. The Society proposed to print the entire con- tents of the first volume, the whole of which had been copied for this purpose. Before this was done, however, Governor Clifford having called the attention of the Council of the State to the decay- ing condition of its oldest original records, and, on the report of a committee of that body, sent a special message to the Legislature recommending earnestly that the first two volumes should be printed by the State, the Legislature passed a resolve in pursuance of his recommendation, on the 2d of May, 18~3. The Secretary of State, who was intrusted with the superintendence of the work, committed it to the hands of Dr. Nathaniel B. Shurtleff, certainly the most fit person, from the union of various essential qualifications, to carry it out promptly and thoroughly; and it was begun at once, and, with an expedition very unusual in such affairs, was com- pleted before the end of the year. We shall have occasion, as we examine it, to speak of the singular accuracy and beauty with which it is printed. This authentic and unabridged edition of the official records of the Company, and the invaluable Journal of Governor Win- throp, make up a mass of material for the early history of Massachusetts, complete to a degree almost without precedent. There are also several early letters, and other printed tracts, which furnish valuable illustrations and supply some deficien- cies. If, then, the history of Massachusetts is not written, it 1864.] EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. is not now for want of material readily accessible for its first pages. Those most competent to judge, indeed, most competent to write it, declare that it is not yet written. Mr. Haven, in his paper on the Origin of the Company, says It is a just remark of the author of the Life of Sir Harry Vane, that the history of the Long Parliament has never been written. It is equally true that the history of Massachusetts remains to be written. What extreme of our united nation is there that has not an interest in its history? For where have not the descendants of its primitive set- tlers carried the moral and political principles they inherited? The genius for government of its founders must be traced in the records of their legislation, and the elements of its public character be deduced from an analysis oft the characters of its prominent men. Mr. Willard says, to the same point, in his recent Lancaster. Address: The history of Massachusetts is still a fresh subject, in hackneyed phrase, is yet to be written. We now want the man. Heaven grant that he may be raised up to us, who will buckle on the armor for this great work. In reviewing the new edition of Winthrop last October, we took the occasion for a sketch of the development of constitu- tional institutions in the Colony, and the growth, under the somewhat inconvenient mechanism of the charter, of the germs of a representative government. The published records more than sustain the views we then expressed as to the good sense and sound political judgment of the founders of this State. It is only when they are read with their own illustration of their own meaning, that they can show, in its full extent, the judgment of these men. It has been very easy, for one glan- cing over the manuscript records, to select an absurd enact- ment here, and another there, to copy them without their connection, even without the repeal which very likely followed at once, and, calling them specimens of the early legislation, to give the impression that Puritan statesmanship in New Eng- land was as ludicrous as the monarchical writers represented it at home. In fact, we have never seen the records of nineteen years of legislation which show progress so steady, and pur- pose so firm in the consolidation of a state, as these indicate. They begin as the records of a commercial company might be 56 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. [July, expected to begin. On its transfer to this country, the record continues, again, as might be expected of the record of the only governing body of a little group of newly settled towns. There is nothing absurd in the collocation of the choice of a Gov- ernor and the fine of a sleepy watchman in the same days proceedings of the General Court. But regularly with an advance really solemn from its simplicity and dignity the government disposes of various portions of its duty to proper officers; the division of labor appears in the work of ad- ministration; the various scattered functions of the com- monwealth array themselves in fitting and beautiful forms in their respective departments; and, out of the chao~ of the mixed business of the Directors meetings, tl~ constitution of a state is born. It would be well, indeed, if the students of government would become conversant with this record, in which not only the vestiges of the creation of a state are pre- sented, but every step in its progress is carefully laid open in exact order. We wish now, however, to call attention to the interest which attaches in England to the history of the Massachusetts Company, and to the influence of the men who united in it on the fortunes of England. Here we see their efforts on a small scale, unimpeded and successful. There we see their efforts, against the prejudices of ages, in reforming a constitu- tion which had elements entirely hostile to their own princi- ples, and in contest with a king who was false to every prin- ciple and every promise. Yet there, with such difficulties, they achieved what measure of success was achieved in the Great Rebellion. We mean to speak carefully when we say they; for it is indeed true, that the very men who in 1630 united to build up New England were the men who were turned to with most confidence, and who responded most heartily, when, in 1642, it became necessary to build Old Eng- land anew. Mr. Haven, in his History of the Origin of the Company, care- fully illustrates this point, and shows how indissolubly united are the histories of the short-lived Commonwealth of England and the long-lived Commonwealth of Massachusetts. After his short biography of the various members of the Company, 1854.] 57 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. both those who remained in England and those who came out to America, about one hundred in all, he says, very truly, that historians have, in general, lost sight of the influ- ence exerted by those who remained at home. But the amount of political influence that can be traced directly to members of the Company is a fact of striking significance, and leads to an inference of combined action, as well as community of sentiment. The town of Dorchester, where the Company had its origin, has been described as one of the earliest positions fortified against Charles I.; as particularly disaffected to the royal cause, more so than any place in England; and as the magazine whence the other places were sup- plied with the principles of rebellion. When the adventurers from the two counties of Dorset and Lin- coln had united to establish their head-quarters at London, they were joined by many of the most prominent and wealthy citizens, as well as by men of standing from most of the country shires. Clarendon says of London, that it was the sink of all the ill-humor in the kingdom; meaning, that the revolutionary tendencies existing in the kingdom were there concentrated and strengthened. If Parliament never became, like the National Assembly of France, the servant of the populace, it was often impelled by the popular voice of the city, while it was sustained by its physical strength and pecuniary resources. When we find in our Company the wealthy merchants, the commanders of the military bands, and the chief municipal officers [of London], we may form some estimate of the amount of public sentiment they would be likely to con- trol. Samuel Vassall * was one of the first to resist the payment of illegal taxes. Hampdens case was only more conspicuous from having been selected for trial by the Kings Council; an honor that Lord Say made great efforts to secure for himself. John Venn,* commander of the train-bands, led the six thousand citizens who surrounded the House of Peers during the trial of Strafford, and shouted Justice! Justice! Thomas Andrews,* the Lord Mayor, assisted by Alderman Bateman * and others, proclaimed the abolition of kingly government, his prede- cessor having declined to perform that office. We refer to these cases now, merely to exemplify the character and position of the London members. Owen Rowe,* that fire-brand of the city, and John Hew- son,* the bold shoemaker, might be adduced for the same purpose. Not only the corporate authorities and organized bodies, but the masses of the metropolis, must have had great weight in the affairs of the * Of the Massachusetts Company. 58 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. [July, period; and many of the most active agitators in the various classes of society were connected with the Massachusetts Company. Arch. Amer., Vol. III. p. cxxvi. The influence of English members of the Company in the Long Parliament appears very distinctly. Clarendon names, as the leading members of its little House of Lords, Viscount Say and Sele, Lord Warwick, and his son-in-law. The two former were both closely connected with the Company, perhaps members. Warwick had given up his patent for its territory, that its new patent might be granted. Both were patentees of other parts of New England. Of about seventy members of the Company who remained in England when Winthrop em- igrated in 1630, many, of course, were dead, before the Long Parliament was chosen in 1640. But of those who survived, twelve were members of that celebrated body, and besides them, Sir Henry Vane, who had been Governor of Massachu- setts in the mean while, was among its prominent leaders. Vane, Pym, and Nathaniel Fiennes held, according to Claren- don, the first place in point of influence; and Pyrn was a patentee of Connecticut, while Fiennes was son of Lord Say and Sele. Mr. Haven follows this line of observation through the whole current of the history of the rebellion. At the trial of Charles, twenty years after the Massachusetts Company was formed, six at least of its members were appointed judges. Three of these were in favor of his execution, two declined acting on the trial, and one refused to sign the death-war- rant. A seventh, Hugh Peters, who spent some time in America, was afterwards executed as a regicide, though he was not a member of the court. Social influences, which were not so distinctly parts of the action of government, showed members of the Massachusetts Company active and forward in the rebellion in other walks of life. In 1643, says Mr. Haven, the fortunes of Charles appeared to be in the ascendant. His troops were victorious, and his opponents were weakened by disunion. The Scotch and English Presbyterians hated the Independents, almost as much as they hated Episcopacy; much more than they disliked Monarchy. A combination of sagacity 1854.] EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 59 and decision were on the other side. In that crisis of affairs, Parlia- ment sent commissioners to Scotland, with ample powers to treat for a nearer union and confederacy. These were the Earl of Rutland, Sir William Armyne, Harry Vane, Thomas Hatcher, and Henry Darley; attended by Philip Nye, and Stephen Marshall, whose daughter Nye had married. It was, however, upon the diplomatic subtlety of Vane, and the great shrewdness of Nye, [both members of the Massachusetts Company,] who was seldom, if ever, outwitted, that Parliament de- pended for the success of the mission. When it was ascertained that no conciliation could be effected without an adoption of the Scottish Cov- enant, Sir Harry Vane contrived to render the bitter alternative more palatable to the English, by inserting phraseology which admitted of double construction. By this means the two houses of Parliament, and the Westminster A~sembly of Divines and Laymen, were induced to meet, for the purpose of signifying their concurrence. At this point, we find John White, the minister, [also of the Company,] and Philip Nyc, combining their efforts to smooth the way for a disagreeable act of necessity. Mr. Whites prayer, an hour in length, and Mr. Nyes introductory speech, are all the ceremonies noticed, before taking the question on a measure that manifestly turned the dubious scale against the king. Arch. Amer., Vol. III. p. cxxviii. Two major-generals of the Parliaments army, Brereton and llewson, were of the Massachusetts Company, and several others of its members were in the service. Stephen Winthrop, who succeeded Harrison in the office of Major- General, was son of our Governor Winthrop; and Robert Sedgwick, who held the same office under Cromwell, was a Charlestown man. He was with Governor Winslow of Plymouth in the commission of three which Cromwell sent with his unsuccessful enterprise against the Spanish West Indies. Leverett, afterwards Governor of Massachusetts, had been a captain under Cromwell, having returned to England after some years spent in this counfry. It is not merely true, then, as has been often suggested, that the New-Englanders found their Colonies and themselves patronized by the new government. They and their old asso- ciates belonged to the very class of men, and were the very men themselves, who had made the new government. It was therefore quite a matter of course that emigration from the old motive should end suddenly with the success of the Par- 60 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. [July, liament. It was quite a matter of course, that, when, in 1642, Harvard College sent out its first sons, most of them, even be- fore the success of the Parliamentary struggle, should return to the home where their friends were men of influence. It was quite a matter of course that Cromwell should always re- gard the Colonies with favor. In fact, it would be no exag- geration to say, that from the time when Henry VII. gave John Cabot ten pounds because he had discovered the New World, down to the time when George III., his great-great- granddaughters great-great-grandson, succeeded in alienat- ing his North American Colonies, and throwing them away, Cromwell was the only sovereign of England who appreci- ated the importance of her American possessions. The gallantry of the Colonial government, considering its extreme weakness, in tendering its support to the Parliament, is, indeed, almost pathetic. Whereas, says the Record, the civill wans and dissentions in our native country, through the seditious words and carriages of many evill affected persons, cause divisions in many places of government in America, some professing themselues for the king, and others for the Par- liament, not considering that the Parliament themselues professe that they stand for the king and Parliament against the malignant Papists and de- linquents in that kingdome, it is therefore ordered, that what person so- ever shall, by word, writing, or action, endeavor to disturbe our peace, directly or indirectly, by drawing a party, under pretence that he is for the king of England, and such as adioyne with him, against the Parlia- ment, shalbe accounted as an offender of an high nature against this com- mon wealth, and to be proceeded with either capitally or otherwise, ac- cording to the quality ~nd degree of his offence; provided alwayes, that this shall not be extended against any marchant, strangers, and shipmen that come hither meerly for matter of trade and marchandize, albeit they should come from any of those ports that are in the hands of the king, and such as adhere to them against the Parliament, earning themselues here quietly, and free from raising or nurishing any faction, mutiny, or sedition amongst us, as aforesaid. Col. Rec., Vol. II. p. 69. This was on May 29, 1644, at which session the General Court put its arrangements for defence or offence upon a more scientific footing than they had before rested on. Major-Gen- eral Dudley was commissioned to command the army of the 1854.] EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 61 little commonwealth. Dudley had learned the military art under so distinguished a leader as Henry IV. of France. Thus singularly do the names and the influence of the lead- ing characters of the Old World appear in the early annals of the New. In the Records, we think we find a desire to veil the various military preparations under more talk of the In- dians than there was real necessity of. There was no naval power except that of the king of England, which, in 1644, the Colony had immediate reason to fear. So highly did Crom- well appreciate the Colonys sympathy, that, while the other plantations, Virginia, Maryland, and the Bermudas, were com- pelled to submit to the provisions of the Navigation Act, to re- ceive all their imports in English ships, and to ship all their exports to England or her colonies, the New England colo- nies retained their old freedom of trade, and were permitted to do so, simply, it would appear, by special favor of Crom- well and the Parliament. Indeed, the Colonys loyalty to the Commonwealth was much more demonstrative than had ever been its loyalty to the king. Sir Ferdinando Gorges had very early intimated that the intention of its leaders was to set up for themselves. They never avowed this intention publicly, and probably scarcely did in private. But without distinct avowal of it, they were no doubt constantly looking at the possibility or the necessity of an independent state. There is scarcely an allu- sion to the home government in the Records before the out- breaking of the civil war. Such allusion as there is, is any- thing but loyal. The difficulty about using the cross in the standards borne by the troops is an instance. The Common- wealths men afterwards bore the cross in their standards, and stamped it upon their coin. But Roger Williams and Endicott cut it out of the ensigns here, as idolatrous; and though the General Court professed to reprove them, yet it appears from Winthrop, that the matter was adjusted, in 1635, by a vote not to use the ensign at all. In fact, in Vanes ad- ministration, when it had been agreed, after long discussion, that the colors should be shown on the fort, the Colony had no colors to show, a remarkable position for a British col- ony in the sixth year of its existence. vOL. LXXIX. NO. 164. 6 62 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. [July, Another instance where the home government is alluded to during this period, though not named in the Records, is in the preparations for fortifying the seaports in 1634, in the fourth year of the Colony. The Records do not speak of the naval enemy feared. Undoubtedly, there were reasons for fortification in the neighborhood of the dissatisfied French in Nova Scotia. But it is to be remarked, at the same time, that a rumor had just come that an English Governor-General for the Colonies was to be appointed. The magistrates had taken advice of the ministers, and appear to have acquiesced in their decision, which was, that if a General Governor were sent, we ought not to accept him, but defend our lawful possessions if we were able, otherwise to avoid or protract. Hutchinson suggests, indeed, in his history of the next year, 1635, when Vane came over, and, as he thought, Pym, Hampden, Hasle- rigg, and Cromwell meant to come, that the Royalist party in England then would not have been sorry to have been rid of the heads of what was deemed a faction in government, and to have had no further connection with them. Be this as it may, the success of that faction in England was the confirma- tion of the loyalty to England of the Colony here. It had never been loud in professions of loyalty to Charles, nor had it any reason for being so. There is not much, it is true, which can be quoted from the Records, to substantiate the impression that the Colonists cared little for the royal government, and were very glad to keep out of its notice and out of its way. But the very fact that there is next to nothing about that government is reniarkable. That, in the infancy of their enterprise, they make no appeal to it at all, is important, though indefinite, testimony. The whole legislation is that of a state which had complete powers within itself. No favor, no aid, is asked of the government at home. The Governor and Assistants, in the first forms of the oaths, are sworn to be faithful to King Charles; but he is not mentioned in any of the oaths of other offices. And it now appears, that in the form drawn up in 1643, as soon as the civil war began, the oath of allegiance to the king was omitted even in those instances. This was long before allegiance to the king was omitted from any similar oaths in England. In- 1854.J EAP~LY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 63 deed, almost the only other allusion to the king, in the first twelve years, is the half-way compliment of an order, in 1636, six years after the settlement, that the Kings majesties armes shall be erected in all places of judicature soc soon as they can be hadd. In this view of the relations of the Colony, we see nothing improbable in the story, repeated by most of the older writers, that in 1636, 1637, or 1638, Harnpden, Haslerigg, Pym, and Cromwell proposed to join it. There is no doubt that their as- sociate, Rowe, did. Mr. Bancroft rejects the story, because it has no Puritan authorities in its support, and because it argues a desertion of the good cause by those men. This latter view cannot be sustained, if, in their minds and in the minds of its leaders, the ultimate prosperity of the Colony was regarded as quite independent of the favor of the king. In 1643, the House of Commons passed the statute under which the Colony enjoyed free trade with the mother country, with a decided compliment to the value of the Colony to Eng- land. Our limits do not permit us to extend these illustrations of the unusually close connection of the rulers and politics of the two commonwealths. It seldom happens that the same body of political experimenters have the opportunity to test their principles in txvo fields. The Puritans were thus favored. They had started Massachusetts well, when Providence gave them a chance to try their skill in England. In the larger ex- periment, after magnificent successes, they were swept away at last, by the latent power of English conservatism, to make room for rulers as manly, as religious, as skilful in states- manship, and exhibiting such divine right to rule, as Charles II. and his brother James. In Massachusetts, the little ex- periment, they were more successful. When, a few years ago, the English Parliament, in ordering that the statues of the sovereigns of England should be set up in its new palace, thought fit to omit the statue of Cromwell, that sovereign to whom England owes it that she ever ruled the seas, we could not but think that it would be a fit memorial of the ser- vices which that great man rendered to the men of Massachu- setts, and which the men of Massachusetts rendered to him, 64 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. [July, if his statue should be erected in some public place in her cap- ital. It is true that his system did not survive long in Eng- land. It is as true that it has survived to this day here. The statue might stand in Boston till it was wanted in London. We must pass by many of the curious details of early Colonial customs which come to light on the perusal of the Records for the first twenty years. The encouragement early given to internal improvement, in cutting a canal in Cam- bridge from the river, enlarges into an effort to make Cape Ann an island, and shows itself afterwards in other forms. The encouragement of manufacturing industry is curious, beginning with an effort on the wild hemp (Apocynum can- nabinum), and passing to salt, saltpetre (so essential for gun- powder, the instrumentall meanes that all nations lay hould on for their preservations), glass-works, iron-works, wool, ship- building, wine-making, and leather; and its history in so short a time shows a speedy development of real independence here. The rapid growth of the foreign commerce of the Colony has often been remarked. It was as early as 1645, that its noble protest against the slave-trade was uttered Oct. 1, 1645. The Court thought fit to write to Mr. Williams, of Pascataqua, (understanding that the negers which Capt. Smyth brought were fraudulently & iniuriously taken & brought from Ginny, by Capt. Smiths Confession, & the rest of the Company,) that he forthwith send the neger which he had of Capt. Smyth hither, that he may be sent home, which the Court doth resolve to send back without delay. Nov. 4, 1645. The Generall Corte, conceiving themselves bound by the first oportunity to bear witness against the haynos & crying sinu of man stealing, as also to prescribe such timely redresse for what is past, & such a law for the future as may sufficiently deterr all others belonging to us to have to do in such vile & most odious courses, iustly abhorred of all good & just men, do order, that the negro inter- preter, with others unlawfully taken, be, by the first oportunity, (at the charge of the country for present,) sent to his native country of Ginny, & a letter with him of the indignation of the Corte thereabouts, and iustice hereof, desireing our honored Governor would please to put this order in execution. Vol. II. pp. 136, 168. It must be observed, that for authorities regarding the Eng- lish associations of the founders of the Colony, we have been 6 1854.1 EARLY RECORDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 65 drawing chiefly from Mr. Havens paper, which serves as an Introduction to the Records. The States edition of the Rec- ords very properly omits all notes of whatever sort, except such as are necessary in explaining the handwriting of the manu- script, or other mechanical peculiarities. The two volumes are admirably printed, and are said to be the most precise reproduction of manuscript ever attempted in type. This is what the Massachusetts edition of the Massachusetts Records should be. All the ancient spelling is exactly followed. Even the abbreviations are copied, in type arranged for the purpose. If a bit of short-hand appears in the margin of the text, a fac- simile of it is in the printed book. And, as the book has been stereotyped, it has been possible, we learn, to secure, by suc- cessive revisions, a degree of accuracy which could not have been otherwise attained, and which leaves no danger of error. A very good fac-simile of the ancient seal is on the title-page. It is the same as the present seal of the State, but that now the State arms bear a crest, the right arm holding a sword, and that the old motto, Come over and help us, so hos- pitable and at the same time so modest, is changed for Syd- neys line (of which the arm is the nominative case) Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem. A change of motto could hardly be expected to show so well the change from a colony to a state. We can conceive no motive but curiosity which shall ever induce any student henceforth to refer to the venerable man- uscripts. A small edition only has been printed, but the General Court itself is so well satisfied with the manner in which the task has been performed, that it has ordered a second edition, and directed that the next three volumes, and the beginning of the sixth, shall be printed in the same way. These bring up the records to the time of President Dudley, in 1686. For the presidency of Dudley in 1686, and for the first year of the usurpation of Andros, the records have recently been restored by copies from the State Paper Office in London. But from December 29, 1687, to the overthrow of Andros, there is a gap, the only important gap in the records of the State, 6* 66 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, amounting to rather more than a year. The resolve now passed contemplates the printing of these copies, so as to bring the records up to the time when the folio edition of The Acts and Laws, published in 1699 by Order of the Gov- ernor and Council, begins. Such an authentic and complete monument of history as the two volumes which are now published make, is so inter- esting, when read with Mr. Havens careful Introduction and his and Dr. Youngs notes, and with Winthrop and the Chron- icles of Massachusetts for guides, illustrations, and lighters where the text is heavy, that the Records lose the character of a statute-book, and assume much more that of volumes of annals. It is an honor to Governor Cliffords administration, that he has opened them to his constituents. It would be impossible to ask that the work should be better done. ART. IV. 1. Reports of the Trustees, Steward, and Superin- tendent of the Insane Hospital. [Maine.] 1854. 2. Reports of the Trustees, 4.c. of the Butler Hospital for the Insane. Providence, R. I. 1854. 3. Twenty-first Annual Report of the Trustees of the State Lunatic Asylum. [Massachusetts.] 4. Thirty-sixth Annual Report on the State of the Asylum for the Relief of Persons deprived of the Use of their Reason. [Frankford, Pa.] 1854. 5. Report of the Pennsylvania Hospital for the Insane, 4-c. 1854. 6. Annual Report of the Officers, 4-c. of the New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum. 1854. 7. Eleventh Annual Report of the 1ITanao~ers of the State Lunatic Asylum. [New York.] 1854. 8. Sixteenth Annual Report of the Ohio Lunatic Asylum. 1854. 9. Twenty-sixth Annual Report of the President, 4-c. of the Western Lunatic Asylum. [Virginia.] 1854.

66 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, amounting to rather more than a year. The resolve now passed contemplates the printing of these copies, so as to bring the records up to the time when the folio edition of The Acts and Laws, published in 1699 by Order of the Gov- ernor and Council, begins. Such an authentic and complete monument of history as the two volumes which are now published make, is so inter- esting, when read with Mr. Havens careful Introduction and his and Dr. Youngs notes, and with Winthrop and the Chron- icles of Massachusetts for guides, illustrations, and lighters where the text is heavy, that the Records lose the character of a statute-book, and assume much more that of volumes of annals. It is an honor to Governor Cliffords administration, that he has opened them to his constituents. It would be impossible to ask that the work should be better done. ART. IV. 1. Reports of the Trustees, Steward, and Superin- tendent of the Insane Hospital. [Maine.] 1854. 2. Reports of the Trustees, 4.c. of the Butler Hospital for the Insane. Providence, R. I. 1854. 3. Twenty-first Annual Report of the Trustees of the State Lunatic Asylum. [Massachusetts.] 4. Thirty-sixth Annual Report on the State of the Asylum for the Relief of Persons deprived of the Use of their Reason. [Frankford, Pa.] 1854. 5. Report of the Pennsylvania Hospital for the Insane, 4-c. 1854. 6. Annual Report of the Officers, 4-c. of the New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum. 1854. 7. Eleventh Annual Report of the 1ITanao~ers of the State Lunatic Asylum. [New York.] 1854. 8. Sixteenth Annual Report of the Ohio Lunatic Asylum. 1854. 9. Twenty-sixth Annual Report of the President, 4-c. of the Western Lunatic Asylum. [Virginia.] 1854. S 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 67 10. Annual Reports of the Commissioners, 4.c. of the Indiana Hosp ital for the Insane. 1854. 11. Report of the Trustees of the Massachusetts General Hospital. 1854. THESE documents remind us of a class of charitable institu- tions among us, strongly indicative of the philanthropy and science of our times. Those worthy people who see, in the future progress of the race, only a steady increase of selfish- ness and vice, would do well to consider the history of the noble enterprise which has been so rapidly and satisfactorily accomplished. Eighty years ago we had not a single estab- lishment devoted exclusively to the care and treatment of the insane. Now they number nearly thirty, and contain about six thousand patients, supported, more or less, at the public expense. If modern humanity had no greater triumph to record than this, it would be amply sufficient to redeem the character of the age from the imputations which the faithless and desponding have been too ready to cast upon it. Such is the contrast between the management of the insane now, and what it was fifty years ago, that one can scarcely help suspecting that even the most faithful description of the latter is heightened by exaggeration and false coloring. But it is a fact, abundantly verified, that this unfortunate class has al- ways included many who, long before the impress of the Di- vinity was entirely erased from their minds, were banished from the sight, and sooner or later, from the kindly sympathies of friends and relatives, and dragged on a wretched existence in jails and poor-houses, in cold and filth, in solitude and chains, abandoned to the tender mercies of ignorant and irresponsible keepers. Insanity is a terrible calamity at best, but then it was the climax of all human woes, for it contained an ingredi- ent unknown in any other misfortune, exclusion, not only from hearts and homes to which nature gave a claim, but from the sight of familiar faces, from the ministrations of kindness, and from every circumstance of hope or of joy. In this condition, the process of derangement and destruction was rapidly hastened, until nothing but a clod of the valley, a caput mortuum of humanity, remained. Now, on the con- 68 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, trary, in most parts of our country, the humblest individual, when stricken down by this calamity, receives the benefit of all the means and appliances which science has discovered and philanthropy brought into active operation, for the pur- pose of restoring him to himself and mitigating the evils inci- dent to his lot. In comfortable apartments expressly designed for meeting the exigencies of his case, enjoying the pure air and light of heaven, perhaps in the midst of agreeable scenery, expending his surplus energies in useful employment, and guided in the ways of propriety by kind voices and gentle re- strictions, he passes through the various stages of his disorder, whether terminating in recovery, or hopeless, chronic disease. And even when made fully aware of the magnitude of this contrast, few can properly appreciate the means by which the change was effected. When Pinel entered the cells of the Bic6tre, and struck off the chains of the furious maniacs, he manifested that kind of courage, of self-reliance, and of superiority to the current no- tions of the age, which is indispensable to the success of any enterprise that is to constitute an epoch in the history of the race. Without precedent and against the remonstrances of his friends, guided and supported only by a faith, enlightened by the results of observation, no doubt, but still, no less won- derful nor sublime than the highest inspirations of genius, he dealt the first and the decisive blow at a treatment which, re- pulsive as it was, seemed to be required by an imperious ne- cessity. About the same time, similar views were successfully acted upon in England, by a true-hearted Quaker, Benjamin Tuke, who, in the spirit of his faith, conceived that the insane, as well as the sane, would be best managed by methods of kindness, conciliation, and good-will. Aided by the benevo- lence of his sect, he established an institution near York, the management of which was distinguished by the complete, systematic exclusion of everything harsh, whether regarded as punishment or necessary restraint. Of course, some time was required before the influence of these experiments could be thoroughly impressed upon the management of the insane. Long after the fame of the York Retreat had spread over the kingdom, and nobles had solicited the privilege of sharing its 1854.1 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 69 benefits, men were slow to believe that there was no natural affinity between insanity, and chains and stripes, and one could not traverse a lunatic hospital even in England, without witnessing whips, fetters, or iron collars. To inspire the pa- tient with fear, and break his will, at all hazards, by blows, confinement, and every species of contumely, if milder means could not effect the object, was the cardinal principle in the moral treatment of the insane, up to a very recent period. Within the memory of the present generation, and within two hours ride of this city, was a private establishment where bleed- ing and purgatives were not more relied upon, than harsh words, whipping, and partial drowning. The more refractory were in- closed in a coffin-like box pierced with holes, and then lowered into a well where they were kept submerged in the water, until the bubbles of air ceased to rise, when they were brought up, and by rubbing, warmth, and other restoratives, fully re- suscitated. No attempt was made to conceal these practices. They were well known in the community, and supposed to belong to the most approved methods of treatment. In the infancy of even our most distinguished hospitals there was a deficiency of furniture and of other little conveniences, and a cheerh~ssn~ess in all their appointments, which would scarcely be tolerated now. In this country, the history of hospitals for the insane is comprised, for the most part, within a comparatively recent period. To the Old Dominion belongs the honor of possess- ing the first institution devoted exclusively to the care of the insane. It originated in an act of the Colonial government in 1769, and the building was opened for patients in 1773. Into the general hospitals founded in the principal cities, the insane had been admitted, with more or less special provision for their treatment. In some instances, one or two wards, in others, a distinct structure on the premises, was appropriated to their exclusive use. Insanity in its recent state was supposed by medical men to require, like other acute diseases, an active med- ication and a low diet, and to this end their attention was chiefly directed. Its mental element was very little regarded, and con- sequently the idea of operating directly upon the mind could seldom be discerned in the treatment of the physician. The 70 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, general fact that such operation is beneficial was undoubtedly admitted, and remarkable instances thereof had been recorded, but all this was very far from a recognition of the great prin- ciple, that the restoration and comfort of the insane require, in addition to drugs and diet, a special management of the moral and intellectual faculties. When this principle began to be recognized in our country, the inappropriateness and inefficiency of the existing arrangements became obvious, and thus originated the opinion, now universally received, that the proper care and treatment of the insane require that they should be associated together in establishments devoted ex- clusively to them, at a little distance from populous commu- nities, and endowed with the necessary means for an efficient moral treatment. Coincident with this opinion there arose another equally important to the accomplishment of great re- sults, namely, that the pauper insane are morally, if not legally, the wards of the State, and that, in order to fulfil the duties of this relation, the State must provide institutions expressly de- signed for their custody and cure. Next to Virginia, Massa- chusetts recognized her obligation as a State to provide for the insane, and the generous style in which she began to discharge it was shown in the hospital at Worcester, which was opened in 1833. From time to time other States followed the exam- ple, and now more than half of the whole number that com- pose the Union possess hospitals for their insane, supported, more or less, by their respective governments, while in several others the munificence of individuals has rendered the action of the State unnecessary. Any account of American institutions for the insane, with- out particular mention of an individual whose labors, if meas- ured by their results, are unparalleled in the history of benev- olent enterprise, would be like acting the play with the part of Hamlet left out. During the last twelve or fifteen years, this indefatigable woman, without the advantages of fortune or even of robust health, but relying solely on her own strong will and the goodness of her cause, has made particular inves- tigation of the condition of the insane in at least a dozen of the States and three or four of the British provinces; visiting, for this purpose, a large proportion of their jails, poor-houses, 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 71 and other receptacles of misfortune and disease. No obstacle has ever been allowed to deter her from pursuing and com- pleting her inquiries. Steadily and quietly she has traversed the length and breadth of the land, and neither opposition nor reproach, neither the rigors of climate nor the pestilence that walketh at noonday, neither fatigue nor sickness, has found her, for a moment, faltering in her course. In this voyage of discovery, this circumnavigation of charity, probably no other individual ever witnessed so much physical and mental suffering as she has, for the sole purpose of gauging its di- mensions and preparing the proper measures for its relief. The facts thus obtained have been laid before the Legislatures of the respective States, and have proved to be an irresistible appeal, without a single exception, to their sense of humanity and justice. In most instances an act establishing a hospital has been passed and carried into effect without unreasonable delay. On no other occasion have the State Legislatures so promptly and effectively responded to the benevolent instincts of the heart, as they have, during the last twenty-five years, in providing for the welfare of this unfortunate and helpless class of our fellow-men. It is to be regretted, however, that the movement has been too much controlled by economical considerations, and that too often the question has been, not how well, but how cheaply, the thing can be done. To meet this spirit, estimates of cost have been made too low, and consequently, points have been sacrificed that were absolutely necessary to the perfect attainment of the object. Hence ensued lame and unsatisfac- tory results calculated to discourage the benevolent and to fill the ignorant with suspicion and distrust. Of course, in un- dertakings of this kind economy is not to be disregarde d,but when allowed to frustrate or mar an important end, it is no longer a virtue. The most superficial inspection of our luna- tic hospitals will furnish abundant illustrations of this prin- ciple. Little conveniences that have become associated with every ones ideas of domestic comfort may have been omitted; the service is laborious, perhaps, and therefore imperfectly performed, for want of suitable arrangements; the classifica- tion of the patients may be poorly provided for, or the fixtures 72 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, frail and inadequately secured, or the supply of water deficient, or the ventilation trusted to nature. The whole establishment has a narrow and cramped appearance, probably with a mean exterior, presenting, perhaps, some abortive attempts at archi- tectural display, while the grounds have been suffered to remain very much as Providence left them. The lunatic hospital does not exist among us, in which nothing is wanted to fit it com- pletely for its destined purpose. It is far from being generally understood how important a part architectural arrangements act in the custody and cure of the insane. They are a substi- tute, in some degree, for human vigilance and care, and in many ways are intimately coiinected with the comfort of the inmates. Instead of being a matter of secondary considera- tion, to be determined by the fancy of the builder, they are in fact of the highest importance, and if managed in a spirit of niggardly economy, the institution is deprived, to that degree, of its power to accomplish its purpose, and is as clearly a spe- cimen of folly as a mill with an inadequate supply of power, or a vessel with too large a draught for the stream it is to navigate. The time will come, we hope, when nations will feel that their honor is more deeply affected by the condition of their benevolent institutions, than by those achievements in science or art which enable them to injure one another, or which, at most, only advance their material interests. If Brother Jon- athan sends to his kindred over the water a reaper that cre- ates an epoch in the history of agricultural improvements, or a yacht that outsails the fleetest craft, or a fire-arm that does unparalleled execution, Mr. Bull immediately sets about get- ting up a better reaper, or a swifter yacht, or a more destructive fire-arm. This only induces the younger brother to gird up his loins, and determine to outstrip himself. But when a hospital has been established by either, capable of fulfilling its proper objects to an unprecedented degree, we have never heard of any wonderful alacrity being displayed by the other in excelling or even imitating it. Had it been otherwise, we should not now be obliged to record the fact, that, within half a dozen years, lunatic hospitals better than some of ours which we have been pleased to call models have been pulled 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 73 down in England, to make way for others embracing the im- provements of the time. That every existing establishment should, in its turn, be left behind by the progress of improve- ment, is just what might be expected, and furnishes no ground of complaint But when they go up, not only without those improvements which have been introduced elsewhere, but dis- figured by wretched contrivances and arrangements strictly original, we cannot help being chagrined and discouraged. Still we have faith to believe that we are not to be left behind in this sphere of benevolent enterprise, and that the nation which beats the universe in clippers, reapers, locks, and pistols, is not to be beaten without an effort in those institutions which are designed to accomplish a great work of humanity. From an undue regard for economy, and deficient informa- tion, a bad model for our lunatic asylums was early adopted, and we have gone on ever since, with an occasional