THE NEW~ EM~LANDER. No. CL VIII. JAINUARY, 1881. ARTICLE 1.HORACE BUSHNELL. Life and Letters of Horace Bushnell. New York: Harper & Brothers. II. IN the last number of the New Englander we began a review of the Life and Letters of Horace Bushnell. The distinguished eminence of the man, the originality and splendor of his gen , the combined strength and beauty of his many-sided char. acter, and the great services he has rendered to mankind through his writings, togethei with the rare merit and attrac- tive richness of his biography, demanded more than a brief notice; and we found the work growing on our hands beyond the limits of a single Article. Epoch-making men cannot be comprehended at a glance, much less the work they are raised up to do. What Horace Bushnell has done for Christianity and the world was the legitimate consequence of what he was; and what he was in his genius and character and life, was the resultant of two forces, his own will, and the divine movement within and upon him. Of these the latter was the dominant VOL. IV. 1 2 lflorctee Bu8hnell. [Jan., and all-controlling power. We have already traced this move- ment in the conditions and influences which shaped his life and genius,in the choice ancestral stock whose choicest qualities he inherited; in the wise Christian nurture and the natural and moral surroundings of his childhood; in his free and robust and well-balanced physical, moral, and intellectual training; and in the divinely-guided wisdom and faith hidden in his mothers character, which gently turned his way from the law to the gospel, and issuing in the free surrender of his strong and ambitious will to the higher will and purpose of God concerning him. Among these moulding influences we would not overlook that later but most potent one of a happy and divinely-ordered marriage with one everyway fitted to be his companion and spiritual helperwith which union and the instigations thus received he himself connects all his best pro- gress in truth and character. We have now to trace this divine movement as a spiritual power within him, leading him, as few men since Luther have been led, into new and deeper discoveries of divine truth, preparatory to his work as a theo- logical reformer. We resume the thread of his biography at the opening of his ministry, just after his settlement in Hartford. In addition to his regular sermons his luxuriant mind was constantly putting forth side-growths of thought on subjects that interested him or to meet occasions that called him. It is interesting to note that most of these did not end with the occasion, but either provoked discussion: and controversy by their novelty and force, or became the germs of other and more mature productions afterwardslike the banyan tree taking root anew and springing up a pillared shade. In 1835, he published in the Christian Spectator, an article on Revivals of Religion, which reappeared eleven years later in the second edition of his Christian Nurture, itself a greatly enlarged growth from the two original discourses, and designed to clear his position upon this point. His mind was so constantly teeming with new thoughts, and truth was such a continual growth with him, that he never uttered the last word, or deemed that the views already attained were final and complete. 1881.] Horace Bu8linell. In September, 1839, be delivered an address on Revela- tion before the Society of Inquiry at Andover, Mass. This address, which was never published, is memorable as contain- ing his first heresy, and awakening in his own mind vati- cinations of his future work and conflicts as a theological reformer. In a letter to his wife written just after its delivery are these significant words: I said something very cautiously in regard to the Trinity which, perhaps, will make a little breeze. If so, I shall not feel much upset. I have been thinking lately that I must write and publish the whole truth on these subjects as God has permitted me to see it. I have withheld till my views are well matured; and to withhold longer, 1 fear, is a want of that moral courage which animated Luther and every other man who has been a true soldier of Christ. Then, thinking of such men lately, I have often had self-reproaches which were very unpleasant. Has my dear wife any of Luthers spirit? Will she enter into the hazards and reproaches and perhaps privations, which lie in this encounter for the truth? Strange, you will say, that I should be talking, in the same letter, of doing more for my family and of endangering all their worldly comforts. But I am under just these contending impulses. However, in what way shall I do more for my family than to connect their history with the truth of Christ? How more, for example, for our dear boy, than to give him the name and example of a father who left him his fortunes, rough and hard as they were, in the field of truth? But will not God take care of us? These are thoughts which have been urging me for the last few months, or since the shock that has befallen my health. And I have sometimes felt afraid that I should be obliged to leave the world before my work was done. Shall we go forward ? The dear boy of whom such tender mention is made in this letter, died about three years after, of brain disease, at the age of four years. On this only son the father had staked his manly hopes, and the loss and disappointment was one that sorely strained his heart and thrilled with strong vibrations every chord of his spiritual being. It was a heavy blow never to be forgottenone which influenced his whole future life and character. This new and sad experience turned his thoughts for a time strongly toward the unseen world, and he preached a series of Sabbath evening discourses on the Heavenly State. These remarkable discourses were never published, save in meager reports or abstracts in one of the city papers, but the wonderful freshness, originality, and beauty of the views presented made a vivid impression on many who thronged to hear them, and to some the life of heaven has ever since seemed more real and intelligible. 4 Horace Bu8kr& eZl. [Jan., The next year, 1843, he delivered an address before the Alumni of Yale College, on the Moral Tendencies and Results of Human History, now incorporated in the book, Work and Play, under the title of The Growth of Lawa wide and philosophic survey of the growth of the moral principle through tbe various stages of human progress, enriched by abundant illustrations drawn from history and the analogies of natural law, and abounding in strains of thoughtful eloquence. The closing period of this oration, where he contrasts the noisy opinions of the multitude with the calm convictions of reason, we have always regarded as one of the sublimest passages of modern eloquence. As it may not be familiar to our readers we cannot forbear citing it: Have faith in truth, never in numbers. The great surge of numbers rolls up noisily and imposingly, but flats out on the shore, and slides back into the mud of oblivion. But a true opinion is the ocean itself; calm in its rest, eternal in its power. The storms and tumultuous thunders of popular rage and bigoted wrong will sometimes pause in their travel round the sphere, and listen to its powerful voice. And if the night comes down to veil it for a time, it is still there, beating on with the same victorious pulse and waiting for the day. A right opinion can- not die, for its life is in the moral element, which is the life of God. Have patience, and it shall come to pass in due time, that what you rested in the tran. quility of reason, has been crowned with the majesty of law. In 1845 the break-down in health threatened for many years, actually came, and his affectionate people sent him to Europe for a year, continuing his salary and paying his ex- penses. A voluminous journal, faithfully but hastily written, is the record of this foreign journey. Many extracts from this journal, interspersed with letters to his family, are given, all of which show a freshness and originality in his impressions of places and scenes that have since been done to death by literary tourists. We wish we had space for some of his de- scriptions of the Alps in Switzerland, the tour of which he made mostly on foot,but must limit ourselves to a single paragraph. In a letter to his wife, after a glowing picture of the Bernese Alps beheld at sunset, he says: I have had thus far as fine weather for Switzerland as I could desire, and I have never enjoyed so much in so short a time; my cup has been full to the brim, of wonder, joy, and delight in every shape. And yet I am frank to say that none of these things move me unless when I connect the visible with the invisible, and see in the forms of grandeur around me types of that tremendous Being who 1881.] Horace Bu8hnell. 5 inhabits and glorifies all. Oftentimes, when jaded and flagging in interest, have I found that a simple exercise of my imagination, which never tires, connecting what I see with some spiritual import, has roused me at once and restored the freshness of my spirit. His impressions derived from the study of art in Europe are thus recorded: I find I derive a benefit from continuing thus in Florence which is of a pecu- liar kind. I get more initiated into the historic movements and characteristics of the place. . . . I am conscious too of an intellectual and moral benefit from the study of art, which gives me the greatest pleasure in it. I never come out of either of the two great galleries here without a sense of refined and elevated feeling. I seem to have been in the best society in the world, and feel that I can better act my part in any society in which I may be cast. After a visit to the pictures of Raphael in the Vatican, he writes: The charm is the beauty and grace of the figures, that action without overac- tion, that perfect naturalness, which shows them to live and have a soul. The beauty of Raphael is that he keeps nature to herself, and only expresses what Nature wants expressed, without the least exaggeration. The most delicate senti- ment has its language. Here is a lesson in writing which I wish I could receive.~~ One of the most valuable of his letters from abroad, is one addressed to his daughter from Geneva, in which he gives an ideal of womanhood which we wish every daughter in the land could read, and lay up its wise and beautiful counsels in her heart. Returning from Europe in April, 1846, he addressed himself with renewed vigor and enthusiasm to his work. We now approach the controversial period of Dr. Bushnells life, when the religious ideas with which his mind was teeming were to encounter the opposition which all new truth is certain to provoke. The most important work of this year (1846) was the publi- cation of his little book on Christian Nurture. We need not review the character of this remarkable volume, or the con- troversy which followed it, as these are familiar to the readers of the Yew Englaadei. As we look back upon it now, one is hardly able to understand how so animated and even bitter an opposition could have been raised against a book so harmless and beautiful in its aim and spirit, and so thoroughly evangelical in its doctrine, Nor will he understand 6 Horace Bu8hnell. [Jan., this till he remembers how narrow and bigoted was the orthodoxy of some theological parties in New England in those days, and the power of a few leaders to foment a disturbance by working on the unenlightened fears of their followers. Perhaps, too, the whole secret will not appear without taking into account a more personal element, which enters into all theologic odiuman endeavor to put down by combined assault one whose powerful boldness and independence of thought might prove a dangerous foe to their opinions and leadership. These two discourses, like the theses of Luther, awakened thought and inquiry while they provoked opposition, and loosened the concretions of a too material and superficial theology. They were a revelation of how far the New Eng- land orthodoxy has drifted from the older faith and philosophy of the fathers into an intense individualism and an ictic theory of conversion which left no place for the religious life of childhood, and even emptied infant baptism of all its rational and scriptural import; and so prepared the way for an older orthodoxy and a truer phi]osophy of salvation. The main doctrine of the Christian Nurture, as iDr. Bacon observes in his review, was essentially old-school; though to many who thought themselves orthodox it was a startling novelty. ft agreed with the theories and the practice of a Calvinism older than the traditions of New England theol- ogy, and was commended accordingly by the most authentic organ of Presbyterian orthodoxy; but the book which pro- claimed it was remarkably new-school in tone and spirit. The author had ventured to discuss the relation of parental influence and training to the formation of Christian character in children, without taking pains to expound those formulas of doctrine about the nature and method of regeneration which were shaped by the hammers of many an ancient controversy.~7 This first experience of theological controversy, raised on such manifestly weak and unreal grounds, provoked him in his argument for the book to use strong and perhaps needlessly severe languageas Milton had done before him in the sacred defence of truth. The intense narrowness of a certain religious newspaper, and the persistent opposition and misrepresentation of a certain religious leader, seemed to him to call for a castiga 1881.] Harcwe Bu8hnell. ting rebuke in the name of justice and religious liberty. This he afterwards regretted, and the Argument as first published, was withdrawn, leaving the doctrine to stand in its own clear and beautiful self-evidence. But a still more~ bitter and protracted conflict awaited him, and the preparation and spiritual girding for it were not wanting. The publication of Dr. Bushnells God in Christ marks an epoch in the history of theology, and it was preceded by an epoch in his own religious experience. The nature of that experience is beautifully told by his wife, who alone at the time knew and understood it. She says: The year 1848 was the central point in the life of Horace BushnelL It was a year of great experiences, great thoughts, great labors. At its beginning he had reached one of those headlands where new discoveries open to sight. He had approached it through mental struggles, trials, and practical endeavor, keep. ing his steadfast way amid all the side-attractions of his ceaseless mental activity. I believed, he afterwards said, from reading, especially the New Testa. ment, and from other testimony, that there is a higher, fuller life that can be lived, and set myself to attain it. I swung, for a time towards quietism,~he read at this time Uphams Life of Madam Guyon and the Interior Life, and the writings of Fenelon] hut soon passed out into a broader, more positive state. In these studies, and in the devout application he sought to realize in his own experience, the great possibilities unfolding to his conception, the New Year came in. On an early morning of February, his wife awoke to hear that the light they had waited for more than they that watch for the morning, had risen indeed. She asked, What have you seen? He replied, The GospeL It came to him, at last, after all his thought and study, not as something reasoned out, but as an inspiration,a revelation from the mind of God himself. The full meaning of his answer he embodied at once in a sermon on Christ the Form of the Soul, from the text, Until Christ be formed in you. The very title of this sermon expresses his spiritually illumined conception of Christ, as the indwelling, formative life of the soulthe new-creating power of righteousness for humanity. And this con- ception was soon after more adequately set forth in his book, God in Christ. That he regarded this as a crisis in his spiritual life is evident from his not infrequent reference to it among his Christian friends. Even as late as 18?1, when we were alone one evening, the conversation led back to this familiar sub- ject. In answer to a question, he said, I seemed to pass a boundary. I had never been very legal in my Christian life, but now I passed from those partial seeings, glimpses, and doubts, into a clearer knowledge, of God into his inspira. tions, which I have never wholly lost. The change was into faith,a sense of the freeness of God and the ease of approach to him. His own statements made elsewhere, of the nature of faith, gives a deeper insight into his meaning. Christian faith, as he says, is the faith of a transac- tion. It is not the committing of ones thought in assent to any proposition, but the trusting of ones being to a Bei~,, there to be rested, kept, guided, inoulded, 8 Horace Bu8hnell. [Jan., governed, and possessed forever. . . . It gives you God, fills you with God in immediate, experimental knowledge, puts you in possession of all there is in him, and allows you to be invested with his character itself. This is what faith brought to him. Referring in a letter to the nature of this divine experience, he wrote, I was set on by the personal discovery of Christ and of God as represented in him. This discovery brought him into closer rela- tions to God as his personal friend,the relations of confidence and reciprocity, with the warmth and glow of personal friendship. Such an opening of his whole being to the light, had, of course, a marked effect upon his preaching. Speaking now from experimental knowledge and perception, it was the special work of his philosophic mind to set the inner experiences of the Christian life in rational forms, to show the reason of faith, and the orderly and fixed laws by which Gods most distinctly supernatural works are determined. We have given this experience, as related by his wife, in full, as furnishing the key to that spiritual conception of Chris. tianity which is unfolded in his writings, and which holds a his. torical and psychological relation to it, such as the experience of Paul on his way to Damascus does to his conception and preaching of Christ crucified. The key to his intellectual con- ception of it, or of the forms in which it is revealed in the Scriptures, will be furnished hereafter. Prepared by this spiritual and intellectual quickening, he was now ready for the work to which he had felt himself called years before, but had withheld till his views were well ma1~ured. It having pleased God to reveal his Son in him, like Paul, he conferred not with flesh and blood, but was about to declare his vision to the world, when unusual opportunities for such expression presented themselves. Invitations came to him about the same time from Harvard and Yale and Andover, to deliver addresses on important public occasions. The invita- tion from Harvard to address their Divinity School in July was accepted without hesitation or that fear of misconstruction which would have restrained most men then in the orthodox ranks. The subject chosen by him was the Atonement, which, as he remarked in his introduction, had long been hung up before him as a doctrine yet to be solved or rationally explained, till now at last the question had seemed to open itself and display its reasona? When the invitation came, he was at that moment projecting a discourse on the subject, and he ac- cepted the occasion as offered not to him but to his subject, and forthwith set apart one to the uses of the other. 1881.1 Harace Bu8hnell. 9 The subject of his discourse before the Concio ad Clerurn at Yale College was the Divinity of Christ, a subject previously designated by the General Association of Connecticut, while the preacher was appointed by the Association of Pastors of w1~ch Dr. B. was a member. This was delivered at New Ha- ven on the 15th of August. The third address at Andover in September was entitled Dogma and Spirit: or the true Revi- ving of Religion, in distinction from sporadic manifestations of the Spirit in revivals. All of these discourses were from the same text, 1 John 1: 2, and were the unfolding in different forms of the one doctrine of Christ as the manifested Life of God. In striking contrast with these solid theological discourses, was his Phi Beta Kappa oration on Work and Play, given between the two last, on the 24th of August, the day after the Commencement at Harvard; and the relation which it bears to these is well indicated by the title. For it was a play of the intellectual power to be likened only to a poem of consum- mate art and beauty or to a piece of exquisite music. If any wonder at the contrast, or at the mind that could execute such an amount and quality of work and play in a single summer, the explanation is found in the genius of the man. These widely different expressions of himself, showing two so different sides of the man, sprung, in perfect harmony and consistency; from one sourcehis abundantly living, working, playing heart. The profounder thought of the year, embodied in his three theological addresses, found a delicious overflow in the sparkling play of the oration. They are all the outcome of one strong inward im- pulse, a hidden fire which burst into flame wherever it found vent. It was one most n~table characteristic of his manhood that it moved solidly and totally under an inspiration, and that a religious experience expressed itself in him as naturally through a sportive exuberance as through the fervors of devotion. The effect of these three discourses on the public mind was disturbing in the highest degree. Ominous mutterings were heard from all quarters of the heavens, betokening the coming storm. The chief anxiety at first seemed to be concerning his theological position, since evidently he did not belong to any of the recognized schools. As Dr. Bacon has well said in his review of the controversy: By this time it had become evident that Dr. Bushnell was not a Unitarian. But what was he, and what was to be done with him? Here was a strong man 10 Horace Bushnell. [Jan., driving the ploughshare deep into the subsoil of theology; and who could tell what would spring up in such furrows? Here was a man, reverent indeed toward God, but with little regard for human authority, analyzing old formulas of doc- trine, searching what and what manner of revelation the Spirit of Christ had signified in the Scriptures, and with fear of change perplexing doctors of di- vinity. Could he be refuted? Certainly. Nothing was easier than to refute him by the ordinary methods of theological controversy. Make him responsible for all possible inferences from his language; call him hard names fished up out of the chaos of post-Nicene and ante-Nicene controversies, prove him guilty of dan; gerous complicity with Monothelite, Monophysite, Patripassian and Sabellian errors; and would not the refutation be complete ? Early in 1849 the Discourses were published under the title God in Christ. with an elaborate Preliminary Disser- tation on Language. Then the storm of theological fury burst. Nearly all the religious newspapers came down upon him like hail, and the religious quarterlies, each in its theological for- tress, in due time ranged their batteries and opened their fire. His book was assailed as unintelligible, and at the same time as teaching the most dangerous errors and heresies. He was called at once, a Unitarian, a Sabellian, a Patripassian, and a Pantheist; and it was seriously questioned by some whether he were really sane ;till at length the contradictory nature of the charges made against him, when fairly exposed, opened the eyes of some who could not see their inherent absurdity, and prepared the way for a calmer and truer judgment. How did Dr. Bushnell meet this unprecedented assault? He had foreseen the coming storm, and like a good pilot was prepared for it, trusting in the staunchness of his ship, and still more in the power of truth to withstand and survive all opposition. The spirit in which he awaited the onset is seen in a letter to Dr. Bartol a little before the publication of his book. I think I understand, he says, how much is depending upon it, and of course what my responsibilities are. Still, though it is the crisis of my life, as you intimate, I suffer no anxiety whatever as to the result. Not because it may not, in one view, be important to me, but because I am willing to trust myselg and can do it calmly, to God and the conscious honesty of my convictions. I have a certain feeling, too, I will not deny, that if what I am about to say should be stifled and killed by an over-hasty judgment it will yet rise again the third day. This feeling I have, not in exultation, it seems to me, not so much in the shape of defiance, as in the shape of consolation, a soft whisper that lingers round me in my studies, to hold me firm, and smooth me into an even, uncaring spirit. Still, the best of all attitudes, I know, is thisLet me do the right, and let God take care of me. I want to be in no better hands. 1881.1 Horace Bu8ltnell. it This sublime confidence, not in himself but in the truth, is also seen in the purpose declared in the Introduction to his hook, of never replying to the assaults and arguments made against it. It has been a question with me, he says, whether my duty to the truth would suffer the taking of this ground. But I have come to the opinion that replications are generally of little use, and that though the truth may be some- what hindered by adverse criticism, it will yet break through at last, unassisted, and have its triumph. Furthermore, the truths here uttered are not mine. They live in their own majesty. Ought I not, therefore, to believe that going forth in silence, having time on their side and God in company, they will win their way even the more securely, the less of human bustle and tumult is made in their be- half? This it is my happiness to think. Therefore I drop them into the world, leaving them to care for themselves, and assert their own power. This purpose, which he faithfully kept through all that storm of opposition and persecution, we regard as one of the sublimest exhibitions of moral courage and heroic faith to be found in modern times. That a man of his keen sensibilities suffered nothing from the assaults made upon him, the suspicions, misunderstandings, enmities, and above all the ministerial and social ostracism to which he was for a time subjected,when acquaintances would pass him coldly on the street, and ladies would bow with their eyelids, as he expressed itso intense and general had the odzum theoiog~crtm becometbat he could meet all this without feeling it, is not to be supposed. But he bore it as a man and a Christian, never for a moment losing his temper or his patience, or his lofty, serene, unconquerable courage and faith. It was the rare privilege of the writer of this Article to be in relations of friendly intimacy with Dr. Bushnell during this period as well as for some years previous, and his remembered uniform cheerfulness, the wonderful balance arid sustained strength and unshaken confidence of his spirit under a trial that would have crushed ordinary men, was something sublime. If ever the peace of God was vouchsafed in Christly measure to his servants in times of persecution, it was to him. Letters of sympathy from his friends caused him only to smile, as did many of the absurd charges and misun- derstandings of his accusers. Once, when riding with him from a meeting of the Association while his trial was in prog 12 Horace Bu8hnell. [Jan., ress, and after a provoking encounter with the incapacity and hostility of some of the other side, he expressed with some spirit his sense of the indignity; but checked his half-uttered indignation with Well, God is going to make some men one of these days Some men would have been driven by such opposition into an attitude of repugnance and solitary independence, or into the ranks of the Unitarians, who at least extended a social courtesy and intellectual sympathy, which his own denomina- tion did not show. But though abundantly solicited by them and other alien branches of the Christian family, he stood firm. Conscious of his own vital oneness of faith with his accusing brethren, under all seeming differences and misunder- standings, he would not be made a heretic, however he might be called one. Neither would he surrender his right of fra- ternal fellowship, so long as he was not formally and ecclesi- astically condemned. He continued to attend the weekly ministers meeting in Dr. ilawes study, and to seek exchanges with his brethren, not in any cringing spirit but to overcome, if possible their distrust and prejudice by a fuller and freer intercourse. The Christly wisdom of this course was in the end fully vindicated; and although one of his fellow pastors held out for years in a refusal of fellowship, he was at last overcome by the persistent and kindly persuasives to recon- ciliation offered by Dr. B. There can be little doubt,~ as one has truly said, that Dr. Bushnells calm and unretaliat- ing temper during these intensely trying times saved the churches from an unhappy disruption. Meanwhile his own church rallied around him with a closer and more loyal devotion, forming a wall of protection between him and his adversaries. They knew too well the vital sound- ness of his faith and preaching to be disturbed or moved from their steadfastness by the clamors without. The seal of his apostleship was in their own souls, in the lofty and clear and renovated Christian faith lie had inspired within them. The history of this protracted and painful controversy we need not pursue. Its issue is well known to the religious pub- lic. The Hartford Association, the body to which Dr. Bush- nell was ecclesiastically amenable, early took up the case, and 1881.] brace Bu8hnell. 13 after nearly half a year of careful deliberation, prepared and led by a committee comprising names as generally known and as highly respected as any in the American churches, and fully advertized of their responsibility by the clamorous im- peachment raised in every quarter, came to a final vote, seven- teen to three, that while his views were not accepted by the body, there was yet discovered in them no such evidence of heresy as would justify any further process. This verdict, though unacceptable to many of his accusers, and though persistent and oft-repeated attempts were made by certain party leaders to override the decision by transforming the General Association into an ex-parle council, or an ecclesi- astical Court of Appeal (contrary to the rules and principles of Congregationalism), stood, and stands to-day, a noble precedent and protection of religious liberty against factious clamor and unenlightened prejudice. The conflict thus fought, and the victory here won by this great champion, was fought and won not for himself alone, but for truth and liberty and theological progress in the years that are to come, and will be honored more and more as the years roll on. It is not our purpose in this Article to review the theolog- ical doctrines of Dr. Bushnell as contained in this or his sub- sequent books. Possibly we may do this in a future number. But we wish to call spechU attention to the preliminary Essay, or Dissertation on Language prefixed to his God in Christ,~~ which he considered the key to his book, and essential to a true understanding of it. It is no less essential to a true understanding of all his other writings, and of his style of thought and expression. As his biographer rightly says: Here is the key to Horace Bushnell, to the whole scheme of his thought, to that peculiar manner of expression which marked his individualityin a word, to the man. Whether these views of language be true or false (and the more they are studied, the more of truth we are confident will be found in them); whether words, especially th9se of Scripture, are to be taken as exact measures, or only as symbols of truth; whether they are to be interpreted literally and logically, or analogicaily, and by the spirit rather than the letter~ as we in- terpret all poetic language, will make a vast difference with 14 Horace Bushnell. [Jan., our understanding and interpretation of Scripture. The whole method of our theology will be determined by it. We have lingered so long on this central point or crisis~~ of Dr. Bushnells life, that we must hasten over the remainder. The interval of the next ten years, between the publication of God in Christ, and the final break down in health which compelled him to sunder his pastoral relation, was filled with an amount of literary labor and practical work which would be astonishing in any other man, but in him seemed to be the law of his life. While still in the midst of his trial for breath, or a right to it, he turned for relief and inspiration to the heroic strug- gles of others in other days. On Forefathers Day, Dec. 21, 1849, he delivered his oration, The Founders Great in their Unconsciousness, before the New England Society of New York. In April, 1850, he published his book, Christ in Theology, which was in substance his answer or defence be- fore the Hartford Association for the doctrines of his former book, God in Christ. This was in no sense a controversial reply, against which he stood committed, but as he says in the preface: My intention was not so much to defend as to com- plete my doctrine by a fuller exposition of certain points, and by a reference to the opinions of others and of the church in this and other ages. The relation of this book to the former illustrates the method of Dr. Bushnells study of doctrinQ, which is happily descrihed by Dr. Bacon in his review: The result was that his Answer before the Association is related to the vol- ume which it viudicates, very much as his defence of the christian Nurture was related to that book. In each instance (it seems to me) he first thought out his doctrine in his own free way, and then found himself assailed, not at all to his surprise, as a subverter of established and accepted truths. Iu each instance the assault seems to have put him upon a more extended study of what other men, whose authority on a question of orthodoxy, his opponents must acknowledge, had thought and taught on the same subjects. In each instance the result of his study was a discovery (as he maintained with great force of argument) that his heterodoxy was more orthodox than the provincial and comparatively recent orthodoxy which assailed him. . . . He acknowledged that as no real and sober truth is the want of any single man, so no pretended truth is likely to be regarded as anything better than a personal caprice or eccentricity, until other minds are seen to have been exercised in a similar way, and by rudimental efforts of one kind or another, reaching after the same thing. It was not a disappointment but a glad discovery to find himself more orthodox than he had supposed. 1881.] Hwace Bu8AneU. 15 Dr. B. says of the book in a letter to Dr. Bartol: This vol- ume has cost me five times the labor which the other cost, be- cause it has put me to the investigation of others, which to me is the hardest and most difficult of all sorts of work. But I am fully repaid by the additional strength and confidence it has given me. The reception of this book by the religious and theological public was singular and not a little significant, considering the clamor of opposition raised by the other. It was received with an ominous silenceprobably because of the excessive outcry caused by its predecessor. In August, 1851, he delivered his Address on the Age of Homespun at the Litchfleld Centennial Celebration, which was characterized by one who heard it, as a masterly piece of pious humor, designed to do what never before was done so wellto point out the obligations of our country to the social habits, priva- tions and domestic economies of primitive New England. His Speech for Connecticut, delivered the June previous before the Legislature of the State, was a historical estimate of her great men, and of her important contributions to the sup- port of national independence in the war of the lievolution. In the winter of 18512 he delivered a course of lectures or discourses to his own church and congregation on the Super. natural in the Gospel, which afterwards grew into his great work, Nature and the Supernatural. In August, 1852, he delivered at New Haven an address on IReligious Music before the Beethoven Society of Yale College. This address, which was published with one on the same sub- ject by Bishop Clark, reveals his wonderful insight into the nature of music and his keen appreciation of its power. In this address occurs a thrilling description of a music he once heard in the lofty passes of the Alpshis own voice, sent up amid those giant peaks of rock and ice, refined and redupli- cated as it is tossed upward from one to anotherwhich for beauty and impressiveness we have never seen equalled. Mu. sic was to him, as it was to Milton, an inspiration to which his thoughts and language and whole being moved responsive. This is seen in his style, in the majestic flow and rhythm of some of his periods, as well as in the interior organic harmony of his thoughtsin wholesome contrast with the dislocated 16 Horace I3U8knell. [J~an., and spasmodic style, or no-style, of some popular modern writers. In this connection may be cited a passage in one of his let- ters, written a few months after this address, touching the reli- gious power and uses of music: - . There is one thing I have meditated much since I left home, viz: the possibility that a new field may be opened in this truly divine art of music; that song may, or might, become ennobled, and enter into the world as a kind of divine power, enlisted in the interest of virtue and religion. That a lofty and great soul, fired with the eternal fnspirations of duty and truth, codid pour itself into mens bosoms, and become a spell of great and holy feeling such as never yet has been exerted by any mortal, I cannot doubt. Oh! if I had the voice and art of Alboni or Jenny Lind, it really seems to me that I could make a new gospel of it in men s bosoms, out-preaching all preachers, and swaying the multitudes to good, even to the applause of goodness itself, as a kind of passion. . . - Of the letters written about this time, one addressed to his wife while on his return from a journey to Minnesota for his health, is so full of beauty, and is sueh a revelation of his in- most life that we cannot forbear giving an extract. It is writ- ten from Niagara Falls, and gives his impressions of this grand scene after viewing it for the third time. I was never so deeply impressed by them before. It seemed as I came upon them purposely from a new point, that I had never before got their measures. I used to think, and sometimes to say, that the shores were bad, the surroundings destitute of interest and character. Destitute of interest! As if there needed to be some fine surrounding, some beautiful framework about Niagara to set it off! - No, Niagara is a power that forbids and scorns all surroundings; greatest in the fact that it is the one scene of Gods creation that suffers no adjuncts and will coalesce with nonecries Away! to them all, as trifles that insult the majesty they might come to garnish. . . . The more bald it is in the matter of surroundings, the more magnificent, the better we like it. Oh this pouring on, on, onexhaustless, ceaseless, like the counsel itself of God,one ocean plunging in solemn repose of continuity into another; the breadth, the height, the volume, the absence of all fluster, as when the floods lift up their waves; the self-confi- dence of ~he preparation, as grand in the night, when no eye sees it, as in the day; still bending itself downward to the plunge, as a power that is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever; wanting no margin of attractions to complement the scene it makes; making in fact no scene, but doing a deed which is enough to do, whether it is seen or not! Verily, my soul revelled within me to-day, as never since I was a conscious being, in the contemplation of this tremendous type of Gods eternity and majesty. I could hardly stand, such was the sense it gave me of the greatness of God. Then follows a wonderful self-revelation which lets us far- ther into the spiritual secret of Horace Bushnell than anything before written: 1S81.