exception, repeating all its defects, and dropping, one after another, its better features. The central part of the building was appro- priated to the officers, the domestics, and the various services required in a large household. To each end of it was joined that portion of the structure designed expressly for the patients. It had three stories, each containing two continuous ranges of bedrooms opening upon an intermediate hall or gallery as it is called, eight or ten feet in breadth and from fifty to a hundred feet in length. If additional means of accoin- modation were required, a similar structure was repeated, either joining the other at right angles, or lapping on at its end and extending in a parallel line. Smaller structures, at a little distance, were erected for the violent and noisy classes. Day-rooms and dining-rooms were obtained by omitting the partitions between two or three bedrooms, though frequently the gallery itself served as a day-room. Bathing-rooms and water-closets were forced into some obscure corner, though the latter were not always found anywhere, in the older struc- tures. The room appropriated to the attendant was one of the range of bedrooms, with no especial facilities for observa- tion. The galleries were low, and imperfectly lighted at one or both ends, and the staircases by which they communicated were winding and narrow. The building was warmed by voL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 7 74 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, means of stoves, cockles, or furnaces in the cellar, which im- parted their heat to an inadequate amount of fresh air, and also furnished no stinted supply of smoke or gas. A few flues in the walls, capable of carrying off a cupful of air, and ter- minating in the attic, performed the office of ventilation. The dread of expense and distrust of the patients led to a scanty supply of furniture, so that, beyond a bed by night and a bench by day, most of the patients had nothing around them but naked walls and a monotonous succession of bedroom doors. Even the rooms of the better classes were not always furnished with tables, looking-glasses, or wash-stands, and a carpet was something the wildest imagination had never dreamed of. The whole scene was cheerless, dismal, and forbidding; and if the patient were cured, it was not, certainly, in conse- quence of any favorable influence exerted by objects immedi- ately around him. The desire of obtaining something better has been occa- sionally felt, but from causes already adverted to, aided per- haps by a remarkable complacency in what had been actually done, the progress of improvement has been slow and fitful. The erection of the McLean Asylum, in this vicinity, opened in 18t8, gave the first notable impulse to the art of hospital construction in this country. True, the old model, such as we have described, was used, but all its better qualities were re- tained, and some of its imperfections improved. Comfortable day-rooms, eating-rooms, bathing-rooms, and water-closets were provided, the fixtures were convenient, substantial, and well finished, and the whole interior had a tolerably light and cheerful aspect. But it was in the addition subsequently built, under the direction chiefly of Dr. Wyman, the super- intendent, that the greatest advance was made. Besides the mental qualities desirable in one having charge of the insane, this gentleman possessed a consfructive genius which was abun- dantly indicated in all his architectural arrangements. These he adapted to the peculiar exigencies of the insane with a de- gree of success which, under the circumstances, was certainly remarkable. He was not a man blindly to copy his model, but every feature of it was studied, and, generally, improved. The building which thus embodied the results of his ingenuity 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 75 and mechanical talent, and at the same time provided the means of carrying into effect his views of moral management, presented a great advance upon any previous structure of the kind. Many of its mechanical contrivances have never been surpassed, for the object was perfectly attained, though occa- sionally in a somewhat awkward and circuitous manner. Un- like too many who have labored in the same field, he never troubled himself with makeshifts. Whatever he did was designed for the future, and it bore indications of the sub- stantial and the enduring. The lighter, frailer style of build- ing, now so prevalent, may be cheaper in the outset, but it unquestionably is dearer in the end, and finally becomes not very agreeable to behold. The establishment xvhich next followed the McLean Asylum was erected by the State of Massachusetts, at Worcester, and though, in its general character, not very different from the former, yet it wanted many of the details designed to meet definite and important ends, while its cheap and flimsy style of construction presented a striking contrast to the finished, massive features of the other. Being intended for the poorer classes, it was unwisely concluded that every subordinate object might be disregarded, provided the principal one the custody of the patient were secured. It was the first con- siderable example of very cheap construction, and one, unfor- tunately, which building-committees have been too ready to imitate. A few years afterwards, a hospital for the insane was erected near New York, and another near Philadelphia, offshoots from the General Hospitals of those cities. They are both highly creditable to the country, and in many of their details could scarcely be improved. In the latter, the provis- ions for the violent classes have been carried to a degree of excellence that has never been surpassed. At both institu- tions much attention has been given to the improvement of the grounds by judicious planting, until they have become uncommonly beautiful. This is a point which has been de- plorably neglected among us, and nothing could be more bar- ren or cheerless than the grounds around many of our hospitals for the insane. Few persons sane or insane have so little sense of beauty as not to be favorably impressed by trees and 76 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, shrubs, groves, gardens, walks and fountains, tastefully dis- posed; and such impressions may be regarded as among the most salutary that can be made upon the disordered mind. It will be unnecessary to allude particularly to the hospitals that have been erected within the last eight or ten years. While the most of them have each some particular merit of its own, they labor under the common defect of being more or less behind the times. Desirous of avoiding this fault, the Trustees of the Butler Hospital in Providence, R. I., before erecting their building, engaged Dr. Bell, the superintendent of the McLean Asylum, to visit Europe, in 184~, and gather such information as would be available for their purpose. Guided by the results of his observations abroad, as well as of his own practical experience in the care of the insane, he digested a plan differing in many important features from any other among us, and differing, we believe, for the better. It was adopted by the Trustees, with a few unessential changes re- quired by their pecuniary means, and we doubt not it has exerted a favorable influence upon the progress of hospital construe- lion in this country. Its lofty ceilings, its broad galleries with only a single range of bedrooms, its appropriate arrangements for attendants, its commodious associated dormitories, and its graceful elevation, have been more or less copied in subsequent establishments, which, but for this example, might have been only repetitions of the old model. These institutions have now become so numerous that their proper functions and true position will soon, we trust, be more correctly appreciated than they have been hitherto. For sev- eral years past, the medical gentlemen who have charge of them have met together annually, in different places, to confer upon the various subjects connected with their calling, to ex- change ideas, and from their mutual communications to de- rive fresh light and vigor in the prosecution of their work. Their conclusions, especially when sanctioned by the unani- mous voice of the association, are justly entitled to a degree of confidence that would scarcely be claimed for the views of any individual. At their convention in 1851, they put forth unanimously a series of propositions relative to the construc- tion of hospitals for the insane, embodying the results to 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 77 which the progress of knowledge had unquestionably led. These have aiready been regarded with some deference by building-committees, and it is to be hoped that their authority will soon be universally recognized. Availing ourselves of their suggestions as well as the results of our own experience, we shall describe the most prominent of those arrangements which are desirable, if not indispensable, in a hospital for the insane. The general form now usually adopted for these establish- ments, being unquestionably the best adapted to our circum- stances, while it also combines the greatest number of advan- tages, is what is called the linear, the different portions of the edifice joining one another at their extremities, in regular succession. The method somewhat common abroad, of building in several quadrangles of a single story, though well enough in such regions as France and Italy, where much of the patients time can, and indeed must be, spent in the open air, is inadmissible with us, where many circumstances, espe- cially facilities of warming and ventilation, require a more con- centrated arrangement. Whether the different portions of the edifice should be placed on the same or parallel lines, or join one another at right angles, is a question of subordinate importance, for each has its advantages, and in neither is any important point sacrificed. In this country they have usually been three stories high, but in an establishment designed for two hundred or two hundred and fifty patients, and that should be the exfreine limit of capacity, every purpose of convenience, to say nothing of architectural effect, can be ob- tained with two stories, excepting in the projections and ex- tremities, which might be carried up an additional story, to be used for dormitories, or work-rooms. The kitchen, laundry, & c. are often placed in the basement, but, for many reasons, they had better be in a separate structure, either joined to or a little remote from the main one. If the former plan is adopted, the communication may be sufficiently interrupted to prevent the transmission of odors, by discontinuing the ma- sonry at the point of junction, and substituting a lattice of iron or stone, provided with shutters. A current of air would then pass from one side to the other, and thus prevent, in a 7 78 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, great measure, an evil of no fifing magnitude in an estab- lishment where pure air is a necessary of life. The cellar may be used for store-rooms, warming-appara- tus, & c., but never for patients rooms. The association de- clares, in the propositions just referred to, that no lodging- room for patients should be below the level of the ground. Such rooms must always be badly lighted, and often so damp as to be unhealthy. In one of our largest hospitals, where they were extensively provided, it was found by several years experience that the inmates were prone to diarrhcea and dys- entery, and they were finally abandoned. A more unfortu- nate attempt at economy has seldom been made, and we trust that no future building-committee will be fool-hardy enough to repeat it. The space on which the bedrooms open, called by the vari~~ ous names of hall, gallery, and corridor, is, in most of our in- stitutions, a passage-way eight or ten feet wide, between two ranges of bedrooms, and imperfectly lighted at one or both ends. This gallery is something more than a means of access to the bedrooms, for it usually serves as a day-room. It should never be less than twelve feet wide, and should have but one range of rooms opening upon it. On the other side, the light should be admitted through spacious windows, and thus the inmates should have constantly before their eyes the surrounding country, which is, certainly, a more agreeable ob- ject to behold, than a monotonous range of doors in a dreary expanse of brick wall. This form of gallery has always pre- vailed in Great Britain, and we have abandoned it solely from considerations of economy. It is always desirable that there should be connected with the gallery an apartment to be used especially as a day-room. Where the gallery is merely a walk between two ranges of rooms, this is indispensable; and even where there is but one range, such a room is required for the inmates to retire to when the gallery is washed or swept. It has a more domestic look than a long gallery, and that alone makes an agreeable impression. Besides the single bedrooms, provision should be made for lodging a portion of the patients in associated dormitories. 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 79 They have been but recently introduced in this counfry, and form a very important improvement in our modes of accom- modation. This has always been the method in general hos- pitals, but it was supposed to be improper for the insane, un- der the apprehension that they would disturb, if not injure, one another. This objection, however, is found in practice not to be well grounded. Disturbances may occasionally oc- cur, but when restless and irritable subjects are kept out, and the attendant is at hand, as he always should be, they must be exceedingly rare, and easily quieted. The apprehension of danger from sudden outbreaks or mischievous impulses is felt only by those who have had but little practical acquaintance with the insane, since accidents of this kind have seldom oc- curred. The advantages possessed by associated dormitories over single ones, in regard to some classes of patients, have been too clearly exhibited to those who have been conversant with their operation, to leave any room for doubt on the sub- ject. To the timid, who fear to be alone, they are far more agreeable than single rooms, and for the suicidal, as well as many others who require some supervision in the night, they are preferable, because the necessary watching can be more easily and effectually performed. Not only so, but it is ques- tionable whether the objections urged against these rooms are not actually outweighed by those which lie against single rooms. The proportion of inmates for which they are suit- able must vary, in some degree, with their social condition; and we can only say it should range from one fifth to one third of the whole number. They should be designed for not less than four nor more than twelve, and should always be contiguous to a water-closet and an attendants room. The attendants rooms, as usually located, present no facil- ity for observation, nor any other advantage. In the Butler Hospital they are placed at the right angle formed by the junc- tion of two galleries, and thus are equally accessible from both galleries, while the attendants are thus enabled the more read- ily to act in concert. The room too forming a thoroughfare between the two galleries, the attendants are themselves sub ject to an easy supervision, and this is no slight advantage. The common practice has been to provide every gallery 80 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, with a bathing-room; but for the most part such rooms should be placed in the cellar or basement. We thus save room for more important purposes, and avoid the dampness and ex- posure which render the bathing operation so disagreeable in the gallery. For similar reasons and with similar limitations, the dining-rooms, which are usually contiguous to the gallery, may be placed in some other part of the house. This is the arrangement at the Philadelphia Hospital, and though on some accounts approved, it is, we believe, open to objections that more than counterbalance all its advantages. But whichever plan may be adopted, each group of patients occupying a gallery should be kept distinct from the others, while at their meals, as well as at other times. The objects of a proper classification would be frustrated by intercourse there as effectually as any. where else. This result would seem to be quite obvious; but in the new hospital at Taunton, all the patients upon each story, some forty in number, and occupying three different galleries, are brought to their meals in a common room. If such an arrangement do not prove highly inconvenient, to say the least of it, then, certainly, we shall have a new fact in the art of managing hospitals for the insane. The disposal of the violent and noisy class has always been a subject of much diversity of opinion, because every practi- cable mode involves some unavoidable disadvantage. The course adopted to some extent in Europe, and generally here, is to place them in smaller buildings at a little distance from the main edifice. In this way, perhaps, their noise is not so audible to others, but there is reason to fear that this result is obtained by the sacrifice of more important considerations. Any arrangement which withdraws the patient from the easy and effectual supervision of the officers is inadmissible, except from the clearest necessity. No class requires such supervis- ion more than the one in question. Being the least capable of caring for themselves, they most demand the interposition of the attendant, who, moreover, is most likely to abuse his power, under the trials of temper incident to the care of such patients. Their condition is not only more variable, but the superior discernment of the physician is often needed, to perceive the changes in their sanitary state, which, as well as 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 81 their common wants, might otherwise sometimes escape ob- servation. That the kind of supervision which is indispensa- bly necessary to the welfare of these patients is prevented, in a great degree, where they are placed in separate buildings, none will deny who have been conversant with both arrange- ments. Can any one suppose that a part of the establishment which can be reached only by going into the open air, and encountering such weather as may happen to offer, will be as often and as closely inspected, as those which are under the same roof? Besides, the transference of patients from the principal building to these outhouses cannot always be ef- fected, without improper exposure of the person and irritation of the feelings. To enter a patients room in the night, hastily put on his clothes, and bear him off to another place of con- finement, is an act well adapted to excite his fears and to leave disagreeable impressions. By having the galleries de- signed for this class of patients component parts of the main building, we avoid all these unpleasant results, while it is not quite certain that we need to encounter that which is most strongly apprehended, the annoyance supposed to be inevi- tably caused by their proximity to others. Where these apart- ments are placed at the extremities of the building, the trans- mission of sound may be almost entirely prevented by inter- posing a range of closets and entries; or, what is still better, by having the walls entirely separate, but connected by some lattice contrivance. Apartments for violent patients need dif- fer but little, in appearance, from others, excepting one or two on the male side. It is of immense importance that the im- pressions made upon patients in the more active stage of the disease should be as little calculated as possible to excite the idea of imprisonment, or to connect their recolleCtions of this period with painful associations. In their calmer intervals, when capable of observing what is around them, they should not be reminded of a jail, nor even miss the little conveniences which they can appreciate. For the most part, their sleeping- rooms should be provided with ordinary windows properly guarded, and if the door is battened, and the walls plastered with mortar made of hydraulic lime, they will have all the necessary strength, without its being obtrusively apparent. 82 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR TilE INSANE. [July, In furnishing them, as well as the halls on which they open, everything should be avoided that would tend to produce dis- agreeable impressions. The fixtures and the finishing should be strong, no doubt, but it does not follow, as the common practice among us would indicate, that no other consideration need be cared for. Nothing could more effectually nourish the suspicions and alarms that torment the insane mind, than the apartments too often allotted to the patients in question. We have seen some grievous specimens of this kind, which we were disposed to attribute to the imperfect notions that would naturally attend the earlier stages of this enterprise; but it has been reserved for our own time and our own Com- monwealth to outdo them all, in every quality capable of sug- gesting ideas of wretchedness and degradation. In the new hospital at Taunton, the apartments for the violent classes consist of a block of cells no other term can give a better idea of their peculiar form and aspect entirely surround- ed by a narrow walk. To complete their resemblance to the cells of a jail, the walls are of brick neither plastered nor painted, the floors of stone, and the doors formed of round iron bars. They are lighted indirectly from the windows that open on the walk, and warmed, ostensibly, by hot air ad- mitted through the door from the walk. How hot this air must be made in order to warm the stone floors, on which the inmates frequently lie entirely divested of clothing, is a ques- tion which was probably never considered by the building- committee. We are also obliged to add, that in this part of the house, where, of all others, is required the amplest provis- ion for cleanliness, not a bathing-room nor a water-closet is to be found. True, these accommodations are not far off but they are placed in a different gallery and designed for thirty or forty other patients. In short, if it had been the actual inten- tion to make this portion of the establishment as nearly like a jail as possible, as strong and as repulsive, the attempt could not have been more successful. Nothing in the arrangements of a hospital for the insane is more closely connected with the comfort and health of the in- mates, than the method of warming and ventilation. Within a few years this has been a subject of much discussion and 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 83 experiment, and some diversity of opinion still prevails. Every- body understands that, in apartments occupied by a considera- ble number of persons, the air becomes vitiated by their respi- ration and perspiration, especially if they are sick; and every- body admits that this vitiated air must somehow be expelled, and replaced by pure air. How this change can be best effected is the question sought to be answered in the various methods of ventilation which have been introduced or pro- posed. Next to the primitive method, which leaves the matter to the doors and windows, the oldest and most prevalent in our hospitals is to make flues in the walls, leading from each apartment to the attic, through which the vitiated air is sup- posed to rise, and thence to escape by openings in the roof; while the fresh air is admitted from without into a chamber in the basement or cellar, and thence distributed, by flues in the walls, to the different apartments. In cold weather, the fresh air is first warmed by coming into contact with some heating apparatus. This contrivance is probably better than none, though very far from accomplishing the object. If the foul air would always rise, and the fresh air always follow it, this method would be tolerably satisfactory, though the cur- rent might not be rapid enough to maintain the purity of the air. But neither theory nor experiment shows that such is actually the fact. Whether the internal air ascends or not, must depend entirely on its temperature as compared with that of the external air. So long as the former is the warmest, as it often is, undoubtedly, it will rise and escape; but other- wise the current is just as likely to be in the opposite direction. But even under the most favorable circumstances, there are always, in apartments arranged like those of a hospital, local or temporary draughts, sufficient to prevent the regular and uniform discharge of the vitiated air. This fact is sufficiently evident to the senses, in all those parts of the house where the condition of the patients requires the most active ventilation. It may now be regarded as one of the established facts of sci- ence, that no method of ventilating a hospital is really entitled to the name, which does not depend on some artificial force. By the arrangement which has proved most efficient and economical, the foul-air flues lead to a central shaft heated by 84 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, fire or steam, the rarefaction of the air thus produced becoming a strong exhaustive power. Several hospitals and prisons in England are ventilated in this way, and the principle has just been admirably applied in a part of the McLean Asylum and in the hospital at Taunton, although in the latter the foul-air flues are quite too few and small for the work, and, what is still more objectionable, the foul air of the halls. must pass through the sleeping-rooms in order to escape. Instead of a special structure for this purpose, the chimney which serves for the kitchen, bakery, laundry, & c. may be constructed with a ventilating-flue so connected with the smoke-flue as to be warmed by its heat. Thus we obtain a sufficient power, day and night, summer and winter, without the slightest expense for maintenance. A method of warming the air in hospitals, almost univer- sal until recently, is to introduce it into a chamber in the basement, where it is heated by a furnace or stove of some kind, and thence distributed by flues to the different parts of the house. By this means, the air is often vitiated by coming in contact with red-hot iron, the smoke and ashes escape through leaks in the apparatus, and find their way into the apartments, the moving of fuel and ashes is a noisy and dirty process, and the numerous fires increase the danger of con- flagration. For these reasons, in several of our recently erected hospitals, steam or hot water, circulating through pipes laid in the air-chamber, is used for imparting heat to the fresh air, the boiler being placed in a separate structure. The use of steam and of hot water for warming buildings is so recent, that their relative merits are not yet satisfactorily settled. Steam requires more expensive fixtures, and the cost of its production is greater. It needs to be managed by a person somewhat skilled in the apparatus, whose unexpected absence would be followed by great inconvenience, a con- tingency not to be disregarded in a community not abounding in this class of men. The fixtures for hot water are much less expensive, ,and its management can be easily learned. The only point open to doubt is the efficiency of this plan, for it has not been so extensively tried as to render its success in cold climates unquestionable. In a part of the McLean Asy~ 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 85 mm it has been used for the last three years, with satisfactory results, and in the Maine Hospital at Augusta it has been found quite adequate to the purpose. These instances would seem to remove any reasonable doubt of the practical efficiency of hot water in any part of New England. In those states of the weather when a little, and but a little, warmth is required, and especially in our Southern States, in the coldest seasons, this method of warming seems to be peculiarly suitable, be- cause the amount of heat can be more easily regulated than by any other mode. The external appearance of the hospital may be supposed to have but little, if any, connection with its principal ob- jects, the comfort and restoration of the patients. As it regards the greater part of them, certainly, this may be true, but there are some on whom the aspect of the building leaves a strong impression. This class of persons is steadily increas- ing with the general progress of refinement, and especially with the growing conviction of the superior advantages pos- sessed by these institutions over every other method of man- aging the insane. It is a matter of duty, therefore, to prevent the unpleasing associations which a factory or prison-like aspect is adapted to excite, by giving to the buildings such forms, proportions, and arrangements as are calculated to gratify a correct taste. This has seldom been done among us, for most of our hospitals not only exhibit the mean and un- graceful appearance which characterizes our public buildings in general, but they have an additional ugliness peculiarly their own. It is one of our national fallacies to believe that the graceful and pleasing in architecture is necessarily expensive, under the impression that it depends entirely on costly decorations. Hence, with our proclivity to economy, it would seem as if we had determined to make our hospitals as unsightly as possible. With few exceptions, they weary the eye with their monotonous walk of brick or stone, three or four stories high, pierced with numerous apertures for letting in light, and unrelieved by hood-moulding or drip-stone, pilas- ter or arch, projection or recess. When, by chance, some out- lay is decided upon for a mere matter of taste, it is lavished, most probably, upon a row of trumpery pillars over the prin- voL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 8 86 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, cipal entrance, or a dismal cupola perched like an incubus on the roof. Our people have yet to learn that such decorations, even when faultless in themselves, impart no architectural beauty to an edifice otherwise devoid of it. The ugliest pile of brick and stone among our lunatic hospitals needed only its row of noble columns in front, that cost enough to have made it one of the finest buildings in the counfry, to force its ugliness irresistibly upon the spectator. It needs to be im- pressed upon this generation, that a pleasing architectural effect can be produced, not by a special ornament thrust in here and there, as if to monopolize the admiration of the beholder, but only by the harmonious arrangement of the different parts, by correctness of proportion, by the graceful forms of the essential members, and especially by a unity of spirit and purpose pervading the whole structure. The enormities that have been committed on our public buildings, in the shape of unmeaning ornament, have probably oftener been prompted by an uncultivated taste than by any regard for economy. Not many months since, the most erni- nent architect in our country was requested to furnish a design for the elevation of a lunatic hospital about to be erected not far from this city. The design was prepared, and, as might have been expected, was peculiarly appropriate and beautiful. Nobody supposed that it would prove expensive, but the build- ing-committee were more taken with that of the confractor, in which the ornamental work consisted of a series of pilasters projecting from the wall at intervals of some fifteen or twenty feet, and of a set of cupolas of assorted sizes; and accordingly this plan was forthwith embodied in wood and brick. Insanity is bad enough at best; but to oblige the unhappy sufferer, whose sense of the beautiful in nature or art may not be impaired, to behold, day after day, an exhibition of architectural ugliness, is to put a new element of bitterness into his bitter cup. In hospitals for the insane, the elevation must be necessarily subordinate to the ground plan; but the latter, if well adapted to its purpose, will admit of all the freedom the architect could wish. The style of building which will be found to meet the various ends of a hospital for the insane in the best manner, while it gratifies the most fastidious taste, is what is techni 1854.1 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 87 cally called the Elizabethan. It has, both from association and use, a strongly domestic character, and therefore is pecu- liarly appropriate to these establishments, in which it is desir- able to avoid whatever might suggest the idea of something special and public. Frequent interruptions in the line of the ground plan find no impediment in the elevation, the projec- tions of which, by throwing large masses of the building into shadow, give it an air of dignity and grace not to be found in any considerable extent of unbroken surface. Towers, which belong to this style of construction, would be a convenient receptacle for stair-cases, water-closets, bathing-rooms, & c., and the diversity of size and shape admissible in the doors and windows is admirably calculated to meet the diversity of uses for which they are required. The same kind of flexibility in regard to more important portions of the edifice, renders their enlargement easy when required, without affecting their mutual adaptation and dependence. The roofs too, which are apt to be unsightly objects, may be rendered quite pleas- ing by means of dormer windows and clustered chimneys. In England, the Surrey Asylum, near Wandsworth, and in our own country, the hospital just erected in Nashville, Tennessee, which in point of architectural merit may challenge compari- son with any similar American building, show what a pleas- ing effect may be produced by the tasteful introduction of the distinctive features of the Tudor style. The Lombard style, recently brought into notice by Mr. Hope, is also beautifully appropriate to buildings which, like lunatic hospitals, are com- posed of several extensive ranges. An example of this kind may be seen in the railway station at Providence, designed by a rising artist, who has the rare merit of seeking to please, rather by investing the essential parts of the structure with graceful forms and proportions, than by a profuse display of decoration having no reference to anything else. If any class of buildings in the world should be constructed with reference to security against fire, it certainly is hospitals for the insane, while, in fact, none are more deficient in this respect. The question is now beginning to be agitated, whether the public good does not require the exclusive employment of incombustible materials in the construction of stores and other 88 AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. [July, similar buildings in crow~led streets, and it is not improbable that, within a few years, wood will be but little used for this purpose. If the protection of property demands this kind of security against fire, much more should that of human life, under the extraordinary exposure to which it is subjected in a hospital for the insane. Iron, stone, or bricks could be sub- stituted for wood in all parts, unless, perhaps, we except the flooring, which, in our cold climates, would be hardly comfort- able if made of any other material than wood. Wooden floors, however, should always be laid upon bricks or tiles. Provision should be made for keeping a considerable quantity of water in the attics, for the exclusive purpose of arresting fires. It should be conducted to the cellar in metallic pipes connected with hydrants in every gallery, to which hose may be applied. By this means, the expense of which is trifling, every part of the building may be flooded, with scarcely a moments delay. It would, in all human probability, have prevented the deplor- able conflagration which destroyed the lunatic hospital of a neighboring State, and with it a score or more of helpless be- ings. Other provisions should not be neglected, but they will vary with the circumstances of the different establishments. Where a steam-engine is used, it should be able, by means of a suitable contrivance, to draw water and throw it wherever it might be needed. At the Butler Hospital, in addition to both of these provisions, a rotary pump placed in front of the build- ing and worked by horses, draws water from cisterns in the cellar, and, with sufficient length of hose, can throw it on any part of the roof. We are unwilling to leave the subject without a word upon the kind of supervision and direction usually provided for the building of lunatic hospitals. Here is the source of most of their deficiencies, and while it continues, it would be idle to expect a better class of institutions. The first step is the appointment of a building-committee, whose business it is to procure a plan, make the confracts, and superintend the work. Their most common qualification for the office is a little po- litical notoriety; their least common, a practical acquaintance with these institutions, and a familiarity with the details of construction. In fact, most of them, had they been appointed 1854.] AMERICAN HOSPITALS FOR THE INSANE. 89 to build a clipper-ship or to codify the laws of the State would have been as well fitted for the service by their pre. vious habits or pursuits. As a sort of preparatory exercise, they visit similar institutions within a few hours ride, look at the arrangements, question the superintendents on one point and another, and perhaps take notes of what they see and hear. Apparently, this is a very proper way of attaining their object; but actually it is often useless, and sometimes worse. Not knowing exactly what to observe, or, rather, observing everything with equal attention, having no clew to the points most entitled to inquiry, incapable of distinguishing the essen- tial from the accidental, or a defect from a merit, the result is only an accumulation of irrelevant and undigested facts. Puz- zled and perplexed with conflicting views, unable to analyze the evidence before them, and to fix its relative value, completely bewildered in a maze of new and peculiar facts, they become ready at last to catch at any suggestion that promises, in any way, to exfricate them from their embarrassment; and the conclusion of the whole matter is a patched-up plan for which nobody is willing to be responsible. The physician appointed to take charge of the institution, finding arrangements totally unsuitable for certain purposes, in addition to general unfit- ness and deficiency, calls upon the Directors, or Trustees, to whom the committee have given up the building, for altera- tions absolutely necessary, in his opinion, to render the inmates safe and comfortable. Of course, something is done, but an ungrateful work like this is never thoroughly effected, and thus every year brings with it a host of fresh wants which should have been provided for in the beginning, and many of which can never afterwards be properly met. Water-closets and wash-basins that would be torn up within a week can be easily replaced by more substantial fixtures; but many a blun- der embodied in brick or stone will always remain, defying every attempt at change. All this arises from a fundamental mistake of the building-committee, in supposing that the proper discharge of their duty requires that they should make themselves acquainted with points of a strictly professional nature. These personal investigations, as they are usually and almost necessarily pursued, may afford some gratification, 8* 90 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, but can never accomplish the object sought for. It is a very significant fact, that some of the most imperfect lunatic hos- pitals in our country were preceded by the most diligent and extensive personal investigations on the part of the building- committee. True, no other method would be likely to be fol- lowed by entire success, but flagrant and intolerable errors might be avoided. Let building-committees advertise for plans, submit them, when offered, to the examination of men practically conversant with these institutions, and obtain their views respecting the plans, and their reasons for or against each of them; and then they are in a position to de- cide satisfactorily upon conflicting opinions. Their decision may be erroneous in many respects, but it will have the merit of being intelligent and well matured. This is the course adopted with regard to other edifices, and we see no reason to believe that it is not equally applicable to hospitals for the insane. ART. V. 1. The Works of JOSEPH ADDIsoN. Edited, with Critical and Explanatory Notes, by GEORGE WASHINGTON GREENE. New York: G. P. Putnam & Co. 1854. 5 vols. 2. The Spectator; a New Edition, carefully revised, with Prefaces Historical and Biographical, by ALEXANDER CHALMERS, A. M. New York: ID. Appleton & Co. 1853. 6 vols. THERE 1S not a name in the annals of English literature more widely associated with pleasant recollections than that of Addison. His beautiful hymns trembled on our lips in child- hood; his cheerful essays first lured us, in youth, to a sense of the minor philosophy of life; we tread his walk at Oxford with loving steps, gaze on his portrait, at Holland House or the Bodleian Gallery, as on the lineaments of a revered friend, recall his journey into Italy, his ineffectual maiden speech, his successful tragedy, his morning studies, his even- ings at Buttons, his unfortunate marriage, and his holy death-