~ Horace Bu8ltnell. VT How little do we know as yet, my dearest earthly friend, of what is contained in the word God! We put on great magnifiers in the form of adjectives, and they are true: hut the measures they ascrihe, certified hy the judgment, are not realized, or only dimly realized, in our experience. I see this proved to me, now and then, hy the capacity I have to think and feel greater things concerning God. It is as if my soul were shut in within a vast orb made up of concentric shells of hrass and iron. I could hear even when I was a child, the faint ring of a stroke on the one that is outmost and largest of them all; hut I hegan to hreak through one shell after another, hursting every time into a kind of new, and wondrous, and vastly enlarged heaven, hearing no more the dull, close ring of the nearest casement, and the ring, as IL were, of concave firmaments and third heavens set with stars; till now, so gloriously has my experience of God opened his great- ness to me, I seem to have gotten quite heyond all physical images and measures even those of astronomy, and simply to think God is to find and hring into my feeling more than even the imagination can reach. I hless God that it is so. I am cheered hy it, encouraged, sent onward, and in what He gives me, hegin to have some very faint impression of the glory yet to he revealed. In the year 1853, having then been twenty years pastor of the North Church in Hartford, he preached on the anniversary of his settlement a commemorative sermon. This discourse, which was published, and is in part embodied in the memoir, is an exceedingly valuable one, being a review of his pastorate from the standpoint of his own experience. He traces the progress and phases of his religious thought as reflected in his preaching, and unfolds in a lucid and condensed form his real positions on the various questions in which his views had been controverted and misunderstood. While freely acknowl- edging the defects of his ministry (consciously felt only by himself) he commends in a strain of affectionate feeling the steadfast and unshaken fidelity of his dear people through all the days of accusation, and concludes his review with this avowal: 3 wish it were possible to speak of the way in which God has led me out of the difficulties and reserved questions which encompassed my early ministry. I will only say that Christianity is opened to me now as a new heaven of truth, a supernatural heaven, wide as the firmament, possible only to faith, to that luminous, clear and glorious. This one thing I have found, that it is not in man to think out a gospel, or to make a state of light hy phosphorescence at his own centre. He can have the great mystery of godliness only as it is mirrored in his heart by an inward revelation of Christ. Do the will and you shall know the doctrinethis is the truth I have proved hy my twenty years of experience. Here is, perhaps, the place to speak briefly of the character of his preaching during this best period of his ministry. Its VOL. IV. 2 18 brace Bucknell. [Jan., general characteristics of spirituality, intellectual force, depth and originality of thought, are seen in the three volumes of his sermons already published. But these selections do not show the immense range and scope and variety of instruction included in his whole ministry. He was not limited, and could not be in his choice of subjects to the special wants of his peo- plethough these were never disregardedbut the wants and outreachings of his own mind and the inspirations that fed them continually, seemed to be his guiding law. His mind was ever teeming with some fresh discoveries or new aspects of truth, and he must give them utterance while they were fresh. Thus, after what he terms his discovery of the Gos- pel, it is remembered by many how his sermons glowed, with the fervor of a felt inspiration, as he sought to lead his people on with him into the interior and higher life of faith and love. The contrast between his preaching and presentation of a great truth, and that of ordinary preachers was never more strikingly seen than once when a minister of some repute preached for him in the morning on the subject of Faith, from ileb. xi. 1. In the afternoon Dr. Bushnell preached on the same subject from the same text; and the effect was what might be imag- ined. The one sermon was like a narrow street dimly lighted by a street lamp; the other was a glorious landscape seen from a mountain top and lighted with sunrise. Most of his published works had their beginning, or first utterance, from the pulpit, and were preached as sermons be- fore they grew into treatises. His originality and skill in the selection of a text legitimately fitted to his sermon, has often been remarked. As a religious paper once said, Good Dr. Bushnell could preach more of a sermon in the selection of a text, than any ordinary minister could in half a days dis- course. A familiar instance of this is the text of his sermon on Unconscious Influence, Then went in also that other disciple. Another is that of a sermon to business men given for their encouragement in dark days of financial distress And when the ship was caught and could not bear up into the wind, we let her drive. Still another, taken from the nautical craft, is that of a sermon on Christian Ability, from the text : Behold also the ships, which though they be so 188t] Horace Bushnell. 19 great, and are driven of fierce winds, are turned about with a very small helm showing how man may use a small power so as to get the operation of a power greater than his own. His quick poetic eye for analogies and his profound insight in- to principles enabled him to see their application where other men could not. We will give only one other remembered in- stance, though many might be cited. He once preached a ser- mon for the encouragement of women, showing that their .readier faith was a proof not of weakness or credulity, but of a quicker perception and more willing acceptance of the truth from the text, And they went to the sepulchre and found it even so as the women had said. The amazing fertility of his mind and genius was not con- fined to religious and theological matters. Education was always a vital interest with him, and the public high school of Hartford owes its existence and its superior excellence largely to his influence. In March, 1853, he preached and afterwards published a sermon for Common Schools and the modifications demanded by the Roman Catholics. This is still one of the live and unsettled questions of the day; and the people would do well to listen to the wise words and practical solutions he suggested. One of the greatest practical services which he rendered to the city of his adoption and with which his name will be for- ever associated, was the creation of the public park, now fitly called Bushnell Park. The conception of this creation for such it really wasof transforming one of the most for- bidding sites in the very heart of the city, encumbered with all foul and unsightly nuisances, into a paradise of beauty which should be a joy forever, was one which only the eye and mind of genius could originate; and the practical execu- tion of ita far more difficult thing, against the unbelieving, conservative, economical spirit of the placewas what only a thoroughly sagacious, practical, persevering and undiscourage- able man could accomplish. The history of this enterprise is told by himself in his own inimitable style, and not without touches of humor, having been written at the request of Mr. Donald G. Mitchell and pub- lished in the Hearth and Home in 1869. 20 llo~ace Busknell. [5an., This beautiful creation, now crowned with its magnificent capitol, we have always regarded as a fitting symbol of the work he has done in theology, in clearing away encumbrances that offend the moral reason, and opening paths of beauty and vistas of delight through what has been to some an impassable barrier or a dreary and barren waste. This will be his physical monument, as his published works will be his moral and lite- rary one. But no such work, great and beneficent as it was, could long or really divert him from what he regarded as his true mission. This was, as Milton said of his secular employment, but the use of his left hand, while his right was consecrated to higher service. In a letter to Dr. Bartol written just after the struggle was over, we find him saying: This park matter has been a kind of revelation to me, which I pray God I may never forget. Why should I carry a park to bed with me and work it over in my dreams during the night, and wake in it in the morning, and yet be so little exer- cised in the magnificent work of the Gospel and the care of souls? Do we really believe that Jesus is a Saviour, and that in any significant sense he brings salva- tion? Thoughts of this kind have been working in me of late with such power that I have become wholly dissatisfied with myself. I thought I meant something when I preached Christ to men, but I see that I must do more, that I must have the men upon my spirit, that I must bear them as a burden, and hold myself responsible for them. God help me! Have we not here a disclosure of that great germinal thought which was afterwards developed in the Vicarious Sacrifice ? This higher conception of the gospel, born within him eight years before, this profounder and more experimental knowl- edge of Christ and his salvation, after which he was constantly reaching, shows itself in nearly all his letters during this period. Those written to Dr. Bartol while showing his Christian com- prehensiveness and largeness of heart, which could embrace in true fraternal love one of so different a faith, show at the same time how little that faith could satisfy him. They are full of affectionate criticisms of the latters writings, disclosing a radi- cal divergence from Unitarianism as regards the great doctrines of sin and redemption; of sin as involving a fall out of the principle of righteousness, and not simply a casual lapse or slip, open to self-recovery; of the whole scheme of virtue as grounded in God, and not in human nature; of a supernatural 1881.] Horace Bushnell. 21 redemption; and so, of Christ and the Trinity. If one wishes to see how far Dr. Bushnell was from being a Unitarianwhat- ever other heresies he may be guilty oflet him read the let- ters on pp. 219, 227, 418, and especially pp- 2312. The letters to his wife open a deeper depth in his spiritual thought and experience. One great question with him is, how faith can be revived, and a receptivity of the divine opened in human bosoms? Hitherto the Christian receptivity of the world has been closed up, or nearly so, by the jealousy of all that is supernatural. Men have been able to receive only a little of the divine, or none at all, lest they should fool themselves. But when they can attain to a conviction approaching the generality of science, that the supernatural is the necessary complement of nature, without which it is a meager abortion, there will be an opening of their bosoms to the divine as a general and blessed fact, the prime fact of existence. - - - Laws are the alphabet of our knowledge on the footing of nature. So far God will show us his way, and conduct us into his will. Then when we come up into the higher platform of faith, what is indicated but that he will open to us higher tiers of knowledge, as he is now ahie, and make us powers in a higher range of efficacy. Laws are not therefore broken up by the specialties of faith, but are only transcended. Or rather, we may say, that we are now exploring and searching out the higher laws of God, even those of his personal society and goodness These extracts will show the grand idea with which his mind was laboring, and which afterwards came to the birth in the publication of the greatest of his works, Nature and the Su- pernaturaL Before this was published, however, his health again became so broken as to require abandonment of his work and home for a season. The winter and spring of 1855 were spent at the South, in Cuba, Savannah, and Charleston, but without perma- nent benefit. Early in 1856 his mind was made up to try Cal- ifornia, and in February, shortly before his departure, he wrote to his friend, Mr. Chesebrough: I have been able this winter, for which I am greatly thankful, so far to revise and arrange my Supernaturalism that it cannot be lost. In this I have a great load thrown off my shoulders. How many strong prayersor weak, shall I say ?have I sent up to God, beg- ging for a respite in my disease long enough to allow me to finish this work! I have been heard, and my thanks a~e ~ joyous offering for the gift. 22 Horace Bu8hnell. [Jan., The experiences, journeys, and beneficent labors of this wonderful man in that land of wonders, as portrayed in his letters from California, constitute one of the most interesting chapters of the biography. Such a magnificent force, though in a frail and diseased body, set down amidst such mighty forces, natural and social, could not but work, and its working could not but be felt for good. We omit all reference to his graphic descriptions of these natural wonders, and of the social excitements then current, and to the work he accomplished in preaching and writing, and prospecting for a site for the Col- lege, now the University of California, in whose incipiency he took a deep interest. This interest was so fully reciprocated that he received from the Trustees an earnest invitation to be. come its presidentwhich he considered for a time, condition- ally, but finally declined. Returning home in January, 1857, in greatly improved health, he threw himself once more into his beloved work of preaching. The next year he published his Sermons for the New Life. They were very cordially received in all quarters, even those most hostile to his former book, and have been probably more widely read than any other of his writings. Yet they are but the practical side, the spiritual unfolding of the doctrines thought by many so heretical. Later in the same year appeared the book which had been so long the subject of his most profound and patient study, that for the sake of which he believed that his life had been spared Nature and the Supernatural. Of the value of this great work we may speak hereafter. Its scope and import do not seem to be yet fully understood. At present we will only say, that in our estimation it is the greatest and most important contribution to theological thought which not only this age but any age has produced. For it sounds a depth and reaches a height which comprehends the whole universe of being, showing its unity and relations as one system, and not merely the fractional universe with which science is conversant. lit finds a place for the supernatural within this system, rational, orderly, and subject to its own higher laws. It thus does for our comprehension of this systemmiracles and all supernat. ural facts includedwhat Copernicus discovery did for the 1881.] Horace Bucknell. 23 comprehension of the solar system. It is, moreover, the only complete and radical refutation of the modern materialism and infidelity, which has no possible footing if its positions are valid. The value and sianificance which he himself put upon it, b may be seen not only from what has already been quoted, but from what he says in a letter to iDr. Bartol written immediately after its publication, desiring to know how it was received, and what was said in Boston. I write you only to find what they say, be it good or evil. I have such perfect confidence in the argument of my book that I can bear anything. I cannot even conceive the onset that will shake me. The response was somewhat disappointing, for like all greatest things it was not, and could not be, at once appreciated. He was like one who drops a pebble into the ocean, and waits to see the circles spread from that point onward. But nothing was seen, for the fall was into deep waters. One or two Reviews spoke with admiration of the wonderful power displayed in it, while others carped at and combated single points which seemed to conflict with scientific facts and theories, wholly ignoring the great aim and scope of the argu- ment; like some modern critics of the gospel who spend whole pages in showing up the discrepancies in the account of the resurrection, but have nothing to say of the stupendous mira- cle itself. The time will come, we are confident, when the grand unfolding in this book of the one system of God will be accepted, like the revelations of modern astronomy, not only by faith, but by science itself, as the necessary complement to its sense-limited and imperfect teachings. It soon became evident, from the steady failure of his health, that he must relinquish his position as pastor of the North Church; and in April, 1859, he sent in his resignation and in- sisted on its being accepted, in spite of the urgency of his peo- ple to reconsider or retain his connection with them in some partial way. His Parting Words from the text, Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan him: but weep sore for him that goeth away: for he shall return no more, nor see his native country, were more like a funeral dirge than a farewell sermon, and fitly voiced the deep sorrow with which he parted from his beloved 24 Horace Bu8/inell. [Jan., people. Two years were spent away from Hartford, partly in the bracing climate of Minnesota, and partly at the delightful sanatorium of Clifton Springs,nominally in the pursuit of health, but really in keeping at bay by the force of his spirit- ual energy the physical disease that was upon him. That he was able to do this for twenty yearsand that disease con- sumptionis one of the marvels in the life of this marvelous man, and a proof of the supremacy of spiritual and supernat- ural over physical laws. His feeling on finding himself loosed from the relation he had so long and faithfully held, is partly seen in a letter written from Minnesota, where the iron as well as the tender- ness of his strong nature is manifest: So now we are fairly afloat, and without a home. Another sad thing it is, is it not? And yet the necessity takes off much of the sadness. We can do any- thing or bear anything with a good will, if only it is necessary. This strong master, pushing behind us, makes us brave and strong. The coward and faint hearts, I sometimes imagine, are all made by the fault of a necessity. After all, necessity, I have found, is a good mother, even the best. She has nursed me up to this time, and compelled me to grow. God forbid that I should now deny her motherhood! Let me have it to the end, and let it be the nurse of my children. For they will be, or become, only as she helps them, I am quite sure. Do not call this a bard kind of comfort; hard comforts are the best for us all; soft ones ruin us. His chief literary work during this period was preparing for a republication of a greatly improved and amplified edition of Christian Nurture. At the same time his ever-active mind was working a new vein of discovery in Christian truth, which issued, some years after, in his book on Vicarious Sacrifice. The first inception of this appears in a letter to his wife from Clifton Springs in January, 1861. Things now are getting into some shape in this great field where you know I have been toiling after shape for these two years I mean to realize my original, heaven-given thought of a book on the Vicarious Sacrifice for Christian Experi- ence, and propose to make it possible by a volume to precede, on the doctrine of the Sacrifice. - . . Call the one, say, Vicarious Sacrifice in Christ; and the other Vicarious Sacrifice in Believers, or by any such-like title. I have had some very fresh and delightful musings of the morning on this last. Following out the theme yesterday morning for two hours before rising, I seemed to be set on by another great stage in my hearts life. I never saw so distinctly as now what it is to be a disciple, or what the key-note is of all most Christly experience. I think, too, that I have made my last discovery in this mine. First I was led along into initial experience of God, s cially and by force 1881.] Horace Bu8knell. 25 of the blind religional instinct in my nature; second I was advanced into the clear moral light of Christ and of God, as related to the principle of rectitude: next, or third, I was set on by the inward personal discovery of Christ, and of God as represented in him; now, fourth, I lay hold of and appropriate the gen- eral culminating fact of Gods vicarious character in goodness, and of mine to he accomplished in Christ as a follower. My next stage of discovery will be when I drop the body, and go home, to be with Christ in the conscious, openly revealed friendship of a soul whose affinities are with him. God help me in this expecta- tion, that it may be fulfilled. At any rate I see now what it is to be a Christian, as never before, and that in such a light as, I am sure, is hidden from too many of his followers. Is it wrong to feel a desire of a renewed lease of life, that I may get ripe under Gods teachings in this way, and be able to add some light to the very partial light of our times? . - - This book, The Vicarious Sacrifice, like all his other the- ological treatises, grew out of his own spiritual experience and deepening knowledge of God in Christ. It was not a mere theory of the atonement constructed by the reason working on the facts and words of revelationalthough reason, especially tbe moral reason, was allowed a negative voice in declaring what could not be true(as the literal punishment of the innocent for the guilty)because contrary to the intuitive and necessary principles of right. But his profound sympathy with God and divine things enabled him to enter, as it were, into the divine mind in the great problem of human redemption; and to inter- pret it from the divine standpoint instead of the human, or from the mere letter,according to the method and law of in- terpretation laid down by St. Paul in I Corinthians ii. 12. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God, that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God See also verses 1315. We have already seen the germinal thought of the book in the feeling which he expressed of bearing his people as a bur- den on his spirit, and holding himself responsible for them. This spiritual interpretation of the work of Christ from an in- ward and Christly experience rather than by an outward and logical construction of the letter, is the essence of his heresies concerning the Atonement. His mental position relative to that of other theological thinkers, is well stated by Prof. Austin Phelps, of Andover: He honestly believed that in his divergence from the popular theory of the Atonement, he retained all that was essential to a saving faith. Not only this, but he believed that he retained more of truth than his critics did; his divergence 26 Horace Bu8Anell. [Jan., was no divergence, but only a deepening of the old dogma; it was a delving into a vein of underlying truth. More even than this; he thought that he was nearer to the fountain-head of the very doctrine which his critics were trying to conserve than they were themselves. In their imagined conflict with himself, he thought that to a large extent they battled with men of straw of their own creating. lie could afford, therefore, to speak very genially of his opponents. They were, in his view, unconscious workers with him, so far as they knew. The difference between him and them was only that he knew much more. His drill had pierced a deeper vein of purer gold. He had entered into the Springs of the Sea, and discovered the way where light dwelleth. They preached Christ, but he more profoundly. What then? Notwithstanding, every way, Christ is preached, and I rejoice. Such was his apostolic mood. For that final revision of his opinions which was the special work of his closing years, and which was embodied in his last book, Forgiveness and Law, we have also to go to his own experience. This, which was not so much a revision, as a deeper and further tision into the great mystery of godliness, was the outcome of his fellowship with Christs sufferings. He had sounded all the depths, and gone through all the con- flicts and fiery trials of moral martyrdom, and so was able to understand the meaning of the cross, and what is implied in forgiveness. In a letter to one who out of sore troubles had appealed to him for the secret of his strength and peace, he writes,and the extract opens a wondrous depth into his experience Forgiveness is mans deepest need and highest achievement. All the strong and beautiful things on forgiveness, which you so much admire in my books, were distilled in the alembic of my own experience. I have not had your trials, but my self-mastery was none the less heavy. I know what it is to have he purest motives, most fervent prayers, and most incessant labors misapprehended and misrepresented. I know what the moral whipping post means. But I have found Phil. iv. 13 gloriously true. What I have done, or Christ in me, you can do likewise. - - Kinghood over the vast territory of self must be in order to a genuine for. giveness. To tear yourself from yourselg to double yourself up and thrust your- self under your heels, and make a general smash of yourselg and be all the more true to yourself for this mauling and self-annihilationthis is the work before you, and a mighty work it is. To accomplish this, we must be close enough to Immanuel to feel the beating of his heart. By the time you are through your struggle you will be a god, fit to occupy a seat with Christ in his throne. Kings alone can truly forgive, as kings. alone can reign. You know the import of the Cross. Set your heart like a flint against every suggestion that cheapens the blood of the dear, great Lamb, and you will as surely get the meaning of Christ crucified, as that he left his life in the world. 188L1 Horace Bu8hnell. 27 We have anticipated somewhat in speaking of these volumes, which were not published till some years later. Returning home at length from his experiments in health- seeking, he settled down for the remainder of his lifewhich was prolonged for fifteen yearsin old Hartford ; not how- ever to rest, but to continue to work, up to the full measure of his ability. These years of broken industry and of his ministry at large, as he fitly termed it, are made the subject of a very able and interesting chapter by his friend, Rev. E. P. Parker, of Hartford. We wish we could transfer to our pages some of the eloquent passages of this chapter which describe the appearance and personal atmosphere of Dr. B., as they im- pressed his friends during the last years of his life, when the attenuated frame and wasted face were pathetically associated with all the hard-fought battles, splendid services, precious tri- umphs and merited honors of former years, and they have in- vested him with something of that veneration with which lov- ing disciples regarded Paul the aged as he stood before them bearino in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus. - - - They have seen the son of thunderlying in Jesus bosom, as the beloved disciple who best divined the Masters secret and spirit. They have seen him, if not in younger moods of strong proph- etic frenzy, yet in the higher states of a calm and apostolic in- spiration, when there seemed almost a halo about his snowy head, and his undimmed eye lighted with strange fire, his thin face became as if transparent to a light that burned on inward altars, and he spake as the Spirit gave him utterance. We would like to give some of his reported conversations, his flashes of wit and wisdom, his childlike and holy commun- ings with God, as they transpired in familiar intercourse at his home, or in vacation rambles among the Adirondacks; his meetings also with his brethren in the ministerial associations, of which he was the life and soul, and the pathetic scene attending the reading of his last sermon. But we must for- bear. These years cover the period of the late civil war, and the exciting interests of the country roused his enthusiasm and anxiety to the utmost,insomuch that he carried the cam- paigns to bed with him, as he had formerly done the Park. 28 Horace Bu8hnell. His interest in the great struggle was not confined to the principles and issues of it. He not only watched with anxiety the smallest details of every campaign and expedition, but forecasted operations in the field, and busied himself with all manner of planning and providing here and there, as if burdened with a personal responsibility for the conduct of the war and the direction of armies. His engi- neering talent and his conscious faculty of generalship were kept in continual ex- ercise under the inspiration of a patriotic enthusiasm that never rested or doubted. In an unpublished letter now before us, written just as the war was closing, he says: How grandly God is driving his angelic team, them that are called chariots! Let me live in this day and no other. I think we are seeing into the end of the most wonderful chapter of the history of man.~~ In the summer of 1864 he delivered the oration at the com- memorative celebration held in honor of the Alumni of Yale College, who had served their country in the late war,en- titled Our obligations to the Dead, in which he shows what great results he expected to flow from this vicarious sacrifice of our heroes on the altar of their country. In the same year he published two volumes : Work and Play, and the book of sermons entitled, Christ and His Sal- vation ; and in 1866 was published the volume he had been so long preparing The Vicarious Sacrifice, grounded in Principles of Universal Obligation, where, as in most of his other works, and even in his sermons, he expresses in the title the ground idea of the production. This was followed at in- tervals by several addresses and articles, most of which were published in a magazine called the ilours at IJomeviz: Training for the pulpit manward, delivered at Andover Seminary, 18(16, and before the Theological School of Chicago in 1868; Science and Religion, and Building eras in Religion, written as a sermon for the dedication of the Park Church. In 1869 many articles of his were printed in the same magazineone on Progress, and the series of essays on the Moral Uses of Dark Things was begun, which were af- terwards published in a volume with that .title; and another still Our Gospel a Gift to the Imagination one of the ablest and noblest of all his essays. At the same time he wrote his small volume on Womens Suffrage, or the Reform against Nature,a wise and timely protest against that pop- Horace Bu8hnell. 1881.] 29 ular but misguided and pernicious movement. During the same year he preached an extremely interesting sermon before the Connecticut Sunday School Teachers Association, the sug- gestive title of which was, Gods Thoughts fit Bread for Children,in which he warmly advocated the Moravian way of training children by the singing of hymns that center in Christ. In June, 1870, he preached the installation sermon of Rev. W. Gladden, at North Adams, Mass., and shortly afterward delivered two addresses, one at the Commencement of Williams College, and another on New Education before the Sheffield Scientific School, at New Haven. Besides these occasional efforts, he preached repeatedly at some of the churches in Hart- ford, at Dr. Storrs church in Brooklyn, and at the College Chapel, in New Haven. The same year he prepared for pabli. cation a new volume of sermons, which was issued the next year under the title, Sermons on Living Subjects. This enumeration may show the wonderful activity, variety and vigor of his ministry at large, and how constantly amidst failing strength he was contributing to the stock of the worlds best thought and literature. His last published book was the one supplementary to his Vicarious Sacrifice,and now included in that work as its second volumethe full title of which was Forgiveness and Law, grounded in principles interpreted by Human Analogies. This book, occasioned as he tells us, by the arrival of fresh light, which modifies without contradicting some of his former views, is in some respects the most remarkable of all his writ- ingsgoing deeper into the heart of the gospel mystery, and drawing deeper on his own heart and imagination than perhaps any other. This was the vox cygnea, the last song of the dying swan, who had been twenty years in dying,and its notes have not less of strength and more of sweetness, as if the vis- ions and harmonies of the heavenly world were already open- ing on his soul and inspiring his words. Another book was indeed projected and a beginning made under the title Inspiration; its modes and uses whether as re- lated to character, revelation or action. This work, which had long been in his thoughts, was carried on through several chap- 30 Horace Bu8hneU. [Jan., ters though without the expectation of completing it; and was finally abandoned as his disease and weakness gained Q~Oll him. These two unfinished fragmentshis Autobiography and his work on Inspiration, standing thus at the beginning and end of his biographyare suggestive of that higher and ampler life of thought and progress into which he has now entered, where the fragmentary but glorious work he here accomplished will find its completion. A chapter of Household iRecollections by his biographer one of the choicest in the volumeportrays the domestic side of this wonderful and many-sided man ;how he un- folded himself in all the manifold ways and endearments of home lifehis playfulness, his habits of study and exercise and recreation ; his early barefoot work in the garden with the hoe or axe or scythe; his excursions into the country; his lively and ever instructive table-talks; his family prayers and his love of music and hatred of dolls; his lapses of memory and the devices for helping it; and above all and through all, the abounding affection, ebeerfulness, hopefulness, and never clouded, all-quickening sunshine of his great and overflowing nature. A last chapter is added by his eldest daughter, Frances Louisa Bushnell, which tenderly and beautifully rehearses the scenes and experiences of his last years, from 1870 to 1876, and so closes the story of his life on earth. As she truly says, The closing years of Dr. Bushnells life seemed to those who knew him intimately almost as much the opening years of the life to come. Never was the reality of an eternal life which death cannot touch so manifest as in him; never a euthanasia so beautiful as his. As the autumn leaf is changed and glori- fied before it falls, without losing aught of its texture, so all that was human in him seemed transfigured and glorified, while the man remained the same. A few only of his latest utterances, showing how much of the divine, and at the same time of the human, was in him before the transformation was completecan here be given. In the summer of 1870, he writes from the beautiful home region of Lake Waramaug: 1881.] horace Bu8hnell. 31 I have had some delightful times and passages since I came here, such as I never had before. I never so saw God, never had him come so broadly, clearly out. He has not spoken to me, but he has done what is more. . - . Noth- ing ever seemed so wholly inviting and so profoundly supreme to the mind. Had there been a strain for it, then it could not be. 0 my God! what a fact to possess and know that he is! . It has been as if all the revelations, through good men, nature, Christ, had been now through, and their cargo unloaded, the capital mean- ing produced, and the God set forth in his own proper day,the good, the true the perfect, the all-holy and benignant. The question has not been whether I could somehow get nearernearer my God, to thee; but as if he had come ont himself just near enough, and left me nothing but to stand still and see the salva- tion; no excitement, no stress, but an amazing beatific tranquillity. I never thought I could possess God so completely. What is to come of it? Something good and gloriens, I hope. In other letters he has these utterances: What a wonder is God! what a glory for us to possess him! I think you know what the possession of him is, and yet it would not be strange if you could know him a great deal more and more easily. Here, in fact, is the grand impedi- ment to his revelationthat we make so hard a strain of it. What we want is simply to see. An unfilmed eye is the way. Oh, I long to be risen from the dead, and fully alive as I was made to live! Nothing now looks captivating but to be altogether entered into God and quieted in the inspirations of true faith. Oh, what a comfort there is in the fact that God is a supreme integer, helpiug us tip always into range with himself! He can put one down upon rest and give him a touch of the everlasting totality, washing and making white, promising to be a complete grace for us. I could have no hope at all but for this. God spared his life, as one has said, till all men were at peace with him. But peace from theological strife could not represent that inward, divine peace that filled him more and more as his sands of life ran slowly out. The granite rough- ness, the rugged pioneer force of his early days had disap- peared, or showed through only here and there, as the massive lnaterial of character; and the tenderness, the sweetness, the bearing and forbearing strength of his nature came to their perfection. One day his wife read to him the 14th and 15th chapters of John: Let not your heart be troubled, etc., and when the reading was ended he said, as if in the very presence of that wondrous scene: What a soft and sweet infolding of all highest thingswhat a soft and sweet infolding of all highest things ! 32 ilarace Bu8hnell. [Jan., One night, waking suddenly from sleep, he exclaimed, Oh, God is a wonder- ful Being! And when his daughter, sitting by his side, replied, Yes; is he with you? he answered slowly, Yes, in a certain sense he is with me, and then came a pause I have no doubt he is with me in a sense I do not im- agine. Soon after this he said, still more slowly, and with pauses intermingled, for he was very weak, Well, now, we are all going home together; and I say, the Lord be with youand in graceand peaceand loveand that is the way I have come along home. It was his dying benediction, spoken out of the almost sleep and exhaustion of his mind. Early in the morning of the 1ltb of February, 18~6, while the stars were still shining in the clear and silent heaven, Horace Bushnell passed away to that world, on whose borders he had dwelt so long. We have lingered thus longlonger a great deal than we intendedover this delightful biography, that the image of this great and good man might impress itself as fully and truly as possible on the mind of our readers as a livi~ng image, and not a mere secondary reflection. It only remains to give a very brief estimate of his character and genius, reserving to a future number a more critical review of his work as a theolog- ical reformer. If any one trait or quality was supreme in him, it was his intense love and devotion to truth. This was, in fact, the mas- ter principle of his character. Of him it might be said, if of any one since the great Teacher: To this end was he horn, that he might bear witness to the truth. He had a genius for truth, its discovery and its presentation, as pre~iminent as that of Shakespeare and Milton for poetry, or of Raphael and Michael Angelo for painting. And the comparison is the more true because like these great masters he saw and depicted truth through the imagination and not through his understanding merely. Only the truth he discerned was divine or spiritual truth, the truth of God, in distinction from that of nature or man. The moral elements of such a genius or powerfor they are moral and spiritual as well as intellectualhere chiefly con- cern us, and are most worthy to be noted as they are found pre~iminently in Horace Bushnell. The first element or characteristic of his genius was the purity and singleness of his devotion to truthloving it su- premely for itself, and rejoicing in it as its own exceeding great reward. This is shown in a reply he once made to a friend who remarked that he must find a great deal of satisfaction in 1881.1 Horace Bu8hnelt. the growing appreciation of his work. He turned, and in his abrupt manner replied with the utmost earnestness: The only thing I have any satisfaction in as regards myself, is the consciousness that I have loved the truth, and above all things desired to know it. This reveals the secret of his character and his power. Truth was not only his one aim and object, but it was identified with his being, was embodied and person- ified in this clear intellect and childlike character, as it has been in few men since the one divine man. His mind and heart were through and through of crystal clearness and sin- gleness, without a flaw of duplicity. The one thing felt by all who came in contact with him was the utter truthfulness and sincerity of the man. It was expressed in his bold, brusque, often impatient manner, which might pass for rudeness or self- assertion, till you looked into his clear, gray eye, and saw the love beaming there, and marked the mildly earnest tones of his voice in which not bitterness but only sincerity and strong conviction were apparent. This intense love of truth and impatience of all shams and disguises and mere conventionalities, gave character to his gait and manner and even his dress, which without being odd was singularly appropriate and expressive of the man. It gave character also to his style of discourse and his words, whether written or spoken. These were as original as his thought, not borrowed from the dictionary or from common parlance, but the very outgrowth and expression of his individuality. He was impatient of the verbiage in which many writers drown or dilute their thoughts. He used only the most necessary and fitting words, and his written style is a marvel and a model of condensed and vitalized language. Combined with this perfect honesty of vision and conviction, atfd with this transparency of motive and expression, was a total self-surrender to the truth, as worthy of absolute trust and obedience. As his perception of truth was clear, a simple reception of the light given him to see, his convictions and opinions were not a matter of will but an organic growth, in which he had almost as little cboice as in the growth of his body, so that he could not see or think otherwise than he did. This may explain that avowal which once gave so much offence, VOL. IV. 3 34 Jiorace Bushnell. [Jan., that as regards the views presented in his book he bad only about the same agency in forming them as in preparing the blood he circulates or the anatomical frame he occupies. For though a mans opinions are of vastly greater moment than his looks, yet if he is equally simple in them as in his growth, and equally subject to his law, he is responsible only in the same degree. Conscientiousness, or moral integrity in the pursuit of truth, was another characteristic. He had,to use his own expression, a firmly accentuated moral nature, which held him back from all looseness either of opinion or of conduct. The same moral precision which made him punctilious in the smallest things where honor or fidelity was concerned, which never suffered him to owe a dollar without knowing when and how to pay it, and caused him to meet the obligation when due with the promptness of the rising sun, made him equally careful of the truth he was set to teach and defend. While one of the most comprehensive, he was at the same time one of the most conservative of thinkers. The loose liberalism of much of the modern thought found little sympathy in him. What he thought of it is well expressed in a letter to Dr. Bartol: I am very fond of liberty, it is true, but I should not like to have the astronomic worlds put up in it, even if it were given them to go by their inspirations. Liberties are good, inspira. tions are good, but I like to have some standard forces to which I can advert when I get tired. Hence his adhesion to many of the severer forms of Christian doctrine which some are disposed at this day to discard. Thus he accepted the doctrine of future punishment as not only distinctly taught by Christ, but necessary to character, as supplying a tonic force to the grace and mercy of the gospel, without which it would be mere clemency. It was this conscientious love and loyalty to truth which led him to say, that he was determined not to make a new gospel, but only to interpret the old. Another central principle of his character and genius was faith. His own statement of the nature of this power has been already cited. It gives you God, fills you with God in irumedi. ate experimental knowledge, puts you in possession of all there is in him, and allows you to be invested with his character itself. 1 S81.] Horace Bu8Anell. 35 As a power of spiritual discernment, it gives also truth, not at second hand through words and propositions addressed to the understanding, but by immediate revelation to the spirit. This faith was the eye and soul, if we may so speak, of Dr. Bush- nells genius,in the truest sense the vision and the faculty divine. He had an implicit faith in his own intuitions as more true than any word or teachings of men, because they were Gods tuitions, a divine word and light shining within, which alone can read and interpret the word without. Hence his fearless rejection of whatever contravened these primary divine revelations, by whatever traditional authority imposed. His faith in God was so absolute and total, and his knowledge of God so immediate, that he could afford to discredit much of the theology which had been constructed by the reason or log- ical understanding working on the mere notion of God and the bare letter of scripture. The truest knowledge of God, as he once remarked, is that which a man gets upon his knees. It is not perhaps too much to assert that the true greatness of Dr. Bushnell consisted, or at least culminated, in his piety. The one lesson which comes out in every page of his biography is the essential affinity between godliness and the very highest genius, as well as the noblest and grandest character. If genius be, as Milton says, the inspired gift of God, the nearer to God one lives, and the more of God is brought into the soul, the more of inspiration and of genius he will possess,although the quality and the measure of the inspiration will be accord- ing to the mould and capacity of the man. Sanctified genius is not genius dulled or weakened, as some suppose, but en- larged, deepened, intensified, purged of earthly dross, and made glorious and divine; as a man is not less, but more a man, when the divine is superinduced upon the human, and he is filled with the Holy Ghost. The type of his piety, or spirituality, is remarkable, partak- ing the character of his mind and genius. It was not narrow and gloomy, like that of Calvinism, nor shallow and secular like that of the liberal school, nor yet sentimental like that of the mystics, but comprehensive enough to include all the spiritual faculties of man, exercised toward a Being too great 36 fliorace Ru8hnell. [Jan., to be comprehended, too holy to be trifled with, and too good not to be loved supremely and with all the soul. While he was no ascetic, the predominance in him of the spiritual over the physical made him keep under his body with a severity of self-regimen that was a constant rebuke to the self-indulgence of many preachers, so that he seemed sometimes not to have sympathy enough for the weakness of the flesh, or even of inexperience. We recall here the inexorable reply he once made to a young minister who was to preach in his pulpit, and who requested the Doctor to make the long prayer before sermon. His answer was: No; learn to whet your own scythe. He was emphatically one who like Paul, worshiped God in the spirit, and rejoiced in Christ Jesus, and had no confidence in the flesh. One marked feature of his piety was the freedom yet eleva- tion of his converse with God. He found society in this con- verse, as the greatest poets have found society in Nature. In his first letter from California he writes to his wife: I have been much alone as regards men on the way, but I have not been solitary. The day and night have been full of God, and with him I have both waked and slept. One has remarked of his prayers, that he prayed as if speaking to some one within hearing, and as if that one were listening. He himself says in his notes on Prayer that he fell into a habit of talk- ing with God, which became so natural that he often does it without thought. I talk myself, often, to sleep at night, and open the morning talking, as it were. It is not supplication or ejaculation or adoration, but a friendly way of contemplation and personal intercourse. In this respect he resembles two men not much like him in other respects, Jonathan Edwards and St. Augustine, whose wonderful Confessions are written talks with God in a strain of devout familiarity. Did space permit we would like to speak of the intellectual side of his genius, so far as this can be distinguished from the spiritual, with which it was almost identical. The order and quality of his mind was as rare as his piety was profound. This was pre~iminently intuitional, not logical or ratiocinative, that order of intellect which is represented by Plato among the ancients, by St. John among the Apostles, and by Cole- 1881.] Horace Bucknell. 37 ridge among the moderns. His apprehension of truth was a direct and immediate beholding, not any second-band or no- tional knowledge. He did not arrive at truth by any logical processes (for logic never yet discovered truth, and was held in small esteem by him), or by means of words and definitions, but by spiritual insight. Then, having the truth or idea, he created words to embody and express it,for no otherwise can his bold and masterly use of language be described. Like all highest and deepest thinkers, he was essentially a poet. Imagination was his great faculty, combined with spiritual insight, enabling him first of all to see, and then to express in living symbols visions of God and divine things. Like John and Plato there is something mystical in the far-reaching depth and subtlety of his thought, transcending the firm grasp of reason, but felt by his keenly alive and tremulously sensitive spirit Like those astronomers who have felt out new planets whose presence was apprehended before they were detected by the telescope, this profound spiritual thinker felt out and dis- closed to the church new truths in the firmament of revelation, not discoverable by the reason, yet necessary to a perfect the- ology. Many comparisons have been drawn between him and other original thinkers and writers, none of which hold save in a few particulars. He resembled Emerson in the freshness and beauty of his intuitions, but excelled him in the sustained vigor and grandeur of his thought, besides drawing deeper from the great source of inspiration, and penetrating further into the realms of spiritual truth. He has been compared also with Carlyle, whom he resembles in the under force and moral earnestness of his utterance, but without his jagged roughness and moroseness. In the lofty tone and quality of his mind he more resembled Milton, as well as in the resonance and rhythm of his style. There is also something Shakespearean in the vigor and creativeness of his thought as it clothes itself in language, producing a style that is unique in theological litera- ture. Like Shakespeare he thinks in figures or symbols, as nature in its creations, and not in abstractions derived from them. His style is therefore as fresh and original as his thought, because it is its immediate creation and embodiment, 38 Horace Bu8hnell. [Jan., moulded to its form, flavored and toned with its spiritual quality, and winged with its soaring and exulting spirit. Hence the poetic fervor and beauty of many of his sentences, which are alive not more with thought than poetry, and are as impossible to be imitated as those of Milton and Shakespeae. Of his more personal qualities, and the impressions pro- duced by personal intercourse with him, something has al- ready been said in this review, and the biography furnishes abundant and most interesting details. We might speak of the magnetic and quickening atmosphere which surrounded him and was felt by all who came within its circle,a stimulat- ing but sweet and uplifting influence, as if a purer light, a serener wisdom, and a larger love and sympathy were around them, which made one feel wonderfully at home with him and yet lifted above themselves, and consciously nearer the heaven of truth and peace in which he seemed to dwell. Of the repel- ling power of self-consequence, common to some would-be great men, he had not a particle. He disliked the honoiary titles attached to his name, and once expressed his thanks to the writer, while acknowledging the dedication of a book to him, for leaving off the baggage. He seemed as uncon- scious of his own greatness as a little child, and with a childs heart entered into eager and loving sympathy with the world into which he was born, and in which he found himself a liv- ing power. He had, too, a childs faith, and humility, and hopefulness, and cheerfulness of spirit. He once said in con- versation, The most wonderful thing I know, is Gods pa- tieiace towards me,a feeling that doubtless suggested his wonderful sermon on the Gentleness of God. Unlike most men of such a spiritual order of mind, he had a large humanity, and took a living practical interest in men and things. Indeed the practical side of his character was as remarkable as the intellectual and spiritual. There was hardly any form of manual work or mechanical skill with which he was not practically familiar. He might have been an archi- tect, an engineer, or an inventor, if he had not been a theo- logian. His quick penetrating intellect saw through the most complicated machinery as it did through the most abstruse metaphysical and theological problems, and reconstructed it 1881.] Horace Bu8knell. 39 anew in his thoughts. What his creative genius accomplished for the city of Hartford, in the beautiful park which is its noblest ornament, has already been told. One of the rewards of this labor, which affbrded him the purest delight, was wit- nessing in his walks upon it during his invalid days, the enjoyment of the populace, who l)assed him without knowing their great benefactor. Another reward, and one of the most gratifying honors ever bestowed on him was the last, when on his death bed, and almost past consciousness, the action of the city council was conveyed to him by which the park was named Bushnell Park. He signified by a smile his under- standing and appreciation of the honor thus conferred, as his wife beautifully expressed it in her letter of acknowledgment turning back, as it were, from the celestial gate he was enter- ing, to take this laurel from the hand of his beloved city. And so, this great and good man, this glorious mind, has entered into his rest,a rest, let us believe, not from activity, least of all from thought and contemplation, but into a grander, more glorious, triumphant activity, where work and play, activity and repose, service and reward, are one and inseparable forever. What place he will hold hereafter in the pantheon of litera- ture and theological thought it may be premature to attempt to say. But the conviction that remains after the closest acquaintance, and the most careful study of the man and his works, is that a grander intellect and a purer soul has not ap- peared on this earth since Milton left it. 40 Bctyard Taylors Pos(humou8 Books. [Jan., ARTICLE IJ.BAYARD TAYLORS POSTHUMOUS BOOKS. Studies in German Literature. By BAYARD TAYLOR. With an Tntroduction by George H. Boker. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons. 1879. Pp. viii, 418. Critical L%says and Literary Notes. By BAYARD TAYLOR. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons. 1880. Pp. 382. IN the fullest sense neither of these books is posthumous. The earlier volume consists of lectures, all of which had been read before the students of Cornell University and some of which had been delivered in various cities of the country. They had however not been laid before the general public, and in this respect differ from the essays and notes now collected for the first time from the various periodicals and papers to which the author was a contributor. It was fitting both that the lectures should be made generally accessible and that Tay. brs mature criticism should be collected into a permanent volume. The perusal of both books will strongly confirm the impression which for a long time has been general that Taylor was an indefatigable worker, and had embraced in his life a wide variety of activities. If one forgets that he was a tray- eler, a linguist, a journalist, and a poet, and looks simply at the work which he did as a student of literature, one cannot help being struck by the thoroughness and scope of his knowledge of modern authors. He had mastered the German language, as few native Americans master it, and these volumes show that the fine lines of German thought were as familiar to him as the difficult vocabulary and intricate constructions of the language. One might conjecture from his frequent references to Carlyle that he caught something of the enthusiasm for German which this author diffused among English readers years ago. But however he gained his love for German, it remained in him a vital force until his death. His most loving work was expended on the German, and however securely he kept himself familiar with all new French and English li tera

40 Bctyard Taylors Pos(humou8 Books. [Jan., ARTICLE IJ.BAYARD TAYLORS POSTHUMOUS BOOKS. Studies in German Literature. By BAYARD TAYLOR. With an Tntroduction by George H. Boker. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons. 1879. Pp. viii, 418. Critical L%says and Literary Notes. By BAYARD TAYLOR. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons. 1880. Pp. 382. IN the fullest sense neither of these books is posthumous. The earlier volume consists of lectures, all of which had been read before the students of Cornell University and some of which had been delivered in various cities of the country. They had however not been laid before the general public, and in this respect differ from the essays and notes now collected for the first time from the various periodicals and papers to which the author was a contributor. It was fitting both that the lectures should be made generally accessible and that Tay. brs mature criticism should be collected into a permanent volume. The perusal of both books will strongly confirm the impression which for a long time has been general that Taylor was an indefatigable worker, and had embraced in his life a wide variety of activities. If one forgets that he was a tray- eler, a linguist, a journalist, and a poet, and looks simply at the work which he did as a student of literature, one cannot help being struck by the thoroughness and scope of his knowledge of modern authors. He had mastered the German language, as few native Americans master it, and these volumes show that the fine lines of German thought were as familiar to him as the difficult vocabulary and intricate constructions of the language. One might conjecture from his frequent references to Carlyle that he caught something of the enthusiasm for German which this author diffused among English readers years ago. But however he gained his love for German, it remained in him a vital force until his death. His most loving work was expended on the German, and however securely he kept himself familiar with all new French and English li tera 1881.] Bayard Taylo1~8 Po8thumous Boolc8. 41 ture, one sees that the German mind was to him the most fascinating; that its thoroughness, its strength, its Titanism (to use a much-abused word) on the one hand and its tender sentiment on the other, always offered him the freshest fields and the newest pastures. It may be a question whether this fact, that he did so much exalt German literature and appar- ently resented so keenly any statement disparaging it as com- pared with other literatures does not itself imply a little defect in respect to the appreciation of form in literature. This is substantially suggesting the charge which he justly brings against Carlyle and Richter in his admirable lecture on the latter. However this question may be answered (and to ask it is certainly not to answer it, and any fair answer would have to take into account the love which one always has for the most familiar), that Taylor with his desultory training should have mastered the German language and have entered into the secret of German thought, should in addition to all else that he did have become an authority on German litera- ture was an achievement that deserves not to be forgotten. Of this achievement, its certainty and thoroughness, these books and especially the earlier give abundant testimony. Whether one concedes or not the supreme claim that has been made for Taylors translation of Faust, one finds in the lectures on Goethe and Goethes Faust evidence enough of good analysis and artistic sympathy, of nice perception both of details and of their adjustment to one another in organic relations. A great many persons have written on Goethe and especially on Faust that know little or nothing of either. A great many have re-stated what others had previously said. Taylor had read not merely about Goethe. He had read him conscientiously and intelligently; the years that he spent in making the translation of Faust were years of careful study and one sees the honest result of that study in these two lectures. From the beginning of the first lecture we see the touch of a masters hand, which is, however, perhaps more masterly in the analysis of literature than in defining the relations of lan- guage. The supposition made (p. 5) that Gothic is the legitimate mother of old German is a position often taken, 42 Bctyard Taylor8 Po8thun-wus Boolce. [Jan., but hardly defines the exact relationship. It is a point of no great significance for the student of literature, but it is more commonly held now that the relationship is not one of such direct and immediate descent. So when the author (p. 108) remarks in speaking of the Nibelungenlied that he has never been able to see the necessity of the translations into modern German, and it is natural to infer that he would include the necessity of a dictionary for translation, one is inclined to doubt if in the fine shades of the poem some things would not escape the ordinary reader, who discarded dictionary and translation. Many words in middle German have a meaning so directly opposite to that of the modern German; the lan- guage has as a whole so concrete and preeminently a sensuous character that it has long passed among scholars in Germany as no mean acquisition to be a master of the middle German. The writer remembers once hearing Miillenhoff say that the mastery of middle German which Lachmann and Haupt ac- quired was of great service to them in their classical studies. His idea was that the fine insight trained in discerning the differences between the middle and modern German unlocked for them many secret doors in Latin that even good classical scholars would not notice. It is of course true that the lite- rary perception of a man like Taylor would have an advantage over that of ordinary readers, and that many times the connec- tion would show that a word had a meaning unlike that of the same word in modern German and would go far towards show- ing what that meaning might be. But a word like versprec/zen, which in the Nibelungenlied has so uniformly the meaning of to decline or refuse would not at first sight certainly dis- close its idea. Still less would genesen in every case be plain, as in modern German it means to recover, whereas in middle German it often has a meaning similar enough to make the unlearned reader believe the signification quite the same, whereas it is very different. In the earlier language of the Nibelungenlied it often signifies to get off with ones life, or to survive. But for all this there is hardly a better account of the Nibelungenlied for readers of English than this by Taylor. Nor has the author missed the main points of the true greatness of Wolfram, His nobleness of nature, his reflection7 1881.] Bagard ]iaylor8 Po8thunwu8 Book8. 43 his quick perception, his grave and lofty intelligence are well noted. But it is possible that the author in his desire to make out in Wolfram a complete contrast to Gottfried overlooks the delight that Wolfram. has in nature, and the constant, realistic use he makes of natural objects to render his conceptions con- crete, and the droll, often grotesque humor that his compari- sons exhibit. The very introduction to the Parzival which Taylor quotes has one of these touches. This flying illustration is too swift for inexperienced per- sons. They cannot make it out since it makes a dart off to the side like a frightened hare. It is the mastery of a thought by an inexperienced person that is here compared to the cap- ture of a frightened hare by a person walking without any implements. In the eighth book of the Parzival, Wolfram, speaking of Antikonie, says inter virrec als em valkensehe was balsamma3zec st~ete an ir. Widespread as a falcon can see was diffused from her (presence) a balsam-like steadiness. Wolfram is full of this delight in nature, this absorption of all natural objects, and in this as well as in his humor is apparent his affinity with Goethe. This affinity of Wolfram with Goethe Taylor notices very aptly, but he does not emphasize or even mention that particular element of it connected with this enjoy- ment and management of nature in their writings. When Taylor (Studies in German Literature, p. 333) says: In the poetic appreciation of nature Goethe has scarcely an equal among modern authors, every body must agree with him. But equally true is what Herman Grimm says of Wolfram: He, among the Germans, is the greatest representer of nature, the one who with the least material produces the greatest re- sults. That Goethe ever read or even heard a line of Wol- fram is not probable, so that not the least inspiration ever came to him from that source, and any praise of Wolfram in this particular does not detract from Goethe. But the trait in Wolfram is well worth mentioning because it is so purely Ger- manic. Taylor aptly characterizes one phase of this love for 44 Bagard Taylor8 Postkumou8 Book8. [Jan., nature as Germanic in a reported conversation with Ritekert (Essays and Notes, p. 109): I remarked the special capacity of the German for descriptions of forest-scenery, for the feeling and sentiment of deep, dark woods, and woodland solitudes. In confirmation and explanation of Taylors insight here may be quoted the statement of the eminent Jacob Grimm that all the German words for a temple run back to some root denot- ing a grove. One might follow down through these various lectures and note the bright glimpses which they present here and there of the development of the German mind. The literature of the reformation and of the seventeenth century is briefly treated, but Lessing again stands out in fuller proportions and is pre- sented in a satisfactory way. Perhaps, however, it leaves hardly an exact impression to say, He was accused of being a gambler; but the facts of his life are the best answer to the charge. There can be no doubt, if his best biographers are to be believed, that Lessing was fond of the excitement of stak- ing money in lotteries at least. Perhaps it was one of his maxims as of the parson-poet Rebel, not to close any door through which Fortnne might enter. That Lessing was a gambler in a low sense is of course a calumny, but the very best of men strike strange notes, discords sometimes, in the music of their lives, and the rest of the life, so far from drown- ing these notes, makes them sound all the louder and stranger. Good as all the lectures are, Mr. Boker has singled out the two most valuable for praise in the introduction. The one on Goethes Faust shows as has been said the results of patient, thorough study. The one on Richter, who is just the most difficult of all German authors to rightly estimate, presents the impartial judgments of a well-trained mind. It is not a pane- gyric like the chapters of Carlyle, who seems to write to praise extravagantly all that is obscure. It is not the harsh condem- nation which some of the modern German critics seem inclined to bestow, but it finds excellencies and defects, extravagancies and sobrieties, whimsicalities and wise sayings mingled in con- fusion in Richters works. There will, probably, always be a last word to say about Richter. There will always be a few to admire him, and many to censure him. His precocious youth, 1881.] Bayard Taylor8 PO8thumou8 J%o1c8. 45 his childish maturity, his effusive enthusiasm over the natural beauties of the world, his tender pathos over immortal friend- ship and love, the sudden descent from the sublime to the ridiculous, the no less swift and more impressive soaring aloft again to the forcible utterance of some truth, these things Tay- lor sees and depicts with kindly wisd& m. To read Richter is like washing for diamonds. There is a good deal of water, some dirt, but now and then a precious stone that makes one forget all the rest for a while at least. There is, moreover, such a fascination in the man, his hardships, his simplicity, his love of little children, of flowers, and of true goodness, that he is sure with all his oddities of never being quite forgotten. If in the judgment of any the Essays and Notes~ as a whole has less permanent value than the earlier volume, it can bardly be said to show less plainly the variety of learning and critical ability of the author. The article on Ten nyson~ exhibits a wide reading and a maturity and finish that lead one to say, the writer had just come to the perfection of his power, when death took him away. The essay on Victor Hugo~ was, it is said, an astonishingly rapid piece of work, but one would hardly suspect that from the smooth translations and calm judgments found in it. There is a decidedly German tinge to this book also and the article on The German Burns, as Taylor half-apologeti- cally calls Rebel, is a good example of that laborious, faithful work by which Taylor built up his sure title to fame. One may agree or not to the full with Taylors description of Rebels poems as fresb, wild and lovely as the Schwarzwald heather, but the reader will hardly help appreciating the merit of his translations and being thankful for such an insight into the qualities of the poet as this article gives. IRizickerts genius too is here analysed and his power over form in such striking superiority to that of most German au- thors is clearly defined as seen especially in the translations from Rariri. But with justice Taylor defends Thickert from some of the criticism that has been made on his poetry on account of this very excellence in form. RUckert has too often been considered a merely technical versifier, who could perform astonishing gyrations in rhythm and who loved to dis 46 Bayard Taylor8 Po8thumou8 Book8. [Jan., play these dexterities to the consternation of most German au- thors, as Liotard loved to amaze Parisian audiences with his flying leaps and swift, unexpected, aerial revolutions. Some of Rilekerts critics, says Taylor, (p. 104) have asserted that his extraordinary mastery of all the resources of language operated to the detriment of his poetic faculty ; that the feeling to be expressed became subordinated to the skill displayed by expressing it in unusual form. They claim more- over that he produced a mass of sparkling fragments rather than any single great work. I am convinced, however, that the first charge is unfounded, basing my opinion upon my knowl- edge of the poets simple, true, tender nature, which I learned to appreciate during my later visits to his home. After the death of his wife, the daughter, who thereafter assumed her mothers place in the household, wrote me frequent accounts of her fathers grief and loneliness, enclosing manuscript copies of the poems in which he expressed his sorrow. These poems are exceedingly sweet and touching; yet they are all marked by the same flexile use of difficult rhythms and unprecedented rhymes. So Taylor wrote in 1866 and we quote the passage, because it has become plain since that these words were very true and that they were not inspired by personal regard. In fact, for more than a score of years, while Riickerts critics were harping on his amazing dexterity as involving and tending to develope a disregard of warm, tender feeling, there lay in his desk in manuscript a very large number of poems, any dozen of which would have been enough to confute this criticism. But he could not, during his life, bring himself to lay before the world any of these delicate transcriptions of the tenderest feeling. In 1872, six years after his death, a volume of these poems, which were written in connection with the death of two chil- dren and the violent illness of two others, was published with the title of Kindertodtenlieder, Child-Elegies. There is not in German poetry a volume of equal tenderness and pathos, and yet these poems too are characterized by that same flexibility of language and surprising, beautiful rhythm that marks his most objective work. This volume and many other similar poems not yet published were written between Christmas, 1833, 1881.1 Bayard Taylars Posthumous BOOkS. 