90 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, but can never accomplish the object sought for. It is a very significant fact, that some of the most imperfect lunatic hos- pitals in our country were preceded by the most diligent and extensive personal investigations on the part of the building- committee. True, no other method would be likely to be fol- lowed by entire success, but flagrant and intolerable errors might be avoided. Let building-committees advertise for plans, submit them, when offered, to the examination of men practically conversant with these institutions, and obtain their views respecting the plans, and their reasons for or against each of them; and then they are in a position to de- cide satisfactorily upon conflicting opinions. Their decision may be erroneous in many respects, but it will have the merit of being intelligent and well matured. This is the course adopted with regard to other edifices, and we see no reason to believe that it is not equally applicable to hospitals for the insane. ART. V. 1. The Works of JOSEPH ADDIsoN. Edited, with Critical and Explanatory Notes, by GEORGE WASHINGTON GREENE. New York: G. P. Putnam & Co. 1854. 5 vols. 2. The Spectator; a New Edition, carefully revised, with Prefaces Historical and Biographical, by ALEXANDER CHALMERS, A. M. New York: ID. Appleton & Co. 1853. 6 vols. THERE 1S not a name in the annals of English literature more widely associated with pleasant recollections than that of Addison. His beautiful hymns trembled on our lips in child- hood; his cheerful essays first lured us, in youth, to a sense of the minor philosophy of life; we tread his walk at Oxford with loving steps, gaze on his portrait, at Holland House or the Bodleian Gallery, as on the lineaments of a revered friend, recall his journey into Italy, his ineffectual maiden speech, his successful tragedy, his morning studies, his even- ings at Buttons, his unfortunate marriage, and his holy death- 1854.} JOSEPH ADDISON. 91 bed, as if they were the experiences of one personally known, as well as fondly admired; and we muse beside the marble that designates his sepulchre in Westminster Abbey, between those of his first patron and his most cherished friend, with an interest such as is rarely awakened by the memory of one fa- miliar to us only through books. The harmony of his charac- ter sanctions his writings; the tone of the Spectator breathes friendliness as well as instruction; and the tributes of contem- poraries to his private worth, and of generations to his literary excellence, combine with our knowledge of the vicissitudes of his life, to render his mind and person as near to our sym- pathies as they are high in our esteem. Over his faults we throw the veil of charity, and cherish the remembrance of his benevolence and piety, his refinement and wisdom, as the sa- cred legacy of an intellectual benefactor. This posthumous regard is confirmed by the appreciation of his coevals. Not only did Addison find a faithful patron in Halifax and a cordial recognition from the public; but these testimonies to the merit of the author were exceeded by the love and deference bestowed on the man. Sir Richard Steele, with all his frank generosity, was jealous of Tickells place in the heart of their common friend, to whom Tickells elegiac tribute has been justly pronounced one of the most feeling and graceful memorials of departed excellence in English verse. When Budgell, a contributor to the Spectator, became a suicide, he endeavored to justify the rash act by the exam- ple and reasoning of Addisons Cato. When Pope turned his satirical muse upon the gentle essayist, he polished the terms and modified the censure, as if involuntary respect chastened the spirit of ridicule. Dryden welcomed him to the ranks of literature, and Boileau greeted him with praise on his first visit to France. Throughout his life, the dis- tinction he gained by mental aptitude and culture was con- firmed by integrity and geniality of character. Even party rancor yielded to the moral dignity and kindliness of Addi- son; and his opponents, when in power, respected his inter- cession, and would not suffer difference of opinion to chill their affection. Lady Montagu thought his company delight- ful. Lord Chesterfield declared him the most modest man he 92 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, had ever seen. When he called Gay to his bedside and asked forgiveness, with his dying breath, for some unrecognized negligence with regard to that authors interest, the latter pro. tested, with tearful admiration, that he had nothing to par. don and everything to regret. Swifts jealousy of Addison is an emphatic proof of his merit ; the literary gladiator, unsat- isfied with his triumphs, obviously turned a jaundiced eye upon the literary artist, whose object was social reform and intellectual diversion, instead of party warfare and intolerant satire. I will not, said the cynical Dean, meddle with the Spectator, let him fair sex it to the worlds end. The allusion to the improvement of women, to which this new form of literature so effectually ministered, is unfortunate, as coming from a man who, at the very time, was ruthlessly tri. fling with the deepest instincts of the female heart. Woman is, indeed, indebted to Addison and his fraternity, for giving a new impulse to her better education, and a more generous scope to her intellectual tastes. So much was this aim and result of the Spectator recognized, that Goldoni, in one of his comedies, alludes to a female philosopher as made such by the habitual perusal of it. Johnsons observations on Addi- son are reverent, as well as critical; he pays homage to his character, and advises all who desire to acquire a pure Eng. lish style, to make a study of his writings. Nor have such tributes ceased with the fluctuations of taste and the progress of time. Of all the eloquent illustrations of English literary character which Macaulays brilliant rhetoric has yielded, not one glows with a warmer appreciation, or more discriminating, yet lofty praise, than the beautiful Essay on Addisons Life and Writings, prefixed to the edition before us, which is the most complete and best annotated that has yet appeared. All the early editions were based upon Tickells, which was the first published by authority. Subsequent issues differed only in some additional material, as, in one case, the play of The Drummer, and, in another, the Comparison of An- cient and Modern Learning, until Bishop Hurds edition made its appearance. He was too exclusively a polemic and verbal critic to be a desirable editor of Addison. Many of his notes are like the corrections which a schoolmaster makes 1854.] JOSEPH ADDISON. % 93 in a boys theme. As this edition, however, has been a stand. ard one, the American publisher has perhaps wisely made it the basis of the present; and his choice of an editor is amply justified by the admirable notes appended to the text. The American editors extensive classical and historical knowledge has enabled him to supply omissions, to explain incongruities, and to illustrate, by reference to the times of Addison, the significance and point of many of his allusions. In these handsome volumes, we have, in addition to the more familiar writings of the author, The Old Whig, never before in- cluded in his works; and to make this more intelligible, Steeles Plebeian, to which it is a reply, is added. Both of these series of papers are very rare. Johnson had never seen them. All the letters of Addison that could be discovered have also been collected; and thus we have, for the first time, in a single work, the entire published writings of this favorite British classic. The volumes are neatly printed, but, not be. ing of uniform size, are somewhat inconvenient, and the en- graved portrait is unworthy of the work; though in all other respects the edition reflects the highest credit on the judg- ment of the publisher and the literary skill of the editor. The new edition of the Spectator, named at the head of this article, is one of the best specimens of typography that has lately appeared; and the work supplies a desideratum, there having been previously no handsome edition of this standard periodical in the book-market. We are gratified to record these instances of good taste and conservative enter- prise; and the ready sale which both works have found is a hopeful sign of the times, and evinces a general integrity of appreciation in relation to what is truly excellent in English literature, which should rebuke the less graceful and more piquant school of writers at present so much in vogue. The tranquil and religious atmosphere of an English par- sonage chastened the early days of Addison; and although a few traditions indicate that he was given to youthful pranks, it is evident that the tenor of his character was remarkably thoughtful and reserved. During his ten years residence at Oxford, he was a devoted and versatile student, and it is to the discipline of classical acquirements that we owe the fastid JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, ious correctness of his style. The mastery he obtained over the Latin tongue revealed to him the nice relations between thought and language; and he wrote English with the sim- plicity, directness, and grace which still render the Spectator a model of prose composition. Seldom has merely correct and tasteful verse, however, been so lucrative as it proved to him. His Latin poems first secured his election to Magda- len College; his translations of a part of the Georgics, and their inscription to ])ryden, drew from that veteran author the warmest recognition; his poem to King William obtained for him the patronage of Lord Somers, Keeper of the Great Seal, to whom it was addressed; his poetical epistle to Montagu from Italy was but the graceful acknowledgment of the Chancellors agency in procuring him a pension of three hun- dred pounds; his poem of The Campaign, written at the request of Lord Godoiphin, to celebrate the victory of Hoch- stadt, gained him the office of Commissioner of Appeals; and thenceforth we find him appointed to successive and profit- able offices, from that of Keeper of the Records in Birming- hams Tower, to that of Secretary of State, from which he retired with a pension of fifteen hundred pounds. Besides official visits to Hanover and Ireland, soon after his literary qualifications had won him the patronage of Halifax, he made a tour abroad, remained several months at Blois to perfect himself in French, mingled with the best circles of Paris, Rome, and Geneva, and surveyed the historical scenes of the Italian peninsula with the eyes of a scholar. These opportunities to study mankind and to observe nature were not lost upon Addison. He was ever on the alert for an original specimen of humanity, and interested by natural phenomena, as well as cognizant of local associations derived from a thorough knowl- edge of Roman authors. We can imagine no culture more favorable to the literary enterprise in which he subsequently engaged, than this solid basis of classical learning, followed by fravel on the Continent, where entirely new phases of scenery, opinions, and society were freely revealed to his in- telligent curiosity, and succeeded by an official career that brought him into responsible contact with the realities of life. Thus enriched by his lessons of experience and disciplined by 1854.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 95 accurate study, when Addison first sent over from freland a contribution to his friend Steeles Tatler, he unconsciously opened a vein destined to yield intellectual refreshment to all who read his vernacular language, and to ally his name to the most agreeable and useful experiment in modern literature. Never did the art of writing prove a greater personal bless- ing than to Addison. His knowledge, wit, and taste were not~ at his oral command, except in the society of intimate friends; the presence of strangers destroyed his self-possession, and as a public speaker he failed through constitutional diffi- dence. Yet no one excelled him in genial and suggestive conversation. The fluency and richness of his colloquial powers were alike remarkable; but the world knew him only as a respectable poet and scholar and a faithful civic officer, until the Spectator inaugurated that peculiar kind of literature which seemed expressly made to give scope to such a nature as his. There he tal)~d on paper in association with an im- aginary club, and u~n?f~rlan anonymous signature. No curious eyes made his tongue falter; no pert sarcasm brought a flush to his cheek. In the calm exercise of his benign fancy and wise criticism, he made his daily comments upon the fashion, literature, and characters of the day, with all the playful free- dom of coffee-house discussion, united to the thoughtful style of private meditation. Thus his sensitive mind had full ex- pression, while his native modesty was spared; and the Spec- tator was his confessional, where he uttered his thoughts can- didly in the ear of the public, without being awed by its obvious presence. Taste, and not enthusiasm, inspired Addi- son; hence his slender claim to the title of a poet. His rhymes, even when faultless and the vehicles of noble thoughts, rarely glow with sentiment; they are usually studied, grace- ful, correct, but devoid of poetic significance; and yet, owing to the dearth of poetry in his day and the partialities incident to friendship and to faction, Addison enjoyed an extensive reputation as a poet. There are beautiful turns of expression in his Letter from Italy, usually considered the best of his occasional poems; the famous simile of the angel and some animated rhetoric redeem The Campaign from entire mediocrity; and scholars will find numerous instances of felici 96 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, tous rendering into English verse, in his translations. Yet these incidental merits do not give Addison any rank in the highest department of literature to readers familiar with Burns and Byron, Coleridge and Wordsworth. He was an eloquent rhymer, but no legitimate votary of the Muse. It is the dy- ing soliloquy of Cato alone that now survives; and yet few English tragedies, of modern date, were introduced with such eclat or attended by more tributary offerings. Pope, Steele, and Dr. Young sounded its praises in verse; the Whig party espoused it as a classic embodiment of liberal principles; and its production has been called the grand cimacteric of Addisons reputation. On the night of its first representation, we are told that the author wandered behind the scenes with restless and unappeasable solicitude. So far as imme- diate success may be deemed a test of ability, he had reason to be satisfied with the result. The play was acted at London and Oxford, for many nights, with great applause. Cato, writes Pope, was not so much the wonder of Rome in his days, as he is of Britain in ours. What revolutions in pub- lic taste have since occurred; and how difficult is it to recon- cile the admiration this drama excited with the subsequent appreciation of Shakespeare! Even as a classic play, how inferior in beauty of diction, grandeur of ~entiment, and rich- ness of metaphor, to the Grecian theme which the lamented Talfourd vitalized with Christian sentiment and arrayed in all the charms of poetic art! Neither the fifty guineas that Bo- lingbroke presented to the actor who personated Cato, nor the Prologue of Pope, could buoy up this lifeless, though scholarly performance, on the tide of fame. The whole career of Addi- son as a writer of verse yields new evidence of the inefficacy of erudition, taste, and even a sense of the beautiful, and good literary judgment, where poetry is the object. There must be a divine instinct, a fervor of soul, an idea dearer than self ~ or the mechanism of verse is alone produced. Addison was not a man of ardent feelings. The emotional in his nature was checked and chilled by prudence, by disci- pline, and by reflection. We can discover but one native sentiment that glowed in his heart to a degree which justi- fied its poetical expression, and that is devotion. Compare 1854.J JOSEPH ADDISON. 97 his hymns evidently the overflowing of gratitude, trust, and veneration with his frigid drama and his political verses. There is a genuine and a memorable earnestness in these re- ligious odes. They were the offspring of his experience, prompted by actual states of mind, and accordingly they still find a place in our worship and linger in our memories. The earliest compositions that I recollect taking any pleas- ure in, says Burns in a letter to Dr. More, were The Vis- ion of Mirza, and a rhyme of Addisons, beginning How are thy servants blest, 0 Lord! I particularly remember one half- stanza, which was music to my boyish ear: For though in dreadful whirls we hung High on the broken wave. The hymn referred to was suggested by the writers providen- tial escape during a fearful storm encountered on the coast of Italy. An able critic remarks, that the love scenes are the worst in Cato; and there is no rhymer of the tjme who exhibits so little interest in the tender passion. In The Drummer and Rosamond there are indications of a playful invention and fanciful zest, which, like the most characteristic passages of the Spectator, evince that Addisons best vein was the humorous and the colloquial. In this his individuality ap- pears, and the man shines through the scholar and courtier. We forget such prosaic lines as But I ye already troubled you too long, with which he closes his Letter from Italy, and think of him in the more vivid phase of a kindly censor and delightful com- panion. The Dialogues on Medals is the most characteristic of Addisons works prior to the Spectator. The subject, by its classical associations, elicited his scholarship and gratified his taste. Regarding medallic history as a kind of printing before the art was invented, he points out the emblematic and suggestive meaning of coins with tact and discrimina- tion, and illustrates the details of numerous medals by refer- ence to the Latin poets. In the style we recognize those agreeable turns of thought and graces of language which soon vOL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 9 98 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, afterward made the author so famous in periodical literature. His contemplative mind found adequate hints in these authen- tic memorials of the past, and it was evidently a charming occupation to infer from the garlands, games, costume, ships, columns, and physiognomies, thus preserved on metal, the history of the wars and individuals commemorated. His nu- merous translations, political essays, and letters are now chiefly interesting as illustrative of the transitions of public opinion, and the studies and social relations of the author. In his Remarks on Italy there are curious facts, which the traveller of our day may like to compare with those of his own expe- rience. The tone of the work is pleasant; but its specialit~ is classical allusion, and to modern taste it savors of pedantry. The comparative absence of earnest poetical feeling is mani- fest through out. The reader who has wandered over the Ital- ian peninsula with Childe Harold or Corinne, finds Ad- dison rather an unattractive cicerone. It is remarkable that he was so rarely inspired, during the memorable journey, by those associations which the master-spirits of Italian and English literature have thrown around that classic land. At Venice he is not haunted by the gentle lady wedded to the Moor, nor does the noble Portia rise to view; he passes through Ferrara without a thought of Tasso or Ariosto; and at Ravenna, does not even allude to the tomb of Dante. He seems to have looked upon Fiesole oblivious of Milton, and passed through Verona heedless of Juliets tomb. The saints and Latin authors won his entire regard. He copied a ser- mon of St. Anthony, at Bologna, and a letter of Henry VIII. to Anne Boleyn, in the Vatican. His observations on local char- acteristics, however, are intelligent; he was the first English writer to describe San Marino; and, to appreciate this work, we should remember that it was published before the age of guide-books and steam, and in accordance with the taste for classical learning and the need of information then prevalent. To the majority of readers, at this day, the Spectator is doubtless a tame book. They miss in its pages the rapid succession of incidents, the melodramatic display, and the rhetorical vivacity which distinguish modern fiction and criti- cism. Life is more crowded with events and the world of 1854.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 99 opinion more diversified, society is more complex, and knowl- edge more widely diffused, than at that day, and therefore a greater intensity marks the experience of the individual and the products of literature. But it is in this very direction that pop- ular taste is at fault; the over-action, the moral fever and rest- lessness of the times, have infected writers as well as readers. Both are dissatisfied with the natural and the genuine, and have recourse to artificial stimulants and conventional expe- dients; and these are as certain to react unfavorably in hab- its of thonght and in authorship, as in scientific and practical affairs. It is to this tendency to conform the art of writing to the standard of a locomotive and experimental age that we ascribe the tricks of pencraft so much in vogue. Constable, the painter, used to complain of the bravura style of landscape, the attempt to do something beyond truth, and he defined the end of art to be the union of imagi- nation with nature. This is equally true of literature. It is now faint praise to apply such epithets as quiet, thought- ful, and discriminatina to a book; but is it not the very nature of written thought and sentiment to address the con- templative and emotional nature through the calm attention of the reader? Can we appreciate the merits, even of a picture, without a long and patient scrutiny; or enter into the signifi- cance of an author, without abstracting the mind from bustle, excitement, and care? A receptive mood is as needful as an eloquent style. Paradise Lost was never intended to be read in a rail-car, nor the Life of Washington to be written in the form of a melodrama. An author or reader whose taste was formed on the Addi- sonian or even the Johusonian model, would be puzzled at the modifications our vernacular has undergone; the intro- version of phrases, the coining of words, the mystical expres- sions, the aphoristic and picturesque style adopted by recent and favorite writers would sfrike the novice, as they do every reader of unperverted taste, as intolerable affectations or mere verbal inventions to conceal poverty of ideas. The more original a mans thought is, the more direct is its utterance. Genuine feeling seeks the most simple expression. Just in proportion as what is said comes from the individuals own 100 JOSEPh ADDISON. [July, mind and heart, is his manner of saying it natural. Accord.. ingly, the verbal ingenuity of many popular writers of the day is a presumptive evidence of their want of originality. Truth scorns disguise, and an author, as well as any other man, who is in earnest, relies upon his thought, and nQt its attire. The priceless merit of Addison is his fidelity to this law of sim- plicity and directness of language; and those who cannot revert to his pages with satisfaction may justly suspect the decadence of their literary taste. The true lover of nature, when released awhile from the crowd and turmoil of metro- politan life, rejoices, as he stands before a rural scene, to find his sense of natural beauty and his relish of calm retirement unimpaired by the pleasures and the business of the town. His mind expands, his heart is soothed, and his whole self- consciousness elevated, by the familiar and endeared, though long-neglected landscape. Thus is it with books. If we have remained true to the fountains of English undefiled amid the glaring and spasmodic allurements of later authors, the tranquil tone, the clear diction, and the harmonized ex- pression of Addison will affect us like the permanent efful- gence of a star when the flashing curve of a rocket has gone out in darkness. There are in the style of xvriting, as well as in the economy of life, conservative principles; and the return to these, after repeated experiments, is the best evidence of their value. Already a whole group of writers of English prose, whose books had an extraordinary sale and a fashion- able repute, are quite neglected. When libraries are found- ed or standard books desired, the intelligent purveyor ignores these specimens of galvanized literature, and chooses only writ- ings that have a vital basis of fact or language. This quality is the absolute condition of the permanent popularity of books in our vernacular tongue. There is a certain honesty in its very structure, which recoils from artifice as the presage of decay. The manliness, the truth, and the courage of the An- glo-Saxon race exact these traits in their literature. Coarse- ness, such as deforms Dc Foes graphic stories, elaborate phra- ses, like those that give an elephantine movement to Dr. John- sons style, fanciful conceits, such as occasionally dwarf the eloquence of Jeremy Taylor, are all defects that are referable 1834.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 101 to the age or the temperament of the respective authors, and do not, in the least, affect the reality of their fame, which rests on a sincere, original, and brave use of their mother tongue; but when inferior minds attempt to perpetuate commonplace sentiments or borrowed thoughts in a harlequin guise made up of shreds and patches of the English language, joined to- gether by a foreign idiom or a mosaic of new and unauthor- ized words, the experiment is repudiated, sooner or later, by the veto of instinctive good taste. Addison commenced writing when literature was mainly sustained by official patronage, in the age of witty coteries, of elegant dedications. Chiefly in political and scholarly cir- cles were the votaries of letters to be found. The Spectator widened the range of literature, rendering it a domestic enjoy- ment and a social agency; it organized a lay priesthood, and gradually infused the elements of philosophy and taste into conversation. Although the Observator of LEsfrange, the Rehearsals of Leslie, and De Foes Review, preceded the Tat- ler, those pioneer essays at periodical writing were mainly devoted to questions of the hour, and to the wants of the masses; they did not, like the work which Addisons pen made classic, deal with the minor morals, the refinements of criticism, and the niceties of human character. No literary en- terprise before achieved exerted so direct an influence upon society, or induced the same degree of individual culture. Its singular adaptation to the English mind is evinced not more by its immediate influence, than by the permanent form of in- struction and entertainment it initiated. It was the prolific source of the invaluable array of publications, which reached their acme of excellence in the best days of the Edinburgh Review and Blackwoods Magazine, and which contin- ue now, in the shape of Household Words, and of the choicest monthly and quarterly journals, to represent every school of opinion and class of society, and to illustrate and modify the ways of thinking and the style of expression of two great nations. No works have ever gone so near the sympathies of unprofessional readers, or reflected more truly the life and thought of successive eras; none have enlisted 9* 102 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, such a variety of talent, or more genially tempered and en- lightened the common mind. When the Spectator flourished, the stern inelegance of the Puritan era and the profligate tone which succeeded it, yet lingered around the written thought of England; while the French school represented by Congreve, the coarseness and spite of Swift, and the unsparing satire of Pope, frequently made literary talent the minister of unhallowed passions and depraved taste. To all this the pure and benign example of Addison was a delightful contrast: his censorship was tem- pered with good feeling, his expression untainted with vulgar- ity; he was familiar,withoutlosing refinement of tone; he used language as a crystal medium to enshrine sense, and not as a grotesque costume to hide the want of it; he was above the conceits of false wit, and too much of a Christian to pro- fane his gifts; in a word, he xvrote like a gentleman and a scholar, and yet without the fine airs of the one or the ped- antry of the other. He first exposed the lesser incongruities of human conduct, xvhich no law or theology had assailed; he discussed neglected subjects of value and interest; and gave new zest to the common resources of daily life by placing them in an objective light. Then, too, by giving a colloquial tone to writing, he brought it within the range of universal sympathy, and made it a source of previously unimagined pleasure and instruction. Addisons relation to Steele was one of mutual advantage; for, although the improvidence of poor Dick gave his virtu- ous friend constant anxiety, on the other hand, Sir Richards easy temper and frank companionship lowered his classic Mentor from stilts, and promoted his access to their common readers. It is obvious that the social tone of the Spectator is as much owing to Steele as its grace and humor are to Addi- son. Indeed, their friendship, like those of Gray and Walpole, Johnson and Goldsmith, and, as a more recent instance, Wilkie and Haydon, was founded on diversity of character. Steeles vivacious temperament and knowledge of the world supplied the author of Cato with the glow and aptitude he needed, while the latters high principle and rigid taste felici- tously modified his companions recklessness. If the one was a 1854.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 103 fine scholar, the other was a most agreeable gentleman; if the one was correct, the other was genial; if the one had reliable taste, the other had noble impulses ; so that between them there was a beautiful representative humanity. Macaulay attributes the execution which Addison levied on Steeles house to resentment at his ungrateful extravagance; but the editor of the edition now before us justly modifies, in a note, the extreme language of the text. We think, with him, that Addisons severity, in this instance, was more apparent than real; for he declared that his object was to awaken him [Steele] from a lethargy which must end in his inevitable ruin. That no alienation occurred is evident from the pref- ace that Steele wrote for his edition of The Drummer, which is eloquent with love and admiration for his departed friend. In that delectable creation of Addison, Sir Roger de Coy- erley, we recognize, as it were, the first outline or cartoon of those studies of character which have since given their peculiar charm to English fictions and essays. In no other literature is discoverable the combination of humor and good sense, of rare virtue and harmless eccentricities, which stamp the best of these productions with an enduring interest. Before the advent of Sir Roger, delicate shades of characterization had not been attempted, satire was comparatively gross, and the excitement of adventure was the chief charm of narrative. But Addison drew, with a benignant yet keen touch, the foi- bles and the goodness of heart of his ideal country gentleman, and thus gave the precedent whereby the art of the moralist was refined and elevated. Compared, indeed, with subsequent heroes of romance, Sir Roger is a shadowy creature; but none the less lovable for the simple r6le assigned him, and the negative part he enacts. He is the legitimate precursor of Squire Western, Parson Adams, the Man of Feeling, and Pickwick. In the portrait gallery of popular English authors, we gratefully hail Addison as the literary ancestor of Fielding, Sterne, Mackenzie, Lamb, Irving, and Dickens. The diversity of their style and the originality of their characters do not invalidate the succession, any more than Leonardos clear out- lines and Raphaels inimitable expression repudiate the claims, as their artistic progenitors, of Giotto and Perugino. It is a curi 104 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, ous experiment, however, to turn from the brilliant characters which now people the domain of the novelist, and revert to this primitive figure, as fresh and true as when first revealed at the breakfast-tables of London in the reign of Queen Anne. Addison thus rescued the lineaments of the original English counfry gentleman, and kept them bright and genuine for the delight of posterity, ere their individuality was lost in the uni- form traits of a locomotive age. It is surprising that features so delicately pictured, incidents so undramatic, and sentiments so free from extravagance, should thus survive intact. It is the nicety of the execution and the harmony of the character that preserve it. Walpole compares Sir Roger to Falstaff, doubtless with reference to the rare humor which stamps and immortalizes both, however diverse in other respects. We seem to know Sir Roger as a personal acquaintance and an habitue of some manorial dwelling familiar to our school days; there is not a whim of his we can afford to lose, or a virtue we would ever cease to honor and love. His choice of a chaplain who would not insult him with Latin and Greek at his own table, and whose excellence as a preacher he se- cured by a present of all the good sermons that had been printed, his habit of prolonging the psalm-tune a minute after the congregation were hushed, of always engaging on the Thames a bargeman with a wooden leg, of talking pleas- antly all the way up stairs to the servant who ushered him into a drawing-room, of clearing his pipes in good air by a morning promenade in Grays Inn Walks, of inquiring as to the strength of the axletree before trusting himself in a hackney- coach, of standing up, before the play, to survey complacently the throng of happy faces, these and many other peculiari- ties are to our consciousness like the endeared oddities of a friend, part of his identity, and associated with his memory. Gracefully into the web of Sir Rogers quaint manners did Addison weave a golden thread of sentiment. His relations to his household and tenants, his universal salutations in town, and his thinking of the widow in lapses of conversation, are natural touches in this delightful picture. We see him alight and take the spent hare in his arms at the close of a hunt, shake the cicerone at the Abbey by the hand at part- 1854.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 105 ing, and invite him to his lodgings to talk over these mat- ters more at leisure, chide an importunate beggar, and then give him a sixpence, order the coachman to stop at a tobac- conists and freat himself to a roll of the best Virginia, look reverently at Dr. Busbys statue because the famous peda- gogue had whipped his grandfather. These anecdotes give reality to the conception. It would not be thoroughly Eng- lisli, however, without a dash of philosophy; and we are almost reconciled to Sir Rogers ill-success in love with one of those unaccountable creatures that secretly rejoice in the admiration of men, but indulge themselves in no farther conse- quences, by its influence on his character. This affliction in my life, says Sir Roger, has streaked all my conduct with a softness of which I should otherwise have been incapable. We envy the Spectator the privilege of taking this fine old English gentleman to the play, and enjoying his natural criticism; we honor Addison for his veto upon Steeles at- tempt to debauch this nobleman of nature, and deem it worthy of a poet to resolve upon his heros final exit, rather than sub- mit to so base an alternative; and we feel that it would have been quite impossible to listen, at the club, unmoved by the butlers epistle describing his tranquil departure, from the mo- ment he ceased to be able to touch a sirloin, until the slab of the Coverley vault closed over his remains. The zest of this favorite creation of Addison is increased by the remembrance we have of a tendency to more spirited life in youth, when Sir Roger went all the way to Grand Cairo to take the measure of a pyramid, fought a duel, and kicked Bully Dawson. This lively episode brings into strong relief the long years of quiet respectability, when his chief pastime was a game of backgammon with the chaplain, and his architectural enthusiasm was confined to admiration of London Bridge, and a bequest to build a steeple for the vil- lage church. His habits are so well known to us, that, if we were to meet him in Soho Square, where he always lodged when in town, we should expect an invitation to take a glass of Mrs. Truebys water; and if the encounter occurred under those trees which shaded his favorite walk at Coverley Hall, we should not feel even a momentary surprise to hear him 106 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, instantly begin to talk of the widow. If Steele gave the first hint, and Tickell and Budgell contributed part of the outline, the soul of this character is alone due to Addison; his delicate and fine hand gave it color and expression, and therefore unity of effect; and it proved the model lay figure of subse- quent didactic writers, upon which hang gracefully the man- tles of charity and the robes of practical wisdom. Sir Roger in the counfry, at the club, the theatre, or at church, in love, and on the bench, was the herald of that swarm of heroes whose situations are made to illustrate the varied circles of society and aspects of life in modern fiction. It was in the form and relations of literature, however, that Addison chiefly wrought great improvement; and there is reason for the comparative want of interest which his writings excite at the present day, when we pass from the amenities of style to the claims of humanity and of truth. A more pro- found element lurked in popular writing than the chaste essay- ist of Queen Annes day imagined; and since the climax of social and political life realized by the French revolution, questions of greater moment than the speculations of a con- vivial club, a significance in human existence deeper than the amiable whims of a country gentleman, and phases of society infinitely higher than those involved in criticism on points of manners and taste, have become subjects of popular thought and discussion. Accordingly, there is more earnestness and a greater scope in periodical literature. Minds of a lofty order, sympathies of a deep and philosophic nature, have been en- listed in this sphere. Carlyle, Stephens, Foster, and IDe Quin- cey have given it a new character. The copious knowledge and eloquent diction of Macaulay, the rich common-sense and ready wit of Sydney Smith, the brilliant analysis of Jeffrey, the subtile critiques of Hazlitt and Lamb, the exuberant zest of Wilson and a host of other writers, have rendered the cas- ual topics and every-day characters of which the Spectator often treats, unimpressive in the comparison. It is therefore mainly as a reformer of style, and as the benevolent and inge- nious pioneer of a new and most influential class of writers, that we now honor Addison. It was at first his intention to enter the clerical profession; 1854.] JOSEPH ADDISON. 107 but all of aptitude for that office he possessed found scope and emphasis in his literary career. He ministered effectually at the altar of humanity, not indeed to its deepest wants, but most seasonably, and with rare success. The license and bru- tality of temper were checked by his kindly censure and pure example; the latent beauties of works of genius were made evident to the general perception; manners were refined, taste promoted, the religious sentiment twined into the daily web of popular literature; while spleen, artifice, vulgarity, and self- love were rebuked by a corps of lay preachers, whose lectures were more influential, because conveyed under the guise of col- loquial and friendly hints rather than sermons. Addison gave to literature a respectability which it seldom possessed before. He became the ideal of an author. His studies, observation, and benevolence were turned into a fountain of usefulness and entertainment open to the multitude. He helped to dig the channel which connects the stream of private knowledge with the popular mind, across the isthmus of an aristocracy of birth, of education, and of society; thus creating the grand dis- tinction between the Anglo-Saxon and the Southern European nations, as to intelligence, activity, and the capacity of self- government. It is in this historical point of view, and as re- lated to the improvement of society and the amelioration of literature, that Addison deserves gratitude and respect. He was not a profound original thinker; he. did not battle for great truths; timid, modest, yet gifted and graceful, his mis- sion was conservative and humane, rather than bold and crea- tive; yet it was adapted to the times and fraught with bless- ings. Addison, therefore, illustrates the amenities, and not the heroism, of literature. The almost feminine grace of his mind was unfavorable to its hardihood and enterprise. Both his virtues and his failings partook of the same character; kindli- ness, prudence, and serenity, rather than courage and generos- ity, kept him from moral evil, and won for him confidence and love. He was reserved, except when under the influence of intimate companions, or thawed by wine; could ill bear rivalry or interference, and even when consulted, would only hint a fault and hesitate dislike; and thus in letters and in 108 JOSEPH ADDISON. [July, life he occupied that safe and pleasant table-land unvexed by the storms that invade mountain heights and craggy sea-shore. Such a man, at subsequent and more agitated epochs in the history of English literature, would have made but little im- pression upon the thought of the age; but, in his times, an example of self-respect and gentleness, of refinement and Christian sentiment in authorship, had a peculiar value. There are two excellences which have chiefly preserved his influence, his rare humor, and the peculiar adaptation of his style to periodical literature. Lamb traces the latter, in a degree, to Sir William Temple; but Addison declared that Tillotson was his model. The description of Johnson is char- acteristic and just: He is never feeble, a ad he did not wish to be energetic; he is never rapid, and he never stagnates; his sentences have neither studied amplitude nor affected brevity; his periods, though not diligently rounded, are voluble and easy. It is, however, the colloquial tone, fusing these qualities into an harmonious whole, that renders Addisons style at once popular and classic. His conversation was not less admirable than his writing; and when we consider how large a portion of time was given by the English authors of that day to companionship and talk, we can easily imagine how much the habit influenced their pencraft. Both the hu- mor and the colloquialism of the Spectator were fostered by social agencies. Addison, says Swift, gave the first example of the proper use of wit; and, as an instance, he remarks, it was his practice, when he found any man invincibly wrong, to flatter his opinions by acquiescence, and sink them yet deeper into absurdity. Even partisan spite could ascribe to Addison no greater faults than fastidiousness, dogmatism, and conviviality; and for these, circumstances afford great excuse. The oracle, as he was, of a club, referred to as the arbiter of literary taste, conscious of superior tact and elegance in the use of lan- guage, and impelled by domestic unhappiness to resort to a tavern, we can easily make allowance for the dictatorial opin- ions and the occasional jollity of the great Mr. Addison; and when we compare him with the scurrilous and dissipated writers of his day, he becomes almost a miracle of excellence. 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 109 There was in his character, as in his writings, a singular even- ness. In politics a moderate Whig, prudent, timid, and somewhat cold in temperament, his kindliness of heart and religious principles, his wit and knowledge, saved from merely negative goodness both the man and the author. Yet a neu- tral tint, a calm tone, a repugnance to excess in style, in man- ners, and in opinion, were his characteristics. He lacked em- phasis and fire; but their absence is fully compensated by grace, truth, and serenity. It is not only among the moun- tains and by the sea-shore that Nature hoards her beauty, but also on meadow-slopes and around sequestered lakes; and in like manner human life and thought have their phases of tran- quil attraction and genial repose, as well as of sublime and impassioned development. ART. VI.1. Cuba and the Cubans. Comprising a History of the Island of Cuba, its present Social, Political, and Do- mestic Condition; also its Relation to England and the Unit- ed States. New York: Samuel Hueston and George Putnam. 1850. 2. Letter of ]lIr. Everett to the C~omte de Sartiges. Department of State. Washington, Dec. 1, 1852. 32d Congress, 2d Session. Senate Ex. Doc., No. 13. CUBA 1S fitly called the Queen of the Antilles. Proudly does she stretch her long coast, indented with fine harbors, easterly into the broad ocean, and westerly into the very mouth of the Gulf of Mexico, as if intended by Nature to be the motherly protector of the Caribbees and of an immense extent of continental coast. The island is also extraordina- rily rich in soil, and very equable and generally salubrious in climate, the sea-breeze springing up in the forenoon with great punctuality as soon as the freshness of the morning has departed, and continuing till the curtain of night shuts out the solar rays. Months may elapse without a sprinkling of rain; and yet there is an elasticity of atmosphere equal to that voL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 10