47 and Easter, 1834, and their number, beauty, and finish are per- haps the very best proofs of iRlickerts wonderful genius. Translations of two of them are here given, not to be brought into comparison with Taylors work, but to give confirmation to Taylors words. The first of these was made by the writer and appeared in a New York evening paper in 1873, with the title of THE CHRISTMAS DREAM. I said to my darling maiden, Sleep softly and quickly sleep; From the sky in a chariot golden To-night will the Christ-child leap. With many a shining treasure Is the tiny coach supplied; And to-morrow, when awaking, Thou wilt find them by thy side. And so fell asleep my maiden And whispered, when she awoke, The little wheels of ~iis wagon I saw, and the ponies yoke. Among the bright stars were whirling The little wheels, round and round; And a golden thread came twirling And caught me up from the ground. No I no! the beautiful wagon Will bring its treasures to thee~ Thou canst not thither, my maiden I Thou stayest just here with me. And then the dear child grew silent, And answered never a word~ But the golden thread she did spy lent Wings, and she flew as a bird. She was so airy a maiden, And her heart so made to fly, Enough was a fine thread, golden, To draw her up to the sky. Us too far heavier laden, With sorrow and sin defiled, Us too doth a fine thread golden Draw after the dear, lost child. The other translation from this little volume is by a friend and is a charming rendering of an almost untranslatable poem: Once in the spring-time air, Weaving our garlands fair, In the garden-closes, How did I share with thee? Were not the thorns for me, And for thee, the roses? Ah! in the winter wild Far hast thou fled, my chlld! Tis thy hand disposes Unto me my shareand see I The thorns of death for me, And for thee, the roses. Now cometh again the spring And again I weave and sing And make thee posies; So must it ever be, Ever the thorns for~me And for thee, the roses. The two articles about Weimar, (they are really three), are as delightful as anything Taylor wrote. They are full of the 48 Bayard Taylor8 Po8thumou8 Book8. [Jan., great purpose of an eager, appreciative mind, and of the soft, delicious dreaminess that belongs to the quiet, unimposing, but honorable little city. Yet even in its palmiest days there must have been something shadowy about its pretensions. All its pretensions now are to tbe shadows of the past. The talk is of Goethe, the foremost; of Schiller, the second at least in popu- lar affection; of Herder, of Carl August, of Anna Amalia, and the streets at every corner carry one back from fifty to a hun- dred years. While Prussia, whose Frederick the Great clam- ored and vociferated in French, has advanced to the sover- eignty of a North-German empire, the little land of the great German authors has become more and more a shrine of sacred relics for students and scholars, and a shadow has even fallen on its claims to independence. But for the lover of German lit- erature it is and must be the Athens, a name which suggests that in Weimar reminiscences of a Greece as old as that of Pericles mingle without much contrast with those of the ducal authority of Carl August. Even Taylors purpose in visiting Weimar seems now a part of Weimars shadowy past. One cannot read without sadness the concluding lines of Weimar in June. There is no fountain of Trevi there, the drinking of whose waters would insure a return; but I might have taken a parting cup at the fountain which is guarded by the lovely bronze group of Death and Immortality. Perhaps the acceptance of an earnest task is a better guarantee than either, for it seems to give a presumptive right to the years required to perform it. Taylor has taken that parting cup now from the waters guarded by Death and Immortality, and as his friends look back through his laborious and largely successful life, they could hardly find a better sentence with which to express his fidelity to his work than this from the last brief article on Authorship in America. The poet, novelist, historian or critic, by the grace of God, finds his life in his work and cannot live without it. Taylor found his life in his work and for that reason the best of his work will have a permanent value. 1881.1 Be6wulf G~etti. 49 ARTICLE III.BEOWULF GRETTI. DR. VJGF6SSON, the well-known author of the Cleasby- Vigfiisson Icelandic-English Dictionary, in his new and excel- lent edition of the Sturlurga Saga (Oxford, 1878), called the attention of Anglo-Saxon scholars to the existence of the Be6wulf legend in the old Norse literature. The saga of Gretti, of which William Morris has given us so masterly a translation,* narrates the life and deeds of the most famous of Tcelandic outlaws. Interwoven with the true historic portions of the Saga are first, romantic elements, drawn in part from Icelandic folk lore, in part from the romance literature of the middle ages; and second, mythical elements, which, drifting down from some unknown past, have finally clustered about the great popular hero of Icelandic literature. For a fuller acquaintance with this most thoroughly Icelandic of Sagas, we need only refer the reader to the translation above mentioned. The mythical portions of the Saga narrate Grettis contest with a ghost, and tell of the curse which the vanquished spirit called down upon him. Later on in the Saga, the curse has passed into fulfillment, and we see the outcast Gretti fleeing the paths of men; yet, as in him lies a rare power over ghosts and goblins, when he learns of the doings of an ogress, dwell- ing in a cave neath a force, forth he comes from his hiding to meet and to overcome this spirit of darkness. Dr. Vigfiisson claims that both portions of the Be6wulf legend have their parallels in ihe tale of the Icelandic hero; but Dr. Hugo Gering, in a late number of the Anglia, while conceding the perfect parallelism between the story of how Be6wulf overcame in fight the grisly mere-wife, and how the Icelandic Gretti tus- sled with the goblin cave-dweller, declares that, to his mind no such parallelism exists between the stories of Grendel and of Ghim. The object of the present article is to place side by side the assumed parallel passages of Saga and Epos, and thus allow the reader to form his own judgment. * Story of Grettir, the Strong. London, 1869. E. Magndsson and W. Morris. VOL. Iv. 4

1881.1 Be6wulf G~etti. 49 ARTICLE III.BEOWULF GRETTI. DR. VJGF6SSON, the well-known author of the Cleasby- Vigfiisson Icelandic-English Dictionary, in his new and excel- lent edition of the Sturlurga Saga (Oxford, 1878), called the attention of Anglo-Saxon scholars to the existence of the Be6wulf legend in the old Norse literature. The saga of Gretti, of which William Morris has given us so masterly a translation,* narrates the life and deeds of the most famous of Tcelandic outlaws. Interwoven with the true historic portions of the Saga are first, romantic elements, drawn in part from Icelandic folk lore, in part from the romance literature of the middle ages; and second, mythical elements, which, drifting down from some unknown past, have finally clustered about the great popular hero of Icelandic literature. For a fuller acquaintance with this most thoroughly Icelandic of Sagas, we need only refer the reader to the translation above mentioned. The mythical portions of the Saga narrate Grettis contest with a ghost, and tell of the curse which the vanquished spirit called down upon him. Later on in the Saga, the curse has passed into fulfillment, and we see the outcast Gretti fleeing the paths of men; yet, as in him lies a rare power over ghosts and goblins, when he learns of the doings of an ogress, dwell- ing in a cave neath a force, forth he comes from his hiding to meet and to overcome this spirit of darkness. Dr. Vigfiisson claims that both portions of the Be6wulf legend have their parallels in ihe tale of the Icelandic hero; but Dr. Hugo Gering, in a late number of the Anglia, while conceding the perfect parallelism between the story of how Be6wulf overcame in fight the grisly mere-wife, and how the Icelandic Gretti tus- sled with the goblin cave-dweller, declares that, to his mind no such parallelism exists between the stories of Grendel and of Ghim. The object of the present article is to place side by side the assumed parallel passages of Saga and Epos, and thus allow the reader to form his own judgment. * Story of Grettir, the Strong. London, 1869. E. Magndsson and W. Morris. VOL. Iv. 4 50 Be6wulf Gretti. [Jan., The text used in our translation is that published by the Society for Norse Literature. (Copenhagen, 1 853.j In order that the reader may have some conception of the nature of this ghostly being with whom our hero has his first encounter, we give here a brief sketch of that which befell in the chapters preceding our extract. GRETTIS SAGA. STORY OF GL~M. A farmer ycleped Th6rhall dwelt at Th6rhall-stead. His farm was haunted, and therefore he found it hard enow to get herdsmen. At the Aithing one summer, Skapti, the lawman, spake to him of a Swede. hight Glum. The farmer, while search- ing after his horses, meets a strange looking earle, amazing huge, with big staring blue eyes, and wolf-gray hair. Ghim it is, and he will come, if it be of his own free will, since, quoth he, Im a hard fellow to deal with, if all go not after my mind. At the set time Glum came, but soon he showed such a churlish temper, that no one could bide him. Not once did he seek Th6rhalls church, he never said his prayers, insooth he had no belief in God. The day before Yule Glum rose betimes, and bade them set meat before him but the good wife, chiding him, said, The Christian should hold from flesh to-day. Thereat spake Ghirn, Many superstitions ye have, but I know not that men fare better than in fore- gone days, and Ill have my meat and none of your tricks. The meat was brought, but the good wife forewarned him that dearly enow he would pay for it. That same night, storm with pitchy darkness fell, and the thrall did not come home: next morning they found him dead, high up the mountain, blue as hell, and thick as an ox. For that signs of a mighty tussle were seen nigh at hand, and the ghost was never heard of more, men deemed that each had slain the other. Yet such a spell clung to the thralls body, that they never could fetch it to the church, and so graved it where it lay. Anon the farm was again haunted and men knew that Glum lay not still in his grave. Thereof Gretti learned and betook him thitherward. CHAPTER XXV. Gretti rode to Th6rhall-stead, and the franklin gave him good welcome. He asked whither Gretti had in mind to fare, but he said that he would be there over night, if it liked the franklin to have it so. Th6rhall said he should know how to thank him for it, were he there; but few think it a gain to lodge here for long; thou wilt have heard talk about what there is to bewail here, but I am fain thou shouldest run no risk for my sake; for albeit thou comest off hale thy- self, still I know for sure thou wilt miss thy horse, for none who comes here keeps his beast whole. Gretti said that horses enow there were, whatever became of this. Th6rhall was glad that Gretti was fain to be there, and welcomed him with both hands. Grettis horse was bolted into a house stoutly. They fared to sleep, and so the night wore away, and Glum came not home. Thereat * We would bear witness to the masterliness of Morris rendering of the Saga. Having already prepared our own translation before that of the poet met our eyes, we have carefully re-written it with the new light afforded by this most per- fect version; hence our own work is in a great measure based on that of Morris. 1881.] Be6wn~f Gretii. 51 spake Th6rhall, It has gone well at thy coming, since every night Ghim is wont to ride the houses, or break down the doors, as thou mayest see mark of it. Gretti said, Then one of two shall be, he will not sit long on his haunches, or else this haunting will hold off more than one night; I will be here another night and see how it fares. Thereafter they went to Grettis horse, and he had not been meddled with. The franklin thought all fared one way. Now Gretti was there another night, and the thrall did not come home. Then the farmer thought that bid very fair, lie went then to see Grettis horse. When the franklin came there, the house was broken open, and the horse dragged out to the door, and every bone in him broken asunder. Th6rhall told Gretti whereto it had then come, and bade him save himself. For death is sure, if thou abidest Gkim. Gretti answered, I may not have less for my horse than to see the thrall. The franklin said that it was no gain to see him, for he was unlike aiiything in human shape; But good seemeth to me every hour that thou wilt be here. Now the day slipped by, and, when men should go to sleep, Gretti would not fare from his clothes, and he laid him down on the seat against the franklins locked bed-closet; he had over him a shaggy cloak, and drew the one flap down under his feet, but the other he twined under his head, and looked out through the neck-hole. A roof pillar was in front of the seat, a very strong one, and against this he set his feet. The door-fittings were all broken off the outer door, hut now a hurdle was made fast there in its stead, and uncouthly set up. The cross-wainscot, which had been in the front of the hall, was all broken away, both above and below the cross-beam. The beds were all put out of place. It was very drear there. Light burned in the hall the night long, and when a third of the night had sped, Gretti heard without a huge din; one fared up on the house, rode the hall, and beat with the heels against the thatch, so that every beam cracked. This went on long, then down it came from the house, and went to the door, and when the door opened, Gretti saw that the thrall thrust in his head, and that showed itself to him ghastly big, and wondrously huge-hewn. Ghim fared slowly, and drew himself up, when he came in doors; he loomed high up nigh the roof, turned toward the hall, and laid his arms up on the cross-beam, and glared in over the hall. The farmer let naught be heard from himself, for he deemed it enough to hearken to what was going on outside. Gretti lay quiet and bestirred himself no whit. Ghim saw that a pack of some sort lay on the seat, and now he strode in along the hail, and took a right string hold of the cloak. Gretti braced his feet against the pillar, and therewithal moved not at all. Gl~m clutched it a second time far more stoutly, but the cloak did not give in any wise. The third time he griped it with both hands so firmly, that he drew Gretti up off the seat, and now they wrenched asunder the cloak between them. Ghim looked at the rag which he yet held, and wondered much who might tug so stoutly against him; and, in that moment, Gretti leaped under his arms, and seized hold of him about the middle, and bent his back as stoutly as ever he could, and he meant therewith that Gl~m should sink on his knees; but the thrall bore down on Grettis arms so lustily, that, for the might of him, he gave way utterly. Then Gretti sprang from under him into the seats on each side. Then the pillars started, and everything broke that lay in their way. Ghim would make his way out, but Gretti braced his feet against whatever he could; howbeit Ghim got him dragged out from the hail; then they had an all sore tussling, for the thrall thought to have hiu~ 52 Be6wu~f Gretti. [Jan., out away from the house; but, ill as it was to deal with Gl4m indoors, Gretti saw then that it was nevertheless worse to wrestle with him without, where- fore he put forth his uttermost strength to escape faring out. Gl~m now gath- ered up all his might, and drew him to himself, as they came into the porch; and, when Gretti saw that he could stay himself nowhere, with one hound he hurled himself mightily at the belly of the thrall, and spurned with both feet against an earth-fast stone which stood in the doorway. For this the thrall had not made him ready; he had then been tugging to drag Gretti to him, wherefore Ghim reeled over backwards and crashed out back-foremost through the door, so that his shoulders caught the lintel, and the roof burst asunder, both timbers and frozen thatch; so he fell outstretched on his back out of the house, and Gretti on top of him. Without was great shining of the moon, with rifted clouds; betimes drifting over the moon, but betimes drawn off it. Now, in the moment that Gl6~m fell, a ci. ud drave off from the moon, and Gl~m cast his eyes sharply up against it, and Gretti himself has said, that this was the one sight he had seen, which made him turn pale. Then such a faintness fell upon him, from all together, from weariness, and by reason that lie saw Glum rull his eyes so horribly, that he got not his short-sword drawn, and nigh lay betwixt the world and hell. But therein dwelt more accursed craft in Glum than in most other ghosts, that he spake then on this wise: Great eagerness hast thou shown to find me, Gretti, said he, but that will not be thought wonderful, albeit thou winnest no great good hap from me; still this I can tell thee, that thou now hast got one-half that force and manly might, which was allotted thee, if thou hadst not found me; now I cannot get that strength taken from thee, which thou hast hitherto obtained, but this I can control, that thou waxest never stouter than thou now art; and yet lusty enow art thou, and this shall many a one learn. Thou hast been had in repute hitherto for thy works, but hereafter shall fall on thee mulctings and man-slaughters, but almost all thy works shall be turned to thy mishap and lucklessness. Thou shalt be made outlaw, and thy lot shall be alway to house outcast alone; then I lay this spell on thee, that these mine eyes be aiway before thy sight and then thou shalt deem it a hard thing to be alone, and this shall drag thee to death. And when the thrall had spoken this, that faintness left Gretti, which had lain upon him. He drew then his short sword, and hewed the head from Glum, and set it by his thigh. Then the franklin came out, for he had clad himself the while Ghim was speaking; but in no wise durst he draw nigh, before that Glum had fallen. Th6rhall praised God therefore, and heartily thanked Gretti, that he had overcome this unclean spirit. Then they went and burned Ghim to cold coals. Thereafter they put his ashes into a bag, and graved it, where were fewest cattle- pasturings or ways of men; they went home after that, and it was then well nigh day. Gretti laid him down, for he was very stiff. Th6rhall sent to the nearest farm after men, and showed and told how it had fared. All who heard thereof were astonied at this work, and it was then a common saying, that in all the land there was not the like of Gretti Asmundarson in might, in daring, and in all masterliness. Th6rhall sent Gretti away well furnished, and gave him a good horse, and comely clothing, since those he had before worn were all rent asunder. They separated as friends. Gretti rode thence to the ridge in Waterdale, and Thorwald welcomed him, and asked minutely about his fight with Glum, but Gretti told him 1881.] Be6wulf Gretti. 53 all their dealings, and said that he had never come to such a test of strength, so long a tussling they had had together. Thorwald bade him keep quiet and then all will go well, hut otherwise an ill fate will be thiue. Gretti said that he had not bettered in temper, and owned that he was much harder to quiet than before, and deemed all contradiction worse. Therein he marked a great change, that he had become a man so filled with a dread of darkness, that he durst nowhere fare alone, so soon as night drew on; then he beheld phantoms of every shape, and that has since been had as a saying, that Gl~m loans eyes, or gives Gl~m-sight to those who see things quite otherwise from what they are. CHAPTER LXIV.GRETTIS SECOND ENCOUNTER. There was a priest, ycleped Stein, who dwelt at Eydale river in Barthdale; he was a good householder and rich in cattle. His son, hight Kjartan, was a brave man and well grown up. Thorstein the White, a man was called, who lived at Saudheaps, south of Eydale river. His wife, hight Steinvdr, was young and gladsome. They had bcarns, who were young at this time. Men held the place to be much haunted by troll-goings. It happed two winters before that Gretti came into the north country, that Steinvdr, the housewife at Sandheaps, fared to Yulemass at Eydale river after her wont, but the goodman sat at home. Men laid them down to sleep at evening, and in the night they heard mickle creaking in the hall, and from the franklins bed. None durst stand up and search into it, for that they were very few folk there. In the morning the housewife came home, but the goodman was gone, and none wot what had become of him. So wore away the next twelvemouth. But the winter thereafter the housewife would fare to mass; she bade her house-carle stop at home. Thereto he was loth, but said it was hers to rule. All fared there the same wise as before the house-cane was gone. This seemed to men wondrous. Then men saw some blood spots about the outer door. Therefrom they drew that ill wights had taken them both. This was noised wide abroad in the shires. Gretti had tidings thereof and, for that there was in him great skill for putting end to ghost.haunt- ings or spirit-goings, he wended his way to Barthdaie and came at Yule eve to Sandheaps. There he made stay and named himself Gest. The housewife saw that he was wondrously big-bodied, but the homefolk were mightily frighted at him. He besought that he might guest there. Quoth the housewife, there is meat ready for thee, but thou must look to th~rself to keep hale. He said that so it should be, I will sit at home, quoth he, bitt thou fare to mass if thou wilt. She answered, ~Thou art meseems bold, if thou durat stay at home. I like not sameness, quoth he. Illy I bear it, she said, to stay at hme, but I cannot cross the river I will help thee over, quoth Gest. Then she made her ready for church and her little daughter with her. It was thawing fast without, and the river was in flood, and the ice drve thereon. Then the housewife spake, Theres no crossing the river for man or horse. There will be fords, quoth Gest, and be not afeard. Bear thou first the maid. quoth the houtewife, she is lighter. I have no mind to make two journeys thereto, said Gest, and I will bear thee on my arm. She crossed herself and said, That is impossible, or what wilt thou then do with the maid ? I will find rede for that, said he, and caught them both up. and set the child in her mothers lap, and so he bore them on his left arm, but had the right hand free; and thus he waded out through the ford. They durst not shriek, they 54 Be6wulf Gretti. [Jan., were so afeard. But the river struck him forthwith up on the breast; then a huge ice-floe drave at him, but he thrust forth the hand which was free, and pushed it from him. Then it grew so deep, that the stream broke on his shoulder. He waded lustily, till he came to the bank on the other side, and cast them both a-land. Thereafter he turned back, and it was then half.- twilight when he came home to Sandheaps, and called for supper; and when he had his fill, he bade the home-folk fare into the halL Then he took boards and loose wood, and threw it athwart the hall, and balked it so high, that no one of the home-folk could come thereover. None durst speak against him nor mumble ought. The entrance to the hall was in the side wall in by the gable-end, and there beside it stood the cross-dias. There Gest laid him down, and did not fare from his clothes. A light burned in the hall over against the door. So Gest lay as the night wore on. The housewife came to Eydale river to mass, and folk wondered how she had crossed the river. She said she wot not whether man or troll had fetched her over. The priest said he was wis a man, albeit he had few his like; And let us keep quiet thereabout, quoth he, haply he is called to work a bettering of thy troubles. The housewife was there through the night. CHAPTER LXV. Now this is to be told of Gest, that when it drew on to midnight, he heard. mickle din without. Thereafter came into the hall a huge troll-wife; she held in the one hand a trough, but in the other a knife, very big. She looked about, when she came in and saw where Gest lay, and sprang at him; but he leaped up to meet her, and they griped each other grimly, and wrestled long in the hall. She was stronger, but he avoided graftily, yet all that was before them, they broke, even the cross-wainscot of the hall. She dragged him out through the door, and so into the porch; there he made a stubborn stand. She was fain to drag him out of the house, but that befell not before that they had loosed all the fittings of the outer door, and had borne them out on their shoulders. Then she went lum~ bering down to the river, and right on to the gulf. Then was Gest exceeding weary, howbeit one of twain must be: either he must pluck up heart, or she would hurl him into the gulf. They wrestled all night long. He thought that he had never struggled against such devilishness in might. She had him held so fast to her, that he could not take hold of aught with either hand, save that he griped the witch about the middle; and when they came to the river gully, he swung the ogre-wife round. Therewithal his right hand became free. Thereupon he drew quickly the short-sword, with which he was girt. and brandished it - then he smote the troll on the shoulder, so that it took off her right arm; and in this wise he became loosed, but she reeled over into the gully, and so into the force. Gest was then both stiff and weary, and lay there long on the crag. Then he went home, as it began to grow light, and laid him in bed. He was all swollen and blue, and when the housewife came home from mass, she thought her house quite disordered. Thereupon she went to (Aest and asked him what had befallen that all was broken and waste. He told all as it had fared. She thought it a thing of great worth, and asked who he was. Thereupon he told the truth, and bade fetch a priest, and said he would fain see him. And so it was done. But when priest Stein came to Saudheaps, he was sure forthwith thereof, that Gretti As- mundarson was come there, naming himself Gest. The priest asked what he weened had become of those men, who had disappeared there. Gretti said that 1881.] Be6wu~f Gretti. 55 he trowed they had vanished in the gulf The priest said that he could not put trust in his sayings, if he could see no proof thereof. Gretti said that later they would know it fully. The priest fared home. Gretti lay many nights abed. The housewife did exceeding well by him, and so Yule wore away. This is Grettis saying, that the troll-wife cast herself into the gulf what time she got the wound; but the Barthdale men say, that day dawned upon her the while they wrestled, and that she yielded her breath, when he hewed the arm off her, and that she still stands there on the crag in womans likeness. Those dale-dwellers hid Gretti thero. During the winter, after Yule it befel one day, that Gretti fared to Eydale river, and, when they met, Gretti and the priest, Gretti said, I see this, priest, quoth he, that thou puttest little faith in my sayings; now I will that thou fare with me to the river, and see what likelihood there seemeth to thee therein.~~ The priest did so. But when they came to the force, they saw a cave up under the cliff; it was a sheer cliff, so tall, that nowhere might it be clomb, and anear fifty fathom from above to the water. They had a rope with them. Thereat spake the priest: I trow it is impossible by much for thee to fare down. Gretti answered, Possible it is soothly, but with them it will go best there, who are men of valor; I will search out what there is in the force, but thou shalt watch the ropes. The priest bade him command, and drave down a peg in the rock, bore stones thereto, and sat thereby. CHAPTER LXVI. Now it is to be told of Gretti that he put a stone in the bight of the rope, and so let it sink down to the water. In what way thinkest thou now to fare ? quoth the priest. I will not be bound, quoth Gretti, when I come into the force; so warns me my heart. Thereafter he made him ready for the journey, and was lightly clad, and girt him with a short-sword, hut had no weapons more. Then he leaped off the cliff and down into tbe force. The priest saw the soles of his feet, and thereafter wot in no wise what had become of him. Gretti dived under the force, and that was hard, for that the eddy was strong, and he must dive to the very bottom, before that he came up under the fQrce. A jutting rock was there and thereon he drew him up. There was a great cave under the force, and the river fell away from the cliff. Then he went into the cave, and a huge fire was there on the hearth. Gretti saw that a giant sat there, awfully big; he was fear. ful to look on. But when CrettVcame toward him, the giant leaped up, snatched a pike and struck at him, who had come in; for he could both hew and thrust there- with. It had a wooden shaft; at that time men called that which was made in this wise, hepti-sax. Gretti hewed back with his short-sword, and it came on the shaft, so that it clove asunder. The giant was fain then to stretch aback after a sword, which hung there in the cave. Thereat Gretti smote him in front in the breast, so that it nigh took off all the brisket and the belly, so that the bowels poured out of him down into the river, and drave adown with the stream; and, as the priest sat by the rope, he saw that certain flabby lumps drave down past the cords, bloody all. Thereat he grew unsteady, and thought now to know that Gretti was dead; he sprang then from holding the rope and fared home; it was then come to evening, and he spake with assurance that Gretti was dead, and said that there was mickle scath in such like man. Now is to tell of Gretti. that he left short space between his blows till that the giant died. Thereat Gretti went in along the cave; he quicked a light, and explored the cave. Thereof is ttot told, how 56 Be~wulf Gretti. [Jan., much treasure he got in the cave, but men deem it to have been somewhat. He stayed there far on in the night There he found the hones of two men and put them into a skin-bag. Then he sought his way out of the cave, and swam to the rope, and shook it, and deemed that the priest would be there. But when he knew that the priest had fared home, he must needs by strength of hand go up the rope, and so he came up on the cliff. Then he fared home to Eydale river, and bore into the church-porch the bag, wherein the bones were, and therewith that rune-stick, whereon these verses were exceeding well carved I went into the gloomy gulf. Gaped the waterfall, (whirling of stones), Against the warrior* With very icy mouth. Hard lay afore on the breast The winged stream in the narrow hall. Came on the shoulders of the poet, The fierce heating of the whirlpoolt And this too: Hideous came to meet me The giantess friend out of the cave. He strove soothly, Very hard-fisted, against me long. I got hewn the hard-edged Heft.sword off the shaft. Clove the breast and brisket of the giant The bright sword (war-flame). There it said thus, that Gretti had fetched these bones out of the cave. But when the priest came to church in the morning, he found the stick, and that which went therewith, and read the runes, but Gretti had fared home to Sand- heaps. Professor Child has called our attention to a somewhat sim- ilar story in the Saga of Samson the Fair. (Bj~irner. Nor- diska Kiftapa Dater.) Samson, son of Arthur, king of Eng- land, is searching for his beloved Valentine, an Irish princess. She had disappeared in a forest, while her father was lying at anchor in a harbor of Brettland. Quintalin, son of the miller Galin, and a water-nix, has lured her away, but she has been saved from his clutches by Olympia, foster-mother of Samson, and carried to her palace in the forest. Her friends, however, know naught of her, and deem her dead. Samson comes one * Lit. The endower of the launching roller of the spear-storm. The launching roller of the spear-storm is the sword. The endower of the sword is the warrior, for he imparts to it its destroying qualities. f Lit. The fierce enmity of the wife of Bragi. Bragis wife is Ithun; hom- onym of Norse word for whirlpool. 1881.1 Be6wulf Gretti. 57 day to the miller Galin, having beard of him as of one who knows all the secrets of the woods, and asks him for aid; the latter consents thereto. Here occurs our extract: CHAPTER VII. But, whilst they were speaking thus, Samson stood on the spring by the force, and now they took each others hands, and in that moment Samson knows naught before that he is taken about both his feet and is pulled down into the force. A troll-wife is come there, and he hath not might against her. But so soon as he can use his hands, they wrestle and come down to the bottom, and he deems that she hath in mind to bear him against the bottom. And lie turns quickly and gets a thong-knife grasped, which Valentine, the kings daughter, had given him, and sets it before her breast, and rips open her whole belly, so that the bowels leap out, and become like blood to look at. Samson is now nigh to be suffocated; he becomes now loose, and dives under the whirlpool; there he finds a certain cave and crawls up under the cliff; he is now so spent of strength that he must lie there long before that he can move himself. But when he has come to himself, he wrirgs his clothes, but thereafter spies out the cave, and he deems tha.t he will never come to its end. And now he finds a side-cave; there he sees much ware, and many good things, both in gold and silver. A bed is there exceeding fair, with fore-curtains and rich stuffs. A rope is there, and knobs of gold on the ends, and thereon are spread many clothes. There he sees the kirtle and mantle of Valentine the kings daughter; there he sees also her diadem, her waist-band, and thong-buckle. Hereof he takes such as seems good to him, and goes to the end of the cave. Now lie fiuds a stone door; it is leaned to, but not bolted, and there he goes out. He knows not then whither he shall fare. And thence on the fourth day he finds before him broad streets; then he enters the dwellings of men. The story goes on to tell how Quintalin, seeking to avenge the death of his mother, overreaches himself, and how Sam- son finds his long-lost Valentine. Our translation of the Be6wulf is based chiefly on that of Grein; we have likewise consulted the excellent versions of Thorpe and Arnold. The text we have followed in the main is that of Hevne(3d edition, 1873.) 58 Be6wulf Gretti. [Jan., BEOW1TLF.*.~~~STORY OF GRE~DELLINEs 111-838. CHAPTER XII. Then from the moor came Grendel walking. Under mist-slopes, Gods wrath he bore. That man-destroyer meant, of the kin of men, Some one to slink on in the hall, the high one. Under the clouds he strode to where the guest-house, Gold-hall of men, full well he wot, With plates, many-colored. Nor was that the first time That he Hrothgars home had sought. Never in life-days ere nor after, Of hall-thanes found he a stouter man. Then to the house the wight came walking, In joys unsharing. The door soon gave a-back, Fast with fire-hardened bands, or ever his hand touched it; Then tore he open baleful, for he was wrath-filled, The mouth of the house. Straightway thereafter, On the checkered floor the fiend trod; He moved in wrathful mood; from his eyes shot A light un-fair, to f4ame likest. He saw in the house, of warriors many, A kindred band sleeping, all together, A throng of clansmen: then his heart laughed; He deemed he would part, ere the day came, The grisly fiend, of each of them, The life from the body, for in him arose Hope of a glutting. Fate was no longer then Such, that he might seize more of the kin of men Beyond that night. Fidness of woe he knew, Higelacs kinsmanhow would that foe of man Fare with his sudden grips? Not to delay that was the fiend minded, * For the convenience of those who may not be thoroughly familiar with our national Epic, we would state that the various epithets, Higelacs thane or kins- man; the stout-hearted one, the high-born, the earl, the shelterer of earls; the lord of the Gat-kin, of the ring s. of the war-Oats; the war-beast, war-knight; the hall-guest, the son of Eegtheow the wolf of the Scyldings, the Gats champion, the prince of thanes, the shield of sea-farers, are all designations of Be6wuif; while Grendel is variously styled the harm-working, fell or grisly fiend; Gods foeman, foe of man, man-destroyer, murderous guest, famed one, author of evil, hell-bound, wight, lone ghost, and the epithet beast of war is common to both. Grendels mother is the surf or ground-wolf the mere-wife. The sword also is figuratively named the war-hill or flame, the battle-flame, the ring-brand or blade~ the drawn brand; the coat of mail is the war-cloth or net, the ring- or battle- sack, the braided breast-net. The drinking hall is the gold-hall, and the royal host, Hrothgar, the gold-friend of men; the door is the mouth of the house, and human flesh is the bone-casing, etc., etc. 1881.] Be6wu~f Gretti. 