1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 109 There was in his character, as in his writings, a singular even- ness. In politics a moderate Whig, prudent, timid, and somewhat cold in temperament, his kindliness of heart and religious principles, his wit and knowledge, saved from merely negative goodness both the man and the author. Yet a neu- tral tint, a calm tone, a repugnance to excess in style, in man- ners, and in opinion, were his characteristics. He lacked em- phasis and fire; but their absence is fully compensated by grace, truth, and serenity. It is not only among the moun- tains and by the sea-shore that Nature hoards her beauty, but also on meadow-slopes and around sequestered lakes; and in like manner human life and thought have their phases of tran- quil attraction and genial repose, as well as of sublime and impassioned development. ART. VI.1. Cuba and the Cubans. Comprising a History of the Island of Cuba, its present Social, Political, and Do- mestic Condition; also its Relation to England and the Unit- ed States. New York: Samuel Hueston and George Putnam. 1850. 2. Letter of ]lIr. Everett to the C~omte de Sartiges. Department of State. Washington, Dec. 1, 1852. 32d Congress, 2d Session. Senate Ex. Doc., No. 13. CUBA 1S fitly called the Queen of the Antilles. Proudly does she stretch her long coast, indented with fine harbors, easterly into the broad ocean, and westerly into the very mouth of the Gulf of Mexico, as if intended by Nature to be the motherly protector of the Caribbees and of an immense extent of continental coast. The island is also extraordina- rily rich in soil, and very equable and generally salubrious in climate, the sea-breeze springing up in the forenoon with great punctuality as soon as the freshness of the morning has departed, and continuing till the curtain of night shuts out the solar rays. Months may elapse without a sprinkling of rain; and yet there is an elasticity of atmosphere equal to that voL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 10 110 CUBA AND TILE CUBANS. [July, of our October, while the heat cannot be surpassed by the dog-days of our August. We may have been accustomed to regard the rainy season as most intolerably gloomy. But not so. It is very commonly spoken of as even pleasanter than the winter or dry season; for though there is daily and very copious rain, it seldom continues more than an hour at a time, and though the soil of the island forms a soft mud, often a foot or two deep, yet the air is invigorating and vegetation most lux- uriant. The three kinds of soil the black, the red, and the mu- latto are all of surpassing richness, and may all be seen by the traveller on the line of the railroads, and they have almost the softness of flour as tested by the thumb and finger. The red soil is as red as brick-dust, and at first deceives the for- eigner into the belief that it cannot be fertile. But he cannot fail to see the growth of palm, plantain, oranges, coffee, and cane which it nourishes, and he is provokingly convinced of its impalpable fineness by the way in which it penetrates even glossy starched linen and the pores of his flesh, and by finding himself completely reddened from head to foot, beyond easy relief by soap or scrubbing-brush. We quite laughed at the idea that we should redden our washing-water and our towels by it for many days after returning to our Havana lodgings; but we found it even so. The soil, though thus fine, is not claycy; but the black has all the appearance of an exceedingly rich loam, as have the red and mulatto also, except in point of color. It readily crumbles under the hoe, yet retains the moisture well, and is often of almost immeas- urable depth. One may travel for miles over the extensive savannas, and not meet with a stone; and then, on ascending a hill, may be jolted over innumerable loose masses of lime- stone, often as large and angular as paving-blocks of gran- ite. We ascended to the summit of one such hill, perhaps a thousand feet above the surrounding plains, and feasted our eyes with a view that was perfectly enchanting. The princi- pal features of the landscape were the cane-fields, often of hun- dreds of contiguous acres, the palm-trees, occasional lofty ceibas, the tall white chimneys of the sugar-houses, and the residences of the planters surrounded by the barracoons of the negroes. 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 111 And though the palms sometimes weary the eye with their identity of form, so strikingly contrasting with the infinite va- riety of our noble elms, yet they have a cleanness, luxuriance, and stateliness which cannot be surpassed; aAd the ceiba or cotton-tree rises to a height of a hundred feet or more, and then sends forth its horizontal branches covered with foliage and peculiarly fitted to shelter the earth from the parching rays of the tropical sun. Travellers have said that there is no more beautiful scenery on the island than in the neighborhood of Matanzas, and surely there need not be, to satisfy the most scrutinizing lovers of nature. The ride upon the Cumbre, a high ridge of land that lies between the city and the ocean, commanding a view of both, as also of the valley of the Yumuri and of the high mountain ranges that stretch back into the interior, affords to the stranger almost all varieties of scenery in the space of a few hours. It was in this lovely vicinity, on a plantation be- longing to an American, that takes the name of Cumbre from its locality, that our late Vice-President sojourned while in Cu- ba, and it was there that he took the oath of office. The val- ley of the Yumuri is so surrounded by abrupt hills, that it is difficult to gain access to it except along the banks of its riv- er. But the river is very beautiful, and the deep gorge in the rocks through which it passes as it emerges from the valley is wonderfully grand, in some parts scarcely wide enough to ad- mit of a carriage-way beside the stream, and solemnly darkened by the overshelving rocks. One can hardly give a correct impression of society in Cu- ba xvithout some description of the style of building in the cities and the character of the streets. Havana, the capital of Cuba, contains about one hundred and thirty-five thousand inhabitants, and with its suburbs not less than two hundred thousand. Its appearance is that of an Oriental city. As in the great emporiums of the East, the buildings are chiefly of stone and stucco, and the streets narrow, in order that they may be kept well shaded, often so narrow that no room whatever is appropriated for sidewalks. Where sid~walks are constructed, they are of stone, sometimes but one foot and rarely three feet wide, while the carriage-way is a con- 112 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, glomeration of limestone and cement very white and dazzling, and ground on the surface into a fine dust, exceedingly irri- tating to the eyes and gritty to the mouth. To prevent these annoyances, many of the principal streets are in the process of being paved with New England granite, which is imported at considerable expense. The houses are of as great variety of height as the hills of the country, generally of one, not uncommonly of two, but rarely of three stories. The princi- pal rooms are often from fifteen to eighteen feet high. The windows are generally without glass, those on the ground floor being covered with a heavy iron grating to keep out in- truders. It is hard to rid ones self of the impression that he is in a city of jails, though the convicts certainly look remarka- bly well-dressed and happy. In the evening everybody within doors seems exposed to passers-by. It is said the ladies regard it as a compliment to be looked at, so that strangers and strag- glers may stare as much as they please without incurring the charge of impudence or verdancy. The large double doors to the main entrance of the Havana dwelling admits the volante, horse and all, or, what is rarely used, the carriage and pair. The vehicles are kept just within the entrance when not in use, and the horses, it may chance, under some of the best dormitories of the tenement. Yet everything is so clean that the custom is no nuisance. What strikes one strangely in Havana is, that there is no Beacon Street or Fifth Avenue, no aristocratic row. A most palace-like house will be found opposite or adjoining a mean and filthy hut, and indeed it is customary for a rich man to buy out his neighbors right to build a second story, in order to have the more extensive~~ view and the purer air. Women wear veils, but no bonnets, and those of the higher classes are rarely seen on the streets, ex- cept in volantes or other carriages. The population may be divided into several classes, the Spaniards, the Creoles, the free-colored, the slaves, and the foreigners. Of these, the natives of old Spain are the most aristocratic, holding all important offices of government, often possessing titles of nobility, and including in their number the most wealthy of the merchants and planters. They regard the Cre 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 113 oles, though entirely of Spanish extraction, as another and very inferior race; and though they mingle with them and employ them in business, they have very little social affinity with them. There is, however, no such thing in Cuba as a rank high enough to cut one off from attendance upon the bull-fights and cock-fights, or from participation in the lottery or even in the slave-trade. On all the railroads there are three classes of cars, in which the prices are nearly in the proportion of one, two, and three. The first class are rarely occupied except by the Castilians and foreigners, not often by the latter, unless they are igno- rant of the customs of the country. The Yankee, of course, thinks that he must ride in the first-class car, that is,must do as he would at home; but respectability requires it no more in Cuba than in England, and his spirit of economy and his republican sentiments will chime in together to make him bet- ter contented even with the hard benches and rickety cars of the second or third class. These being entirely open at the sides, he receives no annoyance to the olfactories, as with us, unless he sits to the leeward of fumigations of strong tobacco. Foreigners, judging from the obvious and public vices of the Cubans, are apt to paint their character in dark colors. According to the statistics of crime in the city of Havana for 1853, two thousand seveii hundred and nine persons were im- prisoned, of whom seventyseven were convicted of murder, four hundred and seventy-nine of wounding with dangerous weapons, forty-five of rape, twenty-seven of abduction, two hundred and twenty-one of robbery, and seven hundred and ninety of minor offences. There were during the same year one hundred and sixty-three suicides.* The gambling propen- sity which is universally indulged must occasion some reck- lessness in other respects. The billiard-rooms and the cock- pits, which are found everywhere, are of course accompanied by their correlatives, dram-shops and still darker dens of de- pravity. In Cuba, but perhaps no more than elsewhere, these are places of intense attraction for the viciously disposed of * In Boston, with a population differing very little in numbers from that of Ha- vana, there were committed, during the year 1853, on the charge of murder, eight; of rape, three; of robbery, sixteen; and there were fifteen cases of suicide. 10 114 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, all classes, not excepting those whose means and education would procure for them the highest, purest, and most delight- ful employment. The women of all conditions engage in the lottery almost as freely as the men, and those of the middle and lower class- es are addicted to smoking. We now recall with disagree- able vividness the remembrance of a white woman who smoked incessantly on the railway, in company with a colored man. In what relation the latter stood to her, we could not certify. It might have been the nearest; for though the amalgamation of the races is forbidden by law, it is often practised under a pretence, on the white side, of a slight mixture of negro blood. Bat the ease with which the woman whiffed the cigar-smoke, the carelessness of habit with which she fingered off the ashes, and her bold hale-fellow-well-met manners were unspeakably disgusting. Yet she was doubtless one of the low-bred, in a country where there is a vast distinction between high and low breeding. Well is it that with us the use of tobacco by the gentler sex is confined to the old crone with her pipe in the chimney-corner. The boldness of young ladies in Cuba is a matter of common remark with all strangers. Very beau- tiful they are, if you will exclude from your definition of beau- ty the expression of intellect and animation; and they have that comfortable consciousness of beauty, which courts admi- ration without repelling by haughtiness. It is certainly extra- ordinary, that with steady eye and unblushing cheek they can expose themselves, while riding on the paseo or sitting by their open windows, to the bold and free gaze of the young men. This boldness may be attributable to habit. But if it does not grow out of character, some peculiarities of character may arise from it. It does not strike a foreigner agreeably, what- ever satisfaction he, from a fresh curiosity, may derive from it. He, at least, concludes that the resources of the young people are of a frivolous character. One writer says, and we suppose with much truth The daily life of a Cuban lady is monotonous in the extreme. It is utterly devoid of intelligent exercise of mind or body, and, as a natu- ral consequence, both deteriorate sadly. A host of nervous diseases at- test the truth of this. Early rising is a virtue common to all ranks; 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 115 but the manner in which they contrive to kill time without reading, household occupations, or, in fact, any employment, except, perhaps, a little embroidery, is indeed a mystery. Cuba and the Cubans, p. 147. The indolence of women which unavoidably accompanies the system of slavery is doubtless unfavorable to morality, and there is a strict surveillance exercised over the Cuban women which quickens ones suspicions almost into convic- tion. Either because of prudishness, or from sad experience, society threatens the good reputation of a lady who ventures to ride with any other gentleman than her husband. Among the nobility there is said to be oftentimes a reck- less extravagance altogether disproportioned to their means. Rank demands that all the display of a grand establishment shall be sustained, no matter in how ruinous a condition the fortune may be. The full payment of debts is avoided by assembling the creditors (some of whom are of the family or fictitious), and agreeing upon yearly instalments by a vote of the majority, while the extravagant living of the family is regarded as necessary expenditure. The poor creditor is forced into compliance, and must take all his satisfaction in seeing the renewed extravagance of the marquiss or counts family, and the suc- cessful applications of numerous poor relatives and dependants. Cuba and the Cubans, p. 140. The native of Old Spain, from the high-titled count to the meanest soldier, feels a superiority over the Creole and treats him with contempt, though he would meet a foreigner with marked civility. The native of Cuba is rarely admitted to any office, civil, ecclesiastical, or military, and naturally re- gards with jealousy and hatred those who are sent froni the mother counfry to rule over him and enrich themselves by his gains. He often becomes wealthy on the plantation or in the counting-room; but all his property is at the mercy of those who have few interests in common with him, and with whom cruelty seems to be a natural characteristic. The Creoles hatred of the Castilians, and consequently of the government to which he feels constrained to submit, is nourished from early childhood, and he is constantly reminded of his inferiority, or his supposed inferiority, to the very end of his days. That the government fears this Class of the popula 116 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, tion there can be no doubt, and yet it has wonderfully succeed- ed in keeping them ignorant, cowering, and pusillanimous. To retain the masses in ignorance is the policy of a despotic gov- ernment as well as of the Romish Church, and Spain has al- ways looked with jealousy upon any attempt to enlighten the lower classes. Where they have been instructed, it has been by private philanthropy. Knowledge necessarily tends to ele- vate social standing and to increase political power, ends to be desired where the people are their own rulers, but much haz- arding public peace where the people are to be kept under by arbitrary force. Cuba can never make all its resources known, till its agriculture and commerce are under the control of an enlightened and energetic, because free, people. An interesting portion of the inhabitants of Cuba, to us of these United States who have an eye towards that island in anticipation of its annexation, is the colored population. According to the census of 1846, upwards of four hundred and seventy thousand were blacks and mulattoes, about one third of whom were free; while the whole number of whites was four hundred and twenty-five thousand. The number of free blacks is surprising, and must be attributable to some cause which does not operate in our Southern States. The truth is, that the blacks become free by their own efforts, favored by the laws of the country. The master is compelled to give the slave a portion of his time bearing a fixed ratio to such amount as he may have paid towards his liberty, provided that payment reach the sum of one hundred dollars; and he must also let him have all his time, if he wishes it, at the rate of a rial or twelve and a half cents per day for each hundred dollars of the balance of his value remaining unpaid. It is rare for the slaves on plantations to purchase their freedom, though common field hands are hired at the rate of from twenty-three to twenty-five dollars per month besides their food and clothing. The slaves in the city, who work upon the wharves, or in the streets and market-places, have much better opportunities of liberating themselves. One means of emancipation, oftener of course unfortunate than successful, is the lottery. Instances have occurred, however, of slaves suddenly coming to wealth by this means, and these rare 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 117 cases are the only argument we ever heard in defence of the morality of the lottery system.* The laws permit slaves who belong to different planters to intermarry, and require the masters to buy or sell, so that the parties can live together. Yet, as elsewhere where slavery exists, there is little regard for the marriage vows, and so se- verely are slaves overworked, and so little cared for are they by their masters, that the loss by death exceeds the natural increase. A sugar plantation during the dry season (at which time only can sugar be manufactured) presents a busy scene. The cane in the fields often far exceeds what the mills can pos- sibly grind, if it be not more than can be cut and carted by all the hands the planter can spare or procure for the purpose; and then it is that every contraction of the negros muscles affords additional clear profit to the master, and every moment cut from the hours of sleep or meals is so much gain. Then it is that every crack of the mayorals whip, driving the negro up to the extent of his ability, is counted as a piece of gold. And the poor menial works all day, except an hour for din- ner, snatching his breakfast and supper as best he can, in the sugar-house or the field; and as if that were not enough for flesh and blood, he must labor half the night also. The steam must be kept up, and the mills must continue in operation, incessantly, till some lucky day when the boilers need cleans- ing or the engine must be repaired; and only then does the slave have a respite from his sixteen or seventeen hours of daily work. Many years ago, before the introduction of the steam-engine, the annual loss by death was said to be fully ten per cent. No doubt it is much less now; but a compar- ison of the census taken in the years 1841 and 1846 will show that it is still very great, especially when we consider that the annual importation of blacks from Africa is estimated at about * The only lottery allowed on the island is public property, the profits going towards the support of the government or the emolument of its officers. Its highest prize is thirty thousand dollars, and its tickets, sold for five dollars, and divided into halves and quarters, are distributed all over the island, offered at the corners of the streets, in the public houses, and along the line of the railroads, and often thrust in ones face as our daily papers are. Many are also pui7chased by shipmasters and others for inhabitants of the United States. 118 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, two thousand. In 1817 there were 225,131 slaves; in 1827, 286,942; in 1841, 436,495; in 1846, 323,779. The rate of in- crease during the first ten years was 27 per cent.; during the next fourteen years, 52 per cent.; but during the five years frm 1841 to 1846, there was a decrease of 26 per cent. The constant increase of slaves up to some period between the years 1827 and 1841, and their subsequent decrease, strikingly show the efficiency of the measures that have been taken by the European powers and the United States for the suppres- sion of the slave-trade, while at the same time the mortality among this class is shocking, and commands the attention of the philanthropist. Although the slaves during the grinding season are allowed not more than five or six hours sleep out of the twenty-four, and although the statistics of mortality tell a sad story, that ought to be heeded by the master; yet at the end of the sea- son they appear so healthy and strong, that one can hardly believe that they have accomplished any extraordinary amount of labor. It is not very uncommon for the negroes to escape to the woods, and lead a wild life, in preference to the hard work and harsh treatment of the plantations. Dr. Abbot gives an ac- count of one belonging to an estate of a friend of his, who for some serious offence had been trammelled with irons. He watched his opportunity, and escaped into the woods, and though soon pursued, he had rid himself of his clanking chains, by which he might be traced. With lime-juice and his hatchet he had sawed off his irons; and one piece, too large to yield suddenly to this method, he had battered off between two stones. Some gentlemen, some time after, who were in pursuit of other negroes, came by surprise on this man. He was hunting a hutia, a kind of tree woodchuck, and so intense in his watch of the animal on the tree, that he easily fell into the hands of the hunters, who restored him to his master. Abbots Letters from Cuba, pp. 58, 59. Many of the slaves commit suicide, so many, that this is to be reckoned among the serious causes of their diminished numbers. They have a strong conviction that by death they shall return to their native country, and this they often regard as far preferable to their present life of toil. It is related that 1854.] CUBA AND TEE CUBANS. 119 on one estate eight were found hanging in company, in one night. In Cuba, if a slave is dissatisfied with his master because of maltreatment, he can compel the master to sell him at a valuation determined by referees; but the slaves have no voice in their nomination, and therefore justice is probably seldom done them. The referees are selected, one by the master and the others by an officer of government, the Sindico Procurador general. There are also unenforced laws respecting the relig- ious instruction of the slaves, and every one is reminded of these by the evening bell (the oracion) which rings daily on every estate to call the slaves to prayer; but the call is in general either utterly unheeded, or observed by a mere genu- flexion, or the hasty crossing of ones self. The religious condition of a people can hardly be spoken of with fitness apart from the social life, unless, as in Cuba, religion has so much degenerated into formalism, that its real essence is not to be discovered in the common relations of man with man. Perhaps there is no country in Christendom or heathendom, where it is less understood what it is to wor- ship God in the beauty of holiness. Indeed, we cannot be- lieve that there is any country where the outward ceremonies of devotion are abandoned more completely to priests and officials. The only Sabbath service now-a-days is a brief mass, performed generally in a careless and irreverent manner, and witnessed by a very small portion of the people. In the immense cathedral at Havana, there were less than a hundred worshippers, all told, on a Sabbath on which we were present. There was no music, no sermon, no instruction of any kind; for the mutterings of the priest must have been quite unintelligible, even to those who were well acquainted with the language in which they were uttered. On one occasion, we found the Church of the Holy Spirit crowded. It was a military mass, and the chief attractions might have been of a martial character; for with a full band, and in perfect military order, the soldiers marched to and from the church. Instead of chants or anthems was heard the real music of the opera, from a large and well-appointed orchestra. The ceremonies of the priest were utterly disregarded by the soldiery, except, 120 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, perhaps, when the tinkling of the bell would move them, au- tomaton-like, to cross themselves. They are, indeed, little else than automatons at any time, and the universal wooden face presents a striking contrast to the intelligent expression of the energetic, ingenious, and independent Yankee militia- man. Leaving the church more demure than devout, they were doubtless ready to engage in military tactics just as de- murely and as devoutly. The rest of the congregation was of all classes, colors, and styles of dress; and though much has been said, and with much justice, of the impartial character of the Romish service, admitting the poor to an equality of priv- ilege xvith the rich, yet it was evident that there were higher and lower seats, and the corresponding sentiments of prece- dence and inferiority. Very showily dressed ladies were seated on very rich mats or chairs; their servants behind or near them, kneeling or prostrating themselves upon the bare floor of marble or cement. When the ladies arose to depart, the servants arose also, and carried out their seats. Both priest and people leave the church to meet again in the evening at the bull-fight or cock-pit. The priests enjoy large livings, are often extravagant in their habits, and gen- erally indulge in luxuries and vices. Their vow of chastity is perpetually broken. They not only visit the gambling-houses, but are themselves gamblers. The author of Cuba and the Cubans truly says: They are not respected; on the con- trary, they are despised; and as their conduct belies the doc- hines they have sworn to propagate, they set themselves quietly down to enjoy the bodily comforts of this life, without troubling themselves about their own or their flocks spiritual welfare. The Romanists in the United States are ashamed of those of their own communion in Cuba. It is said that the Church and its officials have greatly degenerated; but Abbot wrote, as long ago as 1828, that there was a fearless violation of one, at least, of the ecclesiastical laws. A very singular fact in a Catholic country, holding the celibacy of the clergy as indispensable, is, that most of the padres have families; and few of them are bashful on the subject, or think it necessary to speak of their housekeeper as a sister or cousin, or of the children that play about the house as nephews and nieces. They even go further, 1854.] CUBA AND TILE CUBANS. 121 and will sometimes reason on the subject, and defend habits contrary to the ecclesiastical authority, upon principles of nature and common sense. Certainly an unnatural and unscriptural imposition, which is so unblush- ingly evaded, should not be attempted to be enforced; but should be revoked. The fearless violation of one law of a community weakens the authority of the whole statute-book. Abbots Letters from Cuba, p. 15. The same writer says of the habit of gambling among the priests Some have been known to delay mass to see the end of a cock- fight, and to pit their own cock against the cock of any slave in the circle, who has an ounce or a rial to lay on his head The influence of the clergy is on the wane, and from the habit of mankind, however unreasonable, of confounding the religion itself with the char- acter of its professors, and especially of its ministers, it brings Chris- tianity, heaven-born and spotless as it is, into suspicion, and exposes it to desertion by the young and unreflecting. Ibid., pp. 15, 16. It was then, in 1828, confidently believed that infidelity was becoming common in the island, and certainly the present in- difference even to the outward forms of religion shows that belief to have been well founded. According to law, all, whether blacks or whites, must be baptized; but the neglect of this rite is winked at. The priests, however, occasionally visit the plantations, and baptize all those for whom the ser- vice has not previously been performed. Something may always be inferred, concerning the religious and social condition of a people, from their cemeteries and their manner of burying the dead. The Campos Santos, the only burial-ground of Matanzas, a city of more than twenty thousand inhabitants, contains, perhaps, four acres. it is a very uninteresting spot, entirely unadorned by trees, shrubbery, or architectural designs. So small a space is made to answer so great a purpose by constant disinterments, which often take place before the flesh is eaten from the bones; and frequently, for lack of room, the bodies are scarcely covered with earth. Such customs must be peculiarly offensive, unhealthy, and unpardonable in a hot climate. We can give no account from personal observation of the cemetery of Havana; but the writer of Notes on Cuba, published in 1844, describes it as VOL. LXXIX.NO. 164. 11 122 CUBA AND TUE CUBANS. [July, a level square, divided into four equal parts by two trans- verse, flagged walks. Each quarter was, moreover, inclosed by a low, neat iron railing, and had in one corner a receptacle for the bones disinterred in digging new graves. They were all more than filled, the pile of bleached skulls and other bones being heaped up above the top of the walls of each; while, to soothe the friends of the deceased for the liberty thus taken with their remains, above them four obelisks raised their tall forms, having inscribed on them the comfortable assurance, Exultabunt ossa humiliata. About forty tall pines of the country, resembling cedars, threw a partial shade over the walks, while the ground, bare of shrub- bery, was covered by a luxurious growth of grass. At the extremity of the middle walk was a small, neat chapel, containing a few fresco paint- ings, and a chaste altar in the form of a sarcophagus, supporting a small image of our Lord on the cross. Within and over the door and porch without, suitable inscriptions in Latin referred to the final resur- rection, and the happiness of those who die the death of the righteous. Notes on Cuba, pp. 28, 29. This writers account of interments confirms what we have said of the cemetery at Matanzas At the other end of the square, two negroes were busily employed in digging new graves, breaking up the stiff clay with pickaxes, and throwing out with each spadeful of earth numerous bones, some of which were still connected by their ligaments, and were intermingled with portions of clothes and shoes. This cemetery contains only four or five acres, and from ten to twelve bodies being daily interred in it, this deficiency is greatly felt, and quick-lime is often thrown into the graves to hasten their decomposition, while the contents of the four charnel-houses are burnt to ashes, as soon as they become filled. ]b~d., pp. 29, 80. It is almost universally the custom, to this day, to use a coffin only for the purpose of carrying the body to the grave, so that the same coffin may answer for a hundred in dividuals. Several bodies are often thrown in together, without regard to kindred, rank, or race. The burial service is said to be as cold and heartless as the Church mass. The priests have too little sympathy for the people, and too imperfectly acquire their confidence, to afford them any effective consolation. We believe justice permits no more favorable account than 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 123 we have given of the religious condition of Cuba. The Cap- tain-General, ODonnell, who held sway from 1843 to 1848, suppressed the organization of Sunday schools, lest, through the little children, a faint glimmer of light might awaken their parents from the dark night of their ignorance and supersti- tion. If we may believe the reports of travellers, a great change has come over Cuba. It is said that, twenty-five years ago, one would be sure, in a respectable Cuban family, to meet with religious feelings and practices which even to a foreigner of a different creed appeared cheering and grateful. At the hour of twilight, a church bell rung through the city would create everywhere a sudden and simultaneous excitement. It was the Angelus, and at its sound all persons of all classes would at once rise to say their evening prayers; children and servants would, at its conclusion, ask a blessing from their parents or masters; while every carriage and passenger would pause in the street, every workman would suspend his toil, and a general manifestation of religious reverence would be exhibited. Cuba and the Cubans, p. 162. The change in these respects is doubtless owing to a cor- rupt political government more than to all other causes. The government takes the Church into its own charge, and ap- points to its offices its own creatures. The very members of the Chapter of the Cathedral of havana are now named at Madrid, in disregard of the canonical proposals from the board according to law. Day after day and year after year have been suffered to pass without an appointment to fill the long vacant bishopric of Havana, and thirty years have elapsed since the sacrament of Confirmation, as it is termed by the Roman Catholics, has been ad- ministered in the several districts of the diocese, which should be regu- larly visited once a year. ibid., p. 157. In 1589, nearly a century after Cuba was discovered, the first Captain-General was appointed, and the government took substantially the same form which it still retains. Ever since, it has been the policy of the mother country to appoint gov- ernors, with very arbitrary power, at intervals of not more than five years, so that in the period of two centuries and a half there have been no less than fifty-seven chief magistrates. These men, with very few exceptions, have returned to the 124 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, mother country with great fortunes. This alone is a signifi- cant and discouraging fact to the poor Creole, who has no prospect of ever attaining to that or any other high office. Valdez, appointed in lS4l,is said to have been a remarkable exception to the general style of character. He was liberal towards the Cubans, and endeavored to abide faithfully by the treaties respecting the African slave-trade; but he was not the man to suit the home government, and was soon dis- missed. Having entered the palace poor, he left it no less so, making room for a man who exhibited the opposite extreme of tyranny and narrow-mindedness. This man, General ODon- nell, was in authority at the time of the negro insurrection. A little incident is related as characteristic of his family: At the close of one of General ODonnells balls, his wife sent for the baker who had supplied the entertainment, to come at 8 oclock, A. NI. to take back the loaves not used! The baker refused, saying that he could not sell them except as stale bread, at a very reduced price. To this she replied, that she had sent for him at so early an hour, that he might have the chance of mixing it with the fresh bread he was to send around to his customers that morning. She was engaged in all kinds of profitable undertakings, of the most obscure and common pursuits in life; monopolies of the most repugnant character were introduced for her advantage, based on the unbounded authority of a provincial tyrant. The cleansing of the sewers, and the locality fixed for the reception of the manure and dirt of the city, were among the many sources of wealth which she did not scruple to turn to her advantage. But nothing was so fruitful to this family of dealers as the slave-trade, which, it was pub- licly asserted, furnished emoluments even to the daughter of the Cap- tain-GeneraL Cuba and the Cubans, p. 4~5. It has been well known for many years, that the Captain- General has received hush-money for the slaves clandestinely imported from Africa. This must be true of Canedo, who has just returned to Spain, after an administration of only a year and a half, if in that time, as is reported, he has amassed over a million of dollars. The writer of Cuba and the Cubans~ says, (on what authority we know not,) that the amount paid to the Captain-General was formerly half an ounce of gold for every bag of charcoal (that is, in the language of slavers, every slave brought over from Africa), but that it has now risen to the large sum of three doubloons. 1854.1 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 125 As we were walking the streets of Matanzas, our landlord pointed out to us the governor of the city, overseeing an ex- cavation in the side of a hill. The work was done by con- victs in chains, and the profits were to go into his pocket. This man, we were told, was known within a few years to have invested some fifty thousand dollars in the slave-trade. When reported to the Captain-General, he was arrested and imprisoned by way of form, to keep up appearances before the British government; but he was soon released, and reinstated in office, the Captain-General having been well compensated for the shrewd operation. Some ten years ago, a Southern writer, by no means dis- posed to palliate the evils of slavery, or to exaggerate the slave-trade, estimated the number of slaves imported at two thousand a year. The number is probably much greater, not- withstanding the vigilance of British cruisers. While the English know that the traffic is carried on, they cannot prevent it without the assistance of the local government. But, as we have already seen, the officers are interested parties, and pretend to show that the slaves are imported from Brazil. This is very absurd, as these fresh-imported slaves know noth- ing of the Spanish, or of any other language than their native African. Indeed, there is no secrecy about the general fact, and one planter boasted in our hearing that all his slaves, to the number of several hundred, were native Africans. They were considered superior to the degenerate Creole blacks. But there are other modes by which the officers of govern- ment fill their own coffers. The import duties are very high. An impost of four dollars per barrel is levied on Spanish flour, of eight dollars on foreign flour, if imported in Cuban or Span- ish vessels, and of ten and a half if imported in foreign vessels. But the colonial tariff may best be judged of by the following summary: On 824 articles, there is a duty of 33j per cent. 13 2to7j 25 no duty. The United States as producers and Cuba as a consumer of course suffer severely by this oppressive tariff, the sole pur- 11* 126 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, pose of which is to raise funds to support a military despotism, which the people of Cuba despise no less than we do. But the policy of the government is bad, even for their own ends; for the custom-house officers are very inadequately paid, and they combine in a perfect system of corruption, which is con- nived at by all the authorities. It is very well known by shipmasters and merchants, that no vessel can enter her whole cargo at the custom-house, without being subjected to extreme annoyance from the officers of the customs. But if half of the cargo is entered, and the officers are bribed with half duty for the remainder, all will go on smoothly. This fact is noto- rious, and is constantly proved to the people and the govern- ment by the splendid establishments that are supported in a city where living is very expensive, on salaries of from two to three hundred dollars. The fish and meat markets were monopolized by General Tacon, so that by his own report it appears that these commod- ities were raised at least thirty per cent. It is not very long since the trade in tobacco was monopolized. The citizen of these States, who is at liberty to travel throughout his own country at will, is not a little annoyed by the Spanish pass- port regulations. He pays two dollars before he sails, to the Spanish Consul, two when he arrives, for the privilege of going ashore, something more, for travelling into the inte- rior; and though it might appear from these exactions that his presence on the island is unwelcome, he finds that he must pay six or seven dollars for the privilege of leaving it. Salt is found in great abundance along the shore, and would pay handsomely for the labor of securing it, were it not for the immense duty upon it, of twenty-five dollars per hundred- weight. It has been estimated that regular taxes to the amount of more than twenty millions of dollars are collected by the order of the Spanish government, the Captain-General, the lieu- tenant-governors, and the district judges of the interior. This immense revenue is for the support of the officers of govern- meiit, the army of twenty thousand men, and the navy, and for remittances to the court. But besides these pecuniary oppressions, there are many 1854.1 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 127 other annoyances to the poor Cuban. No one can have in his house any company or amusements of any sort without a license. Every inhabitant must procure a license to go from the town or city of his residence. One cannot be in the streets after ten oclock in the evening without a lantern and leave of the watchmen he may meet. No one is permitted to lodge a foreigner in his house without giving information to the proper authorities. One cannot remove his residence from one house to another without giving similar notice. The Cuban is con- stantly reminded of his degraded condition. Every palace and fortification, every church and policeman, the hoarse, hourly cry of the watch at night, the soldiery guarding the gates of the city, or performing their daily tactics, even the sweet evening music of the band upon the Plaza, reminds him that the foot of the oppressor is upon his neck. There have been times when the government was much less rigorous than now. This was the case in the early part of the present century, when Spain herself was struggling for independence. In 1812 and in 1820 the constitution was proclaimed, the perpetual members of the municipalities were at once deprived of office, and their successors elected by the people. These changes were not without their effect upon Cuba. A goodly portion of the old Spaniards were anxious to retain constitutional forms in the island, when they were known to be losing ground in Spain. But when the old coun.. try returned to her despotic system, and Ferdinand was re- stored, it was more necessary than ever to establish sfringent regulations in the colonies. In 1825 a royal order was issued establishing martial law in the island, and investing the Captain-General with thc whole extent of power which, by the royal ordinances, is granted to the governors of besieged towns unrestrictedly authorizing him to remove from the island alt persons, holding offices from government or not, what- ever their occupation, rank, class, or situation in life may be, whose residence there he may believe prejudicial, or whose public or private conduct may appear suspicious to him, employing in their stead faithful servants of his Majesty, who shall fully deserve his Exellencys confi- dence. Also, to suspend the execution of whatever royal orders or general decrees, in all the different branches of the administration, or in 128 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, any part of them, his Excellency may think prejudicial to the royal service. Cuba and the Cubans, p. 55. This power still remains vested in the Captain-General, and it is even said that the incumbent just appointed has some additional authority. If the laws are made more sfrmn- gent as fast as republican sentiments spread, the pent-up dis- satisfaction must at length inevitably burst out in all the vol- canic fury of a revolution. The Cubans seem reduced almost to the lowest exfreme of cowardice and servility. What shall come next? We may not interpret accurately the signs of the times; but they indicate that some change must take place before many years. Our slave-holding States are anxious for annexation, and, independently of the slave interest, the ruling spirit of our government is grasping, so that there is an inclination to add even the far-off islands of the Pacific to our Union. Fillibus- tering expeditions are continually reported to be organizing in New York and New Orleans, and are continually expected in Cuba, while to stimulate them and the Cubans themselves, the Cuban Junta, or Committee of Exiles, has issued an ad- dress, which is said to have been circulated extensively in the island, in which they attempt to show, by the collation of assumed and admitted facts, that Spain is about to take meas- ures for surrendering Cuba to the domination of enfranchised slaves; and that the only way in which so disasfrous a result can be prevented is by a revolution which shall wrest the island from the Spanish power, and place its government in the hands of its own people. Again, it is falsely reported, no doubt for the purpose of exciting the annexationists to more hasty action, that the English are about to Africanize Cuba by negotiations with the Spanish government, that is, to infroduce African appren- tices; the effect of which measure might be to give a death- blow to slavery, and to render the acquisition of the island un- desirable to Southerners, while it would initiate a system hardly less oppressive than slavery. Lord Howden denies all such intention on the part of England, while he states what is al- most as significant, that, as British Ambassador at Madrid, he has made unceasing representations of the number of slaves 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 129 annually imported into the island, and complaints of the al- most open manner in which the traffic is carried on under the very eye of the Captain-General; that he has been making fruitless efforts to get the Spanish government to declare the abominable traffic in men piracy; that he has successfully sought the liberation of the Emancipados, that is, men who have been fraudulently retained in bondage since 1817; and that he has endeavored to procure an abrogation of that intol- erant and immoral law by which foreigners settling in Cuba are obliged to change their religion, on the somewhat startling principle (not understood elsewhere), that becoming bad men is a satisfactory preliminary to becoming good subjects. To all this may be added the fact, that there are already several thousand coolies from China at work successfully in the cities and plantations as apprentices, and that the mer- chants are continually importing more. The merchants re- ceive for them about one hundred and fifty dollars at the out- set, and the purchaser, or rather hirer, must give them wages at the rate of four dollars per month, for eight years, after which they are at liberty to let themselves as best they may. There are great objections to this system. The apprentices will not find adequate protection from the government, and will be al- most as much at the mercy of their employers as the slaves now are. But this movement must essentially modify the system of slavery, and exercise an important influence upon the destiny of the island. The new Captain-Genera] has is- sued a decree suppressing the slave-trade, and authorizing instead thereof the introduction of free East-Indian laborers. In connection with this decree, new regulations were pub- lished respecting the Emancipados or negroes carried to Cuba by British men-of-war. It appears that neither these nor the apprentices will be more than nominally free. If they remain in the island, the Emancipados, like the apprentices, will be contracted for through the intervention of government, will be under the supervision of a Board of Protection to be composed partly of the syndics and corporation of Havana, and one fourth of their wages will be discounted for the benefit of the government. It may well be questioned whether this Board of Protection will secure justice to the apprentices, especially 130 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, as appeal to it will be exceedingly difficult for those who are upon plantations at a distance from Havana. But there is at least a show of mercy in some articles of the decree, what- ever may be the obstacles in the way of its operation. One article provides for a change of service in behalf of those dis- satisfied with their masters. As all contracts are to be made through this benevolent board, it will doubtless take ample heed for the governments share of the wages. Perhaps it would as appropriately be called the Board of Compulsion. Doubtlt~ss its prot6g6s will be tempted to exclaim, Save us from our friends! Such a decree as this, leaving employers and laborers at the mercy of officials, instead of securing redress of grievances by courts of justice, will be likely to result in a relation little bet- ter than that of master and slave. Whatever difference may remain between the condition of apprentice and that of the slave, will tend to produce discontent. The terms will be suf- ficiently advantageous to excite the ambition of the slaves, and restricted enough to fret and chafe the new immigrants, if not also the Emancipados. It is by no means certain that this discontent will end in insurrection and victory on the part of the blacks, Africanizing Cuba; but it can hardly fail to do something towards still further unsettling the already unstable condition of the island. Among the signs that have looked toward a change in the political condition of Cuba must be mentioned the insurrec- tionary movements in 1841 and the two succeeding years, and the cruel means adopted by the government to suppress them, which every traveller for a century to come will hear spoken of with horror. The barbarity of the Spanish Inquisi- tion of the fifteenth century hardly exceeded that of the offi- cials of Cuba in 1843. Confessions were forced by the most cruel torture, and many a negro was put to death who was perfectly innocent. It seemed to be taken for granted that all were guilty of conspiracy. It is related that one of the offi- cers, who was prosecuting attorney, judge, and executioner at the same time, namely, Don Ramon Gonzales, ordered his victims to be taken to a room which had been white-washed, and the walls of which were literally covered with blood and 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 131 small pieces of flesh, from the wretches who had preceded them. Here stood a bloody ladder, where the accused were tied, with their heads downward, and whether free or slaves, if they would not avow what the fiscal officer insinuated, they were whipped to death by two stout mulattoes selected for this purpose. They were scourged with leathern straps, hav- ing at the end a small destructive button, made of fine wire. But it is not necessary to relate more particularly the suffer- ings of the blacks, both free and colored, or the cruelty and rapacity of the officers. The story could hardly be exagger- ated. Such an arbitrary mode of suppressing an insurrection could only produce hatred and tend towards revolution. And, indeed, it is only when a government fails to command the affection and respect of the people, that it is necessary to exer- cise such cruelty. Even the army sent from the old country shows occasional signs of discontent, and the soldiers are kept in subordination only by constantly shifting them, regiment by regiment, from one military station to another, that no such intimacy may spring up as to enable them to combine and conspire. The case of the steamer Black Warrior, which for some years has plied between New York and Mobile, touching at Havana, has produced great sensation in the community, and has proved a good test of the disposition of our present ad- ministration regarding Cuba. Doubtless the agents of the steamer violated a revenue law of the port of Havana, in rep- resenting her as in ballast, when she had cotton on board, and they should have had it entered at the custom-house as in transit. A duty is required on the cargo of all vessels en- tering or leaving the port, even if no goods should be landed or received there. The agents excuse to the authorities, that, as far as regards Havana, she is in ballast; she neither brings cargo to Havana nor takes it away, it matters not whether her ballast be bales of cotton or stone, is a poor subterfuge. The advantage of the twelve hours allowed by law to correct a manifest was claimed; but was refused on the ground that the clearance visit had been applied for. Probably it would have been sufficient reason for a refusal, that the privilege was intended for the correction of uninten 132 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, tional errors only. The British steamers have always sub- mitted to precisely what was required of the Black Warrior, entering all cargoes that were in transit. On the other hand, it is asserted that the Black Warrior has entered the harbor of Havana some thirty-six times, her man- ifest always representing her as in ballast; that the steamers of the George Law and other lines have probably entered at least three hundred times and with similar manifests; that this fact has been well known to the authorities; and moreover, that full cargoes have been repeatedly transferred from one of these steamers to another, under the eye of the officers of gov- ernment. Indeed, we are constrained to believe that the gov- ernment cannot plead ignorance of such violation of its laws, since officers have always been sent on board of the steamers upon their arrival, and kept there during their stay, for the prevention of contraband trade. The laws had been violated so long and so notoriously by the American steamers with impunity, that the owners of the Black Warrior had a right to expect, as a matter of courtesy at least, that due notice would be given before enforcing them. The authorities will probably attempt to show that such notice was given. Should they fail to do so, it will be time to be indignant. But we should earnestly deprecate any efforts to use such an incivility as an occasion for war with Spain and for the cap- ture of Cuba. It may be construed into an acknowledgment of fault, that a messenger was sent from Havana to the Spanish legation at Washington, with an offer to pay damages to the owners of the steamship. But this may only be an indication of a disinclination on the part of the Governor-General to get into trouble with the United States. On the other hand, it may be regarded as an acknowledgment of fault on the part of the owners of the Black Warrior, that they have consented to take back the vessel after having abandoned it, and to pay, though under protest, a fine of six thousand dollars. And the acknowledgment is the more clear, if, as is stated, they have petitioned the Queen, in supplicatory terms, to remit the fine. Our government has sent a special messenger to Mr. Soul6, its Minister at the Court of Spain, to demand immediate satis 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 133 faction; and from the tenor of the Presidents message to the House of Representatives on this subject, and from the fact that France and England are now engaged in the European war, and therefore cannot render aid against us, there seemed ground for apprehending, on the part of our government, in- justice to Spain, if not measures of open hostility. Recent despatches from Madrid are, we regret, not adapted to remove such fears. We have introduced the Black Warrior affair as having an important; bearing on the political relations between our own counfry and Cuba. There are indeed many indications of an approaching change in the condition of that island; and in what direction shall that change be? Cuba will perhaps be- come independent. Yet her people will hardly be able to sustain their independence, heterogeneous as they are, and unaccustomed to bear any part in church or state. England cannot hold the island without coming into perpetual conflict with our government. Besides, England has too many colonies already for her navy, immense and powerful as it is. It is the manifest destiny ~ of the island to come, sooner or later, into the possession of the United States. There is one course of action by which a revolution may be anticipated, and that is by peaceable cession. No laws of morality will allow our nation to fight for it, though she might easily wrest it from poor, weak Spain; nor must we permit any private expedi- tions; but it might be to our advantage to purchase it, and it would be greatly to the advantage of the Cubans themselves. Ah! but there is the question of slavery. Regarding this question in the abstract, it presents a great objection. We wish to have nothing to do with the institution. But looking at things as they are, it appears not improbable, notwithstand- ing the expectations of our Southern fellow-citizens to the contrary, that, iii case of annexation, slaves in large numbers would be transported from the States where their labor is now unprofitable, or comparatively so, to those rich and productive sugar estates, rendered far more profitable as they would be by free frade with us and diminished restrictions of trade with other countries. Thus, such States as Virginia, Ken- tucky, and Delaware would the more speedily become free. VOL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 12 134 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, In reply to this, it may be said that it would be death to the Northern slaves to be transported to a warmer climate, and to be there subjected to unceasing labor. If such is likely to be the case, then we should utterly deprecate the annexation of Cuba as a slave State. Indeed, we doubt whether any considerations whatever could justify her admission to the Union except on the basis of freedom and equality of political rights for all her inhabitants. Yet we cannot but hope that, sooner or later, the island will be offered to us on such condi- tions as we can conscientiously accept. But why should we want Cuba? First of all, because Cu- ba needs a better government, because she would be intrin- sically of more value, and her people would be vastly more happy, under republican institutions. It would be an office of philanthropy to receive her. But, in addition to this, it may be said that our country will derive much direct benefit from improved modes of culture and manufacture on the Cu- ban plantations, and from the reduction of duties on their prod- ucts. The inevitable result would be a great reduction in the price of sugars throughout the country; for an export duty is imposed by the Spanish government, and a protection is granted in the United States for the culture and manufacture of sugar in Louisiana, where the cane must be planted once in three years, (instead of once in ten or twenty years, as in Cuba,) and never fully ripens on account of frost. In a commercial point of view, Cuba would be exceedingly important to whatever country may hold possession of her, but far more so to us than she could be to any other nation, for she could easily blockade all the ports of the Gulf of Mex- ico, and cut off our vessels on the route to the Isthmus. The Cuban coast is less than a hundred miles from Yucatan, and but little more than a hundred from Florida, and stretches far eastward into the ocean. Cuba can be brought into direct telegraphic communication with every portion of the United States, and, by means of railroads and steamboats, within three or four days journey from Washington. The distance between Cape Sable in Florida and Jaruco in Cuba can readily be spanned by telegraph wires when there shall be occasion for it, and already the government of Spain are 1854.] CUBA AND THE CUBANS. 135 establishing a thousand miles of telegraph upon the island, a portion of it being now in operation. It is well known that about two years ago England and France proposed a convention with the United States relative to Cuba. Our government was solicited to acquiesce in the following article: The high contracting parties hereby severally and collectively dis- claim, now and hereafter, all intention to obtain possession of the isl- and of Cuba, and they respectively bind themselves to discountenance all attempts to that effect on the part of any power or individuals what- ever. The high contracting parties declare severally and collectively, that they will not obtain or maintain for themselves, or forany one of themselves, any exclusive control over said island, nor assume nor ex- ercise any dominion over the same. In the admirable reply from the Department of State at Washington, Mr. Everett takes the position that the United States cannot come to equal terms with France and England respecting Cuba. The President, he says, does. not covet the acquisition of Cuba for the United States; at the same time, he considers the condition of Cuba mainly as an American question. The proposed convention pro- ceeds on a different principle. It assumes that the United States have no other or greater interest in the question than France or England; whereas it is necessary only to cast ones eye on the map to see how remote are the relations of Europe, and how intimate are those of the United States, with this island. The United States feel no uneasiness at the acquisitions that Eng- land and France have already made; but the transfer of Cuba to either of these powers would be a different thing. We should view it in some- what the same light in which France and England would view the ac- quisition of some important island in the Mediterranean by the United States; with this difference, it is true, that the attempt of the United States to establish themselves in Europe would be a novelty, while the appearance of a European power in this part of the world is a familiar fact. But this difference in the two cases is merely historical, and would not diminish the anxiety which, on political grounds, would be caused by any great demonstration of European power in a new direc- tion in America. The objections to the convention were, 1. That it would not be viewed with favor by the Senate, 136 CUBA AND THE CUBANS. [July, and its rejection by that body would leave the question of Cuba in a more unsettled position than before. 2. It may be doubted whether the Constitution of the United States would allow the treaty-making power to im- pose a permanent disability on the American government for all coming time, and prevent it under any circumstances from doing what has been so often done in times past. Louisiana and Florida have been purchased. May not circumstances at some future period favor and justify the purchase of Cuba? 3. It has been the policy of our government to avoid en- tangling alliances with European powers. 4. The island of Cuba is remote from Europe, but lies at our doors. It is in a position to control our commerce. If it guarded the entrance of the Thames or the Seine, instead of the Mississippi, and we should propose a convention like this to France and England, those powers would assuredly feel that the disability assumed by ourselves was far less seri- ous than that which we asked them to assume. This document from the Secretary of State represents the vast increase of the territory of the United States, and the in- evitable continuance of that increase, and adds Little less than half a million of the population of the Old World is annually pouring into the United States, to be incorporated into an industrious and prosperous community, in the bosom of which they find political and religious liberty, social position, employment, and bread. It is a fact that would defy belief, were it not the result of official inquiry, that the immigrants to the United States from Ireland alone, besides having subsisted themselves, have sent back to their kindred, for the last three years, nearly five millions of dollars annually. Such is the territorial development of the United States in the past century. Is it possible that Europe can contemplate it with an unfriendly or jealous eye? What would have been her condition in these trying years, but for the outlet we have furnished for her starving millions? Mr. Everett argues that, as Great Britain has been benefited by the prosperous commerce that has resulted from the estab- lishment of the independence of the United States, by the home that has been provided for the multitudes she could not or would not support, and the remittances her subjects have received from them, so Spain, far from being injured by the 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 137 loss of this island, would, by peacefully transferring it to the United States, derive more profit from the free commerce that would spring up with her, favored above all other nations by ancient associations and common language and tastes, than from the best contrived system of colonial taxation. Cuba commands the sympathies of every friend of freedom. Shall she not be liberated from the despotic power of Spain? When liberated, can she comfortably remain independent, with hungry John Bull on one side, and greedy Jonathan on the other? Either country would propose a connection to the island far more advantageous for it than solitary indepen- dence. Surely we can afford to outbid England; for even if we do not want it ourselves, we cannot permit it to go into the possession of any other powerful nation. We watch with interest, not to say jealousy, every new de- velopment relating to this island, and trust that the time will be hastened when, if not ours, it shall become, by the intro- duction of such liberal institutions of government, of learn- ing, and of religion as we enjoy, what Nature seems to have designed it to be, the Queen of the Antilles and the garden of the world. ART. VII. Thesaurus of English Words, so classified and arranged as to facilitate the Expression of Ideas and assist in Literary Composition. By PETER MARK ROGET, late Secretary of the Royal Society, Author of the Bridgewater Treatise on Animal and Vegetable Physiology, & c. Re- vised and edited, with a List of Foreign Words, defined in English, and other Additions. By BARNAS SEAR5~ D.D., Secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Education. Bos- ton: Gould & Lincoln. l2mo. pp. 468. WE congratulate that large, respectable, inexpressive, and unexpressed class of thinkers, who are continually complain- ing of the barrenness of their vocabulary as compared with the affluence of their ideas, on the appearance of Dr. Rogets 12

1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 137 loss of this island, would, by peacefully transferring it to the United States, derive more profit from the free commerce that would spring up with her, favored above all other nations by ancient associations and common language and tastes, than from the best contrived system of colonial taxation. Cuba commands the sympathies of every friend of freedom. Shall she not be liberated from the despotic power of Spain? When liberated, can she comfortably remain independent, with hungry John Bull on one side, and greedy Jonathan on the other? Either country would propose a connection to the island far more advantageous for it than solitary indepen- dence. Surely we can afford to outbid England; for even if we do not want it ourselves, we cannot permit it to go into the possession of any other powerful nation. We watch with interest, not to say jealousy, every new de- velopment relating to this island, and trust that the time will be hastened when, if not ours, it shall become, by the intro- duction of such liberal institutions of government, of learn- ing, and of religion as we enjoy, what Nature seems to have designed it to be, the Queen of the Antilles and the garden of the world. ART. VII. Thesaurus of English Words, so classified and arranged as to facilitate the Expression of Ideas and assist in Literary Composition. By PETER MARK ROGET, late Secretary of the Royal Society, Author of the Bridgewater Treatise on Animal and Vegetable Physiology, & c. Re- vised and edited, with a List of Foreign Words, defined in English, and other Additions. By BARNAS SEAR5~ D.D., Secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Education. Bos- ton: Gould & Lincoln. l2mo. pp. 468. WE congratulate that large, respectable, inexpressive, and unexpressed class of thinkers, who are continually complain- ing of the barrenness of their vocabulary as compared with the affluence of their ideas, on the appearance of Dr. Rogets 12 138 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, volume. If it does nothing else, it will bring a popular theory of verbal expression to the test; and if that theory be correct, we count upon witnessing a mob of mute Miltons and Ba- cons, and speechless Chathams and Burkes, crowding and tramping into print. Dr. Roget, for a moderate fee, prescribes the verbal medicine which will relieve the congestion of their thoughts. All the tools and implements employed by all the poets and philosophers of England can be obtained at his shop. The idea being given, he guarantees in every case to supply the word. Dr. Sears, the American editor, has, it is true, deemed it his duty to retrench the exuberance of the original in the phraseology of slang, and has thus made it a useless book to a numerous and constantly increasing class of beaux-esprits, whose conceptions and passions would find no adequate vent in any dialect milder and cleanlier than that which derives its force and flavor from Billingsgate and Wap- ping; but for all ordinary purposes, either of copiousness or condensation, of elegance or energy, Dr. Rogets volume, as weeded by Dr. Sears, will be found to be amply sufficient. Indeed, if the apt use of words be a mechanical exercise, we cannot doubt that this immense mass of the raw material of expression will be rapidly manufactured into history, philoso- phy, poetry, and eloquence. Seriously, we consider this book as one of the best of a nu- merous class, whose aim is to secure the results without im- posing the tasks of labor, to arrive at ends by a dexterous dodging of means, to accelerate the tongue without acceler- ating the faculties. It is an outside remedy for an inward defect. In our opinion, the work mistakes the whole process by which living thought makes its way into living words, and it might be thoroughly mastered without conveying any real power or facility of expression. In saying this, we do not mean that the knack of mechanical rhetoric may not be more readily caught, and that fluency in the use of words may not be increased, by its study. But rhetoric is not a knack, and fluency is not expression. The crop of ready writers, of cor- rect writers, of elegant writers, of writers capable of using words in every mode but the right one, is already sufficiently large to meet the current demand for intellectual husk, chaff, 1854.1 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 139 and stubble. The tendency of the time to divorce the body of words from the soul of expression, and to shrivel up lan- guage into a mummy of thought, would seem to need the rein rather than the whip. The most cursory glance over much of the literature of the day, so called, will indicate the peculiar form of marasmus under which the life of language is in dan- ger of being slowly consumed. The most hopeless character- istic of this literature is its complacent exhibition of disfressing exceliences, its evident incapacity to rise into promising faults. The terms are such as are employed by the best writ- ers, the grammar is good, the morality excellent, the informa- tion accurate, the reflections sensible, yet the whole composi- tion neither contains nor can communicate intellectual or moral life; and a critical eulogium on its merits sounds like the certificate of a schoolmaster as to the negative virtues of his pupils. This fluent debility, which never stumbles into ideas nor stutters into passion, which calls its commonplace comprehensiveness, and styles its sedate languor repose, would, if put upon a short allowance of words, and compelled to pur- chase language at the expense of conquering obstacles, be likely to evince some spasms of genuine expression; but it is hardly reasonable to expect this verbal abstemiousness at a period when the whole wealth of the English tongue is placed at the disposal of the puniest whipsters of rhetoric, when the art of writing is avowedly taught on the principle of imi- tating the best models, when words are worked into the ears of the young in the hope that something will be found answering to them in their brains, and when Dr. Peter Mark Roget, who never happened on a verbal felicity or uttered a thought-executing word in the course of his long and useful life, rushes about, book in hand, to tempt unthink. ing and unimpassioned mediocrity into the delusion, that its disconnected glimpses of truths never fairly grasped, and its faint movements of embryo aspirations which never broke their shell, can be worded by his specifics into creative thought and passion. The bill of fare is indeed immense; what a pity that the absence of such insignificant elements as mouths, stomachs, and the appetite of hunger, may preclude the possi- bility of a feast! 140 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, Far, therefore, from being disposed to increase the vocabu- lary of such writers, and students of the art of writing, by books like this Thesaurus, we grudge them the words they have already pressed into their service. They have not earned the right to use their words by exercising any inward energy of thought on the things to which they relate. The first con- dition of true expression is an effort of mind, which restrains rather than stimulates fluency. The ease with which accred- ited maxims derived through the ear can be attached to words which have been decoyed through the same popu- lous thoroughfare, offers a desperate temptation to avoid the trouble equally of thinking and expressing. The ears write. Take, for example, the truths of morality and religion, which unrealizing minds and rapid pens have so hardened into tru- isms, that it has become a mark of genius to restore and revivify their original freshness and power. Now there are few creatures so pitiable as to need information on these top- ics, and few writers so stupid as to be unable to give it. What is required is not information, but inspiration. The maxims and doctrines are the commonest furniture of the commonest minds. The office, therefore, of the moralist is to impart, not moral truisms, but moral life. The office of the preacher is not to communicate the forms of religious doctrine, but to infuse the substance of religious vitality. All moraliz- ing and all preaching are ineffective, which do not thus strike through the understanding directly at the will, and purify and invigorate the sources of moral and religious action. But to do this, requires a face to face knowledge of the truths to be driven home, vivid inward experience poured out in living, breathing, palpitating words. The man who eliminates from these universal principles their divine significance and awful beauty, and prattles about them as truisms, soon becomes as dull, dry, and feeble as his topics, and his poverty of soul is just as evident when his diction is elegant and copious as when it is mean and pinched. The treasures of language, poured into such a mind, are like money dropped into a dead mans hand. What is really wanted, therefore, to facilitate the expres- sion of ideas, is something which will facilitate the concep 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 141 tion of ideas. What is really wanted to assist in literary composition, is a true philosophy of expression, founded on a knowledge of the nature and operations of the mind, and of the vital processes by which thought incarnates and drapes itself in words. Expression is a purely mental act, the work of the same blended force and insight, will and intelligence, that thinks. Its power and clearness answer to the power and clearness of the mind whence it proceeds. Its peculiarities cor- respond to the lieculiarities of the individual nature it repre- sents. Its perfection consists in identifying words with things, in bending language to the form, and pervading it with the vitality, of the thought it aims to arrest and embody. In those cases where thought transcends the sensuous capacities of language to utter its conceptions, the expression will still magically suggest the idea or mood it cannot directly convey, just as a more than earthly beauty looks out from the beauti- ful faces of Raphaels Madonnas, indicating the subtile passage into form of a soul and sentiment which no mere form could express. There are no more simple words than green, sweetness, and rest, yet what depth and intensity of sig- nificance shines in Chaucers green, ~. what a still ecstasy of religious bliss irradiates sweetness~~ as it drops from the pen of Jonathan Edwards, what celestial repose beams from rest as it lies on the page of Barrow! The moods seem to transcend the resources of language, yet they are expressed in common words, transfigured, sanctified, imparadised, by the spiritual vitality which streams through them. The words are among the cheapest articles in Dr. Rogets voluminous catalogue; but where is the cunning rhetorician who can ob- tain them there? Expression, then, whether direct or suggestive, is thought in the words or through the words, and not thought and the words. Thought implies two elements, the subject thinking and the object thought. When the process of thinking reaches that degree of intensity in which the object of thought is seen in clear vision, when the thinking mind comes into direct contact with the objective thing or idea it has felt after and found, the words which it then weaves into the visible gar- ment of its mingled emotion and conception are words sur 142 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, charged and flooded with life, words which are living things, endowed with the power, not only to communicate ideas, but to convey, as by spiritual conductors, the shock and thrill which attended their conception. Instead of being mere barren signs of abstract notions, they become media through which the life of one mind is radiated into other minds. They inspire as well as inform; invigorate as well as en- lighten. Such language is the spiritual body of the thinker, which never dies or grows old, but has a relative immortality on earth, and makes him a contemporary with all succeeding generations; for in such language not only are thoughts em- bodied, but words are erisouled. The fact, that expression like this is beyond the power of ordinary minds, does not affect its value as a guiding principle of rhetorical education. The difficulty is that the principle is not generally admitted. It is supposed that the development and the discipline of thought are to be conducted apart from the development and discipline of the power of expressing thought. Fill your head with words, and when you get an idea fit it to them, this is the current mode, prolific in fam- ished intellects and starveling expressions. Hence the pre- vailing lack of intellectual conscientiousness, or closeness of expression to the thing, a palpable interval between them being revealed at the first probe of analysis. Words and things having thus no vital principle of union, being, in fact, attached or tied together, they can be easily detached or un- bound, and the expression accordingly bears but the simili- tude of life. But it is honorable to human nature that men hate to write unless inspired to write. As soon as rhetoric becomes a me- chanical exercise it becomes a joyless drudgery, and drudgery ends in a mental disgust which impairs even the power to drudge. There is consequently a continual tendency to rebel against commonplace, even among those engaged in its service. But the passage from this intellectual apathy to intellectual character commonly lies through intellectual anarchy. The literature of facts connected by truisms, and the literature of things connected by principles, are divided by a wide, chaotic domain, appropriated to the literature of desperation; and gen 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 143 erally the first token that a writer has become disgusted with the truisms of the understanding is his ostentatious parade of the paradoxes of sensibility. He begins to rave the moment he ceases to repeat. Now the vital processes of thought and expression are pro- cesses of no single faculty or impulse, but of a whole nature, and mere sensibility, or mere understanding, or mere imagina- tion, or mere will, can never of itself produce the effects of that collected, concentrated, personal power, in which will, in- tellect, and sensibility are all consolidated in an individuality. The utmost strain and stir of the impulses can but mimic sfrength, when they are disconnected from character. Pas- sion, in the minds of the anarchists of letters, instead of being poured through the intellect to stimulate intelligence into power, frets and foams into mere passionateness. It does not condense the faculty in which it inheres, but diffuses the fac- ulty to which it coheres. It makes especial claim to force; but the force of simple sensibility is a pretentious force, evincing no general might of nature, no innate, original, self-cenfred energy. It blusters furiously about its personal vigor, and lays a bullying emphasis on the ~ but its self-assertion is with- out self-poise or self-might. The grand object of its tempestu- ous conceit is to make a little nature, split into fragmentary faculties and impulses, and disporting a convulsive feebleness in a slushy expansiveness of language, look like a great na- ture, stirred by strong passions, illumined by positive ideas, and directed to definite ends. And it must be admitted that, so far as the public is concerned, it often succeeds in the de- ception. Commonplace, though crazed into strange shapes by the delirium tremens of sensibility, and uttering itself in strange shrieks and screams, is essentially commonplace still; but it often passes for the frenzy and up~vard, rocket-like rush of impassioned imagination. The writer, therefore, who is enabled, by a felicitous deformity of nature, to indulge in it, contrives to make many sensible people guilty of the blasphe- my of calling him a genius; and if he have the knack of rhyming, and can set to music his agonies of weakness and ecstasies of imbecility, he is puffed as a great poet, superior to all the restraints of artistic law, and is allowed to huddle 144 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, together appetite and aspiration, earth and heaven, man and God, in a truculent fashion peculiarly his own. The misuse of words in this literature of ungoverned or un- governable sensibility has become so general as to threaten the validity of all definitions. The connection between sign and thing signified has been so severed, that it resembles the logic of that eminent master of argumentation, of whom it was said, that his premises might be afflicted with the con- fluent small-pox without his conclusion being in any danger of catching it. Objects are distorted, relations disturbed, language put upon the rack to torment it into intensity, and the whole composition seems, like Tennysons organ, to be groaning for power, yet the result both of the mental and verbal bombast is simply a feverish feebleness, equally infect- ing thought and style. Big and passionate as are the words, and terrible as has been their execution in competent hands, they resolutely refuse to do the work of dunces and maniacs. The spirits are called, but they decline to come. Yet this resounding emptiness of diction is not without popularity and influence, though its popularity has no deep roots and its influence is shallow. Its superficial effectiveness is indicated, not more by the success of the passionate men who fall naturally into it, than by the success of the shrewd men who coldly imitate it. Thus Sheridan, who of all ora- tors had the least sensibility and the most wit and cunning, adopted in many of his speeches a style as bloated as his own face, full of fustian deliberately manufactured, and rant which betrays the most painful elaboration. Our own legis- lative eloquence is singularly rich in speeches whose diction is a happy compound of politic wrath and flimsy fancies, glowing with rage worthy of Counsellor Phillipss philippics, and spangled with flowers that might have been gathered in the garden of Mr. Herveys Meditations. But we should do great injustice to these orators if we supposed them as foolish as they try to make themselves appear in their elo- quence; and it is safe to impute more than ordinary reptile sagacity, and more than ordinary skill in party management, to those politicians who indulge in more than ordinary non- sense in their declamations. The incapacity to feel, which 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 145 their bombast evinces, proves they are in no danger of being whirled into imprudences by the mad emotions they affect. Such oratory, however, has a brassy taint and ring inexpressi- bly distasteful both to the physical and intellectual sense, and its deliberate hypocrisy of feeling is a sure sign of profligacy of mind. It is only, however, when sensibility is genuine and pre- dominant, that it produces that anarchy of the intellect in which the literature of desperation, as contrasted with the lit- erature of inspiration, has its source. The chief characteristic of this literature is absence of restraint. Its law is lawless- ness. It is developed according to no interior principle of growth; it adapts itself to no exterior principle of art. In view of this, it is somewhat singular that so large a portion of its products should be characterized by such essential medioc- rity, since it might be supposed that a common nature, disor- dered by passion, and unrestrained by law, with a brain made irritable, if not sensitive, by internal rage, would exhibit some hysteric bursts of genius. But a sharp inspection reveals, in a majority of cases, that it is the old commonplace galvan- ized. Its heat is not that of fire, but of hot water, and no fusing power is perceptible in its weltering expanse. We are reluc- tantly compelled to admit that chaos cannot create, and that a great display of fussiness may be consistent with a lament- able lack of force. Even in those writers in whom this sensibility is connected with some genius, and the elements of whose minds exhibit marks of spontaneous power, we are continually impressed with the impotence of anarchy to create, or combine, or por- tray. They never present the thing itself about which they rave, but only their feelings about the thing. They project into nature and life the same confusion of objects and rela- tions which exists in their own minds, and stir without satis- fying. That misrepresentation is a mental as well as moral offence, and that no intellect is sound unless it be conscien- tiously close to the truth of things in perception and expression, are maxims which they scorn to allow as checks on their free- dom of impulse. But with all their bluster, they cannot con- VOL. Lxxix.No. 164. 13 146 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, ceal the limitation of their natures in the impudence of their claims. And this brings us to the consideration of words as media for the emission and transpiration of character, as expres- sions, not simply of thoughts or emotions, but of natures, as modes by which literature is pervaded with vitality and peopled with men, so that a criticism on styles is resolved in- to an exposition of persons. This function of language seems to us its noblest, because its most honest function. Words, to be sure, never really lie, though appearances are sometimes strongly against them. The truth leaks out from the most hypocritical sentences; and we have repeatedly read books, manufactured on Dr. Rogets pattern, in which the words seemed to feel degraded by the drudgery they were engaged in, to a practised ear audibly grumbled at being turned from nimble servitors into stupid slaves, and every moment ea- gerly gave in evidence against their taskmasters. Again, it is undoubtedly true, that a good portion of the sensuality, vulgar- ity, misanthropy, malignity, and littleness of soul, which take a literary form, is communicated in the phrases and images of their opposites, but communicated almost as effectively as if the words belonged to that varying class of terms which no young lady ought to read. Indeed, if there be any animating life behind or within a composition, that peculiar life, and no other, will escape into the consciousness of the reader, without regard to the nature of the opinions or the language in which they are clothed. A satanic drop in the blood makes a cler- gyman preach diabolism from scriptural texts, and a philan- thropist inculcate misanthropy from the rostrum of reform. It is all love in words, all hatred in spirit; and the Devil is content. An oversight of this obvious principle converts crit- icism into a mere gibberish. Take, for instance, such writers as P. J. Bailey and Alexander Smith, two of the most hopeful desperadoes of young literature, quick in apprehension, fer- tile in fancy, ravenous in impulse, and whose sad baggage of a muse has been loudly hailed as the true celestial maiden on the sole evidence of her robes. Doubtless, through the crack in their heads split by passion, we have a view of quite a splendid anarchy of faculties and sensibilities, doubtless 1854.] TIlE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 147 they are adorned with some of the most gorgeous trappings of poetry, but still they are not essentially poets. They give us, not poetry, but a poetic debauch. They evince an appe- tite for the ideal, rather than a sentiment for it, and whether it pleases them to soar into heaven or dive into hell, whether they take us among saints or sinners, a predominant animal- ism, penetrating every shining phrase and image, is the im- pression they stamp upon the mind. The thing does not taste well in the mouth, gives no ideal pleasure or satisfaction; and, for our own part, we confess a preference for Dante, Mil- ton, and Goethe on the same themes, though we cheerfully admit their inferiority in intellectual topsy-turviness and the blaze of words. Were the powers and passions of these des- perate gentlemen harmonized into unity, we should see at once how moderate is the real size and weight of natures, which appear of such astounding dimensions and force in their shattered state. By this compression, however, they might dwindle into poets, poets of the second class, it is true, but still poets, which they are altogether too splendid and sublime to be at present. If the latent nature of a writer thus struggles through his words, and hypocrisy, conscious or unconscious, in his mode of writing, fails to conceal his disposition, if mental anarchy, though wielding all the external resources of language, can still express only itself, there would seem to be very strong inducements in literature for authors to be honest. Many a poor wight, who struts in the purple and fine linen of verbiage, a target for criticism, would be an interesting object if he were content with the homely suits which exactly fit his concep- tions. Every writer whose aim is not to appear, but to be, and who directs his powers to the expression of what he really is, succeeds, at least, in making himself readable; for such a writer urges no opinions which have not been domesticated in his own understanding, testifies to no facts which are not realities to his own consciousness, and uses no words which he has not earned the right to use by testing their conformity to his own impressions or insight. And it is curious how flexible language becomes when a writers vocabulary is thus limited by his intellectual character, and with what ease a few 148 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, words do the whole business of expression. A presiding personality, indeed, acts as a magnet; all related words come fripping to it, as if eager and glad to leave their limbo of gen- erality and form part of a new organism, to feel through their shrunken veins the flow and throb of fresh, warm blood, and to partake in the rapture of individual existence. Then lan- guage really becomes alive, and thus, too, books attain the power to live. All others, after a few convulsive efforts, die and are forgotten, or are known only to the antiquary who prowls among the cemeteries of letters, reading inscriptions on tombstones. We do not, of course, mean to assert that all individuali- ties that take a literary form become conspicuous in becoming genuine. The compositions which embody poverty and lit- tleness of individual being must exist in the obscurity in which they were born, but they still exist. The benevolent literary historian who visits them in their dingy paper hovels always finds them in a wretched condition, but always finds them alive. Perhaps the lowest form of what we call intellectual character is visible in the pamphlets of those political hacks, who, from Walpoles time to that of Lord Chatham, were employed by booksellers and statesmen to enlighten the Brit- ish public on national affairs, in other words, to do the dirty work of politics. These men undoubtedly exhibit singular littleness of nature, and singular feebleness of vitality; but still their minds act as units, and every sentence is steeped in the meanness and malevolence in which their whole life seems to have been absorbed. We are afraid that a dispassionate criticism must give them the appellation of ragamuffins and sneaks; but yet it is due to them to say that they are not ashamed of their characters, whether they were natural from their cradles, or acquired in the garrets of Osborne and Mist. They are most assuredly stupid, very stupid, but then their stupidity is a positive, and not a negative quality. Through- out their writings, we observe quite a laudable persistence in kind and fidelity to type, without any eccentric rhetorical deviations into brilliancy or decency. As we read them, even at this late day, their natures appear to ooze or dribble out in the vapid emphasis of every italicized word, in the sly venom 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 149 of every insinuated scandal, in the limping movement of every dismal witticism, in the lowness of ail the lying statements, in the impotence of all the toothless sarcasms, in the vagabond disorder of all the rags of rhetoric. But then it is pleasant occasionally to be in the company of dunces who are so com- placent in their duncery, who are stirred by no fretful aspira- tion to be fine writers, who are so thoroughly content with the puddie in which they llve, and who, as true artists of the little and the low, would disdain to borrow the snapping terseness of Popes verse, or the flowing richness of Bolingbrokes prose, or the manner of any other eminent hands and persons of honor, in order to give their lean thoughts and reptile dispo- sitions a more splendid verbal raiment than the physiognom- ical and characteristic one supplied from their own wardrobes. These writers, too, are by far the most honest of their kind. Minds as small and natures as mean as theirs have since ad- dressed themselves to similar tasks without displaying similar frankness. From the time of Junius and Burke, the tomtits of English politics have sported the beaks and talons, and arrayed themselves in the plumage, of the vultures and the eagles. The feeblest rancor aspires to wear the aspect of rav- enous malignity, and the weakest pugnacity would tower and scream in the regions of imaginative passion. The next form of intellectual character, whose verbal ex- pression rewards analysis, is found in those men who deal with obvious facts and principles, but really grasp and handle them. Their sense is common sense, but common sense as character, not as hearsay. All their notions are organized into abilities and written out in their lives; truisms from their lips have the effect of original perceptions; and old saws and proverbs, worn to shreds by constant repetition, startle the ear like brilliant fancies, when uttered by men whose dispositions they have formed and whose actions they have guided. Such persons are commonly narrow and bigoted, and profess great contempt for everything that lies beyond the range of their vision. They delight, indeed, to call their opinions views, in order, it would seem, to suggest the test of sight to which they have been subjected; and they give them additional em- phasis by putting them in the possessive case. They are not 13* 150 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, general views, but my views. These opinions have not been argued into their heads, and history and experience afford no instance of their having been ever argued out of them. Solidified as they are into muscle and bone, their hard tenacity of hold, impregnable to the syllogism, would almost resist the axe or the battering-ram. To change the views of such minds is a task resembling the boring of tunnels or blasting of rocks. Their phraseology, when its organic pith and substance are uncorrupted by the schoolmaster, is, of course, singularly close, compact, and vital, indicating an inte- rior perception of, and familiar acquaintance with, the matters about which they talk. In English literature, these thinkers and rhetoricians of humble life are contemptuously referred to as the vulgar, and young students are pathetically adjured not to catch the infection of their speech; but it seems to us that they hint the true philosophy of rhetoric better than Dr. Campbell directly teaches it, for their words are always things, and the aim of the loftiest creative thinker is, in ex- pression, to give solidity to spiritual facts. Even in the use of tropes they evince a more subtile knowledge of the vital pro- cesses of figurative expression than most of the poetasters who sniff at them. That horse of yours, said a friend of ours to a farmer, is very handsome. Yes, was the drawling reply, but he is as slow as cold molasses. We doubt if an analyst could find, out of the great poets, a better example than this on which to exercise his skill in giving the genesis of an imaginative analogy. The idea, as Bacon would say, is thoroughly immersed in matter. The authors who have studied the modes of thinking and expression characteristic of the vulgar, have exercised the widest influence; for in that school they learned to think in the concrete, and to give to thoughts the form and significance of visible realities. The reserved power always underlying the sparse speech of ordi- nary men, imparts tenfold meaning and force to their words and images. Sir Edward Coke, a man of prodigious ability and acquirement, but still essentially commonplace in his in- tellect and prejudices, was once goaded by rage and hatred into an imagination in which his whole massive nature seemed to emit itself in a Titanic stutter of passion. We refer, of course, 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 151 to his calling Sir Walter Raleigh a spider of hell, an im- age in which loathing appeared to become executive, and palpably to smite its object on the cheek. It was from the fact that imagination was so small an element in his gen- eral power, and required the utmost depth of passion to be pushed into prominence, that it acted so like a bolt when it did flame fiercely out. The image may be a small matter in itself, but it becomes tremendous when we see the whole roused might of Sir Edward Coke glare terribly through it. The spider, indeed, appears to be a favorite symbol of ordinary fancies to express spite. Thus Henry Fox, in a hot attack on Lord Chancellor Hardwicke, who was supposed to have no desire to reform the many abuses of his office, exclaimed: Touch but a cobweb in Westminster Hall, and the old spider of the Law is out upon you, with all his vermin at his heels. This image makes the flesh creep. Common sense, as embodied in character, has a downright directness of expression often offensively dogmatic, though the dogmatism is not without justification in the evident certain- ty the iron clutch of its hold upon things. But in men of coarse strength of nature, endowed with broad perceptions on low levels of thought, this practical sagacity is apt to wax into conceit with itself, to be developed in connection with pride and self-will, and gradually to degenerate into a bearish arrogance of self-assertion, in which a good portion of its original clearness of view is obscured. The moment this divorce between force and insight occurs, will is pampered at the expense of understanding, and the result is a wilfulness, whose expression is marked by an overbearing dogmatism, hateful to all who delight in the dominion of reason over ani- mal vigor and effrontery. Men of this stamp often preserve more than an ordinary degree of intellect, but it is a tool to be used, not a torch to guide. Both in literature and in life, they are the swashbucklers, bullies, and bravos of speech, unscrupulous, tyrannical, wrong-headed, ambitious to conquer rather than anxious to convince, and indisposed, indeed, to give any reasons for saying or doing a thing, so long as they can bid their will avouch it. They are often very effective as writers, orators, statesmen, theologians, from their warlike 152 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, attitude and tactics, using words as bullets, throwing off statements and arguments like successive discharges of can- non, and thoroughly understanding the art of rapidly concen- trating the heaviest mass of invective on the weakest point of resistance. Lord Chancellor Thurlow is a shining example of the method in which opponents may be cowed or scattered by abuse, and offices of trust and honor taken by assault. By sheer strength of imperious, indomitable impudence, he pushed himself into high station, and, what is more, did what he pleased after he attained it. He was not content to rule; he was unhappy unless he could domineer. During the time that he hung, like a low, black cloud, over the House of Lords, the proudest peers were abashed by the scowl of his shaggy brow, the ominous growl of his voice, like thunder heard remote, and the impending lightnings which seemed ready to dart from his eyes at the slightest touch of provoca- tion. His means of success were immense confidence in him- self, immense assumed contempt for others, and the favor of his Most Wilful Majesty, George III., who was attracted to him by a kindred spirit. He would have his own way. He unhesitatingly plotted against administrations of which he was himself a member, hectored statesmen of his own party, gave judgments in chancery without condescending to state reasons for them, and fairly bullied his contemporaries into the opinion that he was a great statesman and a great jurist. There was a fascination in his towering effrontery. George III. and his queen were eminently moral people, yet Thurlow was a favorite of both, though he openly defied moral restraints. When Chancellor, he was keeper of the Kings conscience and of a mistress, paraded his illegitimate children in public, and swore more terribly than ever did our army in Flanders. At one time, when the King was threatened with insanity, and was palpably incompetent to understand the acts which the Chancellor carried to him for his approval, Thurlow be- came impatient at the demands of his Majesty to have their purport explained to him. It s all nonsense, said the gruff Chancellor, to try to make your Majesty understand them, and you had better consent to them at once. He sometimes employed Mr. Justice IBuller, a judge in every 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 153 respect his superior, to sit for him in the Court of Chancery, and praised his decisions publicly; but on its being said to him that it was remarkable that a Common Law judge should be so familiar with Equity, Thurlow exclaimed, Equity! he knows no more of it than a horse; but he dis. poses somehow of the cases, and I seldom hear of them again.