59 But, at the first, sudden he snatched him A sleeping warrior, tore him at unawares, Crunched his bone-casing, blood from the veins drank, Bite after bite gulped; full soon had he All the un-living one clean eaten up, Feet and hands [even]. On strode he nearer, And with the hand took hold of the stout-hearted Warrior upon his bed; the fiend against him Reached out his fist; he* seized hold thereof Quickly, with fell intent, and on his arm leaned. Soon he remarked this, the author of evil, That of mid-earth, in all the world, Other man he had not met, Stouter in hand-grip: fearful of heart he grew, Of soul; for that might he not sooner forth. His mind was fain of flight, he would to his hiding flee, Would seek the devils rout; nor was his working there Such as in life-days he of old had found it; Bethought him then, the good kinsman of Higelac. Of the evens-speech, upright he stood, And fast he griped him. The fingers burst; Outward the giant strove, further the earl stepped. That famed one had in mind, if that so he might, More widely to evade, and away from there Flee to the fen-lair; he wot his fingers might Within his foemans grasp. That was an evil way, That the harm-working fiend to Heorot went. Thundered the lordly hall; .soured to all the Danes, To the burgh-dwellers. to each of the keen, To the earls, was their ale; furious were both of them, The grim mighty ones. The house resounded, Great wonder then it was, that the guest-hall Withstood the beasts of war, that to earth it fell not, The fair earth-dwelling; but thus fast it was, In and out with iron bands, Forg~d with cunning craft. There from the sill bent back Many a mend-bench, so I have heard tell, Gold-overlaid, there where those foemen strove. That weened they not before, the Scyldings Witan,t That ever, with his might, of mankind any Could asunder break it, goodly and bone-bedecked, With craft wrench apart, save that the bosom of flame In smoke swallowed it. llJprose a sound New enow, seized on the N~wth-Danes A grisly fear, on each of them; Those who from the wall to the whoop hearkened, Heard Gods foeman yell his lay of horror, Be6wnlf, ~ The nobles composing the royal council, 60 Be6wulf Gretti. [Jan., Song of vanquishment, his wound bewailing Heard the hell-bound. Too fast he held him, He, who was of men in main the strongest In day of this life. CHAPTER XIII. The shelterer of earls would not For aught that murderous guest leave living, Nor his life-days to any of the folk Deem~d he helpful Of Be6wulf there Earls enow the old sword drew, Of their liege-lord would the life shield, The prince illustrious, if so they might. That they wist not, as they strife wrought, The bold-hearted sons of battle, And in halves thought to hew him, His soul to seek, that the fell fiend Not any on earth of irons the choicest. No bill of battle might cleave unto; But gainst victor-weapons he had spelled him, Gaiust every edge. His life-leaving On the day of this life Wretched should be, and that lone ghost Into the power of fiends afar journey. Then that he found, who of old had wrought, In mirth of mood, against the kin of men, Woes many (he was at enmity with God), That his body would r~t stay by him; But the boldhearted kinsman of Higelac By the haud held him; each by the other was While living, loathed. Body-pain lie felt, The grisly fiend, a gaping wound was seen Upon his shoulder, sinews sprang apart, Boue-casiugs hurst. To Be6wulf was Battle-fame given; must Grendel thence. Death-sick, under the fen-slopes flee, His joyless house seek; he the better knew That of his life the end was come, Of his days the full. To all the Danes Was after that storm of death their will fulfilled. He then had cleansed, who before from far came, Wise and stout of heart, the hall of Hrothgar, From assault had freed. In the nights work exulted he, In the fame of might; the lord of the Gat-kin Had to the East-Danes his boast* fulfilled: * Lines 485 if. I scorn it then to bear sword or broad shield, the yellow targe, to battle; but with my grip will I lay hold of the fiend, and, loathed against loathed, for the life tussle. 1881.] Be6wu~f Crett~. 61 Likewise the griefs all bettered, The carking cares that they of old bore, And of sore-need must undergo Woe not little. That was a token clear, When the war-beast the hand laid down, Arm and shoulder; there all together Was Grendels grip under the broad roof. LINES 1493-1652.FIGHT WITH GRENDELS MOTHER. CHAPTER XXIII. After these words the lord of the Veder-Gats Hastened amain, would he in no wise Answer abide; the welling flood took in The war-knight Then twas a days space Ere he the ground-plain could ken. That she soon marked, who the reach of the floods, Blood-athirst, had habited a hundred half-years, Grim and greedy, that some one of men there Sought out from above the earth of strange-wights. Thcn she griped him, caught the war-knight With grisly claws, nor thereby sooner Scathed the hale body; without, ring-mail shielded, That she the war-cloth might not claw through, The locked ring-sark with loathly fingers. Then the surf-wolf, when she to bottom came, Bore to her dwelling the lord of the rings, In such wise he might notthereto he had heart His weapons wield, but wonders so many In the deep beset him; many a sea-beast With battle-tusks broke the war-sark. Monsters hard pressed him. Then that earl knew That he in some hall of the deep, he knew not which, Was, where no water scathed him a whit, Nor, for the roofed-hall, might lay hold on him The floods sudden gripe. Fire-light he saw, A clear beam brightly shining. Then that good knight beheld the ground-wolf, The mighty mere-wife; he lent a wild storm To his war bill, hand from swing withheld not, So that on her head the ring-brand yelled out A greedy battle-lay. Then the guest found That the battleflame would not bite Nor her life scathe, but the edge bewrayed The lord at need; of old it had held out Many hand to hand fights, often the helm shorn, The doomed ones war-dress: then was the first time For this costly treasure, that its fame lay low. Thereat he was resolute, naught bated of valor, 62 I3e6wulf 6Yett~. [Jan., Of high deeds mindful, the kinsman of Higelac; He flung then the twisted brand, adorned with rich device. The wrathful fighter, so that it on earth lay, Hard and steel-edg~d; in strength he trusted, Hand-grip of might. So shall a man do, When he in battle thinketh of gaining Long-during praise. nor about his life careth. Then by the shoulder griped (naught from the feud shrank,) The lord of the war-Gats, Grendels mother. Then, firm in battle swung, for he was wrath-filled. The deathly fiend so that she to earth bent. Quickly thereat she him hand-pay requited With grisly claws, and caught hold of him Reeled then, soul-weary, the strongest of warriors, Of foot-champions, so that he fell. Then on the hall-guest sat she and drew her sword, Broad and brown.edg~d, her son she would venge, Her only offspring. On his shoulder lay The braided breast-net; that his life shielded, Gainst point and gainst edge withstood the entering. Deaths road he then had gone, the son of Ecgtheow, Under the yawning ground, the Gats champion, Had not the battle-sark help afforded, The war-net firm, and holy God The battle-victory wielded, the wise Lord; The heavens-ruler that ordered rightly, Lightly thereafter he again stood up. CHAPTER XXIV. Then he saw amidst armor a blade rich in victory, An old sword of the Jotuns,* of edges doughty, Warriors worthy adorning; that was of weapons choicest, Save that it was huger than any man other Unto battle-play could bear forth; Good and well-wrought, work of the Giants, Grasped he then the belted-hilt, the Wolf of the Scyldings, Wild and deathly-grim, drew he the ring.blade, Of life hopeless, wrath-enflamed struck, So that by the neck hard it griped her, Broke the bone-rings, clear the bill drave Through the doomed carcass, to earth she sank, The sword was sweaty, the man in his work joyed. The beam shone; within a light stood; Even so from heaven serene shineth The ethers-candle. He along the house looked, Then by the wall turned, heaved his weapon, The hard, by the hilt, Higelacs thane, * Giants of Norse mythology. 1881.] Be6wulf Gretti. 63 Wratliful and resolute. That edge was not worthless * Unto the war-knight, but he meant forthwith To requite Grendel the many war-storms, Those he had wrought unto the West-Danes, Oftener by far than at one time. When he llrothgars hearth-companions Slew asleep, in slumber ate up. Of the Dane-folk fifteen men, And other like number carried off; A loathly offering. Requital therefore, He, the wroth knight, had paid him so well, that in his lair He saw, battle-weary, Grendel lying, Lifeless, so for him before had ordered The fight at Heorot. Far the body sprang, When after death the blow it suffered, The sword-stroke hard, and the head then he cut off. Soon that they saw, the sagacious men, Those who with Hrothgar on the flood were looking, That the wave-blending was all commingled, The surf with blood flecked. The hoary-haired ones, The old men spake of the good knight together, That they of that high-born thereafter weened not. That he, victor-famed, would come to seek Their glorious lord; for so deemed many, That him the surf-wolf had broken asunder. Then came the days ninth hour, forsook the headland The bold Scyldings; betook him home thence Of men the gold-friend. The guests* sat down, Sick at heart, and stared on the flood; Nor wist nor weened they, that their kind lord Himself they should see. Then that sword began, Under the battle-sweat, under the blood-drops, The war-billit was a wonderto vanish Till that all meltod, to ice likest, When the frosts band the Father unlooseth, Unwindeth the flood-ropes, He who the power hath Of times and seasons; He is the true Orderer. He took not in those dwellings, the lord of the Veder-gats More of costly stores, though he saw there many, Save the head and the hilt likewise, Richly variegated; the sword had before melted, The drawn brand burnt up. that blood was so hot, The lone-ghost so venomous, who therein had perished. Soon he was swimming, who before in strife waited The downfall of foes, through the water he dived up; All cleansed were the seething floods, The vast tracts, wben that lone-ghost * Be6wulfs henchmen. 64 Be6wulf Gretti. [Jan., Life-days forsook and this perishable existence. Then to land came the shield of sea-farers, Stout of heart swimming, in the se a-gift exulted, In the mighty burthen of that he had with him. Then went towards him, to God they gave thauks, The goodly thane-band, in their lord they rejoiced, For this tl)at they him sound might see. Then was from the doughty-one helm and mail-coat Quickly loosened; the sea fell away, Water under the clouds, dyed with death-gore. Thence they fared forth along the foot-paths, Glad of heart, they measured the land-ways, The streets well-known; the kingly-hold men From the sea-cliff bore the head, Wearisome for each one of them, Those high-spirited ones: four must carry, Laboriously on the murderous-staff To the gold-hall Grendels head, Until at once to the hall came, Impetuous, bold in fight, four and ten Of the Gats walking; their prince with them, High-souled midst the throng, the mead-fields trod. Then came entering the prince of thanes, A man keen of deed, worthied with high-uame, The strife-fierce mnu, to greet Hrothgar. Then by the hair was to the hail borne Grendels head, where men were drinking, Frightful before earls and the lady likewise: A wondrous sight the men looked on. So run the legends of the twin heroes Gretti and Be6wulf. Is the parallelism complete between both portions of the re- spective Sagas, as claimed by Dr. Vighisson? Before passing to a critical comparison, it may be well to premise that we must expect to meet many transpositions. We shall naturally find the same links occupying different places in their respect- ive Saga-chains, and even the actors in these dramas inter- changing their roles. Again, from the existing connection or lack of connection between the ogre and ogress legends in Epos or Saga, we cannot with any certainty infer their orig- inal mutual dependence or independence. Turning our atten- tion now to the question at issue, we find so many and so strik- ing points of similarity between the story of Grettis second encounter and the two legends of our national epic, that we need only recall briefly the underlying plot which they have 1881j 1?e6wulf 6Yetti. 65 in common, in order to establish their identity. In both cases we find the hero engaged in strife with two superhuman beings of different sexes, inhabiting a cave neath a force. The first contest is with a hall-haunter, and is finally decided by the loss of the monsters arm. In the second, the hero bath a doughty tussle with the cave-dweller. Deep is the gulf and far down must he plunge before he can reach the bottom. As he seeks to enter the cave, the monster rushes at him, and they wrestle together, but finally he smites the evil wight full in the belly, so that the bowels leap out into the flood and are borne down with the current, and, when the watchers on the banks see the flood all dyed with gore, they fare home and deem that the great-hearted one hath perished. Yet, mean- while, by the light from a fire he explores the cave, and though he finds treasures, the Anglo-Saxon legend declares that he took naught thereof, while the Icelandic story-teller knoweth not how much he took. Dr. Vigfiisson has called attention likewise to the corres- pond ence between the designation of the sword which lli~inferth loans to Be6wulf and that of the bill of the ogre which Gretti severs from the hilt[h~ft-in~ce, heptisax.] d~ra~ Ae~b6we~a of their respective readings. Many other traits of similarity might be referred to, but we surmise that, in the unbiassed mind, no real doubt can arise of the parallelism between these two legends. The Samson-Saga presents likewise an analogy, though not so striking. A more difficult problem awaits us, as we seek to weigh impartially the evidence for and against the original identity between GLim and Grendell. But, before entering upon this discussion, we would turn our thoughts back again to the analogy we have assumed as proven, and call attention to a few points. First. The roles of ogre and ogress have been transposed in Grettis Saga. The cave-dweller of the Saga, a male evil- spirit, plays, in the second Icelandic legend, the role ascribed by the Ahglo-Saxon epic to the mother of Grendel, the grisly mere- wife. If now, by a species of mental subtraction, we eliminate VOL. IV. 5 66 Be6wulf Cretti. [Jan., from this Icelandic legend the role corresponding to that of the mere-wife of the Epos, there remains to the second evil- spirit, the hall-haunter, only the fight in the hall and its issue. To the role of the cave-dweller, we might almost refer, not only the whole story of the contest in the cave, but also several incidents in that of the hall-haunter, which may be looked on as detached fragments of the original ogress-Saga. Gretti is carried down toward the gulf and is so tightly clutched that he cannot grasp anything, but, finally, rousing all his strength, he swings the ogre-wife round. Be6wulf likewise is carried to the cave in such wise that he cannot wield his weapons, but finally, when his sword fails him, he exerts his uttermost strength, and swings the mere-wife till she bends to earth. There is even a striking similarity in the phraseology. Be6wulflines 1540-2. Br6gd thA beadve heard, thA he gebolgen wiis, feorh- genithian, that h6o on fiet gebeitli. Grettipage 151, line 16. Bregthr hafin fiagthkonunni till sweifin. Secoi~d. Comparing now the descriptions in Gretti of his two encounters in the hail, first with Glum and second with the evil-spirit, we shall find them to be identical: The same met- dents are repeated in the same order. It is a trait well known to Icelandic students that the same incident is made at times to do double duty in the same saga. Hence in our mind there rests little doubt as to the identity between Glum and the hall- haunter of the second tale, for the difference in the catastrophe does not, to our view, entitle the latter to other distinction than that of being regarded as another form of the same legend. But how much more graphic, more masterly in all its parts, is the story of the wrestling with Glum. Unquestionably that is the original, and the other the copy. We have thus sought to prove, first, the parallelism between the mere-wife of Be6wulf and the cave-goblin of Gretti, and, second, the identity of the hall-haunters in the two Icelandic legends. Turning finally to a comparison between the legends of Grendel and Glum, we find in each the dwelling waste and desolate through the nightly hauntings of an evil-wight; a hero appears to dare the contest, stretches himself out on his couch in the hall and calmly awaits the coming of the fiend. When the monster enters the house, he delays awhile, but 1881.1 Be6wulf Gretti. 67 finally strides in along the ball, and thrusts out his fist to clutch the hero. Thereat they have a long tussling and mead- benches start from their place. Finally they reach the hail- door. Here the legends go apart. But that there should be this divergence is no proof of their non-parallelism. And if, as we have sought to demonstrate, the story of Glum is identical with that of the hall-haunter of the second Teelandic legend, we have in this latter form of the story the missing link of analogy. It remains for us to notice two objections of Dr. Gei-ing, namely: the different natures of Glum and Grendel, and the fact that similar tales have been woven of other ghosts. It is true that Ghim is but the restless ghost of the slain herdsman, while Grendel is the wierd offspring of Cain. But is it not a common thing to find the same legends attached at different times or in different lands to beings of widely different nature? ilath not even our Be6wulf usurped the throne of the divine Beowa.* As regards the second point, we find not merely a parallelism, but a complete identity between the legends of Skelj4ngt and Grendel, they are but different ver- sions of that same old tale, which, descending the gentle slope of the years, has been stayed now by this, now by that cairn, wherein some sturdy Northman was sleeping. The wraith of a maid servant, habiting a cave beneath a force in this legend, seems almost like a faint distant echo of the ogress of Gretti, the mere-wife of Be6wulf. To our own mind there seem to be weightier reasons for than against the disputed parallelism; though we cannot, with Dr. Vigfiisson, find a close analogy between the rent cloak of Gretti, and the torn-off arm of Grendel. Our own object has been from the first, not so much to loose this riddle, as to piesent its different factors to the calmer and maturer judgment of riper scholars, and it is to these lovers of our national Epos that we would, in concluding, commit the solution of this vexed problem. * B. ten Brink. Engliselie Literatur, vol. i., p. 30. t Lrnason. Islenzkar Thj6thsdgur, vol. i., p. 245, if. 68 The Ir~28h Land Que8tion. [Jan., ARTICLE IV.TIIE IRISH LAND QUESTION. A STUDY of the Irish Land Question for the purpose of un- derstanding it, and not of supporting any interest involved in it,m ay be the most advantageously pursued by a consideration of the two following questions: First. What was the form of land tenure in Ireland previous to the Gladstone Land Act of 1870, and what were the eco- nomic conditions which this form of tenure had entailed upon Ireland? Second. What are the provisions of this Act, how has it worked during the ten years that it has been a law, and what is the outlook which the law has secured for the Irish peasant? The Irish land laws, in their exterior form, were, at the be- ginning of the present century, much the same as the land laws of England. Landlords and tenants were recognized by the laws of both countries, and in both countries the relation which existed between them was based upon the old feudal principles. In England, however, tenants received the benefits of this system, while Ireland has known nothing but its evils. The feudal relation with its reciprocal rights and duties, says Mr. Longfield, never existed in Ireland, the landlord never led his tenants to battle, and if they fought in the same field it was usually upon opposite sides. Under the old feu- dal law, lordship could not be transferred without consent of the tenant; but in Ireland that part of the feudal relation was quickly forgotten and the landlord soon came to recognize himself as complete and unrestricted proprietor of the land, so far as the tenant was concerned. The duties of the feudal lord to the tenant were no longer recognized, while the duties of the tenant to the landlord were enforced with the utmost rigor. It was no uncommon thing for the landlord, in case of dispute, to act as plaintiff, judge, and executor of the writ of judgment. Such encroachments were contrary to the common law or customs of the land, but the legislative or statutory power, be- ing in the hands of landlords or landlord sympathizers, legal-

68 The Ir~28h Land Que8tion. [Jan., ARTICLE IV.TIIE IRISH LAND QUESTION. A STUDY of the Irish Land Question for the purpose of un- derstanding it, and not of supporting any interest involved in it,m ay be the most advantageously pursued by a consideration of the two following questions: First. What was the form of land tenure in Ireland previous to the Gladstone Land Act of 1870, and what were the eco- nomic conditions which this form of tenure had entailed upon Ireland? Second. What are the provisions of this Act, how has it worked during the ten years that it has been a law, and what is the outlook which the law has secured for the Irish peasant? The Irish land laws, in their exterior form, were, at the be- ginning of the present century, much the same as the land laws of England. Landlords and tenants were recognized by the laws of both countries, and in both countries the relation which existed between them was based upon the old feudal principles. In England, however, tenants received the benefits of this system, while Ireland has known nothing but its evils. The feudal relation with its reciprocal rights and duties, says Mr. Longfield, never existed in Ireland, the landlord never led his tenants to battle, and if they fought in the same field it was usually upon opposite sides. Under the old feu- dal law, lordship could not be transferred without consent of the tenant; but in Ireland that part of the feudal relation was quickly forgotten and the landlord soon came to recognize himself as complete and unrestricted proprietor of the land, so far as the tenant was concerned. The duties of the feudal lord to the tenant were no longer recognized, while the duties of the tenant to the landlord were enforced with the utmost rigor. It was no uncommon thing for the landlord, in case of dispute, to act as plaintiff, judge, and executor of the writ of judgment. Such encroachments were contrary to the common law or customs of the land, but the legislative or statutory power, be- ing in the hands of landlords or landlord sympathizers, legal- 1881.1 The Iri8h Land Que8tion. 69 ized these encroachments. Three Acts of Parliament may be cited which took away rights from the Trish peasant which he believed himself to possess, by the authority of common law. The first provided that, should a tenant resort to legal pro- cedure to prove unfounded the claim of a landlord, and lose his case, he should be fined twice the costs. This was of course to discourage an appeal to law against the landlord, and is a specific illustration of a sentence which fell from Mr. Glad- stones lips, in the House of Commons. Referring to past Acts of Parliament with regard to Ireland, he said: They have provided and strengthened remedies unknown to the spirit of the English law, for the purpose of increasing the power of the landlord over his tenant. By another Act, Parliament intervened to set aside the decree of the common law respecting standing crops. At common law a standing or growing crop was considered part of the soil, and the landlord, although holding a judgment against his tenant, could not seize it. This tenant right Parliament refused to recognize, at)d empowered the landlord to send his keeper to take possession of the field and bear away the crop when ripe. As another innovation, Parliament granted to the landlord power of evicting his tenant for non-payment of rent, and of recovering possession of the land in cases in which he was not entitled to this remedy by the forms of his contract or by the rules of.common law. By such acts as these it occurred that, previous to 1870, the land laws of Ireland had changed somewhat from their original character, and that the Irish landlords had, through this change, obtained remedies unknown to those of England or Scotland. Such legal privileges are to be judged not as they would work when good landlords avail themselves of them, but when made the authority of unjust procedure by unprin- cipled land owners. Nor indeed is the misery which has been caused by their enforcement, the most important element in the study of Irish discontent. The fact that these and other Acts of Parliament overthrew what was recognized as the com- mon law of the land, that is, opposed customs held sacred, handed down by tradition and acted upon for generations, cre- ated in the heart of the native tenant the idea that Parliament 70 The Irish Land Question. [Jan., was a body the sympathies of which were entirely with the aristocracy, and that all law, the result of its deliberations, was entirely opposed to their interests and therefore held for them morally no binding force. Parliament had trampled upon their customs, sanctioned by the usage of centuries, and it is no cause for wonder that the Irish peasant felt himself fully justi- fied in evading, and in every way possible opposing the execu- tion of enactments. It is this fact, and not the naturally law- less disposition of the Celtic race, that I recognize as the true explanation of that wide-spread disregard of Parliamentary en- actments, referred to so frequently by writers upon Irish politics. In reality there exist in Ireland two codes of law; the one composed of the Acts of Parliament, re8ting upon the authority of the English government, the other resting upon the author- ity of the sentiment of the Irish peasantry. The judgments of the former are emitted from an authorized court, the sen- tences of which are followed by legal execution; the judg- ments of the latter spring from no recognized tribunal, but the sentences passed are none the less sure of execution because the executor must also be an assassin. Of the three enactments above mentioned, the one which pro- duced the greatest grievance was the third. This, as interpreted and practiced, came to mean the right on the part of the landlord to evict a tenant at will. It was not until the time of George I., that anything like eviction even for non-payment of rent was recognized, and through the granting of power to the land- lord of eviction at will, one of the oldest of the tenants rights, was annulled. To his eyes it was confiscation since it deprived him of all property right in his holding. The history of this tenant right shows its sanctity, for it has continued from the earliest times. There is strong reason for believing that very early in the history of the island, land was held as common property, and that the commons existing even at the present time are remnants of that communal tenure. It is also proba- ble that the change in their customs, which led to the division of the people into classes with varying rights, was analogous to the change which transformed Europe from a communal to a feudal society. Of the state of society upon the advent of the Norse adventurers, it is possible to speak with some degiee of 1881.] The 1r118h Land Que8tion. 71 assurance. Land at that time was held under three forms of tenure; commonage land, mensal land or land connected with the office of chief magistracy, and land held by the nobility. Part of the land held by the nobles was held as demesne land and the remainder was given over to tenants. The demesne land was cultivated by villeins of three classes, none of which possessed any political rights. First came the Bothachs or Cottiers, who held a right of settlement, probably as all that remained to them of their share of communal property ; a sec- ond class, the Sencleithe, the descendants of mercenaries or prisoners, who had acquired a right of settlement, possibly through the analogy of their condition to that of the Cottiers; a third class, the Fuidirs, foreigners, who might gain a right of settlement by forfeiting their rights as freemen. Service under two successive lords, however, regained for thetn this forfeited right. The tenants upon the remainder of the landed estates were of two kinds, called Saw Ceili and Da~r Ceili, that is, free. tenant and base-tenant. The relation of the former to the noble was analogous to that of knights service in feudal law, and of the latter to common socage. All that is of importance to us here is, to know that these tenants, as well as the laborers upon the demesne land, held rights in their tenements which the common law protected against the encroachments of the nobility. It thus appears that the right of security in tenure, which the Act of Parliament above referred to set aside, has for Ire- land the sacredness of antiquity. Of course, in form, it was modified by the successive conquests and settlements, but the idea of property in his holding has never been entirely up. rooted from the tenacious mind of the peasant. Yet previous to 1870 this idea had no practical influence, in the dealings of landlords and tenants, outside of the province of Ulster. In the other three provinces it had given way to the successive encroachments of landlords. The system of land tenure adopted by the northern province of Ireland, is commonly known as the Ulster Right or Ulster Custom. So far as the tenant is concerned it secured to him three rights. 72 like Irish Land Question. [Jan., 1. Security of tenure as long as the rent was paid and no injurious mode of farming followed. 2. The right to sell his holding at will, together with im- provements put upon the farm, to any person approved by the landlord. 3. Rent could not be determined by competition but by valuation. Under such a system of tenure let us ask who owns the land, the landlord or the tenant? To what kind of a holding does this system give rise? Certainly a holding for which neither England nor America presents any analogy. The landlord owns the land, but the tenant owns the right to live on it and work it. The former may sell his property in the estate, the latter may sell his property in the homestead. Such, briefly, is the Ulster tenant right, and, from best authorities it may be gathered that, as the result of even this much security, Ulster is by far the most prosperous of the four provinces of Ireland. In the other parts of Ireland, previous to 1870, this security did not exist. It had been crushed out. It may be expected therefore, that the relation between landlord and tenant was different. In other provinces than Ulster competitive rents have been paid for generations. By that term is meant that farms were advertised and let out at the rent offered by the highest bidder. This custom, which is in perfect harmony with laissez-faireisrn, has proved most disastrous to the pros. perity of Ireland. It has placed the culture of the land in the hands of shiftless and dishonest peasants, and forced those who would be thrifty, to become as shiftless as their neighbors. These are two grave charges, from an economic standpoint, to lay at the door of any system, but a moments consideration will show that competitive rents in Ireland, could produce no other result. The peasants of Ireland are land hungry. For every farm to let there are numberless bidders. In the language of econ- omy the demand for farms exceeds the supply of them, hence the rent which a farm will pay, must rise to that point at which no farmer can make any profit upon capital invested. Thus suppose a farm to give produce equal in value to 500. 1881.] like Irish Land Question. 73 The living expenses of the farmer are 100, he pays for labor 100, and interest on capital invested is 100; that is, it costs 300 to carry on the farm during the year. This 300 is all that the farmer can get. When rents are arranged by competi- tion, the rent of the farm will equal the remainder of the pro- ceeds of the farm, namely 200. If the occupier of the farm will not pay this rent, there are others who will. In the bid- ding of rents the natural rent will be all the excess of product over the cost of working the farm. This is the principle, though not the statement, oC iRicardos theory of rent under a system of free competition. In Ireland, however, the rent actually bid by tenants en- croaches even upon the cost of working the farm. The Irish peasant knows one mode of obtaining a living, and only one. To him there are three alternatives: land in Ireland, emigra- tion, or death. To death he is not inclined, emigration re- quires a little cash, hence land for him becomes a necessity. He will bid more rent than the land can pay under the mode of cultivation which his ignorance and poverty require him to adopt, and both he, in making the bid, and the estate agent, in accepting it, know that the bid indicates a higher rent than the land is worth or than will ever be paid. This is dishon- esty to begin with. The agent follows it out by squeezing from the reluctant tenant all he can possibly obtain and hold- ing the arrear.s over his head as a threat. The tenant follows out this programme of dishonesty by evading, so far as possible, the payment of all rent. Under such conditions it cannot otherwise occur, but that tenants and landlords should be arraigned against each other. This custom can but produce a shiftless tenantry, since it destroys hope and takes away ev cry incentive to industry. A man naturally energetic and industrious will be drawn down to the dead level of shiftlessness. Suppose that by extra exertion he improve his farm, increase its products and prepare himself to pay the rent agreed upon. His right of tenure is dependent upon the good will of the landlord , or more frequently that of his agent. His farm, unless held by lease, is open to re-rental every year. If by his energy, he has brought it into a state of cultivation so that a profit may be 74 The irish Land Question. [Jan., derived from the holding of it, this prospect of profit will attract other tenants, and they will bid higher than the rent he has agreed to pay. He finds himself obliged then, if he would retain control of his own improvements, to pay the advanced rent himself. He is thus bereft of every incentive to care and thrift, and, even against his will it may be, is drawn down to the general grade of cultivation, which, as described by a prominent writer, is to take from the soil what it gratuitously gives. Of course there are opposing factors at work. The land- lord may be humane, so that the tenants feel secure in their holdings and in the enjoyment of their improvements. Leases exist in some cases. But the above is the array of forces as they present themselves, with few exceptions, in the three southern provinces of Ireland; and a candid consideration of many statements upon this point leads me to the opinion that this system of competitive rents and all that it implies, is to be held responsible for the wretched agricultural and industrial condition of Ireland. Such was the form of land tenure in Ireland previous to 1870. The agitation of Irish claims, in one form or another, has never been long absent from the domestic politics of the British Kingdom. For a few years previous to the Gladstone Land Act, the land tenure question had been brought prominently into notice, as well by the great economic changes that were taking place as by agitation of agricultural grievances. As illustrating the economic condition of the island and the changes which had been going on, one may note the following. Of the entire extent of the island in 1870, one-half was given to pasture land, nearly one-fourth was bog or waste land, and a little more than one-quarter under cultivation. I give Cliffe Leslie as my authority for saying that between 1861 and 1869, 1,398,000 acres of land had gone out of cultivation. Of course it does not necessarily follow that the conversion of crop land into pasture land is always retrogressive, but this change shows, I think, that Ireland is being farmed in the interest of London rather than in that of the Irish people. If one go farther, and inquii-e if there has been any increase of pastural products corresponding to the increase of pasture land, he 1881.1 The Iri8h Land Que8tion. 75 finds that this change is truly retrogressive. This may be shown by comparing the number of horses, cattle, and pigs in Ireland in 1859, with the nnmber in 1869. The figures are as follows: 1859. Horses, 629, O~5. Cattle, 3,815,598. Pigs, 1,265,751 1869. 52~(,248. 3,~i27,O97. 1,O19,793 To offset this great falling off in horses, cattle, and pigs, there has been alone increase in the number of sheep raised and cared for. In eleven years, says Dr. Lyon Playfaire, speaking with reference to the same period, Ireland has lost the power of feeding more than 1,800,000 of her population, while Scotland, during that time, has gained the power of feeding about 300,000. How has this decay in the agricultural districts affected the towns? Certainly no one who understands the dependence of towns upon country need be told that Irish trade and industry have declined with agricultural prosperity. If one draw a line, says Mr. Leslie, from Dublin to the nearest point of Lough Swilly in the north, and another to Bantry Bay in the south, the angle contained by those lines between the capital and the Atlantic, covering about three-fourths of an island which ought to be studded with cities, fine country towns and smiling villages, does not include one large or flourishing city and includes hardly a town or village whose trade and popula- tion have not decreased in the last twenty years. It includes indeed but few which are not in a state of complete decay, in spite of the auxiliaries to town industry, mechanical, chemical, and intellectual which those twenty years have crQated. Such facts present a glimpse of the decay which had been going on previous to 1870, and, in the light of such facts, it is no matter for wonder that the best study and judgment of the great Premier was turned to that subject; nor are we sur- prised that he discerned the true cause of retrogression in the want of security felt by the tenants, not only as regards their holdings, but as touching the continued enjoyment of their own improvements. Nor did he hesitate, though at the charge of confiscation on the part of Tory land owners and politicians, to apply, so far as in his power lay at that time, the proper remedy. 