~~ When Mr. Pitts death was announced to him, he remarked, A good hand at turning a period! This insolent as- sumption of superiority is stamped on all his speeches, public and private; and it must be admitted that he had completely mastered the art of individualizing language, and making words perform the office of blows and stabs. There are many people who cannot recognize the presence of a powerful personality, except it be thus exhibited in sali- ent personal traits. But personal force, in its healthy devel- opment, purifies itself from obfrusive individualities in propor- tion to the singleness and vigor of its aim and purpose, and in works of simple statement and argumentation we often feel the presence of character as a moving power, when it falls to be visible in obsfructive singularities. It is character that states and reasons, though character broadened into under- standing, and seemingly as impersonal as the facts and prin- ciples it grasps and expounds. Dr. Samuel Clarke, John Stuart Mill, Sir William Hamilton, and Daniel Webster, are instances in point. In the language of these men we observe an austere conscientiousness of phrase, as if every word had been severely tested and kept subordinate to the thought which it is used to convey. The sober and solid tramp of their style reflects the movement of intellects that palpably re- spect the relations and dimensions of things, and to which ex- aggeration would be immorality. We should hesitate to call them creative thinkers, and equally to place them in point of greatness below any but creative thinkers of the first class. It is indeed with a sigh of regret, that a critic who has studied Sir William Hamilton is compelled to station him not even abreast of Hobbes and Locke. In passing from intellectual character of this testing and reasoning, but not especially originating, species to creative power, we do not at first ascend. Natures comparatively lit- 154 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, tie often exhibit faculties which are great in kind, though lim- ited in degree, and exhibit them also as centred in character. In their expression there is none of the hardness which dis- tinguishes the tough vitality and vigor of men in whom un- derstanding predominates. The little there is in them melts, flows, fuses, shines. They can create and combine, though their creations and combinations be petty and of small ac- count; and they leave the permanent print of their natures in those sly corners and crevices of the literature of a language, which the omnivorous general reader delights to explore. Colley Cibber, for instance, is a small creature enough, but still an indissoluble unit and representative of flippant charac- ter, endowed with a delightful little imagination exactly an- swering to the demands of his little nature, and fertile in little creations and bright and shallow gossip, always meaning well and never meaning much. Horace Walpole, a higher example of the same flippancy, built up, through an assimila- tion of all the frippery of literature and all the frippery of fashionable life, a character perfect in its kind, and within its sphere undoubtedly creative. The affectation of his style has its roots in the affectation of his nature, and it is an admira- ble style for him. The sarcastic pertness of his diction, in which wit and observation tend to crystallize in words, and become brittle as they grow sparkling, shows a nature not so fluid as Cibbers, and acting more by starts and flings of fan- ciful inspiration. His wit is unmistakably original, some- times in kind. An old and pious lady, into whose hands some of Lord Rochesters licentious letters came, burned them, for which, Walpole petulantly says, she is now burning in heaven. Occasionally a single word does the work of a paragraph. Lady ,~ he remarks in one of his letters, looks ghastly and going. Geniality is a finishing grace to intellectual character, and we especially feel its sweetness in natures of great reach and depth; but in minds whose endowments are by no means extraordinary, it sometimes amounts to a weakness. Leigh Hunt is an example of what we should call a fondling char- acter, and a great master of its verbal expression. Language in his hands is the most flexible of instruments to convey 1854.] THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 155 dainty and pleasant sensations. His self-content is so great, that it flows out in content with all the world. He fondles everything and everybody. Shakespeare, Spenser, Shelley, Coleridge, he dandles on his knee, as if they were babies, paws them, and would fill their dear little mouths with su- gared epithets of eulogy. This he seems to think is genial criticism. Even divine things cannot escape his all-tolerating kindliness; for, whatever sects and churches may say, he knows that the world was made after the image of Leigh Hunt. The Deity with him is not so much Infinite Goodness as infinite good-nature, and we believe he has lately published a devotional book to inculcate that doctrine. He talks very cosily about Dante, and appeals to the readers whom he con- ducts through the Inferno, if they really can believe that such fine fellows as they there behold in torments ought to be treated in that way. Throughout his writings, indeed, he seems to think that the wax taper, which he holds so jauntily, can light up all the gloom and darkness of the moral universe. This foppery is of a different kind from Walpoles, and is much more delightful, but it is still foppery, though the fop- pery of philanthropy. We have, doubtless, said more than enough respecting words as media for the transpiration of character, and it would be a waste of illustration to trace the working of the principle through other forms of personality, such as the sen- timental, the satanic, the eccentric, the religious, and the he- roic. In all of these, however, language is moulded into the organic body of thought, and the organisms stand out in liter- ature with the distinctness and the diversity of organic forms in nature. The words are veined, and full of the lifeblood of the creative individualities projected into them with unspar- ing energy. In criticizing such works we soon discover that what we at first call faults of style are in reality faults of character. But such individualities are more or less narrow and peculiar; and it is only when we arrive at those rare na- tures, with sensibillty, reason, fancy, wit, humor, imagination, all included in the operations of one mighty, spiritual force, which we feel to be greater than one or all of the faculties and passions, that we compass the full meaning of intellectual char- 156 THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. [July, acter in apprehending its highest form. Such men Shake- speare, for example appear to be impersonal simply because their personality is so broad. They are impersonal relatively, not positively. Capable of discerning, interpreting, repre- senting, all actual and possible peculiarities of human char- acter, they seem to have few peculiarities of their own. They have no leading idea, because they have so many ideas; no master passion, because they have so many passions; no hob- by, great or little, sublime or mean, because they possess a vital conception of relations, as well as a vital conception of things and persons. iBut they never really pass, as creative minds, beyond the limits of their characters; for it is always men that create, not some vagrant faculty of men. It is sometimes doubted if the style of such writers can be taken as the measure of their power and variety of power. Now there is in the smallest individual intelligence an abstract possibility which is never realized in any mode of expression while he is in the body, and this limitation is especially felt when we read the works of the greatest individualized intelli- gences. So far, and only so far, are we inclined to concede that the great masters and creators of language find in words but a partial expression of their natures. What is directly conveyed in words and images, according to their literal inter- pretation, is, of course, inadequate to fix and embody a mind like Shakespeares; but then the marvel of Shakespeares dic- tion is its immense suggestiveness, his power of radiating through new verbal combinations or through single expres- sions a life and meaning which they do not retain in their re- moval to dictionaries. When the thought is so subtile, or the emotion so evanescent, or the imagination so remote, that it cannot be flashed upon the inward eye, it is hinted to the inward ear by some exquisite variation of tone. These irra- diations and melodies of thought and feeling are seen and heard only by those who think into the words, but they are nevertheless there, whether perceived or not. An American essayist on Shakespeare, Mr. Emerson, in speaking of the im- possibility of acting or reciting his plays, refers to this magi cal suggestiveness in a sentence almost as remarkable as the thing it describes. The recitation, he says, begins: one 1854.J THE USE AND MISUSE OF WORDS. 157 golden word leaps out immortal from all this painted pedan- try, and sweetly torments us with invitations to its own inacces- sible homes! He who has not felt this witchery in Shake- speares style has never read him. He may have looked at the words, but has never looked into them. We have been able, in these hasty observations on the use and misuse of words, to touch upon only a few topics con- nected with our theme. There are many others that would repay investigation, which we have hardly named, such as the intimate connection between clearness and freshness of ex- pression, the sources of the pleasure we take in style apart from the importance of the matter it conveys, the difference between an authors expressing an idea to himself and express- ing it to others, the power of words, as wielded by a man of genius, to create or evoke in another mind the thought or emotion they embody, the peculiar vitality and the amaz- ing mystical significance of language when used as the organ for expressing the phenomena of rapture and ecstasy, and the interior laws which regulate the construction and move- ment of style, according as the object is to narrate, describe, reason, or invent. But we have not space at present to con- sider these topics with the attention they deserve. In the somewhat extended remarks into which we have been pro- voked by the publication of Dr. Rogets Thesaurus, we have confined ourselves to a few obvious principles, and have labored to show the hopelessness of all attempts to make lan- guage really express any thing finer, deeper, higher, or more forcible, than what lives in the mind and character of the writ- er who uses it. Especially in all that relates to strength of diction, we think it will be found that the utmost affluence in energetic terms will, of itself, fail to impress on style any vital energy of soul; for this energy, whether it work like lightning or like light, whether it smite and blast, or illumine and invig- orate, ever comes from the presence of the man in the words. VOL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 14 158 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, ART. VIII. 1. Voyage en Chine et dans les Mers et Archi- pels de cet Empire pendant les Ann6es 1847, 1848, 1849, 1850. Par M. JURIEN DR LA GRAVIIRE, Capitaine com- mandant la corvette La Bayonnaise, exp6di6e par le Gou.. vernement fran~ais dans ces parages. Avec une belle carte grav~e sur acier. Paris: Charpentier, Libraire-6diteur. 1853. 2 vols. 8vo. 2. History of the Insurrection in China; with Notices of the Christianity, Creed, and Proclamations of the Insurgents. By MM. CALLERY and YVAN. Translated from the French, with a Supplementary Chapter, narrating the most recent Events, by JOHN OXENFORD. With a Fac-simile of a Chinese Map of the Course of the Insurrection, and a Por- trait of Ti~n-ti~, its Chief. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1853. 24mo. pp. 301. AT a period of profound and universal peace, when the gates of Janus, over all the face of the world, were for the mo- ment closed, the rude bruit of clashing arms has reached our ears from two mighty continents; and in either case we find, singularly enough, that it is from the two great Tartar empires in extent, in population, and as to their respective standards of civilization, paralleled only by each other that these sounds proceed. The more immediate interests in- volved in the Russian troubles have not diverted our atten- tion from the anomalous and mysterious struggle going on in China. To give a passing glance at the physical and moral condition of the Chinese people, to point out the footprints of the messengers of the Gospel among them, and to exhibit, so far as is permitted us by the meagre reports that from time to time have reached this country, the origin, progress, and present aspect of the insurrection, will be the object of this paper. For two centuries the Ta-tsing dynasty has continued to rule over a territory as~ large as that of all Christian Europe, with a population nearly eighteen times more numerous than that of the United States. The Mant-chou race, from which was sprung Tae-tsung-wan-hang-te, the first of that line who

158 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, ART. VIII. 1. Voyage en Chine et dans les Mers et Archi- pels de cet Empire pendant les Ann6es 1847, 1848, 1849, 1850. Par M. JURIEN DR LA GRAVIIRE, Capitaine com- mandant la corvette La Bayonnaise, exp6di6e par le Gou.. vernement fran~ais dans ces parages. Avec une belle carte grav~e sur acier. Paris: Charpentier, Libraire-6diteur. 1853. 2 vols. 8vo. 2. History of the Insurrection in China; with Notices of the Christianity, Creed, and Proclamations of the Insurgents. By MM. CALLERY and YVAN. Translated from the French, with a Supplementary Chapter, narrating the most recent Events, by JOHN OXENFORD. With a Fac-simile of a Chinese Map of the Course of the Insurrection, and a Por- trait of Ti~n-ti~, its Chief. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1853. 24mo. pp. 301. AT a period of profound and universal peace, when the gates of Janus, over all the face of the world, were for the mo- ment closed, the rude bruit of clashing arms has reached our ears from two mighty continents; and in either case we find, singularly enough, that it is from the two great Tartar empires in extent, in population, and as to their respective standards of civilization, paralleled only by each other that these sounds proceed. The more immediate interests in- volved in the Russian troubles have not diverted our atten- tion from the anomalous and mysterious struggle going on in China. To give a passing glance at the physical and moral condition of the Chinese people, to point out the footprints of the messengers of the Gospel among them, and to exhibit, so far as is permitted us by the meagre reports that from time to time have reached this country, the origin, progress, and present aspect of the insurrection, will be the object of this paper. For two centuries the Ta-tsing dynasty has continued to rule over a territory as~ large as that of all Christian Europe, with a population nearly eighteen times more numerous than that of the United States. The Mant-chou race, from which was sprung Tae-tsung-wan-hang-te, the first of that line who 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 159 sat upon the imperial throne, is said by Gutzlaff to have been a Tongoosian tribe, whose origin is traced by their local fab- ulists to a divine source in the northern parts of Korea. In that region, say they, there once dwelt three heavenly maid- ens. Whilst bathing one day in the transparent waters of the Lake of Balkhori, a magpie let fall a red fruit upon the gar- ments of the fairest of the three. Woman-like, she was tempted, and she ate. The result was the birth of a son, whose appearance was signalized by preternatural prodigies. The mother soon after died. The miraculous child, embark- ing in a small boat, infrusted himself to the guidance of the current of the stream, which in due season bore him to the camps of a warlike people, by whom he was chosen ruler, as- suming on this occasion the title of Mant-chou. The concep- tion by a virgin, the infant voyager upon the river, may suggest to the reader some analogy with similar events in Biblical history; but such coincidences are of frequent occur- rence in pagan tradition. During many years, this tribe continued to increase in pow- er and resources, till at last it became a formidable opponent to the government of China, then swayed by the failing hands of the dynasty of Ming. After repeated and bloody battles with this nation, the Mant-chous had carried their victorious arms far into their enemys country, when, in 1636, so power- ful did their leader deem them, that he caused himself to be proclaimed Emperor of China, adopting for his dynastic name Ta-tsing, or Great Purity. In Chinese history, he is known under the title of Tae-tsung. Before proceeding with our sketch of the course of this usurpation, a brief notice of that rival line, which now, after an abeyance of two centuries, is so successfully maintaining its claims to the disputed throne, may not be out of place. To enumerate the barbarous titles of the various sovereigns who, according to Chinese historians, have ruled that empire since the birth of time, would be a useless task. Nor is it within the province of this paper even to give an historical notice of the different dynasties which, as it may be admit- ted, have succeeded to each other in rapid order within the last fotir thousand years. It will suffice to point out how 160 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, regular and frequent, in Chinese annals, is the dethrone- ment, not merely of individual princes, but of dynasties them- selves; and all this without any radical change in the man- ner of governing or in the constitution (so to speak) of the state. The ilca dynasty the earliest to which we attach any regard (B. C. 2207 1767) was overturned by one Tang, a successful soldier, who founded the Shang dynasty (B. C. 17661122). His posterity, degenerating from the stern vir- tues of the founder of their glory, were hurled from the throne by the martial Woo-wang. The Chow dynasty (B. C. 1122 249) ensued; to which again, by force of arms, succeeded that of Tsin (B. C. 249 206). A general revolt soon drove this bad family from the imperial seats; and that of Han (B. C. 202A. ID. 220) ruled in its stead. Then followed the dy- nasties of Tsin (A. D. 264420); of Sung (A. D. 420479); of Tse (A. D. 480502); of Leang (A. D. 502537); of Chin (A. D. 557 589); of Suy (A. P. 590 618); of Tang (A. D. 619 907); those of the Woo-tae, or Five Generations (A. ID. 907 959); and of Sung (A. ID. 960 1279). The famous Kublai Khan a sovereign whose reputation is justly paral- leled only by that of the mightiest monarchs the world has ever known at this period assumed the reins of power, and established a Mongol-Tartar line of kings, who, under the name of the Yuen dynasty, governed China ninety-one years. In their turn, his successors proved false to the promises held out by the genius and power of their ancestor, and in 1368 were expelled by a revolution caused by their own insolence and oppression. The celebrated Ming dynasty, whose victo- rious founder was Choo-yuen-chang, the son of an obscure peasant, possessed itself of the imperial throne, which it held for two hundred and seventy-six years (A. ID. 13681644). The reign of this line was mild, beneficent, and paternal; and probably nothing less than a powerful foreign foe could have sufficed to procure its downfall, since the popular attachment to their sovereigns was great enough to prevent any internal revolution. But this foreign foe was present at the gates of the empire, in shape of the Mant-chon Tartars, who, as we have already mentioned, after a long and devastating warfare, 1854.] THE CHINESE REBj~LLI0N. 161 managed to bring about the destruction of the imperial fain.. ily and the downfall of the throne. Since that period, the line of Ta-tsing has continued to reign. The hand of the Mant-chou kings lay not lightly upon the loins of their new subjects; and, for a long period, rebellions against their rule were of constant occurrence. Particularly odious to the Chinese people was one of the earliest Mant- chou edicts, by which they were called upon to shave their heads and adopt the Tartar garb. But long years of endur- ance have brought them to a general acquiescence even in this obnoxious custom; though the present condition of the empire demonstrates clearly enough that the spirit of resist- ance was not dead, but only sleeping, that though the for- eign yoke was borne uncomplainingly, its burden was none the less felt. The present population of China, as may well be supposed, bears abundant evidence of the diverse nature of the races that have at various periods occupied its soil. Probably the aboricrinal stock is that of the Miautsze, or Children of the b Earth, who inhabit the mountain tracts of the Nan-ling and Mei-ling, in great independence of the imperial rule. Little is known about this people, though enough to show them to be of essentially different origin from the Chinese proper. They are rude and hardy, and, though of smaller stature, of more warlike disposition than their peaceful neighbors, who constitute indeed by far the largest portion of the nation. It is scarcely worth while here to endeavor to point out the rea- sons that induce us to believe the Miautsze to have been the primeval occupants of China. But it is certain that so far back as we can trace their history we find them occupying the same position that they do now, dwellers in mountain fast- nesses, impatient of subjugation, resolutely disowning the im- perial yoke. Were they of Chinese origin, the descendants of the leaders in some unsuccessful conspiracy or rebellion, who had fled into these wilds from the terrors of the law, their appearance would indicate the fact. For, as M. de la Gravi~re remarks, the Mongol type does not readily lose itself in foreign alliances. In emigration, in distant lands, in the streets of New York or on the plantations of Cuba, the Chi.. 14 162 TIlE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, nese preserve their physiognomy, their garb, their morals, their manners. The offspring of a mixed marriage exhibits all the features of the Chinese parent, such as the peculiar hue of the skin, the oblique form of the eye, and the protrusion of the bones of the face. The blood, of the sons of Han passes through that of other races, like the river Rhone through Lake Leman, scarcely affected by the union. Their appearance is thus described by Mr. Williams The physical traits of the Chinese race may be described as being between the light and agile Hindu, and the muscular, fleshy European; their form is well-built and symmetrical. Their color is a brunette or sickly white, rather approaching to a yellowish tint than a florid, but this yellow hue has been much exaggerated; in the south they are swarthy but not black, never becoming as dark even as the Portuguese whose fifth or sixth ancestors dwelt upon the Tagus. It is almost unnecessary to add, that the shades of complexion differ very much according to the latitude, and degree of exposure to the weather, especially in the female sex. The hair of the head is lank, black, coarse, and glossy; beard always black, thin, and deficient; no whis- kers; and very little hair on the body. Eyes invariably black, and apparently oblique; this is owing to the slight degree in which the inner angles of the eyelids open, the internal canthi being more acute than in western races, and not allowing the whole iris to be seen; this pecu- li~rity in the eye distinguishes the eastern races of Asia from all other families of man. The hair and eyes being always black, a European with blue eyes and light hair appears very strange to them; and one reason given by the people of Canton, for having called foreigners fan kwei, or foreign devils, is, that they had deep sunken blue eyes, and red hair like demons. The cheek-bones are high, and the outline of the face remarkably round.. The nose is rather small, much depressed, and nearly even with the face at the root, and wide at the extremity; there is, however, considerable difference in this respect, but no aquiline noses are seen. Lips thicker than among Europeans, but not at all approaching those of the negro. The hands are small, and the lower limbs better propor- tioned than among any other Asiatics. The height is about the same as that of Europeans, and a thousand men taken as they come in the streets of Canton, will probably equal in stature and weight the same number in IRome or New Orleans; their muscular power would proba- bly be less. In size, the women are disproportionately small, when compared THE CHINESE REBELLION. 163 1854.] with European females; and in the eyes of those accustomed to the European style of beauty, the Chinese women possess little, the broad upper face, low nose, and linear eyes, being quite the contrary of hand- some. But still the Chinese face is not destitute of some beauty, and when animated with good humor and an expressive eye, and lighted by the glow of youth and health, the displeasing features lose much of their repulsiveness. Nor do they fade so soon as has been represented, and look as ugly and withered when old as some travellers say, but are in respect to bearing children and keeping their vigor, more like Euro- peans than the Hindus or Persians. As to the Mongolian and Mant-chou Tartars, their origin presents marked distinctions; the one being a nomadic, the other an agricultural race. The former are a squarely built, swarthy, unprepossessing people; the nearest approach to civilization they exhibit being the possession of a written language, which, however, seems of very little use to them. The Mant-chous are of a fairer aspect and keener intellect than the Chinese, and, in fact, betray more marked Caucasian affinities than any other subjects of the Brother of the Sun. It will be observed that these Tartar tribes are by no means so purely Asiatic in their condition and features as the bulk of the population of China. A large portion of them have migrated thitherward at different periods, from the confines of Western Europe; nor has this migration been entirely of an ancient date. Dc Quincey has narrated, in his flowing lan- guage, the exodus of a body of Kalmuk Tartars, who, so late as the year 1771, flying from the harsh yoke of Russia, left the banks of the Wolga, six hundred thousand strong, taking with them their flocks and their herds, their wives and their little ones. There are few more interesting passages in modern literature than this account of their horrid journey, for thou- sands of miles, across the dreary steppes that lay between their former homes and the promised land, before them, famine and the wintry gods; behind them, the dripping sword, red with the blood of their brothers and their sons, till, after leaving four hundred thousand of their number dead upon the route, the shattered remnant found a final home beneath the shadow of the Chinese wall. The wild Tibetans complete the five divisions under which 164 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, we have classed the various tribes that go to make up the three hundred and sixty millions of souls nominally subject to the dynasty of Ta-tsing. These are a race of strong religious faith, and of tolerable semi-civilization, dwelling contentedly in their highland homes. Such is the materiel of which the empire is composed. Although the religious condition of China is perhaps not the least singular feature that is presented to our observation, yet such is its complicated nature that we despair of giving a just notion of it within our present limits. It certainly is charac- terized by two facts, almost unexampled in such a vast pagan land; namely, the absence of human sacrifices and the non- deification of vice. Suffice it to say, that although there is no established state-priesthood, there has existed in China, from a date beyond the memory of man, a state-religion, con- sisting not of doctrine, but of ceremonies. This involves three grades of devotional rites, the Great, the Medium, and the Lower Sacrifices. The first comprehends four objects; viz. Tien, the heavens, or imperial concave expanse; Ti, the earth; Tai-miau, or the Temple of Ancestors; and the Shi6-tsih, or the protecting divinities of each dynasty. Under the Medium head, sacrifices are offered to Confucius, to former sovereigns, the sun, the moon, etc.; in all, eight adorable divisions. Under the Lower, come numerous objects of less regard; the north pole, for instance, the souls of great men, the clouds, mountains and streams, rain, hail, and thunder, and the like. At the head of the priesthood of this state-religion are placed the Emperor, and the Board of Rites; the descending grades are supposed to embrace all the subjects. But, in fact, the whole is a mere empty pageant, a sort of prescribed manual of etiquette, by no means constituting the real religion of the empire, and most in vogue with the literati, who are, of course, the most competent to commit to memory and to per- form its various ceremonies. These persons Men of Letters, as they are termed are chiefly followers of Confucius, whose teachings went no higher than the doctrine that the great duty of man consists in a proper observance of the rights of others. As for a God above all, he rather denied the existence of any such spirit. Not knowing even life, said he, how should 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 165 we know death ? and he seems not even to have admitted the immortality of the soul. Still his works abound in moral didactics, perfectly suited to the capacity of his countrymen, and his memory is perpetuated by thousands of temples sacred to his name. Another sect, not very dissimilar to the Confucians, is that of the Rationalists, founded by Laukiun, some six hundred years before Christ. His priests render him divine honors, and practise largely on the credulity of the people by jug.. gleries and impositions. But neither this, nor any other rival sect, can compare, in the estimation of the government, with that of the Buddhists, or followers of Fuh. The worship of Buddha was infroduced into China about A. ID. 66, and has subsisted there with varying prosperity ever since. At present it is the imperial creed. Pitiable as their native religions may seem to our eyes, there is one point in which they might be wisely followed by many of the oldest Christian nations: there is no persecution among themselves for mere opinions sake. Unqualified tol- eration towards one another seems to be their controlling principle. Christianity even (though not without a long and painful struggle) has obtained a foothold in the land; and the day seems rapidly approaching when it will be an acknowl- edged and protected, if not a universal faith, throughout those wide-spread dominions. We shall proceed now to trace its establishment. From the scanty evidence exhibited to us, we are not un- willing to believe that, even in the earliest days of our religion, the Apostle Thomas himself preached the tidings of salvation among the Chinese. It is certain that in the sixth century Christian monks visited that land; and the Nestorian mission had probably been established there at least as eariy as A. ID. 500. The curious monument discovered at Singan Pu, in 1625, has been repeatedly described. It is undoubtedly a memorial of the propagation of Christianity by the Nestorians, of the eighth century. In fact, for several hundred years these pious men successfully taught their creed to willing ears; their converts were numerous and influential; but at length various causes arose to impede their efforts, and towards the 166 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, close of the fourteenth century the last traces of their presence disappeared from the land. Little will be said here of the first Roman Catholic missions. In 1288, John de Monte Corvino was sent by Pope Nicholas IV. as a missionary to Tartary. So successful were his labors, that, in 1307, Clement V. sent him seven suifragans, and appointed him archbishop of that country. But his mission also died out, and when the Mings came to the throne, the last vestiges of Romish, as ~vell as of Nestorian Christianity, had faded away as silently, but as irrevocably, as the snow vanishes from the hill-sides beneath the warm breath of spring. The Chinese Christianity of the present day must date itself entirely from the arrival at Canton, in 1581, of Matteo Ricci and Ruggiero, two priests specially selected for this ser- vice by Valignano, Superior of the Romish Oriental Missions. For some few years the indefatigable Ricci labored under in- numerable difficulties, caused by the prejudices and suspicions of his neighbors. But gradually gaining on their confidence by his ready adoption of their customs and costume, and by his superior scientific attainments, he was finally enabled to acquire the favor of many powerful persons, and to accomplish much in furtherance of the end for which he had been sent. It is true that Ricci and his brother Jesuits conformed in so many things to the habits and tastes of the Chinese, that it came to be doubted at last whether the vital truths of religion were not sacrificed to their notions of expediency; and the Dominican and Franciscan monks, their rivals, raised such a storm about their ears, that the poor Jesuits soon found a more wearisome master at Rome than at Pekin. The fact seems to be, that Ricci (whose merits, sufferings, and perseverance we cordially admit) was resolved to succeed in his undertak- ing, let it cost what it might. All the world knows the famous device of his order; and he doubtless thought that in this, of all cases, the end would sanctify the means. The abillties of this astute man were competent the rod of empire to havo swayed, to have conceived and executed the schemes of a Richelieu or an Algarotti. He was eminently a Jesuit statesman; and in 1854.1 THE CHINESE REBELLION. 167 whatever points he found the Chinese determined to ignore his teachings, he made it his business to refine away the salient obstacles, till it would have puzzled the keenest casuist of his own order to determine the line of demarcation between the IRomish and the Chinese ritual. But it is unjust to term him a mere timeserver. The end he had ever in view was not his own well-being; it was the propagation of the faith that he sought, and in every phase of his career, he evidently desired only to turn his flock from their pagan ways, and, since they could not be persuaded to receive undiluted the draught he proffered them, to induce them to consent to it, as a reluctant child swallows medicine, concealed under some more acceptable guise. For many years after Riccis death, things continued in the same train. Schaal, a German Jesuit, succeeded in 1628 to his influence at court, and, notwithstanding occasional perse- cutions and hostile edicts, the work of propagation went on rapidly. The difficulties of the foreign priests were great and numerous, but they were manfully encountered. Imprison- ment was often their lot; stripes, chains, banishment, nay, even torture, and death itself, were not unfamiliar to their experience.. And to crown all, through the intrigues of the Dominican Morales, their conduct was officially denounced by Pope Innocent X., in 1645. To be sure, ten years later, Alexander VII. modified this sentence, so as to deprive it of much of its sting. Nevertheless, the question continued to be agitated during the remainder of the century. The Jesuits openly avowed that, unless their flocks were permitted to con- tinue their ancient ovations to Confucius and their ancestors, they would deny the Christian religion. The reverend fathers even went so far in consequence of the assertion of the Apostolic Vicar, Maigrot, in 1693, that the word tien meant the material heavens, and that therefore the Chinese adorations of it were. idolatrous and deadly sins as to obtain, in 1700, a certificate from the Emperor that the word in dispute properly signified the True God, and that the rites complained of were purely matters of political etiquette. This interpretation might serve for the latitude of Pekin, but it would not answer at Rome; the Emperors statement was 168 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, not satisfactory to the Pope; and in 1704 Clement XI. de- cided that Maigrot was in the right, and consequently that his opponents, from the Brother of the Sun and Moon down to the successors of Father Ricci, were all in the wrong. Here arose a curious conflict of jurisdiction. The Papal legate interdicted to the Chinese Christians the practice of their worship as taught by Ricci. The Emperor, in turn, de- creed that no other form should be allowed. As he was sec- onded by the zealous inclinations of nearly all the missiona- ries, it is not wonderful that they triumphed; and at no period in their history was Romanism so flourishing in China. Scores of churches were erected; hundreds and thousands of con- verts followed the steps of the Jesuits. They were loved by the people, in favor at court, and influential with the literati. In all scientific questions, their voices were listened to with unfeigned respect, and even the great survey of the empire was infrusted to their hands. But in 1723 Kang-hi died, and with him expired whatever substantial protection the missionaries enjoyed. His suc- cessor, Yung- Ching, ordered all the priests in his dominions, save those retained at Pekin for scientific purposes, to be exiled; and since that period their cause has been in constant decadence. Often, it is true, priests have been tacitly permit- ted to pursue their mission, but ever under the overhanging penalty of cruel and arbitrary laws, which are unsparingly put into requisition at the option of any one in power. Neither the past nor the present statistics of the Church of Rome in China can be stated with accuracy. The reports of the fa- thers are frequently confused, seldom reliable, and as a whole utterly unsatisfactory. Even in the matter of persecutions and martyrdoms, which with good reason is held to be their staple subject, they do not give us full information. A few only of their European missionaries have been put to the tor- ture or endured violent death .during this nineteenth century, for their faith and religious works; but many, very many, na~ tive converts have earned the palm of martyrdom, and passed into that other land where they shall be rewarded, not accord- ing to their knowledge, but by the measure of their faith. It is not possible but that, in many cases, no foreign eye witnesses 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 169 the arrest or beholds the doom of these sufferers; no European tongue can proclaim their story; but they are known to Him for whom they have died, and he will recompense them. About 1840, the Romish records estimated the Church in China to contain, besides three hundred and three thousand converts, one hundred and fourteen native and fifty-seven for- eign priests, and eight bishops. M. de la Gravi~re, whose position gave him the i~ieans of obtaining the most accurate information, confirms this statement; but at the same time leads us to infer that there has been little or no increase since that period. Five separate religious orders divide this pre- cious harvest; the Jesuits, the Franciscans, the Dominicans, the Lazarists, and the priests of the Jiliissions Etrangere s,a society founded in 1663, under the protection of Louis XIV. Ten dioceses contain the fold, each governed by a vicar apos- tolic, who is bishop inpartibus, and is not unfrequently assisted by a coadjutor. To the Council of the Propaganda at Rome, however, is committed the supreme control of the missions. To a certain extent, the priests of the same origin find it for their convenience to cling together in this work. Thus the Por- tuguese seem to monopolize the Catholic mission of the prov- ince of Kouang-toung; the Spaniards, that of Fou-kien; the Italians, those of Shan-tung and Chan-si, of Hou-kouang and Kiang-nan. Though the numbers of their converts may seem trifling, and their intelligence and learning small, in compari- son with the people of the West, yet we must not undervalue the worth of the Chinese Christians, nor forget that the pro- fession of the only true faith is a very different thing in that land from what it is with us. They have borne testimony to their creed in exile, in torture, or at the least by voluntary poverty and abnegation of the world. While some have sighed out the whole of their weary lives in the depths of Central Asia, on the borders of Turkistan, or on the dreary con- fines of Siberia, others have expired beneath the hand of the executioner, or, flying to the remote fastnesses of some inhos- pitable mountain, have abandoned to the spoiler all the com- forts of their homes. To effect such a radical change in the nature of a people so avaricious, so sensual, as this, could have been no light task. It was necessary to overturn the tradi. vOL. LXXIX. NO. 164. 