76 The Iri8h Land Que8tion. [Jan., Mr. Gladstones Land Act of 1870 contained two principles. First, the recognition of the Ulster custom as embracing the sanctity of law in Ulster and as desirable for the whole Island. Second, The recognition of the superiority of peasant pro- prietorship over any form of tenantry whatever, and the right of the Government to aid peasants to become holders in fee- simple. It is upon these two principles and the means adopted for their realization that any judgment of the Irish Land Act must be based. It was previously noticed that this Ulster custom respecting holdings, was a part of the old common law. It was also noticed that certain acts of Parliament had curtailed the rights which this custom had secured to the tenants, and brought about a state of chronic revolt, which must always attend the struggle for supremacy between two systems of law.* It was the doing away with this antagonism between hereditary cus- tom and legislative enactment, that Mr. Gladstone purposed to effect in drawing the first clause of his famous bill. This clause applied to Ulster alone, and declared that the Ulster tenant right custom, or usage known under that name, should be considered part of the organic law of the realm. It appears a matter of some surprise, that this Act did not carefully define these customs and usages legalized by Parlia- ment, but the framing of an accurate definition appeared ~o difficult, so Mr. Gladstone afterwards declared, that it was considered best to confide that duty to the courts of law. That is, the legislative body passed an Act which embodied certain principles, while the interpretation of the Act and the specific application of the principles were referred to the court. It could but occur that such an arrangement, though per- haps wise in itself, should have led to somewhat extended leg- islation, the main point of dispute being the exact nature of the Ulster custom. A decision in the case of Graham vs. Earl of Erne declared that custom to embody the following points: * Mr. Longfield, in an Article in the Fortniqhtly Review for August, states that the Ulster custom originated at the close of the last century. Mr. Longfield is con- sidered good authority upon all questions relating to the history of Irish law, but I confess it is impossible for me to understand this statement. It can at most be but technically true, for it is certain that the idea of ownership in holdings can be traced from earliest historic dates. 1881.] The Iri8h Land Que8tion. 1. The right or custom in general of yearly tenants, or those deriving through them, to continue in undisturbed possession so long as they act properly and pay their rents. This gave the yearly tenant a perpetual lease for good behavior, and ren- dered him independent of the landlord. 2. The correlative right of the landlord periodically to raise the rent, so as to give him a just, fair, and full participa- tion in the increased value of the land, but not so as to extin- guish the tenants interest by imposing a rack rent A word upon rent will show the importance of this interpre- tation. What is rent? I think that Professor Bonamy Price defines it properly, when he says: Rent is surplus profit, that is excess of profit after repayment of the whole cost of produc~ tion, beyond the legitimate profit which belongs to the tenant as a manufacturer of agricultural produce. Rent is to land what profit is to invested capital. The sburce of rent is the productiveness of the soil; the cause of an increase in rent is an increase in either the value or the amount of agricultural pro- ducts, with no corresponding increase in cost of production. The explanation of varying rates of rent upon varying grades of soil, is the different degrees of productiveness which each possesses combined with its position as regards the market. The question as to who holds property in rent is a legal ques- tion, and one decided for the province of Ulster according to the above interpretation of the court. By the application of capital and labor to land, as well as by the general advance of population and increase of market facilities, the value of the proceeds arising from a farm must increase. Who is to have the advantage of this increased value? Is it to go to the land- lord or the tenant? Economists have usually divided the proceeds of land into three- parts: a. The return for labor expended, or wages. 6. The return for capital expended, or interest. c. The excess of the pi-oceeds from land over wages and interest, or rent. Econ- oniists, too, have usually assumed that all rent should go to the landlord. The Ulster custom was a protest against this decis- ion, and the intel-pretation of the Act under consideration recognized this protest as just, when it declared that the raising of the rent, permitted periodically, should not be carried so far ZLhe Iri8h Land Que8tion. [Jan., as to extinguish the tenants interest. iDid the landlord receive all the rent arising from the farm, the interest of the tenant must necessarily be extinguished, and his holding would have no marketable value. He could sell his improvements, but not his holding, since that would yield no profit and hence be worthless. If a landlord took all the rent, all that an in- coming tenant could calculate upon would be the return for his labor, viz: his wages, and the return from tenant improve- ments, for which he must pay the outgoing tenant a capitalized sum. The wages, and interest upon this sum, is all he could draw from the farm, for by the supposition, the landlord receives all the rent. If, however, the actual rent be divided between landlord and tenant, part going to the landlord under the name of rent, and part going to the tenant as income from his holding, the tenants interest is by no means destroyed, since the capitalized sum ~of this income from his holding would be- come a definite property, for which an incoming tenant must pay. In buying this tenant right, he buys the right to par- take with the landlord of rent. This right is protected by the Act, when it declares the imposing of rack rents to be ille- gal. In fact, then, the actual effect of the Land Act of 1870, is to recognize before the law what is equivalent to a joint own- ership in land between landlord and tenant. Clauses third and fourth of the court decision above cited, repeat what has already been referred to; the right of the ten- ant to sell his holding, and the right of the landlord to be con- sulted and to exercise a potential voice in the approval or disapproval of the proposed assignee. The fifth clause pro- vides that, if the landlord desire to take land from the tenant for his own purposes, he shall be rendered liable to the tenant for damages, equal to the fair value of the tenant right. Such are the conditions of the Gladstone Land Act, as ap- plied to Ulster. There may be question as regards the useful. ness of a landed gentry at all, but if accepted, whether as desi. rable or an encumbrance upon the land which cannot at pres- ent be gotten rid of, all must admit that Mr. Gladstones Act recognizes the immediate need of Ireland. The tenant has as- sured to him security of tenure, or damages for ejeetment; enjoyment of his improvements, and participation in the ad- 1881j like Iri8h Laind Que8tion. 79 vanced value of farm produce, arising from the advancement of civilization or greater application of capital and labor. lie has thus great incentive to activity and thrift. The landlord, too, finds it for his interest to increase the amount and value of what the land produces, since that is the only way in which he can raise his rent. In Ulster both landlord and tenant ap- pear to be quite well satisfied with the Act. Let us now turn to consider the other provinces, Leinster, Munster, and Connaught. In these provinces the Act is not regarded as a complete solution of the problem. In certain counties leagues have been cstablished, with th~ avowed object of protecting the tenant right under the Act. This appears at first strange, w hen it is considered that the Act itself was drawn for the protection and amelioration of tenants, and would lead us to expect that its conditions were such that landlords could take advantage of it, to the detriment of those dependent upon them. In Ulster, where a tenant right already existed, it was suffi- cient for Parliament to legalize common usage; but the Ulster custom could not in this manner be secured to the other parts of the island, inasmuch as there it was not understood. For the purpose, therefore, of granting all tenants the same protec- tion, it was necessary that the Act should be more specific in its statements and conditions. There are three sections of this Act which affect particularly the provinces other than Ulster. By the third section, any tenant who is disturbed in his holding, may i-eceive compensation upon quitting it; in other words, a pecuniary fine is placed on eviction. A lawyer would immediately ask, what is meant by disturbance? The answer is, any eviction caused by no fault of the tenant, is a disturbance. The non-payment of rent, as cause of evic- tion, would not be included under this head; eviction for the purpose of putting cultivated land into pasture land, would be judged a disturbance. By the fourth section, the tenant is secured compensation for improvements which he or his predecessors in title may have made. Previodsly the landlord had, at the close of any ten- ancy, considered himself entitled to all improvements made on the land except recognized fixtures. This is one of the most important of the sections of the Land Act of 1870. 80 The kish Land Questwn. [Jan., By the seventh section it was declared that if a tenant had paid money on account of coming into his holding, on quit- ting it, he should receive some compensation for such pay- men t. By these three sections is defined the tenant right which the Act created for the peasants of Southern Ireland. It is not exactly the Ulster right, but is something like it. A property in the holding may grow out of it, but was not necessarily cre- ated by it. The hope of tbe Gladstone government was, that the pecuniary fine imposed on landlords for careless evictions, would sufficiently secure the tenants to make them feel an inter- est in improved cultivation. Experience has shown this hope to have been vain. The Act of 1870 has been most unfortu- nate in those districts where interference was the most needed. It soon became apparent to the landlords that an estate in the hands of a few large farmers was more manageable, and in every way more desirable, than an estate divided among a large num- ber of peasant tenants; and it was also discovered that, on ac- count of the new kind of property which could be created under the Act, the process of change was not altogether unprofitable to them. The fine imposed upon a landlord for eviction varied accord- ing to the value of the holding, sub always to the decision of an established commission, which in practice has never granted an evicted tenant as large a compensation as the Act permitted. Thus the highest amounts payable to tenants whose holdings were valued under 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, and 100 are respectively seven, six, five, four, three, and two years rent. From this it appears that, as the size of the farmers holding increases, the liability for damages decreases. Compare the extremes of the cases above submitted, that of one farm under a rental of 100, or ten farms under as many tenants, with rentals each of 10. For the eviction of the large farmer the landlord renders himself liable to the payment of 200; for the eviction of the ten tenants he renders himself liable to the payment of 700, making a difference of 500, supposing he wished to turn his estate into pasture land. Thus, the change once effected, his estate is in a more desirable position with ref- erence to the Act than before. 1831.] The 1rn8h Land Que8tion,. 81 Again, a large farmer, one paying over 50 rental, may contract himself out of the Act, viz: sign papers that under no condition will he claim protection under it. Tenants paying less than 50 rental were prohibited this freedom of contract. Without this restriction, the Land Act would have been a dead letter, for tenants would have preferred to sign written undertakings rather than run the chances of eviction. On account of this provision, also, a landlord would choose large farmers. But further, the Act of 1870, by creating the conditions out of which a tenant right might grow, which previously was not claimed by the peasants, created conditions which rendered it profitable for the owner of an estate to evict the small tenants and relet the land thus reclaimed. Says a writer in Frazer s Magazine: Experience has shown that in Leinster, Con- naught and Munster, the tenant who is allowed to sell his interest in his holding, receives as large a price as in Ulster. There it has been shown that the average price is from fifteen to twenty-one years purchase. Thus, if a landlord were to evict a tenant who paid 10 a year rent, the highest he would be ordered to pay under the Act would be 70, but if he were immediately afterward to put up the holding for sale, he would receive for it from one hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds. It now becomes apparent why evictions have not ceased since 1870, and one can understand what the farmers clubs mean, when they state their object to be to protect tenant rights under the Act, and to have the Act amended. Jn 1870, there were 661,931 holdings in Ireland, four-fifths of which were on thirty acres or under, that is, holdings disadvantageous to the landlords. I turn aside reluctantly from this part of my discussion. Such questions as absenteeism, corporation -landlordism, agent management, the decay of manufactures, which will not permit the land of Ireland to be held in large holdings except that immediate suffering follow the change; these and many other questions force their claims upon attention; but their claims cannot now be recognized, as the second great principle embodied in the Gladstone Land Act, awaits consideration. VOL. IV. 6 82 The Irish Land Que8tion. LJan., This principle is a recognition of the superiority of peasant proprietorship over any form of tenure whatever, and the right of the government to assist peasants to become proprie- tors in full of their holdings. The Act permitted the govern- ment, through a Board of Works, to advance two-thirds of the purchase money in any case where the landlord was willing to selL Nothing like a forced sale, or the purchase by the government of the estates, was embodied in the Act. Of peasant proprietorship nothing need here be said, nor do I deem it necessary to utter an apology for my rudeness, in setting aside without consideration the objection, that the Celtic character is not fit to make a peasant proprietor out of. It is of much more importance to inquire if this provision for the creation of such a class of proprietors, which is called the Bright clause, has any tendency to produce the desired result? If the supporters of this clause expected any rapid change in the tenure of land, they were doomed to disappointment. The landlord, not being forced to sell, would only part with his estate for pecuniary considerations, and it has ever been found to be more advantageous to him to sell his estate as a whole to an incoming landlord, than to sell it in small farms to the tenants. The explanation of this fact lies in the complexity of Eng- lish law for the transfer of real estate, which renders such a transfer very expensive. For example, the sale of a farm pay- ing 20 rental, costs a sum equal to one-half the purchase money to procure a clear title. This exorbitant cost must deter the tenant from offering as much for land per acre, as one who bids for the entire estate. To the small tenant the cQst of a title is fifty per cent. of the purchase money. He cannot stand this, and hence will not offer equal to the market price of the land. To the one who buys the entire estate, however, this expense reduces itself to a small percentage of the sum paid, and in consequence, he overbids the tenant. A reform in the law for the transfer of real estate, rendering it more simple, might overcome this obstacle to the establishment of a peasant proprietorship in Ireland, but until some such reform takes place one cannot hope much from this offer of pecunia~ry assistance on the part of the government. Moreover, ignorance 1881.] 1Y~e Iri8h Land Que~ion. 83 on the part of the peasant of the real advantage to be gained from ownership, deters him from incurring any great risk to become a proprietor. Such are the principles embodied in the Land Act of 1870, from which so much was hoped; but from a contemplation of the workings of which, so little is seen to have been accom- plished. Does this argue any thing against the Act? Yes, against its completeness; not however against the principles it embodies. The roots of Irish discontent are twined about the rocks of seven centuries of misrule and misunderstanding. Shall an Act be condemned because in ten years it has not counteracted the influence of seven hundred? It will require many decades, even under the most advantageous circuinstan- ces, for Ireland to divorce herself from her past. The states- men of England may censure the acts of previous statesmen, but the problems which they are called upon to solve are conditioned by the very acts they censure. A nation is an organism of perpetual life, and can never escape the responsi- bility of past decisions. Englands dealings with Ireland in the past have been all wrong, and even well-meaning statesmen cannot escape the evil effects of that rule. Could Ireland to- day be set back where she was when ilenry II. first claimed ownership; could her entire past be cut from behind her; could Irish character be as it was before influenced by the Christian and Teutonic civilizations, one might then be as hopeful as now that these Celts, as a people, would speedily assume a proud position among the Nations. Mr. Gladstones Act is not to be criticised in the light of the practical results which it has worked. It is but the first step in a reform which Ireland demands and must have, and as such, together with the Disestablishment Act of 1868, may be said to present to Ireland the brightest prospects which she has had since coming under British rule. Previous to the late accession of the Liberal party to power, two propositions were placed before the public for the amelio- ration of Irish distress; the one by a member of the Disi-aeli government, the other by an ex-member of the Gladstone cabinet. Sir Stafford Northcote, in a speech introducing a bill which afterwards became a law, proposed that the govern- 84 The Iri8h Land Que8tion. [Jan., ment be empowered to loan money to Irish landlords, at the rate of one per cent., for the improvement of their estates. That was Toryism; legislation for the upper classes. Mr. Bright proposed that the government buy all estates offered for sale, and resell in small farms on thirty six years time; and further, that the government buy by forced sales, for the same purpose, all lands held by corporations. This is Liberalism; recognition of the claims of the lower classes. I cannot understand how that Mr. Northcote, or the govern- ment he represented, could have been sanguine of any perma- nent beneficial results arising from such a loan. He must have forgotten that nearly one-half of the land of Ireland is held by absentees, no small part of it by corporations, and neither absentees nor corporations care at all for the land except as a source of income. He must have forgotten that improvement upon the land by jhe landlord leads but to an in- crease of rent, not to an amelioration of the condition of the peasant. He must have forgotten that the mainspring of all activity is self-interest, and that hope in the breasts of the mass of the people can alone make the desert to blossom like the rose. Mr. Bright, whose line sense of justice does honor to the sect of which he is a member, has forgotten none of these things. He recognizes that the essence of the problem is to transfer the legal title in land from the nobility to the ten- antry. He is not deterred by the cry that even then there will not be land enough for all, for he knows that industrial advancement is based upon agricultural prosperity, and that if the Irish farming interest can be brought into a flourishing condition, the towns and factories will prosper. The hope of Ireland lies with the great Liberal party of England. It was this party which passed the Act of 1870, thus committing itself to the principles which it embodies, and it is this party which must so develop and amend the Act as to make it fulfill its purpose. This party is at present in power, and has taken under consideration the Irish Question. A committee is now sitting in Dublin gathering facts respect. ing the working of the Act, that its amendment may be ration- ally performed. The compensation for disturbance bill, 1881.] Tke Irish Land Question~. 85 bad it become a law, could not have been considered a step in the development of the old Act. It was only a temporary measure to meet exceptional conditions. The harvests of 1877 and 1878 were bad; that of 1879 a total failure. Famine was in the land. Tenants could not pay their rents, and under the Land Act evictions for non-payment of rent were followed by no compensation to the tenant. Evictions were going on at an alarming rate. In 1878 there were 843; in 1879, 1,698; and in the first five months and twenty days of 1880, there were 1,060. It was simply the purpose of the Forster bill to sus- pend for a limited Lime, in certain provinces, the right of the landlord to evict for any purpose whatever, without compensa- tion. The defense of the bill was the same as the apology for a bankrupt law. The short session did not permit a more complete one. When, however, Parliament shall meet after its vacation, we may expect a carefully prepared bill with the avowed pur- pose of further development and amendment of the Act of 1870, and Mr. Gladstone never disappoints his friends in a just hope. 86 The World8 Conver8ion. [Jan., ARTICLE VTHE TEACHING OF CHURCH HISTORY AS TO THE METHOD OF THE WORLDS CON- VERSION. WE propose, in the present Article, to inquire what doctrines are requisite, and what means and measures are either requi- site, or the most successful, in causing or aiding revivals of religion, or, the spiritual conquests of the gospel, in any form. In prosecuting these investigjations it is not intended to in- quire so much into the nature of doctrines, m cans, and meas- ures, as into their historical adaptation and effectiveness. 1. What doctrines are essential to the existence of revivals of religion? No age preceding this has been its equal in the fashion of decrying doctrine. The objectors profess to wel- come precepts, but fail to consider that precepts unsupported by doctrines are valueless. Dr. N. W. Taylor, of New Haven Theological Seminary, in his Practical Sermons, has this sentence: The doctrines of the Bible, as distinguished from its precepts, are those truths which supply the motives to holy obedience. ,* Strike out the doctrines, and you annihilate both the motives to obedience, and obedience itself. Right doctrines, then, must be imbedded in the human mind, or we shall have no revivals. This does not imply that we are to preach nothing else but doctrines, yet we are to preach them. The kinds of doctrines that are necessary to ievivals, are those which are in general termed evangelical. They get their descriptive title, evangelical, from the fact that by history they have been proven so useful and essential in evangelizing, in bearing the good news of salvation to the human heart. The evangelical doctrines, are they new or old? Are they certainly in the Scriptures, and have they been long lost in the worlds chief history, and of late found again, revived? They are in the Scriptures, and came out from them, and have always continued among those with whom religion prospered. Though the philosophies have changed with which the doctrines have been held, the doctrines themselves have wonderfully kept * Page 1& ?.

86 The World8 Conver8ion. [Jan., ARTICLE VTHE TEACHING OF CHURCH HISTORY AS TO THE METHOD OF THE WORLDS CON- VERSION. WE propose, in the present Article, to inquire what doctrines are requisite, and what means and measures are either requi- site, or the most successful, in causing or aiding revivals of religion, or, the spiritual conquests of the gospel, in any form. In prosecuting these investigjations it is not intended to in- quire so much into the nature of doctrines, m cans, and meas- ures, as into their historical adaptation and effectiveness. 1. What doctrines are essential to the existence of revivals of religion? No age preceding this has been its equal in the fashion of decrying doctrine. The objectors profess to wel- come precepts, but fail to consider that precepts unsupported by doctrines are valueless. Dr. N. W. Taylor, of New Haven Theological Seminary, in his Practical Sermons, has this sentence: The doctrines of the Bible, as distinguished from its precepts, are those truths which supply the motives to holy obedience. ,* Strike out the doctrines, and you annihilate both the motives to obedience, and obedience itself. Right doctrines, then, must be imbedded in the human mind, or we shall have no revivals. This does not imply that we are to preach nothing else but doctrines, yet we are to preach them. The kinds of doctrines that are necessary to ievivals, are those which are in general termed evangelical. They get their descriptive title, evangelical, from the fact that by history they have been proven so useful and essential in evangelizing, in bearing the good news of salvation to the human heart. The evangelical doctrines, are they new or old? Are they certainly in the Scriptures, and have they been long lost in the worlds chief history, and of late found again, revived? They are in the Scriptures, and came out from them, and have always continued among those with whom religion prospered. Though the philosophies have changed with which the doctrines have been held, the doctrines themselves have wonderfully kept * Page 1& ?. 1881.1 The TFcyrld8 Convemion. 87 their identity, and their march among men more or less from the days of Christ until now. It is one of the evidences of Christianity that the evangelical doctrines have been so stead- fast, and have so steadfastly been the salvation of souls, and of nations. If we consult such men as ilagenbach and Shedd in their histories of doctrine, we find all along through the centu- ries, in substance, the same views respecting the chief elements of the gospel, among those who were blessed in winning souls. They have not always been agreed as to the mode of doctrines, but they have been in respect to their presentation. They have accorded with the natural impression made by the Scrip- tures. So that if in some theories they have been in error, they have not put forward those errors, or have so truly preached the gospel itself that it has corrected the errors. Yet it has not been safe to allow the errors to go on unchallenged and unchecked; for, in a few generations or less they would undermine and displace the truth. Early Christianity spread under the evangelical doctrines. Take Sabellianism on the one hand; did it contribute to the conversion of souls, and the Christianization of nations? To answer this question, look into the writings of Eusebius, bishop of Ca~sarea, A. D. 315, and of Socrates, Sozomen, and Theo- doret, church historians about a century later. They account Sabellianism, or the denial of the Trinity beyond a temporary manifestation, a heresy.* And yet they write, Eusebius espe- cially, in glowing terms concerning the propagation of Chris. tianity. Of course they understood that Sabellianism was no help, but a hindrance to the propagation. Besides, Sabellius himself professed to believe that the Father and Son were the ~same in substance,t and that in that he sufficiently accorded with the real Trinitarians, though his doctrine really took away all distinction between the Father and the Logos.~ He and his followers therefore undoubtedly preached the gospel, in general, in Scripture language, which naturally gives the * Bohns Ecci. Lib., Euseb., pp. 258, 259; Thid., Soc., p. 105; Ibid., Sozo., p. 77; Thid., Theod., pp. 24, 210. ~ Neand. Ch. Just., vol. i., pp. 595, 596, Ed. 1852; Mosheims lust. Christ., vol. ii., pp. 217, 218. ~ Neand. 6%. Hist., voL 1., pp. 297, 298; Moshelins lust. Christ., voL ii., pp. 223 224. Shedd, fist. Chris. Doc., vol. ii., p. 436. 88 The World,, Conversion. [Jan., impression that there is an eternal distinction between the Father, Son, and Spirit. Moreover, No6tus, who was in sub- stance a Sabellian before Sabellius, when brought before pres- byters to give an account of his peculiar views, according to Neander exclaimed, Of what evil am I guilty, when I glorify Christ ?* Such was the trend with all that class. They claimed substantial unity with the Trinitarians proper; their peculiar views were theoretical rather than practical; and so, it was not by the propagation of those tenets, but rather of the opposite, that the conversion of men was generally secured. Sabellianism wherever held in modern times, has done no more for the conversion of the world than it did in the early Chris- tian era. It has, indeed, had no recognition in the ordinary preaching of its advocates. They have in general been con- tent to let the Scriptures make their own impression, which is, that Christ had a nature other than merely that of the Father in the human body. So far as Schleiermachers theology was of the Sabellian rather than the Athanasian cast, it was not his preaching or teaching of Sabellianism, but of the gospel, that gave him any particular agency in the transition from Rationalism to the evangelical faith near the close of the last century.t Now, did Arianism have any part in evangelizing men in the early Christian period? Or, was it the opposite doctrine, that of the eternal existence, and true Divinity, as well as humanity, of Christ, which, under God, wrought the salvation of men? The latter. Though Arianism spread widely from the fourth to the seventh centuries,4 it was as an ism, a the- ory, proud and boastful in its adherents, and not as a power to save souls. Under its sway, or notwithstanding its spread; nominal religion made aggressions against Paganism, but it was in itself destitute of power towards making true disciples of Christ. It in general took the language of Scripture, and in that was the power. But the fact that it was heresy,~~ * Oh. Hist., vol. i., p. 584. t Yew Amer. Oyclo., vol. xiv., p. 409, ed. 1868; Neander, Hist. Ch. Dogmas, Bohns Stand. Lib., p. 148. ~ McClintock and Strong, Cyc., vol. i., p. 388. Shedd, Jilist. Chris. Doc., vol. ii., p. 436. ~ Socrates, Bohns Ecci. TAb., p. 6. 1881.] f/ike 1Forld~ Con~ver8ion. 89 opposed to orthodoxy, would in itself indicate that it was det- rirnental to the propagation of pure Christianity, unless there were some definite and reliable testimony that it really ad- vanced true heart-religion. No such testimony appears. Rather the contrary; which in the nature of the case might be expected. For to hold and teach that Christ has or had only a finite nature, tends directly and absolutely to decrease, and not to extend, his religion. Accordingly we find it to be the record of Church history during the centuries subsequent to the reign of Arianism and other heresies, that theology, such as it was, had little to say about Christ, or his work, or his merits. The Arians. much more often than their oppo- nents, showed a false fire,* an evil spirit, were less under the control of Divine grace, and less likely to have success in win- ning men into the realm of grace. Pelagianism did not deny the fundamental, but some of the more recondite doctrines of the gospel. But extreme Pelagi. anismmade so perhaps more by some of the followers of Pelagius than by himself,twas not divinely owned in chang- ing men from heathenism or other irreligion, to Christianity. Its denial of human corruption proceeding from the fall of Adam, and its undue exaltation of good works, by regarding them as an addition to faith rather than as the fruit of it,t and other -evil doctrines or tendencies, were inimical to real evangelization. Nor was it the most rigid Augustinianism, sometimes made worse by his followers than by Augustine himself, that was the most successful in spreading the gospel. A Serni-Pelagianism, and a modified Augustinianism, meeting together and partially coalescing or agreeing in mutual co6p. eration, seem to have been the most owned of God in ex- tending the knowledge and power of his grace. When religion was revived under the labors of Wickliffe and his associates and followers in England, A. D. 1360, and under iluss and his co-laborers in Bohemia, A. D. 1402, it was a reviving of evangelical doctrines in the minds and hearts * Socrates, Bolins Ecci. Lib., p. 314; Sozomen, Ibid., pp. 434, 435, Neander, Cli. Bi.st., vol. ii., p. 424. ~ Neander, Ch. fist., vol. ii., pp. 5~958l. Ibid., pp. 625, 626; Sliedd, Hist. Chris. Doc., voL ii., p. 101. 90 The Worlds Conversion. [Jan., of the people. iluss subscribed to most of the forty-five theses of Wickliffe. And while those theses were many of them protests against corruptions in the Romish Church, such as indulgences, confessions, absolution, extreme , tran- substantiation, prayers to saints, papal supremacy, they were also restatements of vital Christian doctrines; as, the Scrip- tures our only infallible guide, the merit of Christ the only basis of redemption, true faith in Christ sufficient for salva- tion, the impossibility of pleasing God without faith, the elec- tion of grace. Yet, since Russ opposition to the corruptions in the iRornish Church was more of a practical than a dog- matic character,* the value of the reforms instituted by him in his native land is not to be measured by the number of theses he propounded or defei~ded. The great work he began and pursued was in the interest of evangelical religion. Jerome of Prague, colleague of Huss in Bohemia, probably received the doctrines of this early reformation while copying. the works of Wickliffe at Oxford. He subsequently preached at Paris to great multitudes against the corruptions of the Church. And afterwards in Bohemia, he at first privately advocated the same doctrines that Russ did, and A. D. 1408 he publicly identified himself with his views, and was burned at the stake May 30, 1416.t John Wessel of Groningen, whom ilagenbach distinguishes as the forerunner of Luther,t held high spiritual ideas of religion, though sometimes shading them into mysticism, received the Scriptures and not the Church as the living source of vital faith, rejected papal supremacy, indulgences, and purgatory as held by the Romish Church, and has received fitting characterization by Meier thus: Though himself a scholastic divine, he announced that scholasticism would soon cease to exist, asserted that Scripture is the only foundation of faith, faith the sole ground of justification without works, and urged the spiritual nature of a religious life. This was a revival of ti-ue doctrine, and true religion. It gives us another glimpse of the true method of the worlds conversion. * Hagenbach, Hist. Docs., vol. i., p. 409. + Hagenbach, R~t. Docs., vol. i., p. 408; vol. ii., p. 104; Amer. Cyc., vol. ix., p. 782. 4 VoL i, p. 409. Hagenbacli, lust. Docs., vol. i, p. 410. 1881.] The TYorld8 Con~ver8wn. 91 The Reformation of the sixteenth century being to a wide extent an outgrowth of the revival of pure religion in the age of Wickliffe, Russ, and their co-laborers, we may well look for the propagation of the same doctrines in that period. And we find that even ilume makes this notable double statement, that Wickliffe obtained his doctrines by a search into the Scriptures and ecclesiastical antiquity, and that those doctrines were nearly the same as those afterwards propagated by the reformers of the sixteenth century.* It is highly significant that there was this community of doctrine between Wickliffe and Huss and their adherents in the two different countries in the fourteenth century, on the one hand, and on the other, the reformers and their millions following them in the sixteenth century. And it is a concession worth bearing in mind, that one of the most acute and philosophical of all unbelievers, Hume, who was at the same time one of the most accurate of historians, where prejudice did not influence him, testifies that the leader, and one of the most able, of all this long line of reformers, obtained his (loctrines by a search into the Bible, and into the writings of the fathers of the few centuries suc- ceeding the apostles. These facts give a strong indication of the doctrines we ought to believe, and which in part must be absolutely relied upon for the worlds conversion. The fre- quent stigma cast now by some on the preaching of Christs righteousness, as though that were inimical to practical right- eousness, is well rebutted by the fact, that the preaching and acceptance of Christs righteousness, in the true sense, has been one of the mightiest of all agencies for the conversion, reforma- tion, and practical righteousness of men, through all the cen- turies of Christian history. But, as early Christianity was followed by defections from the faith in Sabellianism, Arianism, and other errors inimical to evangelical truth, so the Reformation was succeeded by more or less similar errors, or doctrines, which though appearing in a very different age, have proven no less serious obstacles to the worlds conversion. Socinianism has shown itself the chief of the errors which have assumed friendship to Christianity. * TIi3t. Eng., vol. ii., p. 319. Harper ed., 1850. 92 Tite World8 Conver8ion. [Jan., Though of various classes or grades, they have all denied the true Deity of Christ, which denial at once depreciates Christianity, and hinders the worlds conversion to it. Socinianism, which is in part a renewal of Arianism, became more defined and disseminated through the writings of the younger Socinus. He denied not only the true Divinity of Christ, but also the vica- rious atonement by Christ, the Trinity, the native and total depravity of man, and added to these a denial of the personal- ity of Satan, and of the endless duration of future punish- ment.