15 170 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, tions so blindly venerated by them, to tear their souls from the tombs of their fathers, in a word, to transform, to re- create, as it were, their very nature, ere they could be brought to that exaltation of religious feeling which of men makes martyrs. The first man to essay the teaching of the Protestant faith in China was, as is well knt)wn to all the world, Rev. Robert Morrison, an English divine, who arrived there in 1807. His translation of the New Testament (though but partially completed by himself), is one of the noblest services ever ren- dered by any human hand to the cause of religion. In fact, it is mainly in such enterprises as would for the future facili- tate the intercourse of the English missionary with his native flock, that Morrisons success appears. Seven years had elapsed before he brought a convert to the font; but, through the means of his Dictionary, it is impossible to estimate to how many souls the doctrines of redemption have been and will be conveyed. For twenty-seven years he continued his labors in China, and, never unmindful of his church and his native land, he was constantly employed in the service of the one or the other. It was not until 1834 that this faithful servant was called away. A better spent lifetime can perhaps rarely be found; and though it was brought to a close within a score of years less than those allotted by the Psalmist to the days of man, probably few careers of greater length present such an array of useful deeds. Circles are praised, not that abound In largeness, but the exactly round. So life we praise, that does excel, Not in much time, but acting well. The active progress of Morrison and his few and tardy co- adjutors was, as has been suggested, but scanty. Various missions were, from time to time, established at Malacca and Penang, at Singapore, Borneo, and Java, in order to operate more freely upon the Chinese beyond the immediate control of their own government; and many books were thus put into circulation. The American and the British missionaries are united in this good work, and their success has been lasting. Immense numbers of books printed in Chinese have been dis 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 171 tributed in every direction throughout the empire, and no effort has been spared to affect the minds of those within their reach. By means of hospitals and dispensaries, where relief is gratuitously administered to the sick and needy, thousands of natives are yearly brought into contact with Christian men, whose secret and prevailing desire is to induce their patients to seek another and an omnipotent Physician. Medical and educational institutions and societies, thoroughly imbued with religious principles, have been put into active operation, as but so many means of attaining the one great end, the evangeliza- tion of China; and the missions at Amoy, Hong-kong, Macao, Canton, Fuh-chau-fu, Ning-po, Shang-hai, etc., vigilantly and incessantly toil to bring these wandering sheep into the fold. Nevertheless, all that has thus far been done in this cause is but as the planting of the seed. We hope that it will ger- minate, that it will yield some a hundred, some sixty, some thirty fold; but we must look not in seed-time for the harvest, nor wonder that the manifest good results of the missions in direct regard to their end are yet so small. Indirectly, how- ever, we are justified in recognizing a wide and growing influ- ence, tending towards evangelical progress, throughout some of the chief provinces. The books distributed by the mission- aries have probably, to a certain extent, familiarized the minds of the people with the doctrines of the Tien Chit Kiau, or religion of the Lord of Heaven ; nay, it is not too much to say, that many are seriously interested in them, though not generally to the extent of perfect conviction. In late years, before the insurrection broke out so violently, there were several public demonstrations of the relaxation of the preju- dices previously held against Christians. Such, for instance, were the imperial rescripts of 1844 and 1845, granting to the people toleration of Christianity, whether Romish or Prot- estant. At present there are about one hundred and twenty Protestant missionaries, of all denominations, in that country; and we could have wished to dwell more at length upon the labors of such men as Medhurst, Boone, Abeel, and, above all, of Gutzlaff; but we must hasten to a consideration of the temporal prospects of the empire. To the most superficial observer, the lamentable inefficiency 172 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, of the Chinese government must be transparently manifest. At the same time one of the most artificial, most cumbrous, and least satisfactory in the world, this form simply consists in the maintenance of the patriarchal system long after the number of the population and the increase of territory have deprived such a system of all the usefulness that it might have originally possessed. In a nomadic state, wandering from place to place, a tribe might reasonably be supposed to find its interest in entire submission to a chief whom it regarded as a father. But when for centuries it has ceased to lead this vagabond life, when the possession of flocks and herds no longer constitutes the sole wealth of its leaders, and its mem- bers are spread in permanent occupancy over vast provinces and kingdoms, the patriarchal form of government must inevitably become as unfit for the practical well-being of mcii as it has in China. Here, of course, the Emperor is the head of the nation, the father of three hundred and sixty millions of children. But his functions and duties are dele- gated through so many governors and mandarins, of all ranks and grades, and theirs again through so many subordinate officers, that it is utterly impossible, without the greatest purity and capacity on the part of the powers that be, that such a form of government can answer the end for which we must suppose all human governments are organized. Accordingly, we find in every rank of officers in China, con- stant and glaring instances of corruption and tyranny. To enforce the doctrine of strict personal responsibility, one of the cardinal features of a patriarchal government, a system of espionage is resorted to by the superior officers towards their inferiors, in itself sufficient to degrade the character of a nation. And as this prevails through every class, our readers may judge what an unhappy state of affairs it must involve. Notwithstanding the fertility of its soil and the avaricious industry that characterizes its inhabitants, famine frequently presses hard upon the empire; whole provinces are shut out by inundation, or drought, from their accustomed supplies of food; and then bands of beggars infest the roads, five hundred or a thousand strong. These occurrences, springing from temporary causes, we do not bring forward in support of the 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 173 argument that seeks to show the wretched condition of the counfry. But in the testimony of intelligent and impartial European observers, who have passed years among that people, we find ample evidence of the miserable system of tyranny with which the Chinese have long been afflicted. The most venal officials in the Western hemisphere are, we are told, models of purity and disinterestedness in comparison with the mandarins of the Celestial Empire. Everything in the conduct of these lettered magistrates is tainted with cor- ruption; justice belongs to the highest bidder; and public employments are the objects of a shameful traffic. Those literary institutions, which have so often called forth the admiration of the political philosophers of Europe, are, in point of fact, one organized system of pillage. The function- aries who have passed their lives in laborious commentaries upon the text of Confucius hesitate as little in their exactions upon the people, as their own official superiors hesitate in oppressing them. The Son of Heaven, the Sovereign Ruler of the World, shut up in his palace in the vicinity of Pekin, lives in almost utter ignorance of what is daily going on in every part of his empire. The exercise of the supreme power is virtually wielded by a band of hypocritical slaves, who form an impenetrable circle around his gilded throne. In the sublime height of his despotic arrogance, this monarch believes himself to be the supreme judge of the whole world, an illusion which the deference of more powerful states has not a little tended to encourage. It might have been sup- posed that the result of the Opium War would in a measure lift the veil which had so long concealed from view the weak- ness of his empire. On the faith of official documents, it has been generally believed that China maintained a standing army of seven hundred thousand; but it now appears that the regular force does not amount to more than sixty thousand, (pra~torian bands entirely composed of Mant-chou Tartars, and divided under eight banners,) of whom the majority are retained in the capital, the remainder being distributed in garrisons, etc. through the provinces. There is no doubt but that this army is constituted of the bravest and most respectable materials of the land; but, armed only with bows and arrows, or the cumbrous, 15* 174 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, old-fashioned match-lock, their ignorance of modern military tactics would render their opposition of little account in the eyes of a European force. Such as they are, however, they form the main dependence of the imperial throne. But besides this army, China possesses a numerous militia, whose names are enrolled, and who are liable to be at any time called into active service by the proper mandarin of the district. Nev- ertheless, when such an emergency occurs, experience has demonstrated how little reliance can be placed upon this force. At the hour of need, not one fourth part of those registered answer to the call. Many evade appearing; a larger pro- portion have no existence. Names are kept upon the roll from year to year, long after their owners are dead and gone, in order to swindle the government (or, more indirectly, the people, who pay the taxes) of the small stipend allowed for their support. Undisciplined, and often lawless, such of the militia as are actually mustered into service are frequently worse than useless. In the English war we find whole bodies positively refusing to meet the enemy, and only raising their arms to attack and plunder their fellow-countrymen. Such are the means on which the Emperor must depend for the resistance of domestic revolt or foreign aggression. If we look at the state of the Chinese finances, we find them in a confusion no less striking. The imperial revenues, plundered on all sides on their way from the pockets of the people to the treasury at Pekin, cannot exceed one hundred millions of dollars in specie; what the duties that are levied in kind, in rice, in tea, in silk, etc., may amount to, is incal- culable. But copious and unceasing drains are constantly exhausting this magnificent reservoir as fast as it begins to fill. Several millions are devoted every year by the Emperor to the preservation of those watercourses by means of which internal navigation is carried on, and without which the whole population would be plunged into the most profound misery. Nevertheless, the banks of the canals are constantly falling in, the waters of the rivers are overflowing their dikes, and ac- cording to present appearances the Grand Canal itself will be utterly useless in less than thirty years. Where every official to whose care the superintendence of any task is intrusted deems 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 175 it his first duty to help himself from the national funds, and to apply as little of them as possible to the objects to which they were appropriated, it is easy to imagine in what condition affairs must be. The deficit is not confined to public works; it prevails everywhere. In the department of the customs, and in that of monopolies, it is enormous, almost beyond belief. The farmers of the salt revenues alone are in arrears to the govern- ment at least three millions of dollars. The hospitals and the public storehouses, established and supported by the govern- ment, daily have their revenue devoured by a horde of greedy mandarins and their underlings. It is vain, in the contempla- tion of these facts, to assert that it is institutions that are want- ing to China. She has institutions enough, in all conscience; but they are, at this period of her history, no longer adapted to her wants. They are like an exhausted vine, which has ceased to produce fruit, and, like the barren fig-tree in the parable, should be cut down and burnt, nor longer suffered to cumber the ground. So long ago as 1787, the famous but unfortunate Lap~rouse, had put on record the same facts to Which we have now adverted. Ce peuple, said he, dont les lois sont si vant6es en Europe, est peut-~tre le peuple le plus malheureux, le plus vex~ et le plus arbitrairement gouvern6 quil y ait sur la terre. It is truly a matter of surprise that such an incompetent rule, such a galling yoke, has not long since been thrown off; but to the growing discontent of the oppressed people a resistance was opposed by their education and habits. Their respect for ancient customs and traditions, their cold and patient temperament, the severe labor to which they are inured, and, possibly, the instinct of subordination peculiar to the Asiatic race, --- all these interlacing bonds of natural and political association which we at this distance cannot perfectly appreciate, have hitherto united to prevent a general uprising of the people. At the same time, it must be remarked, that with each successive shock the opposing barrier has by insensible degrees become weaker, until gradu- ally the mass of the people were prepared, if not openly to embrace the cause of a successful insurgent, at least to behold with apathy the distress of the government, and to mock when their fear cometh. 176 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, So hardy and sagacious a spirit would it require in the Emperor who, refusing to yield blind credence to the false tales and almost idolafrous flatteries of the bigoted and interested horde of mandarins that fill the avenues to his throne, should firmly persist in acquainting himself with the real condition of his subjects, and in redressing their wrongs, that such a personage could hardly have been expected in the present cri- sis. The later years of the last sovereign, however, afforded some indications of this sort, and, imperfect as his reforms were, gave room to hope that his successor, with the aid of all the advantages that youthful energy and popularity always bestow upon a king, might go on triumphantly in the path thus opened. Tao-kouang, who in 1820 came to the throne, had already displayed a degree of presence of mind and reso- lute will sufficient to warrant the hope that the changes in his policy, which were caused by the consequences of his war with Great Britain, would be permanent. The disgraceful reverses sustained by this monarch in that affair seem to have effectually opened his eyes to the mendacious or stupid theo- ries of his ministers; and though his mind was not sufficiently enlightened to ordain a radical change, for the future, of the men as well as the measures through whose misrule such dis- asters had been brought about, he suffered the chief manda- rins Ki-in and lVLou-tchang-ha, the leaders of what may be termed the progressive party, to attain and exercise a high degree of influence in his counsels. But notwithstanding that the plans of these officers, if carried out, were those only that could save the empire from overthrow, and procure for the people some relief from the heavy burdens under which they labored, they were universally unpopular. The herd of leeches who had so long battened on the body politic hated them, not less for the prospect they held out of a vindictive reform in the adminisfration of public business, than for the innovations and novelties they infroduced into the time-hon- ored fabric under which their ancestors had lived and died. The national vanity was not a little shocked at the conduct of men, who, with the triumphant roar of the English cannon stili echoing in their ears, and the English flag still way- ing in the breeze over the blackened walls of Chin-kiang-fon, 1854.1 THE CHINESE REBELLION. 177 hesitated not to acknowledge the prowess of the invaders. The treaty of peace made under the very walls of Nankin, with its exacting provision of the payment of some twenty- four millions of dollars, brought no conviction to the bigoted minds of the Chinese. It was not possible for them to con- ceive that the whole business amounted to anything more than a piratical foray in which the strangers had been signally repulsed. The withdrawal of the English forces was hailed as their defeat; and the levies that had been drawn from the more distant parts of the empire, returning to the provinces without having ever even seen the enemy, bore their banners exultingly through the land as they shouted: Our flag was unrolled, and our enemies fled before its presence! Severe as was the lesson, it was all in vain. These infatuated Pa- gans learned nothing from it, save only to hate and deride the few wiser heads that candidly confessed the lamentable infe- riority of Chinese military strategy to that of the foreign devils. Thus things went on till the death of Tao-kouang, and the accession of his son, an event thus picturesquely described by MM. Callery and Yvan. On the 26th of February, 1850, at seven oclock in the morning, the entrances to the imperial palace of Pekin were obstructed by a dense throng of mandarins of the inferior orders, and servants in white dresses and yellow girdles, who spoke in a whisper, and wore an aspect of official grief on their countenances. In the midst of this ocean of sub- alterns were stationed sixteen persons, each accompanied by a groom, who held a horse saddled and bridled. These sixteen persons wore the satin cap tied under the chin and surmounted by a white ball; also a girdle hung with bells; a tube of yellow color was slung diagonally over their shoulders, and they held in their hand a long whip. One of the high dignitaries came out from the palace, and with his own hands gave each of these men a folded document, sealed with the red seal of the Emperor. The sixteen, after bowing to receive it, swung round the tube, which, with the exception of its yellow color, perfectly resembled the tin cylinders in which soldiers, released from service, inclose their cong~. In this they respectfully placed the official despatch; after which they mounted on horseback; while the grooms secured them on the saddle with thongs that passed over their thighs. When they were firmly fixed, the crowd gave way, and the horses set off at full speed. 178 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, These sixteen horsemen, who are called Fei-ma, or flying couriers, had each of them to perform in twenty-four hours a journey of six hun- dred ii, or sixty leagues French. Their office was to carry the follow- ing despatch to the Governors-general of the sixteen provinces of the Celestial Empire The Board of Rites gives notice in great haste to the Governor- general, that on the fourteenth of the first moon, the Supreme Gov- ernor, mounted on a dragon, departed for the ethereal regions. At the hour mao in the morning, his Celestial Majesty transmitted the impe- rial dignity to his fourth son, Se-go-ko, and in the evening, at the hour kai~, he set out for the abode of the gods. At the early age of nineteen, then, Se-go-ko, the fourth son of the late Emperor, ascended the throne, assuming at the same time the name of Hi~n-foung; and almost the first act of his reign was to reverse the train of policy that had hardly been set in motion by his predecessor. The leading reform- ers of the old ministry were ignominiously dismissed from office, and the monarch, in the most public manner, an- nounced his decided intention to return to the ancient ideas that had formerly prevailed with undoubted sway. The folly of this procedure was, however, but too soon made manifest. Close upon the heels of this change in the ministry followed the arrival at the capital of the news of the insurrection of the Kouang-si. We have already alluded to the numerous and just causes of disaffection towards their rulers that existed among the Chinese people, but we have not as yet referred to the chief method which the more daring among them had undertaken in order to obtain the means of redress. This was the forma- tion of secret societies, whose real object was undoubtedly to procure for their members a cessation of the injuries with which they were affected. For many years such institutions have existed in China, and their origin is palpably traceable to the maladministration of the government and to the neces- sity experienced by the people of thus associating together to accomplish some desired end, or to provide the better for their common security. Therefore, though political objects were the ultimate design of their organization, they are always tinctured by some form of religious creed. The most consid 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 179 erable of these is the Tien-ti hwui, or San-hoh hwui, i. e. the Triad Society. It was formerly known by the title of the Pih-lien kiau, or Water-lily Sect, but having been proscribed by the government, it sought by this alteration of name, and some other slight changes, to evade the operation of the laws. In fact, it still subsists in some of the remoter provinces under its old name and organization. The known and indeed almost openly avowed object of this society has been, for many years, the overturn of the Mant-chou dynasty. About fifty years ago its members excited a bold and wide-spread rebellion in the middle and northwestern provinces, which was suppressed only after eight years of obstinate and bloody war. Their ruling purpose they have never relinquished, and it is to them, in all human probability, that the present struggle is to be attributed. The forms of this society are said to be very similar in theory, as are also its putative objects, to those of our Masonic bodies. Secrecy and obedience are its cardinal principles. The novice is initiated with certain absurd cere- monies, passing under an archway of naked swords into the presence of an idol, where, while he takes the oath of eternal silence, a cock, the emblem, since the days of ~Esop, of inop- portune loquacity, is sacrificed before him. Like the Masons, too, they have their signs and passwords, by which to recog- nize each other and to render mutual aid. The members ad- here to one another through thick and thin, and, it must be confessed, have not scrupled to persecute and oppress those who regarded their combination with disfavor or treated it as illegal. In 1845, the English at Hong-kong enacted, that any Chinese in that colony proved to be a member of the Triad Society should be punished as for felony, with three years im- prisonment, branding, and expulsion from their confines. The reason that persuaded the red-haired devils to this act of rigor consisted in the fact that the Triad Society in Hong- kong, towards all who did not belong to their body, was little better than a nest of robbers. In addition to this most impor- tant sect, there are many others more or less connected with it, such as the Wan-kiang, or Incense-burning Sect, etc., which need not be cited here. Their objects are generally the same, though their organization may sllghtly differ. 180 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, The magnificent province of the Kouang-si formed a school admirably adapted for the first movements of revolution. In no part of the world has natufe assumed a more picturesque, a more mysterious aspect, than in this singular region. Fan- tastic crags, bearing those remarkable resemblances to ani- mate objects that have so often atfracted the wonder or the worship of ignorance and superstition, rear high their lofty heads. In the whispering murmurs of the tree-tops that throw their dark, deep shade over the scene, the awe-struck native seems to hear the voice of stones apparently instinct with and ready to burst into actual, breathing life. Through mountain defiles, foaming torrents bound headlong from rock to rock, and drown in their roar the faint notes of the few herds that find a scanty subsistence on their banks. It is here that the Miautsze the dreaded men-wolves of the dwell- ers in Pekin or Canton (who invest these hated tribes with the monstrous attributes of unnatural prodigies) live on the steep mountain-sides, beneath the brown shadows of their an- cient forests. And it was here that the band of refugees and rebels, who had resolved on an armed resistance to the yoke they had already refused to obey, assembled. The obscurity of this little-frequented district rendered it easy for them to mould undisturbedly their forces into warlike coherence and form; and the prospect of finding an impenetrable retreat in the event of a repulse, and useful allies in the event of success, among the hardy Miautsze, lent wings to their hopes, and materially aided them in their earlier essays. It was early in the year 1850 that the insurrection first be- gan to develop itself in the Kouang-si. As the rebels increased in numbers, and their successes in the few encounters they had with the imperial troops became more public, they moved slowly through the southwestern portions of the province, until finally they entered Konang-toung. These movements, being known at Canton and Pekin, caused no little alarm, and the Emperor, in the violence of his indignation, instantly ordered the mandarin Lin to take command in the rebellious districts, and to exterminate the offenders. Nothing could give a better idea of the imperial policy than this step. Lin, though past the prime of life, was famous for his inflexible 1864.] THE CHINESE REB1~LLT0N. 181 adherence to the ancient school of government. It was his conduct in relation to the destruction of the opium-chests, that had plunged his country into the English war; and had he survived long enough to engage in active operations against the rebels, he probably would have displayed an equal amount of obstinacy and stupidity. Fortunately for himself, however, he died on the route, at the close of the year 1860; but he had lived long enough to hear the proclamation put forth by the rebels, in which, for the first time, they avowed their intention of getting possession of the throne at the earli- est opportunity. The person first put forward as the rival claimant of the throne was a youth named Tien-te, an alleged descendant of the Mings, about twenty-four years old. Ac- cording to Callery and Yvan, who put full faith in the story, Tien-te was of a grave temperament, of solitary habits, and of an unbending will. His proportions, though not those of an athlete, were good. His complexion indicated his origin to have been in the southern provinces of China. So far we follow our authors; but we at the same time believe that they have, in the rest of their story, been most ridiculously gulled. Tien-te, whatever his origin and condition, was never any- thing but the merest tool in the hands of Houng-siu-tsiuen, who kept him during his life carefully shrouded from the pub- lic gaze, and used the mystery thus caused for the furtherance of his own ends. Whether or not it was really Tien-te who a little later was captured and executed by the government, we cannot now say. But it is certain that he was extinct, and that Houng-siu-tsiuen had openly assumed the head of the enterprise, by the middle of March, 1863. It is probable enough that the latter, being an able and dexterous man, had provided the means of carrying out this imposture (if we con- sider it as an imposture) to just the required length, and then quietly suffered Tien-te to sink into oblivion, or captivity and death. Time alone can show the truth of the case. Still, at the commencement of the outbreak we find Tien-te asserted to be a lineal descendant of the ancient Mings, whose dynasty he was to restore, and with it the happy days and institutions of that period, which were terminated by the Mant-chon irruption. It is just possible that Tien-te was a vor~. Lxxlx.No. 164. 16 182 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, descendant of that royal house; for we know so little of his antecedents as to be barely able to refuse credence to certain writers who boldly pronounce him altogether a myth, a fab- ulous creation, with no actual existence. But certainly he had no legitimate pretensions to the crown upon that score. The constitutional history of China teaches but one rule of succession, which is that They should take who have the power, And they should keep who can. If ever might makes right in any counfry, it is in this, where one race of kings supervenes another by dint of no other argu- ment than the popular will, as expressed by the poorest but most palpable of all evidences, the force of arms. By the commencement of 18~51, the insurrection had assumed the aspect of a civil war; and the most serious efforts of the government to reduce it to at least its original condition utterly failed. Forced loans were exacted, with no sparing hand, from the wealthy merchants of Canton, and the prime-minister of the empire, with two of the chief mandarins, was sent to the revolted province of Konang-si, where the conduct of affairs under the charge of the viceroy, Sin, had not been such as to inspire any great confidence in his ultimate success. Never- theless, things daily assumed a more dangerous aspect. An attempt was even made, in July, 1851, upon the Emperors life, which, though it failed, and the assassin, as well as eigh- teen mandarins suspected of complicity in the plot, were hur- ried off to instant death, yet served to show to the sovereign that treason lurked under his very roof~tree.* About the same * This custom of punishing the innocent with the guilty is one of the most abom- inable parts of the Chinese criminal code, and yet of such universal prevalence, that there is not the slightest exaggeration in an amusing sketch of the late Mr. Sealys, which narrates the result of a complaint made by a Man of Letters against his son-in-law, a Yellow Girdle (or member of the imperial kindred), for conjugal harshness. The brutal husband is slain, and his body cut into small pieces, one of which is sent to every square ii throughout the empire, and stuck upon a thorn. His ten nearest relatives are strangled; and his wife, the original cause belli, is strangled likewise. His servants each receive two hundred lashes, and the old father-in-law five hundred; the allowance of pay and rice to all the Yellow Girdles of the empire is suspended for three years; and the chief mandarin of the city is hung at his own door! 1854.] TIlE CHINESE REBELLION. 183 time, Tien-te ventured upon a new mode of publishing his pretensions. A coinage bearing his inscription was struck and speedily put into extensive circulation. Nothing could be better devised than this scheme, to familiarize the minds of the people with the notion of his advent to power. And whilst city after city was falling into their hands, the hearts of the insurgents were kept exasperated by the public execu- tion at Canton of hundreds of their comrades who had fallen into the clutches of the government. Still, however, the walled city of Kouci-lin, the capital of the Kouang-si, in which were installed the viceroy and his choicest troops, re- sisted their hopes of its capture. The whole of Kouang-si, with the solitary exception of Kouei-lin, having now submitted to the rebels, they passed its boundaries, and made themselves masters of Kao-tcheou-fou, a city in the adjoining province of Canton. Hence they issued a proclamation which is important, as showing the first tokens of what we believe to be the secret of their organization. To the popular idea that this is a Christian movement, secretly guided and controlled by native converts, or possibly by some bold, designing spirit from Europe, we have never lent a moments credence. We think there can be no doubt that the insurrection is composed of different bands, each having its own specific object in view, and united only against a common foe. In the proclamation we have referred to, Tien- te, or his mouth-piece, announces that the Tartar rule is about to terminate, and that the sons of Han will once more wield the supreme poxver. But he goes on to add, that, with their fall, the realms so long united under the Mant-chou sceptre are to be divided; and in this the real object of the insurgent chiefs is undoubtedly made manifest. The epoch when Pekin shall fall into their hands is announced as the period when they will proceed to a division of the kingdom. This address is said to have been the composition of Houng- siu-tsiuen, the most astute and able of the rebel chiefs, who has assumed the title of King Tai-ping, or Grand Pacificator. This mans counsels appear to have entirely governed the motions of the young Tien-te, and have undoubtedly led to much of his success, as well as to the favor his cause has found 184 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, in the eyes of Christendom. In fact, certain passages in the address very plainly indicate it to have been the work of one familiar with the Christian doctrines, and convinced of their truth; and curiosity was not a little stimulated to know what manner of man he might be whose hand had penned this remarkable document. From the Rev. Mr. Yates, a Baptist missionary in China, the following letter has been received and published in this country. We are inclined to believe it in the main to be correct in its statements. We give it at length, merely premising that the Hung- Suchen and the Quang- See of the letter are but a different orthography for Houang-siu-tsiuen and Kouang-si Shang-hai, September 22, 1853. There are at present stopping in our mission two lads, whose iden- tity is not known, except to our mission. One, a boy of fifteen, is the son of the Southern King, the other, a lad of eighteen or twenty, who was on last Sabbath received into our church by baptism, is the nephew and adopted son of the Southern King (one of the four great leaders of the rebellion in China). From these young men (the elder of whom is well acquainted with all the circumstances that led to the first hostile demonstrations), we have been able to get correct information touching the origin of the rebellion. From these young men we learn that Hung-Suchen (at present known as Tai-ping-Wong), having embraced the Christian religion, destroyed every sign of idolatry about his house and school-room (for he was a teacher of a high school), and gave much attention to pub- lishing the Gospel. Disciples to the new doctrine multiplied rapidly. Soon this innovation upon the ancient customs attracted the attention of the authorities of Quang-See; for it was in this interior province, far removed from foreign influence, that this new thing started. The authorities in question attempted to crush this new religion by persecution, but this only attracted attention to it. Finding that the new sect was daily and rapidly increasing, they (the civil and military authorities) beheaded two of the disciples, thinking that this rigid meas- ure would suppress this disorderly body. But so far from having this effect, they (the Christians, who had increased by this time to quite a considerable number) took up arms in defence of their religion, and called upon God to aid and defend them. The imperialists, in an engagement with them, were routed with great loss. The Christian armyincreased rapidly, till they were able 1854.1 THE CHINESE REBELLION. 185 to withstand any force that might be brought against them. The Chris- thin army was now fairly committed. They well knew that they must be delivered from the bondage of the imperial yoke, both civil and religious, or death was certain. They formed the design of subverting the government, with the intention of establishing in its stead a liberal and Christian government. They issued tracts and circulars, in which they attacked the abuses and corruptions of the civil authorities and the religious teachers, etc. They destroyed idols, and circulated portions of the Scriptures and religious tracts, and preached to the people a purer religion. All this, strange to say, secured them the favor of the people, and their thousand was soon multiplied. Thus Hung Suchen commenced about three years ago. Since then, he has fought many battles. In every place he exposes the corruptions of the mandarins and priests, destroys idols, circulates the Scriptures and religious tracts (many of which are his own productions, in which, of course, there are many errors), and preaches the Gospel. His main army is now before Pekin. Considering all the circumstances of the present rebellion in China, viewed either in a civil or religious point of view, it is without a parallel in the history of the world. The chiefs of the insurgents may be briefly summed up as follows. First on the list we must place Tien-te, their nomi- nal leader, an alleged descendant of the Mings, whose name served as a rallying-point for all who looked with hope to the revival of the ancient glories and traditions of the empire, and the restoration of a native line of princes. After him, but per- haps each possessing more real power, came the four tributary Kings, as they were called, of the East, the West, the North, and the South, hang, Siao, Wei, and Foung. Each of these men was doubtless the head of a band of insurgents, and each, counting upon a province as his independent kingdom, united cordially with his brdthers in the great work before them. As for Houng-siu-tsiuen, who was, it is said, originally a dis- appointed candidate for office, a Man of Letters, and a leader in the Triad Society, he is possibly the next Emperor of China. He is probably a native of Canton and a semi-Chris- tian, and it is no doubt to him and to his immediate followers that we owe the numerous documents upon which the belief in the religious character of the rebellion is based. Probably, too, the same principles may prevail to a less extent among 16 186 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, the bands of Foung-hi~n-san, the King of the South, whose history seems closely similar to that of the Great Pacificator. Be that as it may, however, it is very evident that, at the best, but a portion of the main body of the rebels is even slightly inclined to Christianity, while the remainder hold it in no esteem whatsoever. The correctness of our views of this affair is confirmed by the txvo subsidiary movements in the great island of Hai-nan, lying south of the province of Canton; and in the province of Hon-nan, lying to the north. In each of these districts, the rising was probably encouraged by messages from the chiefs gathered around Kouei-lin, but it was essentially a local and independent movement, and perfectly successful. Every- where the rebels triumphed, while in the Konang-si, the old viceroy, Siu, in an attempt to retrieve his falling fortunes, incurred for the imperial arms a defeat as disgraceful as it was ludicrous. This old fool had gathered together four thousand buffaloes, to whose horns were attached resinous torches. The torches were lighted, and the beasts were driven by night, with a large body of imperialists following close at their heels, towards the enemys camp. By this notable device, the viceroy thought to inspire such terror and confusion among his enemies as to render them an easy prey; but the stratagem recoiled on his own head, and his troops were cut to pieces. Finding this experiment not very satisfactory, Siu hit upon another, scarcely less admirable. A strong force was detached from his army, and sent to Pekin, having in guard a prisoner alleged to be no other than Tien-te. Arrived at the capital, the alleged pretender was speedily executed, and a long last dying speech and confession published to the world. The trick took; the imperialists congratulated each other; and for a season who so great as the viceroy Siu? But presently tidings were received from the mountains of Konang-si; and lo! Tien-te was as much alive as ever. The mock tale of his execution was solely the device of Siu, who by this means elevated his fame as a statesman to a rank not inferior to that he had acquired in the battle of the buffaloes as a general. Were it not, however, that we rely firmly on the narrative of MM. Callery and Yvan on this point, we should be disposed to believe Sins captive to have been no other than Tien-te. 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 187 Three of the eighteen provinces were now in the hands of the rebels, and the island of Formosa, which, with the revolted Hai-nan, controls almost the whole coast-trade, was in a very seditious state. At last, however, a few partial successes smiled upon the imperial arms, and at Tchao-tcheou-fou and Young-tcheou-fou the enemy were repulsed. Hitherto, the conduct of Tien-tes army had been praiseworthy in an emi- nent degree. No pillage, no lawless disorder, followed in their path. Wherever they went, private property was respected; the government officials only were called upon to tremble at their approach. But, infuriated by their unwonted defeats, they stormed the wealthy city of Kouei-yang in the lou-nan, put the principal officers to death, and exacted heavy contribu- tions from all the inhabitants; and in September, 1852, estab- lished their head-quarters at Hing-gan in the immediate vicinity of Kouei-lin, where was ensconced their constant opponent, the viceroy Siu, and the year closed upon re- newed defeats in every quarter of the Tartar party; while the Mant-chou sovereign, in default of the power to work his will upon the rebels themselves, occupied himself in punishing his own officers who had unsuccessfully opposed them. In every quarter of the empire, rebellion uplifted its head, and gave the local authorities more than sufficient employment in holding their own. The finances at Pekin were in a dread- fully embarrassed state, and by an edict of the vermilion pencil of Hien-foung himself, almost every rank and dignity that a subject could hope to attain through influence or merit was exposed for sale. Surely a more besotted scheme than this was never conceived. To intrust, in such a crisis, the most important posts to the hands of men whose sole known capacity lay in the number of taels they could afford to put down in the treasury, was virtually to abandon almost every prospect of ultimate triumph. Nor did the year 1853 open upon more favorable prospects. On the 12th of January, the city of Ou-tchang, the capital of the Hou-pe, fell into the hands of the rebels; and the news of this reverse sufficed to spread fear and confusion far and wide among the friends of the government, who occupied them- selves in assembling the discordant and frequently licentious 188 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, population that were willing to enroll themselves under the imperial banners. But the insurgents had already arrived in force at the waters of the great river Yang-tze-kiang, and, slowly following the course of this stream, had successively seized the important cities that are built upon its upper waters till at last, with a fleet of junks, respectable enough in a mili- tary point of view for the purposes of Chinese hostilities, and with an army of fifty thousand men, they seated themselves, in the spring of 1853, before the walls of Nankin. Nankin is one of the most important of the Chinese cities, whether as regards population, wealth, or social influence. Its spacious warehouses receive the produce of the vast rice- fields that furnish so large a proportion of the sustenance of the nation. No less than twenty-eight millions of souls inhabit the province of which it is the entrep6t; and large fleets crowd its wharves to bear away its surplus produce to the marts of Canton and Pekin. It may readily be conceived that the pros- pect of the loss of this city, or even of its being actually besieged by land and by water, was fraught with dismal fore- bodings for the future, and with untoward sentiments of present annoyance and commercial distress to the dwellers in the royal palace. In this emergency, however, Hien-foung acted with his accustomed promptitude. Heavily fell his hand upon all of his officers who had failed in subduing or in bribing the enemy. Old Siu was publicly disgraced, and in the arms of a young and attractive wife the Emperor sought to find that solace and comfort which his mandarins had failed to afford him. All was in vain, however; in the month of April, 1853, Nankin fell into the power of his rival. But before we trace the further progress of the insurgents, let us turn aside for a moment to notice the nature of the various books and documents which, during their siege of Nankin, they found opportunity to diffuse through the adja- cent country. The most striking of these is, perhaps, a procla- mation, issued evidently in an unofficial manner, but probably by some one in high authority in their camp. In this paper, the people are warned to continue in their business quietly, leaving to the army of Tien-te the task of driving out the Mant-chous. Europeans are significantly notified to attend 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 189 to their own affairs, and to keep aloof from those of China, until the son of the Mings shall be in a position to instruct them in the position they are henceforth to occupy; and as for the stupid priests of Buddha, and the jugglers of Tao.se, we are told they must all be put down, and their temples and mon- asteries, as well as those of all other corrupt sects, must be demolished. Whether the author of this menacing epistle be a member of the Christian Union of Gutzlaff, or a disciple of Confucius, it is difficult to guess. We incline to the latter opinion. At all events, the document is valuable only as serv- ing to show the state of feeling in a po4ion of the rebel camp. The remaining documents to which we shall refer admit of a very different construction. One of these works is entitled The Book of Religious Precepts of the Taeping Dynasty. It opens with the announcement of several doctrinal points, which are evidently so foreign to the native and educational bent of the mind of a purely Chinese student, that they must have been inspired by the garbled recollections of the teach- ings of some stranger. Fortunately, the occasional coinci- dence, both in expression and in thought, with passages from Christian works already issued in that tongue, leave us under no difficulty in pointing out their origin. The first sentence Who has ever lived in the world without offending against the commands of Heaven? conveys the idea of universal, if not of original sin. The author then goes on to say that until this time no one has ever known how to obtain deliver- ance from sin~; and that now the great God has made a gracious communication to man: and from henceforth whoso- ever repents of his sins may ascend to heaven. These, so far as they go, are good, Christian doctrines, and must be of Christian origin, since neither they, nor the pictures of the future state of mankind, embracing the two conditions of end- less bliss and of endless torment, are to be found in any form among the writings of Confucius. But in the following hymn the scheme of redemption is set forth as plainly as could be desired by the most evangelical writer: How different are the true doctrines from the doctrines of the world! They save the souls of men, and lead to the enjoyment of endless bliss: The wise receive them with exultation, as the source of their happiness: The foolish, when awakened, understand thereby the way to heaven. 190 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, Our Heavenly Father, of his great mercy and unbounded goodness, Spared not his first-born Son, but sent him down into the world To give his life for the redemption of all our transgressions, The knowledge of which, coupled with repentance, saves the souls of men. The author proceeds to announce that forgiveness of sins is the result of repentance and prayer; that prayers may be according to a set form or not; but that they must be regu- larly offered at morning and evening, at every meal, and on all extraordinary occasions, and upon the Sabbath in increased number. The forms of prayer put forth in the b9ok, by way of assisting such weaker brethren as may find it difficult to compose for themselves, are all offered through the inter- - cession of Jesus, and most of them contain allusions to the saving grace of the Holy Ghost. They all, too, seem framed upon the model of the Lords Prayer. Compare, for instance, the following, paragraph by paragraph Our Father which art in heav- Hallowed be thy name: Thy kingdom come: Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven: Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, & c. Lead us not into temptation; But deliver us from evil. Amen. en: We pray the great God, our Heavenly Father, which art in heaven. Thy will be done on earth as it is done in heaven: Every day bestow upon us food and clothing: Forgive our frequent transgres- sions; Never allow us to be deceived by demons; Deliver us from the Evil One; This is our hearts sincere de- sire. It should be mentioned that the fourth clause of the prayer, as above quoted from the Book of Religious Precepts, is perfectly identical with the corresponding passage in the New Testament of Medhurst and Gutzlaff, issued in 1835; and that other portions of the same prayer bear also a great resemblance to the version referred to. Other prayers are not so unexceptionable. There are prayers for the dead, and forms 1854.1 THE CHINESE REBELLION. 191 for the sacrificial offering of animals, wine, tea, and rice, to God, upon any suitable occasion; the authority for which is certainly not derived from the New Testament. That the religious recollections of the compiler of the Book of Precepts, however, were drawn from various missionary sources, is abundantly evident. The doxology published by the Ameri- can Baptist Mission, in 1848, finds a prominent place among them We praise God, our holy Heavenly Father: We praise Jesus, the holy Lord and Saviour of the world: We praise the Holy Spirit, the Sacred Intelligence: We praise ~the three persons, who united constitute one true Spirit (God). The insurgents version of the Ten Commandments is by no means literally copied from the translations of the various missionaries. The first and second they render, Thou shalt worship God, and Thou shalt not worship any evil spirits; phrases not employed in any of the missionary works that we are acquainted with. In general, however, it is easy to see that the writings of the American Presbyterian and Baptist mis- sionaries were present to the mind of the compiler. Some of his ideas of the Sacraments are rather oddly expressed. A penitent seeking forgiveness is bidden to take a basin of wa- ter and wash himself clean; or if he perform his ablutions in the river, it will be so much the better. This is supposed to embody some rude notions of Baptism. As for the celebra- tion of the Eucharist, there does not appear the remotest allu- sion to it in any of the religious treatises of the rebels. The Trimetrical Classic is another important pamphlet put forth by the insurgents; but its contents have already been given to the public in the volume of MM. Callery and Yvan. In Mr. Oxenfords supplementary chapter is published a literal translation of this singular production. We will only remark that the earlier portion of the Trimetrical Classic, nar- rating the history of the race of Israel, is evidently taken from Medhursts and Gutzlaffs New Testament of 1836, and Gutz- laffs Old Testament of 1844. This is very ingeniously shown by the comparison of the names of persons and places. For instance, the word for Israel in the Classic is E-sih-leii: in 192 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, Gutzlaff and Medhurst, it is the same; while in Morrison, Mike, and Afah, it is E-sih-urh-e-lih. So Egypt is termed by the Classic, Mih-se. It was rendered thus by Gutzlaff and Medhurst, following the Hebrew form, while Drs. Morrison and Milne, adopting the Greek pronunciation, express it by E-che- pe-to. It would consume too much space to follow this tract through its absurd but interesting length, where the author assumes the character of the Son of God. Our readers can find it in full in the volume above referred to. The Book of Celestial Decrees and Declarations of the Imperial Will is one of the least satisfactory to the heart of the true Christian among all that have been laid before us. It professes to contain nothing less than a series of direct rev- elations from God the Heavenly Father, and Jesus the celes- tial elder brother, to the leaders of the host, extending through the years 1848, 1849, 1851, and 1852. With these are given a series of commands or general orders from the chief to his followers. The unity of a God of infinite attributes, to whom all earthly kings and governors are strictly responsible, is one of the first truths taught in this tract, and taught on the al- leged ground of a special interview with the Deity. Then follows a celestial decree of obedience and subordination on the part of the army towards their leader, who is represented as having been expressly sent down from heaven by the Al- mighty to execute his behests. The accounts of the teach- ings of Jesus, who is said to have frequently manifested him- self during the last five years to the Chinese, are very strange. He tells them, indeed, to be at peace among themselves, and to avoid contracting feuds and enmities; to find out the way to heaven, and to walk in it; also, that self-indulgence is not likely to produce heroes, while the endurance of suffering will be followed by exalted dignity. But his more frequent exhor- tations, according to this publication, consist of such counsels as the following: When you go into the ranks to fight, you must not retreat. If you do, do not be surprised if I order you to be put to death. You must conquer, with united heart and strength, the hills and rivers. You should not go into the villages to seize peoples goods, and when you get money, you must make it public. On one occasion Jesus is 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 193 represented as scolding the people very much, for having se- creted for themselves what they had obtained. The object of this little volume is very evident. By inspir- ing his host with the faith that he is the favorite of supernal powers, and that his decrees are but the emanations of the iDivine Will, the chief adds a new weight to his authority, and makes assurance of their obedience doubly sure. To return to the active progress of the war, having oc- cupied the two great cities of Nankin and Tchen-kiang-fou, (the latter of which has, in our own days, given a title to an English peer,) the insurgents, according to their custom, paused for some time crc they took their next step. In the mean while, anarchy and confusion reigned everywhere about them. The old forms of government were superseded, but no well-working order had been established in their place. In fact, the policy of the leaders seems to be to hold on to any posi- tion they may have won till the pervading spirit of disaffec- tion, which is their sfrongest ally, shall have gained sufficient violence to enable them to find in the very heart of the next spot towards which they turn their faces numerous and active friends. Thus they have gone on slowly, taking here and there a town, till, in the course of three years, the wealthiest and most important provinces have fallen into their hands; and thus did they proceed from Nankin. Their residence there, however, was marked by one hideous blot The Tartar population of Nankin amounted to twenty thousand souls, eight thousand of whom were regular soldiers. The regular rebel force also was estimated at eight thousand sfrong; but they were recruited by at least twenty-five thousand militia, (if we may so term them), who had gathered around their banners from the disfricts through which they had marched. Almost the first thing these cruel men did, when they had the city completely in their power, was to murder in cold blood every Mant-chou they could find. No sex or age was spared; and of the twenty thousand within the walls, scarcely a hun- dred escaped. Occurrences like these we must now continue to look for until the close of the war. The bitter vengeance which the Pekin Emperor will wreak upon the rebels, should it ever be in his power so to do, may be readily predicted from voL. Lxxix. NO. 164. 17 194 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, the samples of his disposition towards them that we have al- ready seen; while they, in turn, have apparently resolved upon the utter extermination of the pure Mant-chou race. Thus far, the want of a fleet had prevented the insurgents from dislodging their foes from their seats upon the rivers and in the chief maritime cities; but internal treachery was has- tening to their aid, and on the 19th of May, 1853, Amoy, one of the five ports open to Europeans, fell into their hands. The combat was a severe one; and the imperialist admiral was so little discouraged by the result, as almost immediately to attempt a recapture. He was, however, completely repulsed. About the same time, the two cities of Chang-chow and Tangwa were taken by the rebels, and the imperial authori- ties there put to death. But the inhabitants, finding them- selves sufficiently strong to speak their own minds, positively refused to permit the regular rebel forces to prescribe to them either the men or the manner of government to whose con- duct affairs should be intrusted, and resolved, for the future, to govern themselves. On the 7th of September, however, the most alarming blow, which, in the eyes of Europeans, the Tartar dynasty had yet received, was dealt at Shang-hai. It would seem, from our accounts, that this measure was entire- ly brought about by the exertions of the Triad Society, ten thousand of whom were to be found among the population. Doubtless there was a secret communication maintained be- tween the rebel camp and these persons; but the latter alone undertook and accomplished the seizure of the city. Samgua, the Taou-tae, evaded by concealment the doom of his subor- dinate officers, and in the general confusion that ensued made his escape from the streets through which he had so often been escorted in all the pomp of Oriental power. But his do- minion was gone; and its fall struck new terror into the hearts of the despot at Pekin and the myrmidons by whom he was surrounded. From the mountain chains of the empire the hardiest Tartar troops were forthwith summoned to the defence of the royal city; while the vaticinations of his peo- ple reached even the reluctant ear of the Emperor, and their countenances, wherein, as in a book, men read strange ti- dings, pictured to him his approaching downfall. 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 195 But in the darkest hour of night, there is ever a symptom of the coming day. In the thickest clouds of despair, occa- sional rifts will occur, showing the far blue beyond. At this juncture, to the astonishment of all, the success of the rebels began to falter. This was partly owing, no doubt, to their distance from the provinces where their force had been cra- dled. The insurgents were not suffered peaceably to retain possession of the important cities of Amoy and Shang-hai. The former was recaptured by the imperialists early in No- vember, 1853, and a series of bloody reprisals immediately en- sued. The leader in the local emeute that had originally driven the authorities from the town was executed, and from the neighborhood around, all the known sympathizers with the rebels, to the number of at least one thousand persons, were dragged, in cold blood, to death. And at this time the insurgent army had marched to the town of Giuken, scarce sixty miles from Pekin! However, by their severity and power, the mandarins speedily restored order in Amoy, and things go on there just as quietly and smoothly, to all appear- ance, as though there had never been any insurrection at all. Such is Chinese character. During the whole of November, the rebels were spreading their forces in every direction in the more immediate vicin- ity of Pekin, and neglecting entirely the three great steps that were open to them, either of which, if successful, would have inevitably hastened the downfall of the existing throne; name- ly, the relief of the besieged towns of Shang-hai and Amoy by cutting to pieces the beleaguering forces, and the storming of Pekin, which would be the last scene of all to crown this strange drama. The imperialists, on the other hand, have dis- played at this crisis more energy than they had ever before exhibited. We have seen how they carried Amoy. Their next coup dessai was at Shang-hai. But this city, though be- sieged with all the power of the imperial forces, by land as well as by sea, has hitherto resisted, in every practical sense, all their efforts. In vain have they mastered the suburbs, and penetrated into the town: the rebels continue to hold out gal- lantly against their enemy. In the interior, however, while the imperialist fleet was en- 196 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, deavoring to recapture Chin-kiang-foo, the rebels were sub- sisting in great ease and comfort at Nankin. The French war-steamer Cassini ascended to this port during the month of December last, and reported that on her passage up she en- countered hundreds of boats, loaded with men on their way to reinforce their comrades at Chin-kiang. It must have been a curious spectacle to behold these people, as they eagerly pressed about the steamer, demanding the sale of pikes, guns, cutlasses, or any weapons of war, in which they were sadly deficient. Their heads were bare, their hair flowed in unshorn tresses, and their raiment shone brilliantly with the most cost- ly silken stuffs that the plundered warehouses of Nankin could yield, as they passed on with joyous shouts, as to a festival. And whilst all this was going on, and whilst their sympathiz- ers at Amoy were baring their throats to the executioner, the main force of the rebels had approached so near to Pekin that Tien-tsien was already theirs, and the imperial city itself was closely beleaguered. Indeed, it is not impossible that, ere these pages fall beneath the public eye, the news of the cap- ture of the capital of Hien-foung may reach this country, and the last of the Mant-chon emperors have hidden his dishon- ored head in flight, captivity, or the grave. To speculate upon such a contingency is not unreasonable; for while it is within the limits of probability that the imperial forces, relieved from the sieges of Amoy and Shang-hai, may retrace their way to Pekin, and successfully encounter the army of the Tae-ping, yet it is more likely that, before any such event can take place, Pekin will fall. Let us suppose such a catasfrophe to ensue; what will be the probable consequences? In the first place, the death or disappearance of Hien-foung a youth not long identified with the history of his empire, and without posterity capable of rallying the disjecta membra of his party around him will nominally put an end to the struggle. His line will be blotted out from the Asiatic Almanach de Saxe-Gotha, if there be such a work in that quarter of the globe, and the Tac-ping will succeed to what? To an unbroken, undivided em- pire? We do not believe it. It is probable enough that he may maintain a sort of feudal suzerainty, himself the ruler over 1854.] THE CHINESE REBELLION. 197 a splendid kingdom, and preserving a certain superiority over a half-dozen of less powerful potentates. But it is in the last degree unlikely that Chinese Tartary and Thibet will any longer maintain their present relations to the Chinese empire. These countries as large as two thirds of Europe have little or no sympathy with the rest of the empire; and, indeed, their allegiance has hitherto been preserved only by the con- stant presence of Mant-chon garrisons. We will put these states out of the account in the prospective arrangement of the empire, for they will naturally prefer the rule of their own native princes to that of strangers; and we may reckon on their entire withdrawal from the system. But the southern provinces, peopled by tribes mutually connected, speaking the same language, and bound together by the ties of commercial interest, will doubtless agree on some scheme of inter-adhesion. Whether they will be fiefs of the empire or confederated states cannot indeed be yet foreseen. Of course, in either case, each province will be ruled by some successful rebel chief, while their present leader, Houng-siu-tsiuen (the Tac- ping-wang, or King Grand Pacificator), will probably lord it over the most magnificent portion of the land, and, with one hand on Canton and the other on Nankin, effectually control the course of internal and of foreign trade. This man is already scarcely less adored as a divinity than obeyed as a king by his blinded followers. It is he who has prescribed to them the code of moral and political ethics which they so un- hesitatingly receive; it is no other than he himself, whom they revere as the younger brother of Jesus, as the second son of the Almighty God, sent down from heaven in these latter days for their express deliverance. As he is the man on whose fiat everything depends, it is proper to look at the institutions he has already established, that we may thence get an outline of his future course. Of the religious creed that the Tae-ping has promulgated, we have already spoken. Father Clavelin well remarks, that it is practically less a Christian than a Mahometan faith. The supposed Messiah of the rebels occupies the same posi- tion in their regard that the Prophet of the Turks held in that of his followers, as the favorite of Heaven, commissioned to 17 * 198 THE CHINESE REBELLION. [July, establish a new faith upon earth. For the rest, the Tae-ping seems to regard many matters with the eye of an Oriental sage. While tobacco and opium are inveighed against, great license is allowed in respect to polygamy. We are aware that this statement may surprise those who, basing their views upon the appearance of the rebels at Chin-kiang without a woman among them, hastily concluded that they must possess a very superior degree of celibate virtue; but it now appears that their wives were, for convenience, left at Nankin. Mr. Tay- lor found fifty thousand women there, belonging to the army; and Father Clavelin estimates the number, when he was there in December, 1833, at four hundred and eighty thousand. This enormous statement may be explained by the fact that the rebels have brought their families with them, not daring to leave them behind, without means of support, to the tender mercies of the mandarins. But it is very certain that the pub- lications of the insurgent chiefs at Nankin permit polygamy, and the voice of rumor attributes its extensive practice to the leaders of the host. Be this as it may, it is curious indeed to observe under what excellent control the Tae-ping keeps his thousands of female followers. They are marshalled into companies of one hundred, and brigades of thirteen thousand. Each lady-brigadier, as well as her subordinates, has her ap- propriate uniform, and always bears about a stout bamboo rod, with which she maintains order and obedience in the ranks. These women have their own separate lodgings as- signed them, and are governed with so accurate a discipline, that they are not unfrequently selected to perform garrison or other military duty. The point of polygamy is not the only one in which we find a distinct refutation of the idea that the insurrection is a genuine Christian movement. At present, with no organized church or priesthood, with the doctrines of faith or devotion given out as necessity requires by the head of their establish- ment, their prophet and their king, it is impossible for us to say more than that theirs is evidently a mongrel belief, born from a brain teeming with confused and often erroneous ideas of the teachings of Christianity, not unlearned in the writings of Confucius, and perhaps imbued with some portions of the 1854.1 THE CHINESE REBELLION. 199 faith of Mahomet. One thing is certain, that his abhorrence of the worship of Buddha does not yield to any other passion of his soul. From the combined workings of these different systems is produced a composite religion, built up of the most incongruous materials. Its only duties at present consist in the repetition, thrice in each day, of certain prescribed forms of prayer; but by and by, when the Tac-pings power has in- creased to an exaggerated degree, he may no longer rest con- tent with the salvo of artillery that now announces his perform- ance of his adorations, he may demand and receive divine honors for himself, and hear his name borne upon the floating clouds of incense, by the lips of a lying priesthood. Stranger things than this have come to pass, and may again occur. But when he is seated on his new throne, and the Chinese empire remodelled, we may look for the practical results of the mighty revolution effected by this obscure Canton teacher and they will be these. Unwittingly to himself, perhaps, he will teach us where to introduce the wedge, where to rest the lever; and it will not be many years crc we find European influence, hitherto so powerless in the high, exclusive walls of the palace of Pekin, operating with wonderful force at the courts of a score of kingdoms, petty in comparison with the great aggregate of which they once formed part, and all jeal- ous of, if not divided against, each other. Already the power and policy of Russia have tamed and brought under its own confrol those tribes of agricultural and nomadic Tartars who inhabit the regions beyond the Great Wall, and we may ex- pect to see Russian influence preponderating in the counsels of the states which may be formed from Chinese Tartary and Tibet. The possession by a nation subsidiary to Russia of the valleys of the San-po and the Upper Burrampooter can never be an object of indifference to a rival always envious of British rule in India; and when we recollect that Lassa is scarcely one third so distant from the point where the Burrampooter enters British India as Delhi is from Calcutta, we may readily conceive how little exertion will be spared by England to neutralize or hold in check the possible intrigues of her Mus- covite foe. The southern kingdoms of the flowery land will, however, fall undoubtedly under the immediate action of 200 MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF OOMTES PHILOSOPHY. [July, that nation with whose commerce, religion, and language they are already acquainted, and it is not irrational to suppose that, by perfectly fair and legitimate means, Christian policy may in time supplant the effete system under which those fertile plains have so long labored, while the present garbled creed professed by the expectant sovereigns, purified by the efforts of earnest and good men, may lose the grosser materialism that pollutes its nature, and, dropping as sediment the foul bias- pheinies which we have pointed out, rise sublimated into an evangelical faith, held in the hearts and living on the tongues of the millions upon millions of a prosperous, happy, regen- erate people. ART. IX. The Positive Philosophy of AUGUSTE COMTE, freely translated and condensed by HARRIET MARTINEAU. Lon- don: John Chapman. 1853. 2 vols. l2mo. WE are sorry, but not surprised, that Miss Martineau should have adopted the opinions which are avowed in the recent publication of her correspondence with Mr. Atkinson, and in this attempt to translate Comtes Philosophy and to render it popular in England. Her former writings showed consider- able ability, but it was the ability of an ill-regulated mind, of a mind working out of its proper sphere, and scorning all those limitations and restraints which indirectly help us in the search after truth, because they narrow the field of inquiry, and act as preservatives against the most hurtfnl errors. In her ambition to leave the common track, she has wandered wildly over the whole field of knowledge, and come to the most barren conclusion at last, to a belief if it can be called such, that there is no divine superintendence of the affairs of this world, and no hope of a world to come. The leading vice of her character has always been intellectual arrogance. She has never had any deference for man, and now has ceased to entertain any faith in her Creator; the only being whom she has never learned to distrust is herself. The very outset of her career as an author was an unfortunate one for the

200 MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF OOMTES PHILOSOPHY. [July, that nation with whose commerce, religion, and language they are already acquainted, and it is not irrational to suppose that, by perfectly fair and legitimate means, Christian policy may in time supplant the effete system under which those fertile plains have so long labored, while the present garbled creed professed by the expectant sovereigns, purified by the efforts of earnest and good men, may lose the grosser materialism that pollutes its nature, and, dropping as sediment the foul bias- pheinies which we have pointed out, rise sublimated into an evangelical faith, held in the hearts and living on the tongues of the millions upon millions of a prosperous, happy, regen- erate people. ART. IX. The Positive Philosophy of AUGUSTE COMTE, freely translated and condensed by HARRIET MARTINEAU. Lon- don: John Chapman. 1853. 2 vols. l2mo. WE are sorry, but not surprised, that Miss Martineau should have adopted the opinions which are avowed in the recent publication of her correspondence with Mr. Atkinson, and in this attempt to translate Comtes Philosophy and to render it popular in England. Her former writings showed consider- able ability, but it was the ability of an ill-regulated mind, of a mind working out of its proper sphere, and scorning all those limitations and restraints which indirectly help us in the search after truth, because they narrow the field of inquiry, and act as preservatives against the most hurtfnl errors. In her ambition to leave the common track, she has wandered wildly over the whole field of knowledge, and come to the most barren conclusion at last, to a belief if it can be called such, that there is no divine superintendence of the affairs of this world, and no hope of a world to come. The leading vice of her character has always been intellectual arrogance. She has never had any deference for man, and now has ceased to entertain any faith in her Creator; the only being whom she has never learned to distrust is herself. The very outset of her career as an author was an unfortunate one for the 1854.1 MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF COMTES PHILOSOPHY. 201 growth and discipline of her mental character, however flatter- ing it was to her vanity. Under the special patronage of Lord Brougham, then flushed with exaggerated hopes of the results to be accomplished by the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, and proud of the abilities of his little deaf girl, she undertook to teach the people of Great Britain the abstruse doctrines of Political Economy, mincing up this strong meat into popular tales, so that it might be fitted for the nutriment of babes. Considered simply as stories, her Illustrations were very successful; people were amused by them, and paid no heed to the grave lessons which they were intended to teach. As Miss Martineau presumed to treat them like children, they took their revenge by acting like children; they ate the sugar and threw the medicine away. Luckily for them, it was easy to separate the two ingredients, as nearly all the science was condensed into a page or two at the end of the book, and the little that was fairly incorporated into the story did them no harm. What was considered as the most pleasing of her stories, when taken simply as an ingenious fiction in prose, was meant to illustrate and enforce the re- volting doctrine of Malthus about population. We hold that it is an impertinence to write fiction for any avowedly didactic purpose, beyond that of inculcating some simple moral, such as the events of real life often teach. In Miss Martineau s attempt, impertinence and pedantry were combined. Her sub- sequent publications are characterized by the same spirit of arrogant self-conceit, and the same disposition to meddle with subjects which are out of her sphere, and which she is entirely incompetent to discuss. In one of her books, there is an amusing confession of her weakness in this respect. That degree of ~ she observes, which is commonly called conceit, grows in favor with me perpetually. Perhaps so; but as her first pub- lication betrayed an almost incredible amount of this amiable feeling, we hardly see how it could grow perpetually, with- out overshadowing by this time her whole mind and character. Her View of Society in America is equally a view of our government, our literature, our ecclesiastical institutions, the course of our legislation, and the character of our people. On 202 MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF COMTF2S PHILOSOPHY. [July, all these themes, she favors us with sweeping opinions, deliv- ered in as dogmatic and magisterial a manner, as if the whole Western continent had been summoned before her for a hear- ing. The Senate of the United States, she remarks, is an anomaly, and an anomalous institution cannot be very long- lived. She will not admit that what appears to her as faulty in theory can possibly succeed in practice. Vainly is it ob- jected that the Senate works well. The well-working, she replies, is only a temporary affair, an accident. Its radical change becomes a question of time merely. The successful experience of sixty-five years, during which time the institu- tion has certainly increased in favor with the people, while the people themselves have more than quadrupled in number, evi- dently weighs nothing against Miss Martineaus judgment of what is fitting and proper. The Senate is still doomed, and the judiciary are little better off. The appointment of the judges for life, she remarks in the next paragraph, is another departure from the absolute republican principle. So it is; and for this very reason, those who do not like absolutism in matters of government, whether in the form of absolute mon- archy, absolute democracy, or absolute anarchy, are strongly attached to the independence of the judiciary. Considering the ease and freedom with which Miss Martineau propounds her opinions upon these very grave subjects, it is much to be regretted that she was not made a member of the last Conven- tion for revising the Constitution of Massachusetts. She would have been quite at home in that body; and nothing in her speeches would have reminded her auditors of her sex. Certainly there is nothing feminine in her books; never was sex more completely discharged from style. She writes like a political economist, like a veteran statesman, like a philoso- pher, like anything but a woman. Not an allusion, not an idiom, not a trace of delicacy or faint-heartedness, not even a gleam of fancy or affectionateness, betrays the counterfeit. She borrows Rosalinds language, but acts out her part far better than Rosalind did. Were it not better That I did suit me all points like a man A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, 1864.] MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF OOMTES PHILOSOPHY. 203 A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart Lie there what hidden womans fear there will) We Ii have a swashing and a martial outside. We have no quarrel with Miss Martineau, and no disposi- tion to be very severe upon her errors and her failings, which surely bring with them their own worst punishment. But now that she has assumed to dogmatize upon subjects of the dearest interest to mankind, now that she has begun the career of an avowed free-thinker, and undertaken to teach the world philosophy and infidelity, it becomes a matter of some moment to ascertain what her opinions on these and other subjects are worth, and under what influence she has formed them. Argu- ment can have no effect upon a mind like hers, for she has never been accustomed to reason, but only to pronounce judgment. Her opinion as to the truth of the Christian religion rests on about as much evidence, even in her own mind, as the assertion coolly made by her, seventeen years ago, after she had had an opportunity to become acquainted with perhaps one American clergyman out of a thousand, and to converse familiarly with probably half a dozen of them, that the American clergy are the most backward and timid class in the society in which they live, the least informed with true knowledge, the least efficient in virtuous action. If Miss Martineau is not in her own opinion inspired, how was she enabled to speak thus confidently of the characters, and the results of the labors, of a very numerous class of men, scattered all over the United States, of whose very names, with perhaps a dozen exceptions, she was entirely ignorant? We are tempted to retract what we have just said about her suc- cess in suppressing all moral and intellectual tokens of her sex. She does betray a slight feminine weakness,one that would be expected, however, only fron~ women of inferior cultiva- tion, in using very sfrong language without any apparent consciousness of its strength of meaning, and in an unhesitat- ing expression of very hasty judgments. Miss Martineau s correspondence with Mr. Atkinson is chiefly curious as an illustration of the old remark, thatthe provinces of infidelity and excessive credulity are separated only by a thin partition. Unbelievers, says Pascal, are 204 MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF COMTES PHILOSOPHY. [July, the most credulous persons in the world; they believe the miracles of Vespasian, in order not to believe those of Moses. Mr. Atkinson and his fair correspondent go one step farther; they accept the marvellous reports of mesmerism and clair- voyance as a reason for discrediting both the life and the doc- trines of our Saviour. Such persons are properly incompetent to enter a jury-box; for they are incapable of weighing the force of testimony. Their estimate of what is marvellous and in- credible is not objective, but subjective; what is new to them that is, what has been recently reported, though it may not be very marvellous in itself excites their wonder to a far greater degree than that which is intrinsically much more mysterious, but which they have so often heard of and talked about that it has ceased to surprise or interest them. The best illustra- tion of this state of mind is the story told of the good old lady, who, when her sailor son was reporting to her the marvels he had seen, flatly refused to believe his story about the flying- fish, but saw nothing incredible in his statement that, when his ship was in the Red Sea, the sailors found, on weighing the anchor, that they had drawn up also one of Pharaohs chariot-wheels. This worthy matron, indeed, not having a turn for philosophizing, followed the natural principle of belief, by regarding what seemed to her most wonderful as least deserving of credit. But Miss Martineau, wise as an owl, inverts the laws of credibility; it is precisely because the silly fables of mesmerism appear to her more strange and unac- countable than the miracles recorded in Scripture, that she is bent upon believing the former and rejecting the latter. Prop- erly speaking, then, she is the credulous person, while the sailors mother was comparatively slow of belief. The rela- tive weight of testimony in the two cases the only ground of rational judgment is just what neither of the two women was capable of estimating. The blunders of pedantry are often more amusingly absurd than those of simple ignorance. The Preface to this translation of Comtes Philosophy is written in the defiant and contemptuous tone which appears so often and repulsively in the authors former publications. She is perfectly aware that the doctrines of the work will be painful and shocking to many who are incapable of estimating 1854.] MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF COMTES PHILOSOPHY. 205 its scientific merits. But she has no milder terms with which to characterize their feelings than hate, intolerance, theo- logical selfishness or metaphysical pride. One of the parties in the case certainly manifests intolerance, but Miss Martineau is perfectly unconscious that it might be charged upon her- self, though she knows that the principles of Comte may be accused of irreverence, lack of aspiration, hardness, defi- ciency of grace and beauty, and so on. No matter for such charges, or for the feelings of the persons who make them; they are no judges of the case. None are judges but those who have passed through theology and metaphysics, and, find- ing what they are now worth, have risen above them, in which happy class Miss Martineau places herself. She could not have defined more clearly the requisites for becoming a dis- ciple of the Positive Philosophy. One must trample both theology and metaphysics under foot before he is capable of appreciating its claims. This is what the writer of the Preface has accomplished; she has got beyond all religious faith by first divesting herself of all womanly feeling. It is precisely because she is an unsexed thing, that she has learned how to scorn her God. But we gladly pass from the translator to a very brief con- sideration of the claims of the work which she has translated. The general scope of the Positive Philosophy is clearly enough indicated in the remark which Sir William Hamilton recently quoted from its author, M. Comte. To those unfamiliar with a study of the celestial bodies, astronomy has still the character of being a science pre~minently religious; as if the famous text, The heavens declare the glory of God, retained its old significance. But to minds familiar with true philosophical astron- omy, the heavens declare no other glory than that of Hipparchus, Kepler, Newton, in a word, of all those who have aided in estab- lishing their laws. To one immersed in mathematical calculations, and habitu- ated to disregard all those aspects and phenomena of nature which do not admit of being reduced to numerical expres- sions and algebraic formulas, this remark may seem plausible. If nothing is real but what can be counted, or measured by a foot-rule, and nothing else can be a subject of mathematical vOL. LXXIX.NO. 164. 18 206 MARTINEAUS ThANSLATION OF COMTES PHILOSOPHY. [July, investigation, then there is nothing more marvellous in the revolutions of the heavenly bodies than in the regular move- ments of the hands over the dial-plate of a clock. Nay, the heavens themselves are but a gigantic clock, the only use of which is to tell the mariner his longitude, or the astronomer the exact time of day. But as a rational curiosity is not sat- isfied with merely learning the hour from a time-piece, or with the ability to predict, though with unerring precision and nicety, the exact position of the hour, minute, and second hands, after any interval of time, as man insists upon know- ing also how the hands are made to move, and why, or to what purpose, so all that mere calculation can teach appears unprofitable and insufficient. Even the child is not satisfied with seeing that his little mechanical toy works well and reg- ularly, that it nods, or cries, or lifts its arms or its feet just as he draws the cord or presses the spring; he insists on pull- ing it to pieces, that he may find out how it moves, or why pressure causes it to sound. So, also, to the enlightened and comprehensive mind, the heavens still appear enveloped with wonder and mystery; and mere mathematical calculators, like Lalande and Laplace, have not succeeded in raising even a corner of the veil. The infinite spirit, says Fries, does not limit itself under proportion and number. The play with number is an easy play; its joy is only the joy of the impris- oned spirit at the clank of its fetters. In this brief illustration, we catch a glimpse of the whole scope and tendency of the Positive Philosophy, and also of its essential insufficiency and weakness. M. Comte has en- deavored to extend the principles and the limitations of mere physical science over the whole field of human knowledge, and thus to pluck up metaphysics and theology by the roots. Starting from the acknowledged fact, that, in the material universe, we are never able to detect the nexus of cause and effect, but are properly confined to the observation and gen- eralization of phenomena, he attempts to get rid of the doc- trine of efficient and final causes altogether, and thus to reduce mind to matter, life to organization, freedom to necessity, and to construct a soulless and godless universe. Strictly speak- ing, then, the system is not a philosophy of any sort, but 1854.] MARTINEAUS TRANSLATION OF COMTE S PHILOSOPHY. 207 an attempt to destroy and eradicate philosophy altogether. It is not new even to the British public, as Miss Martineau seems to imagine. About ten years ago, one of the ablest thinkers of the day, Mr. John Stuart Mill, took it up and ex- pounded it with great clearness and precision, in his System of Logic. In Mr. Mills hands, it became simply a scheme of Inductive Logic, and an application of such logic to social science, or to an investigation of the laws which determine the condition and the progress of society. In this form, in- deed, it did not atfract extensive notice, because it constituted but one department of Mr. Mills great work, and the ability with which the other portions were executed, together with their unexceptionable character, caused most persons to over- look this needless and offensive adjunct. As thus expounded, however, it was rendered far less repulsive and objectionable in appearance than when first promulgated. Mr. Mill re- spected the feelings or the prejudices, call them what you will, which he felt constrained to wound. He did not fol- low out the system to its remotest logical consequences, and while endeavoring to palliate or cover up some of the conclu- sions from it which would shock the public, he probably suc- ceeded in concealing them even from himself. M. Comte and his present translator are far from sharing either his scruples or his delicacy. It must have been from harmony of temper- arnent and moral character, as well as from coincidence of opinion, that Miss Martineau felt attracted towards the author of the Positive Philosophy, and impelled to become the expos- itor of his doctrines to the English public. For dogmatism and conceit, M. Comte is unrivalled by any philosophical writer we have ever read, with perhaps the single exception of Hobbes. We extract a few sentences from Miss Martineau s translation,to justify this remark: If a comparison were fairly established between the first and