* The dividing line between Arminianism and Calvinism has not been such as to place either beyond the pale of evangelical Christianity. Both Arminians and Calvinists have been suc- cessful in leading men within the fold of Christ. Both classes have agreed upon the fundamental truths of the gospel. Pro- fessor Shedd, in discussing the history of the controversy be- tween the two, remarks: The whole of modern evangelical Christendom being ranged partly upon one side, and partly upon the other side of the line that separates these two sys- terns; . - . both parties alike rejecting the Socinianism which had come into existence, and which corresponds to the Pela- gianism of the Ancient Church.t Yet, undoubtedly, both Arminianisin and Calvinism have contained some theories or elements which have not had the most benign effect in the con- version of souls. Of course, so far as these have been ascer- tained, they should be discarded; and when that is done, the two systems will be more nearly one. The more recent history of religious affairs, conclusively shows, that the aggressions of Christianity by the conversion of men, have been through the dissemination of the evangeli- cal doctrines. Let but one of the fundamental evangelical doc- trines be denied, and the blessing in winning souls is stayed. Unitarians and Universalists in general confess, not only that they do not succeed in having what are technically known as revivals, which, however, many of them oppose, but, also, that they do not succeed in enlarging their own communions as the orthodox denominations do theirs; and they have to try to be contented with the signs of their peculiar beliefs sprinkled * Am. cyc., vol. xiv., p. ~66. Bi:st. Chri8t. Doct., voL ii., p. 199. 1881.] The JYorld8 Con~ver8ton. 93 among the nominally evangelical churches. No denomina- tions but the evangelical are doing any appreciable work towards converting the heathen to the Christian faith. No successful revival preachers, whether pastors or evangelists, have distinctively rejected any of the fundamental Christian doctiines. All revivals since the Reformation as well as be- fore, have been marked by the presence of evangelical truth. It would be an utter anomaly, and a surprise to all, if a preacher, denying the Deity of Christ, or His propitiation for sinners, or the limitation of probation to this life, were to be sig- nally blessed in the conversion of souls. I have not found one who preaches that there is a day of hope after death, for sinners dying impenitent, who is really successful in gain- ing converts to Christ- Many who have tried such preaching by experience, acknowledge that it is i~itterly hopeless of good fruits in the conversion of souls. Reaching nearly this point in the discussion, I incidentally find the following summary made by Rev. J. C. Ryle, formerly of Oxford, now Bishop of Liverpool, of the substance and subject matter of the preaqhing which produced such wonder- ful effect a hundred years ago. The sufficiency and suprem- acy of holy Scripture, The total corruption of human na- ture, Christs death upon the cross the only satisfaction for mans sin, Justification by faith, The universal necessity of heart-conversion and a new creation by the Holy Spirit, Inseparable connection between true faith and personal holi- ness, and Gods eternal hatred against sin, and Gods love towards sinners, with nothing of a love lower than hell, and nothing of a heaven where holy and unholy are all at length to find admission.* I conclude from this review of Church history, that the dissemination of the evangelical doctrines of the Christian faith, is an absolute necessity to the worlds conver- sion. Not much space is left to consider Means and Measures. 2. The means for the worlds conversion. First among human means is the living preacher. This is so evident, and church history so evidently accords with the Scriptures on this point, that I need no more than call atten- tion to the fact. * The Christian Leaders of the last Century; or, England a hundred years ago, pp. 2528. 94 The lforlds Converswn. [Jan., Secondly, among the means for the worlds conversion may properly be named revivals of religion. These have come to mean, not merely the reviving of piety where it has before ex- isted, but also the originating of it where it has not before been. They without exception embrace the work of the Holy Spirit in renewing and in sanctifying the soul. Christians need revi- vals to put them farther on in the upward way of holiness. They need them to make them of more service in securing re- vivals for others. Revivals work according to the philosophy of the human mind, and the divinely created laws of human society. Men may therefore use means to promote them after they are begun; for, they may employ mental philosophy, and codperate with actual laws in nature. They may use means to obtain the beginning, as well as to secure the continuance of revivals; for, God gives the Holy Spirit in answer to prayer, and He blesses the means for spiritual quickening in our own and in others souls. Revivals are not to be looked upon as wholly sovereign gifts independent of mans agency. God will give the Holy Spirit to Christians if they suitably ask. If they become filled with the Spirit, the blessing will overflow upon others from time to time, and revivals will be the result. Therefore revivafs are a means which men can use for the con- version of the world. The conversion of one, two, or three, we do not call a revival. The quickening of many Christians, and the conversion of many of the impenitent, we do term a revival. And mankind increase, and the generations pass away, so rapidly, that many seasons which give each many conversions, are absolutely needed for the worlds conversion. A moderate growth is not enough. Particularly it is not enough, for churches to go by the year, and by tens of years, with scarcely enough conversions to make good the depletion caused by death. This reasoning from the nature of revivals, which prophesies the necessity of them for the worlds conversion, is sustained by actual history. Without revivals we no where see a suffi- cient advance in righteousness to warrant any just expectation of the worlds conversion. Catechetical instruction, so far as history speaks, gives no sufficient ground of hope without revivals. Something answering to catechetical instruction is 188L] JIie Tforld8 Con,verston. 95 needed for the most powerful and effective revivals. The sys- tem of church instruction and priestly confirmation is in its history devoid of the needful promise. Family Christian nur- ture, though vastly serviceable for revivals, cannot dispense with them, and yet give, according to its history, any encour- agement that the world will be brought to Christ. It is known that Dr. Bushnell intensely felt at one time in his life, that his system of Christian nurture was insufficient, that a revival was needed. Having prayed for that, and used special means for it, even to calling in an evangelist to his aid, and having en- joyed a revival among his own people, he afterwards wrote to a friend, that that revival was probably the greatest v~ork of his life. His views underwent some change as to measures for revivals. With the best Christian nurture the child must be born again; there must be the beginning of right affections. Much as many ministers may desire a steady growth of Chris- tianity among their people, a growth so true and steady that revivals shall not be needed, history gives no encouragement that they will ever see that blessing. Even if there were no falling away, and no declension, revivals would be needed for the most rapid ingathering of souls, and even for the higher attainments in holiness. I know of no growth in nature that is always steady and uniform; it goes by stages rather. Even in the same summer, there are times for expansion, and there are times for hardening and toughening. And in religion, it is according to true philosophy that souls come into the kingdom in groups and companies, and according to philosophy there are times for edification, instruction, and times for decision, change, reformation. If there were time we might go back into actual history and find these things verified. We could appeal to the days of Asa, and Jehoshaphat, and Hezekiah, and Josiah. We could take up the times of the early Church at Pentecost and the years and ages succeeding. We could go and see the operation of affairs in the days and countries of Wickliffe, and Huss, of Luther, and Knox. We could trace Gods way among men in the era of Baxter and Bunyan, of Flavel, Leighton, and Owen. We could come nearer our own time, and find proofs increasing in the age preceding, during, and 96 The TForld8 Conve~8wm. [Jan., following the labors of Whitefield, Wesley, Edwards, Brainerd, and the Tennents. But we are in danger of stultifying ourselves by our reason- ing on this subject; in danger of saying in substance, that the method of the worlds conversion is that by which the world is converted. For, a rapid enlargement of the Church we call a revival, and tben say that a sufficient number of re- vivals, or revivals of sufficient power, would convert the world; which in one aspect is saying, that the ~nethod of the worlds conversion is that by which the world is most rapidly converted. But this view is that of looking upon revivals as stagesin the advancement of Christianity. Another view is that of considering the inner working, the producing causes and active operation, of revivals. We look at revivals as a fruit, a phenomenon; then, again, we look at them as a combi- nation of means to secure many conversions in a comparatively brief time. This latter aspect is what we need most to study. And that carries us rather into, 3. Measures for revivals, or for the worlds conversion. This is a wide field; I note only a few things. Prominent is this: Does Church history show that evangelists should be encour- aged and employed as laborers for and in revivals? My own answer is, it does to a limited degree, but not as a sole or chief dependence. The apostles labored in a sense as evangelists, and for revivals. The seventy sent out by Christ were a kind of evangelists. Some of the deacons of the primitive Church labored as evangelists. Often in the history of revivals in dif. ferent eras of the world, men who were pastors have, in the progress of affairs become loosened from their churches be- cause of their peculiar fitness for service as evangelists; and in some cases perhaps because of their peculiar unfitness for the. pastoral work. While Whitfield and Wesley were really evangelists, Edwards and the Tennents were pastors. Baxter kept to the office of pastor, while Bunyan laboi-ed more as an evangelist, even during the twelve years he was in prison. While permanence in the pastorate is an excellence, variety is another. Occasional assistance from an evangelist helps to variety. Some preachers are peculiarly skillful in bringing men to a decision on the knowledge that they have, and that 1881.1 The Thoi9d8 Converswn. 97- is an important office of an evangelist. Some pastors are ex- cellent at seed-sowing, but not at harvest-reaping. They would sometimes be helped by one whose ability was directly the opposite. Pastors might help each other more in this way, could they leave their own fields long enough continuously for it. History shows that pastors have heretofore aided each other more for the purposes of revivals than they do now, and perhaps they ought to do it more again. History shows that some evangelists have greatly aided many pastors in both securing and conducting revivals. The philosophy of revivals indicates what measures may be wise. It shows that the laws of sympathy, of anticipation, of hope, may be utilized for securing revivals. When one sin- ner is born again, it becomes very important to use that fact if possible with the impenitent friends of the convert for their conversion. Through sympathy they may be awakened, through sympathy the requisite truths may be conveyed to their minds and hearts. By awakened desire and hope they may then be the more readily persuaded themselves to set out for the heavenly kingdom. One conversion may greatly help to another; two conversions will assist to secure four more within certain limits; and so on. A few conversions will strongly indicate that it is best to hold some special meetings to multiply and intensify good impressions in other minds. Various wise measures may depend upon the law of expecta- tion. Professor Goodrich of Yale Seminary, used to say that the simple announcement that Dr. Nettleton would soon come to a given community to hold a series of meetings, would throw half of the impenitent people there into a state of con- viction, and greatly prepare the way for the efficacy of the special means when actually used. A revival in one town often aids much to secure a revival in the. next town. Our annual week of prayer may be approached with such expecta- tion and preparation as often to lead to more sanctification among Christians, and to more conversions from the ranks of the impenitent. History shows, not only that these mental laws may be wisely employed in revivals, but also that revivals never occur without them. Among measures it is of absolute importance to remove VOL. IV. 7 98 The Worlds Conversion. [Jan., obstacles, such as difficulties among church-members, com- plaints against professing Christians, church-debts, and so on. And for these measures other peculiar measures may be spe- cially adapted ; so that we may have measures upon measures. Under the head of measures comes the question, What spe- cific evangelical doctrines should be pi-eached in our time especially, or at special times? Some of the doctrines are assented to by nearly all, and do not need special emphasis now. Others are not well-fixed in the minds of many, and how and when to undertake to get a favorable hearing for them, involves measures. James Freeman Clarke, in his criti- cisms on revivals, admits that a revivalist must not be a Universalist, and that Universalism makes the revivals of the orthodox religion impossible.* The orthodox preachers should, then, understand that they must by doctrine cut off all hope of saving repentance after death. And the future-state probation preachers among us had better understand that they do not belong to the orthodox, that they cannot harmoniously work with ministers who seek and long for revivals of relig- ion, and that their sort of preaching would cut off revivals. Foi- it is with them as Mr. Clarke says it is with Universalists, they cannot urge immediate conversion as a necessity. Let it once be understood that there is a possibility of repentance and salvation in the future state, and there will be a general adjournment of conversions, and an end of revivals. Men will not repent unless they first think of their ways; and they are so wicked they will not think unless first impressed with a sense of danger. And the doctrine of probation and conver- sion in the future state, would result in a low estimate of the love of God. Men would say, sin is not so very much, and the danger of it is not so very great after all. So they would not seek or accept that radical change of character which is implied in true conversion. Therefore, the preachers who teach or hold to a future-state probation, had better go by themselves. lit is unfair to ask evangelical ministers and churches to forego revivals for the sake of carrying them in the arms of their fellowship. Fel- lowship of them will tolerate their doctrines, and that will uca- tralize all practical power in the opposite, evangelical doctrines. * Revivals, Natural and Artfficial. p. 4. 1881.] The IForlds Conver8iom. 99 Separation from such men is one of the means of revivals that ought to be used at this hour. Too long delay of it has already prevented revivals. Longer toleration of their un- scriptural views would be unfaithfulness to Christ, and to the souls of men. Some of them already very boldly assume that Congregationalists do tolerate them, will not exclude them, and do relegate their peculiar views to the list of non- essentials. They are not going to leave on a hint, or by invi- tation. The sooner, without great violence, the division is made between the future-state probationists and the evangeli- cals, the less the latter will lose. The error of the former has gone too far, to die of itself. It will grow by being let alone. The way to make it die is to put it outside of evangelical churches. It has not vitality enough to live upon its own sub. stance. It too much ignores or perverts Scripture to com- mand long respect on its own merits. And the strength of all evangelical churches is in holding firmly to all means and measures requisite to produce or promote revivals. Inde~d, when they abandon those they are no longer evangelical. And allowed neglect of one means will lead to neglect of others. Yet, the preaching of hell-fire, as some critics represent, is not the essential thing on this point; but the preaching that there is no ray of hope for a sinner (lying in his sins. Establish that point, and human imagination will in these days go a great way beyond. James Freeman Clarke also says, that a revivalist must not be a Calvinist. But he uses that appellation in a dis- torted sense, as though a Calvinist can not urge upon all that salvation is for them a possibility. The preaching of free grace and human ability, is indeed a necessary measure for a revival; but true Calvinists have been wont to preach those doctrines. Mr. Clark admits that they have preached them, but claims that it has been only in their self-contradictions. This essay is closed with the clear conviction on the part of the writer, that did space allow it, many more historic facts than have been adduced, could be brought forward to sustain each view presented. In general, theories are of little conse- quence, unless there is something in history, positive or nega- tive, to sustain them. 100 Is the Pu~pit insincere? [Jan., ARTICLE VI.A HUMBLE APOLOGY; OR, 18 THE PULPIT INSINCERE? IN the North American Review for September (1880), an em- inent Unitarian minister reads a lecture to his brethren in the ministry. It is distributed according to the rule for correct penmanship, with light upward strokes administered to the liberal pulpit, and heavy downward strokes falling on their more orthodox brethren. These constitute a heavy body of charges against the honesty of ministers in the evan- gelical pulpit. The article is entitled Insincerity in the pub pit. Ministers are charged with insincerity, because, while it is taken for granted that they have adopted, more or less, the modern criticism with respect to the Bible, they are disingen- uously concealing their new views from their hearers. One or two quotations will show the spirit of the article. For a minister to have his own private way of explaining the inconsistencies of the Pentateuch, of getting over the story of Jonah, of~ accounting for the disagreements of the gospels, while he warns his hearers against tampering with Scripture by private interpretation, and does not relieve their pains and difficulties by the elixir which has soothed his own this is bad enough, mean enough. But, when his meanness disgraces his professionwhen he makes men think of preach. ing as the science of concealmentwhen the very oracle of the Eternal Truth becomes the mouth-piece of common-place, in. decision and insincerity, this is even worse. He damns not only himself, which is of little consequence in the comparison, but he does all that such a mean coward can do to degrade the system by which the gospel has been till now most widely pro- claimed. - - . - It seems, now, as if the country at large were beginning to doubt whether the pulpit does make such utterance [say what it believes]. In one quarter and another, and this in no dainty terms, it is called half-hearted. Preach- ers are called cowards and insincere The question is, Does the American people, on the whole, believe that preach-

100 Is the Pu~pit insincere? [Jan., ARTICLE VI.A HUMBLE APOLOGY; OR, 18 THE PULPIT INSINCERE? IN the North American Review for September (1880), an em- inent Unitarian minister reads a lecture to his brethren in the ministry. It is distributed according to the rule for correct penmanship, with light upward strokes administered to the liberal pulpit, and heavy downward strokes falling on their more orthodox brethren. These constitute a heavy body of charges against the honesty of ministers in the evan- gelical pulpit. The article is entitled Insincerity in the pub pit. Ministers are charged with insincerity, because, while it is taken for granted that they have adopted, more or less, the modern criticism with respect to the Bible, they are disingen- uously concealing their new views from their hearers. One or two quotations will show the spirit of the article. For a minister to have his own private way of explaining the inconsistencies of the Pentateuch, of getting over the story of Jonah, of~ accounting for the disagreements of the gospels, while he warns his hearers against tampering with Scripture by private interpretation, and does not relieve their pains and difficulties by the elixir which has soothed his own this is bad enough, mean enough. But, when his meanness disgraces his professionwhen he makes men think of preach. ing as the science of concealmentwhen the very oracle of the Eternal Truth becomes the mouth-piece of common-place, in. decision and insincerity, this is even worse. He damns not only himself, which is of little consequence in the comparison, but he does all that such a mean coward can do to degrade the system by which the gospel has been till now most widely pro- claimed. - - . - It seems, now, as if the country at large were beginning to doubt whether the pulpit does make such utterance [say what it believes]. In one quarter and another, and this in no dainty terms, it is called half-hearted. Preach- ers are called cowards and insincere The question is, Does the American people, on the whole, believe that preach- 1881.] 18 the Pulpit tnsincere? 101 ers say all they know? This is a very grave question. In proportion as orthodoxy shirks it, or as it fails to amend its ways, in that proportion will the American pulpit, so far as orthodoxy controls it, cease to be the power which it once was. We are reminded of the Unitarian minister, not a thousand miles from the Connecticut capital, who gravely told his hear- ers one evening, when discoursing about the humanity of our Lord, that if his orthodox brethren would only tell all they be- lieved, it would be seen that he and they were not so very far asunder. These utterances are a hopeful indication that our Unitarian brethren are coming round to Calvinism. For they certainly seem to believe in the total depravity of their ortho- dox brethren. And we may perhaps cherish th,e hope of see- ing them at length accept all the five points of Calvinistic theology. Orthodox ministers x~ould express their cordial concurrence in what is said about the pulpit being the place for the expres- sion of the preachers convictions, not of his doubts. If there is any standing place in the world where a man needs to have deep and fervent convictions, it is where he stands to deliver the message of God to sinful men. And there, more than in any other place is he damned if he doubts. Mr. Hale is no more a protestant than every true protestant preacher in the land, when he intimates that the minister takes the place of the prophet of the Old Testament, rather than the place of the priest. And never does the protestant minister so worthily fill his office, as when he is clothed with the conviction that animated those ancient prophets when they prefaced their mes- sages to the people with a Thus saith the Lord. But it is one thing for a minister to have this conviction, and quite another to have a conviction that he knows some- thing about this or that point of Biblical criticism or interpret- ation. Even as to this last kind of conviction, orthodox min- isters have the repute of possessing convictions, and of being ready to avow them. It would not be hard to show that pro- gress of thought has been, to a large extent, set in motion and helped on by this very characteristic of the ministerial profes- sion. Nothing short of moral delinquency could be more fatal 102 18 the Pulpit insin~ere? [Jan., to their influence than a suspicion that they were withholding some opinions out of a cowardly fear of losing their livings. And they know it. There is undoubtedly less said in the or- thodox pulpit than in the liberal on some subjects, as th ereis probably less said in the liberal pulpit than in the orthodox on other subjects. There are doubtless different theories in these pulpits about the relative importance of themes of preaching. But this difference is one of principle. It grows out of the different way in which these two pulpits look at truth. It fur- nishes no ground of comparison in the matter of moral cour- age. The particular subject mentioned as furnishing an illustra. tion of the timidity and insincerity of the pulpit is the Bible its authority, inspiration, and unity. We are quite safe in saying that the greater part of them [American preachers] no longer hold the notion which the Protestant church held two centuries ago concerning the au- thority and degree of inspiration of the Bible They do not holdas their fathers did hold two centuries agoto the consistency, the veracity, or the authority of every part of the Bible. Now the general community knows this, or suspects it. The orthodox pulpit is not without participation in the spirit of inquiry and investigation respecting the Bible, which has given so much life to Biblical studies during the last fifty years. The numerous books both of original investigation and of pop- ular presentation of these questions by orthodox ministers bear testimony to this. The quarterlies and other publications are even more satisfactory evidence of a general interest and share in all real progress in Biblical criticism. But orthodox minis- ters are not therefore open to the suspicion of adopting the new criticism bodily, nor chargeable with an unworthy concealment of new opinions under an assumed cover of orthodoxy. Least of all are they to be supposed incapable ol learniig, without at the same time letting go the essential truths of orthodoxy in some direction. And we utterly fail to recognize the vraisem- blarice, or correspondence to fact in the statement, that., notwith- standing the change of belief imputed to them, the great ma- jority of preachers go on, citing single texts as absolute au 1881.] Is the Pulpit insincere? 103 tho rity, speaking of any single text, as of course the Word of God, if found in the Bible. The only case that answers to such a description must be that colored brother in Richmond, who still goes on instri~cting his hearers that the sun revolves about the earth. And we should not think of accusing him of timidity or insincerity, but rather give him credit for that courage of his convictions, which seems to Mr. Hale to be a chief virtue in a minister. The statement that of the American ministers, who pre- tend to any theological training, the great majority now assent to the general principles of criticism which now govern the theological schools of all communions, will receive answer according to its meaning. If it mean the principles of criti- cism taught at Andover, Middletown, New Haven, Princeton, and Rochester, one answer will be given. But it is not sup- posable that a minister can be under any temptation to conceal opinions formed under the instruction in these leading schools of various communions in America. Whatever may be meant by the statement,it is what is implied that concerns us most. The implication that the great body of preachers have adopted such principles of Biblical criticism as involve a partial aban- donment of orthodox views, while at the same time they are disingenuously concealing this change, is a serious charge. Let us take the examples cited under this statement. No minister of an evangelical church would hesitate a moment to avow his opinion about the creation days, or about the sun standing still upon (libeon, or about the story of Jonah. Most of them would think such matters hardly important enough to make them the theme of a sermon, if indeed they could think them to have any place in the message of a preacher and prophet of God. They may not think about these things and some others as their fathers did two centuries ago. B utif they do think differently, they are sufficiently instructed to know that a modification of views on such points involves no diminution of the authority of the Bible, nor any depai-ture from orthodoxy. According to their view of the relative im- portance of truths, these questions belong to the minuscula of Biblical criticism. And if one of them think it necessary to inform his hearers that he does not believe that Jonah lived 104 us the Pulpit & n8inCe~re? [Jan., three days and three nights in the stomach of a fish, neither the authority nor the inspiration of the Bible is thereby shaken among those hearers. Neither he probably, nor they cer- tainly, think that a matter of the first importance has been made the subject of a ministers message to his people, and occupied the golden hour devoted to the quickening of con- science and of Christian grace. We repeat and protest that, as between minister and people, there is no slightest suspicion of cowardly concealment on such points, nor therefore any disposition to charge the pulpit with cowardice,~~ or insin- cerity, or infidelity. Orthodox communions do not live in such an atmosphere. The ministers office as a prophet of the Truth does not call on him to make such topics the bur- den of his message. And orthodox communities have not been so instructed as to expect it Whatever may have been the faults of orthodox preaching in the two and a half centu- ries of New England history, it is the glory of it that it has, in the main, held the function of preaching so high above these rudiments of Biblical instruction that the people expect something more and different. A nd if the authority of the pulpit has declined in some places in these latter days, it is not because the people suspect the pulpit to be concealing its belief as to such matters, but because the pulpit has degene- rated in its selection of themes for sermons; because it has substituted to such an extent literature and philosophy in the stead of Gods message of salvation to a lost world. No, orthodox ministers do not suppose that they and they only have access to speculations and criticisms which are scattered everywhere. They do probably know more about this kind of reading than their several congregations. They may be said to have an avidity for it. And as intelligent men they undoubtedly have their opinions. But they understand that these criticisms, at the start, are the result of original investigation. And but a very small proportion of them are in a position, or have the requisite training, to make original investigation. They know that the correct answer must come from those who can. And they must take the result of such investigation. This fact, of itselg would teach them that the Word of the Lord is not in this great and strong wind. 188L1 18 the Pulpit in8incere? 105 And if perchance some minister take the wind and the earth- quake and the fire of these controversies for the veritable Word of the Lord, he is likely to find that he is beating the small chaff of the threshing floor. Little wheat comes from such preaching. We think it is the preachers business to tell the truth, absolute and simple. Bat what is this truth? The training and the traditions of the orthodox pulpit make it assent readily to the proposition that there is no such thing as Pres- byterian truth as distinguished from Universalist truth. But there may be a distinction between the truth and some points of the Presbyterian creed, and there may be one between the truth and some points of the Universalist creed. And the same may be said respecting the creeds of the orthodox and the Unitarian Congregationalists, one or both of them. The alternative is between truth and error. And the preachers quest should be for the truth. But in the orthodox ministers quest of truth, is he necessarily traveling towards liberal opinions? One minister may have an assured conviction that he has reached the truth when he has accepted the Unitarian creed. Another when he has endorsed the Presbyterian stan- dards. They both may be in error. It may be that neither would come into the truth by exchanging places with the other. Will either be more likely to come into the truth or lead his hearers into the truth, by giving prominence in his own study or in his preaching to the disagreements, the inconsistencies, or other such points of Biblical criticism? And here we come upon a question as to the correct theory of preaching. Are such matters as these any proper part of the truth which it is the preachers business to make the bur- den of his message to his hearers? That they be allowed a certain place in the ministers utterances may possibly be granted. But do they belong to the message which is given to a prophet of the Truth to proclaim? We cannot help feeling that a remark of Dr. Bushnell to a Unitarian friend is appropriate here. Dr. Bushnell says: I do fervently hope and pray that what I should call a deeper evangelic spirit may get hold of my Unitarian friends. The late meeting at Port- land was a good sign; but the fact is that the language held 106 18 the Pulpit tn8incere? [Jan., there, even the best of it, seems to want a certain depth; the thoughts do not touch bottom; they seemed to me as if they were not in the vernacular of evangelism. There are truths of philosophy, and truths of science, and truths of Biblical criticism. But none of all these, nor all of them together, constitute the Truth which it belongs to the minister to preach. These truths address themselves to the understanding. The Truth is the testimony of the Holy Spirit respecting Christ. It is the testimony of the Spirit of Truth in the soul of man. And the preacher becomes a prophet of the Truth, not by proclaiming what he knows in the sphere of the understanding, but by an experience of the grace of Christ in his own heart, which has taught him what Christ is to tbe sinner who repents, and how the vision of Him fills the penitent heart with desires after holiness. When the preacher has felt the burden of this experience, the best that he has and knows and believes is this Truth, which has passed like a fire through his own soul, and which burns within him till he gives it utterance. Now this experience is not in the sphere of the understanding. The Truth cannot be apprehended by the understanding. The understanding may be filled with truths, and no single faculty of the soul be stirred to a longing for the Truth. The preacher may inform the understanding of his hearers to repletion, and if he rise not above this level, be utterly faithless to his mission as a preacher of the Truth. For to preach the Truth is to preach Christ. And the fuller, and richer, and deeper the preachers experience of Christ in his own soul, the more nearly does he become the ideal preacher. The Holy Spirit testifies of Christ. And the preacher is never so truly telling the truth absolute and simple as when he becomes the organ of the Spirit in giving utterance to this testimony. It was by manifestation of this Truth that St. Paul com- mended himself to every mans conscience. Christ crucified was the theme of his preaching. It is because this Truth ceases to be the main theme of the pulpit, that truths assume such an important place in it. Preaching is brought down under terms and laws of the understanding. And conscience is not quickened. Faith is not excited. The pulpit ceases to 188L1 18 the Pulpit in8incere t 107 be unique, peculiar, separate from all other platforms, ros- trums, and organs of utterance to men. Jt descends to the level of these other spheres of speech, and enters into competi- tion with them. And in such a competition for the ear of men, the pulpit must go to the wall. As to the truths of Biblical criticism we hold that a more satisfying solution and a more abiding conviction are reached in another way than that of informing the understanding, tell- ing what the preacher knows. If the pulpit attempts to sat- isfy doubt and settle conviction by resolving these matters of criticism on the level of the understanding merely, the preach- ing may or may not be satisfactory so far as these matters are concerned. But the attention is drawn away from the right ground of trust in the Scriptures. Their claim to be received as the Word of God is in danger of seeming to be made to rest on their being understood. The understanding is inter- ested. But the reason, the conscience, the will are not reached or stirred. There is no movement towards faith set on foot. No substantial ground or footing is gained by this method of preaching. A congregation trained to this way of resolving the difficulties of the Scriptures would, to say the least, have confidence only so long as nothing more convinc- ing and plausible was advanced from the other side. While the probability is that it would acquire a rationalistic habit of mind, with a tendency to skepticism. The Bible is a revelation from God to sinful men, telling them how they may be redeemed. When therefore we ap- proach the Bible either for our own edification or for the satis- faction of other minds some things must needs already have been made clear, admitted, and received into the mind as un- questionable verities. God must be acknowledged as our moral governor; the fact also of personal sinfulness; and the need of pardon and reconciliation with God. All these the Bible assumes to be undeniable facts. The way therefore to approach the Bible is not to come demanding, in the interest of the understanding, that its difficulties be resolved and its secrets delivered up before we will proceed farther in our in- vestigation of divine truth, and in the way to reconciliation with God~ If the inquirer comes suitably impressed with 108 Is the Pulpit in8ince~e? [Jan., Gods requirements and his own obligations as a sinner, he is prepared to receive from the Bible what the Bible was given to reveal first of all, the gift of life eternal through the cruci- fied Saviour. This is the attitude to take before the divine revelation in the Scriptures. And the pulpit has first to bring the heart into this attitude. It is futile to attempt to smooth the way to this by offering incense to the understanding, ex- plaining difficulties under the laws of the understanding in the hope of thus conciliating the heart and making it ready to hear the claims of God. The history of preaching furnishes sufficient proof that an appeal to the heart with regard to these facts finds a support in the heart itself. The Bible has a supernatural element. It is a book that has come from God in a way not wholly explainable by natural law. Right views of it therefore will depend on correct views of God, and of his revelation of himself in Jesus Christ. There is an obvious analogy between the Word of God which we call the Bible, and that Word who was in~ the beginning with God, and who was made flesh. And a correct view of the Bible follows naturally U~OI) a correct view of Him who was God manifest in the flesh. A deep conviction of sin as a dislocation of Gods order, branding the soul with guilt, pre- pares the soul to see in the Jesus of the gospels the needed re- storer of peace and moral integrity, and the m-econciler to God. Nothing less than such a Redeemer, the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us, seems equal to the wants of the soul that is groping to find its way to a forgiving God. With the soul adjusted to such a view of Christ, the way is prepared for such a look at the Bible as its supernatural character demands, and for a consideration of its claims on the supernatural side. Grasping a revelation at this central point, the reason holds it with an unshaken faith, not staggered by difficulties but rather expecting them, and willing to keep them for solution in some clearer light, not yet vouchsafed. Whil.e at the same time it is seen that many matters of detail, puzzling to the under- standing, find their sufficient a~d satisfactory solution in this comprehensive view of the Scriptures. They have fallen into their true relation to the whole, have received their clarifying 1881.1 Is the Pulpit insincere? 109 light, have had found for them a place in a system, which they fit into and where they perform an appointed work. But suppose the other method to be adopted. Suppose that a preacher meets questions and doubts in detail, one after an- other. Now if the best the preacher has to deliver in such cases is some explanation elaborated in the understanding and addressed to the understanding, he can lead his hearers no far- ther than he has gone himself, into a dreary, arid waste where is no living water for the thirst of the soul. Such knowledge furnishes no foothold, gives no spring for a higher flight into those realities for which the soul hungers. The understand- ing may be convinced by the preacher that this or that diffi- culty is explainable under terms of the understanding, or that it is not explainable, as the case may be. But in either case the hearer is left stranded, with no movement of his higher fac- ulties to float him into a regulative faith or conviction. Abid- ing conviction respecting the difficulties that attach to the di- vine revelation is not produced by the same methods as in a matter of science. Matters in the domain of science come un- der the laws of nature. Conviction in matters of revelation is operated under the law of faith. Shall the pulpit bring the doubting and skeptical mind to see by the eye of the natural understanding or by the eye of faith? Which is it the more rational to suppose capable of resolving difficulties in a super- natural revelation? Under the supernatural movement of God upon a sinful human race, operated by a Saviour who came into the race in a supernatural manner, and by the Holy Spirit working supernaturally upon the hearts of men, it is certainly not working in the divine method to use the methods of sci- ence and labor chiefly upon the understanding to bring men into the right attitude towards a divine revelation. It is like trying to reform a trump by feeding him. The more the pul- pit honors and exalts the natural understanding by bringing all the ways of God under the laws of the understanding, trying them, as it were, before the court of the under- standing, the more the hearer is encouraged to disesteem his higher faculties, and to neglect to use them in seeking for the truth. We cannot, for instance, make the unity of the Bible to ap. 110 18 the Pulpit in8incere ~ [Jan., pear by any patchwork upon its disagreements and inconsist- encies. Stumbling blocks will always lie in the way of the understanding under this method. They will even increase. The secrets of the Scriptures will refuse to deliver themselves up to this demand. With the froward they will show them. selves froward. The understanding does not po~sess the open sesame to the Bible. The unity of the Bible is some- thing that attaches to its central theme. It is the unity of an organism. It is the unity of a living growth. The under- standing cannot grasp this fact. This truth is above its reach. It is a supernatural unity, consisting in the orderly develop- ment of the idea of a redemption of man from the power of sin. Commencing in that wonderful seed-bed of truth, the book of Genesis, the Bible is an advent-song from the beginning t~ the end; telling in the Old Testament of a Redeemer to come, and in the New of One who has come, and who is to come yet once again. It is this central life-current of Messianic promise and fulfillment, running all through, that constitutes the unity of the Bible. The danger of degradation in the orthodox pulpit does not lie in the direction of failing to address the understanding, and to give this faculty the best it knows on a point of criticism or of doctrine. The danger has lain in a preponderating address of the sermon to this faculty, and the failure to address, or the disproportionately small attention given to the conscience, the will, and the faculty of faith. The people have been treated to a fine intellectual entertainn~ent, instead of being seized by the nape of the conscience and shaken, as if by the voice of the Almighty. We have sometimes thought that the success of Mr. Moody has been owing in large measure to the differ- ence between his method and the method of much of the pul- pit in this particular. God has used him, notwithstanding his one-sided presentation of truth, to rebuke the pulpit. It has seemed to us that if St. Paul were now to reissue his epistle to the Corinthians he would add to his other expedients to catch the ear and heart of man, that to the ignorant he became igno~ rant, that he might gain the ignorant. It would be well if the pulpit would more often forget its knowledge, the knowledge that c6mes by the understanding. One powerful t~emptation 1881.1 k the Pulpit in8ince~e? 111 of the sermon-writer is to address himself to the most culti- vated understanding in his audience. But this is not common ground where his people can meet him. What is thus said shoots over the heads of the major part of the hearers. No more is an ignorant address to the understanding common ground. For here the preacher puts all the cultivated and most intelligent out of the sense of being addressed at all. The common ground is in the sphere of the higher, spiritual faculties of the soul. It is only an individual here and there who is not uncultivated in this sphere, who is not in fact a child. This is the ground where the preacher can find all his hearers coming into responsive sympathy with his utterances. And this is the ground on which the preacher shows himself to be the true prophet of God. In an address to the under. standing he speaks as a mere man, and is judged as a mere man, according to the grade of his knowledge and culture. Nobody recognizes the voice of God in his utterances. The religious faculty is not touched. And the sore and aching heart turns away from such preaching still more sad, because it has heard no single word sounding the depths of its sorrow and communicating the message of healing grace. The preached word has played about the region of the under- standing; it has pleased and tickled the fancy. But when a soul is hungering for the bread of life, this is giving it a stone. The earnest questions which men are asking the pulpit are not whether the story of Jonah is a true story, or whether the sun stood still upon Gibeon, or any one of all such matters of criticism, but whether this life of ours is worth living; whether a good and wise God reigns over this tangle of sin and evil in which every soul of man is involved, in other words, whether the existence of sin implies a limit either to the power or to the goodness of God; whether grace is able to change the law of heredity and the law of character; whether in all the ages of the future there will come a time when the soul can feel that it has found a Lethe for sin, or anything to overbalance and outweigh the dreary experience of sin, even in the best of souls. These and others like them are the ques. tions which burden the hearts of men and make them go weary 112 18 the Pulpit insincere? [Jan., to their daily tasks. And these are the questions which fur- nish the gravest ground of accusation against the pulpit. To the heart that is oppressed with these thoughts, some of the preaching it hears seems to be solemn trifling and mockery. There is no degradation of the pulpit like that which offers to such aching hearts an address to the understanding. The pul- pit can bear almost any strain but this. 1881.1 The SpeLtin~,i Peform. 113 ARTICLE VIEA WORD WITH THE SPELLING REFORMERS. WE are all spelling reformers, to a certain extent, but we are not all the spelling reformers. We all believe that the spelling of English has been improved, and can be, and will be. There was a time when the noun well was spelled in nine different ways, though not with one pronunciation. It was a great re- form to have the same word spelled in only one way, a reform by no means yet completed. Other improvements, amounting in their sum to a considerable reform, are familiar to all stu- dents of the subject. And there is still great room for improve- ment. Hence there are reformers, and there are the reformers. These latter insist, in the name both of philology and humanity, that we should press at once for thorough phonetic spelling, according to which each elementary sound shall have its own sign, and each sign its own sound. .They claim that it is only the inertia of slow-minded people that prevents us from coming to this result very soon. Now all will agree that if the field were clear the way to start the writing of any language would be by a strictly phonetic alphabet. But it so happens that in the case of our own language the field is not clear. Theory must give way to fact. And there are two or three facts which we wish to press upon the attention of the spelling reformers; facts which, as it seems to us, ought to guide in all efforts for a change of spelling, and which if admitted, are fatal to the prospects of pure phonetic spelling. In the first placea fact almost too obvious to require state- mentin attempting to reinstate pronunciation as the sole guide in writing we follow a standard that is both doubtful and vari- able. Uncertainty of pronunciation is not very serious so long as we are all agreed on the written word, but we must not flat- ter ourselves that it will go equally well under a system of phonetic spelling. For example, in which of five ways should we spell conno~seur? or, shall we take them all, in order to do justice to the authorities given in Webster? Deaf either, shone, VOL. IV. 8

1881.1 The SpeLtin~,i Peform. 113 ARTICLE VIEA WORD WITH THE SPELLING REFORMERS. WE are all spelling reformers, to a certain extent, but we are not all the spelling reformers. We all believe that the spelling of English has been improved, and can be, and will be. There was a time when the noun well was spelled in nine different ways, though not with one pronunciation. It was a great re- form to have the same word spelled in only one way, a reform by no means yet completed. Other improvements, amounting in their sum to a considerable reform, are familiar to all stu- dents of the subject. And there is still great room for improve- ment. Hence there are reformers, and there are the reformers. These latter insist, in the name both of philology and humanity, that we should press at once for thorough phonetic spelling, according to which each elementary sound shall have its own sign, and each sign its own sound. .They claim that it is only the inertia of slow-minded people that prevents us from coming to this result very soon. Now all will agree that if the field were clear the way to start the writing of any language would be by a strictly phonetic alphabet. But it so happens that in the case of our own language the field is not clear. Theory must give way to fact. And there are two or three facts which we wish to press upon the attention of the spelling reformers; facts which, as it seems to us, ought to guide in all efforts for a change of spelling, and which if admitted, are fatal to the prospects of pure phonetic spelling. In the first placea fact almost too obvious to require state- mentin attempting to reinstate pronunciation as the sole guide in writing we follow a standard that is both doubtful and vari- able. Uncertainty of pronunciation is not very serious so long as we are all agreed on the written word, but we must not flat- ter ourselves that it will go equally well under a system of phonetic spelling. For example, in which of five ways should we spell conno~seur? or, shall we take them all, in order to do justice to the authorities given in Webster? Deaf either, shone, VOL. IV. 8 114 The Spelli~j Reform. [Jan. literature, quinine, wound are common and suggestive exam- ples, and many more might be added. It is easy to dodge this difficulty, and to say, as Prof. March does in the Princeton Re- view (Jan. 1880), that the spelling reformers have to do with writing, not pronunciation. But what does their writing have to do with? And if ortho~pists cannot agree a bout pronuncia- tion, is it likely that orthographers will agree in a writing based wholly on pronunciation? Then, what of the constant changes in pronunciation from one generation to another? If the spelling should follow these changes immediately, as the weather-vane follows the wind, then we should indeed have ideal phonetic spelling but a dis- tressing complexity in the aspect of the language. Changes, also, which, since the inventing of printing, have been i-etarded by a protesting orthography, would probably be greatly accel- erated by the new system. Neither friend nor foe, however, should take account of these evils, for they are imaginary, since the producing cause is imaginary. The history of our own and other languages shows that phonetic spelling will not stay phonetic. No one likes this, but no one can help it. Pronun- ciation changes faster than the written words. This settles the question of the permanence of any ideal spelling. If no other important interests were involved, possibly it would pay to wipe out the old score and begin anew, but the result would be only a question of time. If all opposition should cease, and the spelling reformers were to-day to have theii- own way, to every jot and tittle, still the hour of success would be the be- ginning of a long defeat. It may be thought that phonetic spelling by accurately defining the present pronunciation will check future changes. But those pronunciations which will be the first to become changed, or are already in process, are confessedly beyond the power of spelling to define, because they are already doubtful. And so it will always be. Phon- etic spelling, by the law of its existence, must always follow, never lead; must always waver when pronunciation wavers, and can be settled only when that is settled, i. e., never. How can such an instrument as this steady, as it is claimed, our spoken forms ~ Our second fact touches more closely the merits of the re 1881.] The Spellin~j ]ieform. 115 form itself. The spoken language, which, strictly speaking, is the only real language, has, in the course of modern civiliza- tion, become indissolubly associated with written symbols. These symbols are often called, not inappropriately, the written language, because they have gained a position codrdinate in important respects with the uttered sounds. The eye has thus acquired some rights which the tongue and ear are bound to respect. Civilized man wears clothes. So civilized language wears written and printed symbols. It was not so always but it is so to.day. A naked savage and an unwritten language go together. The more cultivated we become, the farther is it from being true that sound is the sum total of language. The child in first counting one, two, three, knows nothing, and cares nothing. for spelling or alphabets. But after he learns to asso- ciate the numbering not only with sounds but with pi-inted words, his spoken language can never be what it was before. It is henceforth sound plus certain visible forms. No matter whether the forms are before his eye or not; they are in his minds eye. They go with the sounds. Now carry that child through the whole course of his education, and at every step you will see that his spoken language and its signs are insepa- rable. He thinks in visible words as much as in audible words. He may be a good speller or bad, but he is always a speller of some sort. Every person of ordinary education, in this reading age, has but a small stock of words acquired inde- pendently of ieading, and those which were so acquired have all been re-stamped with the written sign. The idea that civ- ilized man uses his written symbols as mere machinery for ex- pressing his audible words is, we submit, quite contrary to fact. If philology refuses to take account of the fact that a real part. nership has grown up between spoken and written language, then it ignores one of the most striking facts in the history of language. An unwritten language among a whole people is a mark of barbarism. The same in an individual, among civil- ized nations, is a mark of low intelligence. Spelling reform, then, must not be built on barbarism. If sound is allvox et prcelerea nihilthen literary cultivation, as it has been actually developed in modern times, is a delusion. This brings us to what may be considered a (langerous point 116 The SpelUng Reform. [Jan., in our discussion. We can hardly avoid speaking of etymo- logical spelling; and what will happen to us if we do, may be inferred from some utterances of the spelling reformers. One of them is credited with saying that it is mainly among the class of half-taught dabblers in philology that etymological spellers has found its supporters. Prof. March says: The scholars proper [among the reformers?] have lost all patience with the etymological objection. It is a great pity if they have lost their patience so soon, for the discussion will proba- bly last a good while yet. The words which now have un- phonetic etymological spelling are largely, but not wholly, foreign. Let us take an example quite germane to the present subjectthe word sign. This is a fair specimen of bad spell- ing from a phonetic point of view. In the name of humanity, why should a poor innocent child be compelled to toil for at least five minutes of its precious time in learning that there is in English a silent g. But before we strike it out let us look around a little. It might not be worth while to retain it merely to represent better the Latin signum; but it so happens that there are several words in English, containing the same form, in which the g is not silent, viz: signify, significant, sig- nzflcatzon, signal, signalize. signatare, signet, and a few others. The word sign represents the foundation of all the3e; and this fact is easily and usefully apparent to one even who knows nothing of Latin. To spell the word sine or sam breaks the connection to the eye as it has already been broken to the ear. The root is wholly severed from the branches. The plain unlettered man, in whose behalf we must all spell phonetically, the child in process of education, and the great majority of well educated people have alike suffered a loss, which, however, the scholar escapes because he knows the secret of the origin of this disguised sine. We might illustrate further by the compounds of siqn, but it is not necessary. Take another example, this time from the native element of the language. The numeral one is curiously mispronounced, as if it were spelled wun. The mispronunciation, dejure, has, however, become the correct pronunciation, de facto. How such a perversion came about we cannot tell; perhaps from the u-vanish of the o, the steps being 3ne, o-un, wun; perhaps 1881.1 The Spelling Reform. 117 by first changing the sound of o as in none, some, the steps, then, being Yne, un ( young uns) wun. Whatever may have been the mode, the mischief is done, and cannot easily be un- done. Therefore we are told to conform the spelling and save the labor of spellers. But here we come upon the fact that several common derivatives from one have not changed the pronunciation, but stand true in sound and form, viz: only, al-one, at-one. Shall we cut these off from their visible root, and becloud their meaning in order to save a little trouble in the spelling of one? These two are examples of words that do not necessarily carry the etymology beyond our own tongue. But those who have acquired some knowledge of Latin, or are learning it, are numerous enough and respectable enough to have some consideration in the matter of orthogra- phy. The connection of our vocabulary with the Latin is very close, and it is greatly for the interest of our language, and hence of all who use it, that this connection should be known and studied. Sound can well afford to make some concession to sight. A boy who has just learned the meaning of certus does not need to be told that certap derives its force therefrom; but what would he say to surt~fy? And here it should be noted that a great part of the influence of language on thought, and on the power of apprehension, is subtle. Its points of connection within itself are delicate. A sing] e letter, whether pronounced or not, may be a family mark. The eye uncon- sciously gathers in meanings and suggestions which the ear cannot catch. Some of these silent marks stimulate the curi- osity of learners and lead on to valuable disclosures. There are two classes of persons, we admit, who are not benefited by such hints and suggestions. One is made up of the trained philologists and linguists; the other of the very illiterate. But between these two extremes is found the great mass of intelligent peoplereading business men and reading women, most professional men, most graduates of colleges and all graduates of the public schools. These are not insensible to the advantages of an orthography which in many cases reveals more to the eye than to the ear. Our language has already, largely through old French, a host of disguised words, words which conceal their original meanings and present 118 The A~[pelZinQ Reform. [Jan., affinities. Phonetic spelling proposes to disguise a good share of the rest. Is it wise? Should scholars proper feel badly and lose all patience because a great many sensible people in- sist that it is not? Let us now say that we do not favor all spelling that is called etymological, or that registers some particular form in the history of a word. Some such spellings are useless, others worse. Ismus or ithmus would be better than both combined, which we now have. Vu is preferable to view on etymological as well as phonetic grounds. Some words are so badly dam- aged already that they can hardly be inj ured further. Let us save the good and cast the badto another trial in phonetics. Our third fact, closely allied to the preceding, is that very many words in our language are saved from ambiguity solely by their distinctive, though unphonetic, spelling. Ambiguity, we need hardly say, is the greatest evil that can afflict a vocab- ulary. To appreciate the effect of this, let one imagine that a large majority of our words had each his double to undo him. It is a part of the system of evolution, as some understand it, that human language has been gradually developed from the monotonous cries of the lower animals. But whether language arises from the bark of a dog, or the bark of a dog, as we sup. pose, from human language, it is plain that a vocabulary goes towards perfection as it departs from equivocalness. Now there are .a few words which would be relieved of ocular am- biguity by phonetic spellingas read and read (past tense), and some in -ow as bowbut most of these would thereby be thrown into other ambiguities, which is probably the reason why the spelling remains as it is. On the other hand the num- ber of words which would be rendered by this thorough spelling ambiguous to the eye is very large. We have never seen a complete list of them from the pens of the spelling re- formers although this would be exactly in their line. Our own estimate, based on a partial count, puts the number of primary words at five hundred. By primary we mean those which are not compound, and not derived from other English words by means of formatives now in use. This would exclude all derivatives in -ness, -ing, -ful, -able, un-, etc., but include the few in -th. When we add the secondary words the number will be 1881.1 The Spelling Reform. 119 greatly increased. For example, to piece and peace we must add apiece, piecemeal, piecing, peaceful, peaceable, peace-maker, peace-offering, and others. After striking ~ff all words little used there must remain considerably more than a thousand common and necessary words that would suffer by this change. Most of the primary words are in pairs; not a few in triplets, as I eye ay, mete meet meat, pare pair pear. rain rein reign, site sight cite, so sow sew, to too two vane vain vein; while there is one set of four common words rite, right, write, wright, tl~e last being confined to compounds. Is all this a small matter or a great one? Tt seems small in the eyes of the reformers. They say that the connection almost always makes the meaning plain. Such a statement seems to us to imply a poor appreciation of the nature of the difficulty, and a coarse conception of language as an instrument of thought. A good language will tolerate as little as possible even a momentary confusion. Recalling what has been said above on the connection in our minds between the written and spoken words one can see that to multiply the ambiguities of the written forms is to increase the ambiguity of the language as a medium and helper of thought. It strikes a blow at clearness and rapidity of thinking. You may say that a child can soon learn the fourfold meaning of the one sound (hardly word) rite, or rait. He can learn it (how soon is another ques- tion,) but he will have to contend with an ambiguity which is, on the present system, however shocking this may seem to phonologists, well-nigh destroyed. The equivocalness of sound is offset by the dreadful spelling, so that he has substantially four words for the four ideas. It would be far better if they were four distinct words, in both sound and shape, but it is better to keep the visible distinction than to have none at all. To increase the number of ambiguous words is to push a lan- guage towards barbarism. The apparent harmony is real dis- order, and is introduced into the very sanctuary of thought. Prof. F. W. Newman says well, It is surprising to hear a learned man gravely reason that we seldom make any serious mistake in listening to a speech, as to whether a soul or sole is intended, or in what sense sole is used; therefore, there will be no harm in adopting a single mode of writing for the four 120 like Spelling Reform. [Jan., words right, rite, write, wright. Undeniably it is a defect that any such ambiguity exists as the pronouncing sole and soul alike; but because we have this defect in one instance, are we therefore to introduce it, knowingly and voluntarily, in other instances, and to confound four more words because we have already confounded two ?7~* We know something of the evils of a total ambiguity, i. e. both written and spoken, by experience. The number of words in our language already wholly equivocal is probably as large as of those which we are now asked to make so, not counting, of course, those which are really the saThe words used as different parts of speech, as turn (noun), turn (verb). There is only one way in which phonetic spelling can acquit itself of the charge of making bad worse, and that is by killing off many of the words which it reduces to ambiguity. It has partly done this in the case of let, to hinder; which is as dis. tinct a word from let, to allow, as sine is from sign. When it shows some appreciable progress in dealing with the remaining thousand or so that now beset us we shall have more hopes of the future. lit is doubtless impossible to so reform the language that each mental word shall have its own formal word, both spoken and written, but it is possible to avoid making matters twice as bad as they now are. In some few cases a pronuncia- tion that has wandered will return to its spelling. If we remember our Websters Spelling Book rightly, buoy was to be pronounced precisely as boy. At any rate, this pronunciation has had, until recently the sanction of good ortho~ipists. Yet we do not hear it now from the best speakers. What is the reason, except that the long silent u has at last made itself heard? And what makes this the more striking is that the a has no business there. If it belongs etymologically to either it is to boy. Still we have no large expectations of a reformed pronunciation, although it may easily be shown, as Professor Newman has done, to be very desirable. We only insist that the number of present ambiguities must not be increased. A word, by the way, on the question of time employed in learning to spell. TPhe phonetic spellers are eloquent on this point. Max Mueller speaks of the misery endured by * Contemjporary Review, March, 1878, p. 690. 1881.] The Spelling Reform. 121 millions of children at schools, who might learn in one year, and with real advantage to themselves what they now require four or five years to learn, and seldom succeed in learning after all. We should like to ask how long it would take millions of children to learn the differences in the four-in-one word (phonetically spelled) r~~te, right, write, wright, so as to appre- ciate fully these differences; and whethei- it would help them or not, in so learning, to put a distinguishing mark on each, even though that mark should be called spelling. It might turn out that, after all, slow spelling is rapid defining. It seems to us that the time saved in learning to spell will, in very many cases, be lost again in vain efforts to get clear ideas. Spelling reform must not interfere with what may be called the law of differentiation, according to which language grows by multiplying distinctions. Our language for the last five hundred years has so grown mostly in the way of introducing foreign words; but there are examples of this law within its own native stock. Let us take one which will illustrate the law in this very matter of spelling. In early English the definite article the and the pronoun thee were both spelled the. How came the change of spelling? Undeniably to distinguish the pronoun from the article; and so doing has promoted clear- ness of thinking in millions of children and at least several hundred thousand grown people. In the same manner to, the preposition, and too, the adverb, have been distinguished. Such changes are simply the result of common sense applied to language. F ailing to (10 the best imaginable, it does the next best, the best possible. And if our language is to make further progress in vocabulary, it must be still in the line of differentiating, not in the backward progress of removing or concealing differences. We are not trying to exhaust this subject, but only to reach positions that are decisive. Have we not seen enough to justify the decision that pure phonetic spelling is, in the cn-cumstances, not to be striven for; and that there is no pros- pect of a time when it will be anything else than a calamity? The motto of the reform spelling is, A separate sign for each sound. The motto of rational spelling is, A separate word for each distinction of thought. Both these ideals are far enough 122 The Spelling Reform. [Jan., from being realized. What is worse, they clash with each other. But in such a case, surely thought, not sound, should rule. Is there, then, any room for genuine reform in spelling? Will not the irregularities preserved by the principles we have now advocated, so mar the uniformity and so introduce un- phonetic analogies as to spoil the whole project? It may be that any sweeping reform is impracticable. Yet we see no reason why there should not be a constant, and by suitable concerted action a rapid, improvement by casting out letters that are really uselessboth to the eye and the earand by introducing uniformity wherever it will not darken the mean- ing of words, or confound things that differ. Perhaps reform and differentiating can go on, measurably, together. Thus if it be best to drop the second 1 in shall, will, & c., it might be wel to drop it in the adjective and adverb, and in the case of the noun to let well (enough) alone. So there may be a urn- formity that shall help, and not hinder, etymological connec- tion. Is there any good reason why the following words should not be spelled thus, cede, accede, concede. excede, precede, procede, recede, secede, sitccede? This is not phonetic spelling, because the soft c is used, but it would be improved etymologi- cal spelling; for why should the freak that introduces ee into three of the above words be tolerated? Perhaps, also, we can dismiss the ei- and ie-puzzle and write receve, beleve, acheve, sege, nece, & c., and thus bring receive, and the other compounds end. ing in -ceive into slightly closer visible connection with their kin- dred receptiort, & c. A somewhat different example would be the following :plane (adjectives), plane (nouns), explane, explana- tion, explanatory. Here differentiation concedes something to ety- mology, but gains much more in the direction of complain and its kin, plaint, plaintive, plain tiff which might remain as they are. In general, those peculiarities of spelling which are de- rived from the old French, and merely mark the passage of the word through that language from the Latin, may be sacrificed without much loss, and sometimes with gain to etymology as well as to uniformity. In America this principle has been carried out fully in words ending in -or, as labor, honor, & c. The cases in which uniformity of spelling will, at the same 1881.] like Spelling Reform. 123 time, favor either differentiation or etymological suggestion are comparatively few, but those in which it will work no harm to either will be found numerous enough, one would think, to satisfy the zeal, and, probably, task the patience, of the most enterprising orthographers. In conclusion we would suggest to the spelling reformers that the prospects of improvement would be brighter if it could be understood, once for all, that the less sweeping changes are not a bait to allure the unwilling on to pure phonetic spelling. 124 Notiee8 of New Book8. [Jan., ARTICLE VILENOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE OPERATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.*~The first of these Con- ferences treats of the General work of the Spirit before Pente- cost among the Jews and the heathens; and outside of the church since Pentecost ; the second of the Special work of the Spirit in the church ; the third and fourth of the Special work of the Spirit in the soul of the baptized individual. The work pro- fesses to teach on these subjects the doctrines of the Catholic church as distinguished from Protestantism. The Catholic church, as here defined, consists of those bodies which, however they may differ on other points, unite as one body in bringing down to the present day the Apostolic ministry iii regular succes- sion, in not denying the Apostolic Sacraments, and in holding with consenting heart the same mode of Catholic worship and the same Catholic faith that the Church held in the first seven centu- ries of Her existence. It includes the Anglican, Greek, and Roman communions. The author declares the authority of the Church to be above that of the Bible (pp. 5562), and denies the right of private judgment. He declares the infallibility of the Church so far as it uttered its voice in ecumenical councils, but affirms that since the six first General Councils and the division of the Eastern and Western Communions, no such council has been possible. lie holds to the sacerdotal efficacy of clerical action irresuective of the character and intention of the officiating priest; to the seven sacraments; prayers for the dead; baptismal re-creation, and regeneration; the necessity to the individual of a clerical spiritual Director, and apparently though not explicitly, of the Confessional (pp. 146148). He also holds that the Lords Supper is a sacrificial sacrament, and says: At every Eucha- rist the power of the Holy Ghost is invoked that the elements may become the Body and Blood (pp. 56 and 77). The theo- logical doctrine is Medimval, avowedly derived, so far as he has occasion to define it, from Thomas Aquinas. Thus in speaking of * Four Conferences touching the operation of the Holy Spirit, detivered at Newark, N. J. By the Rev. F. C. EWER, S.T.D.. under the sanction of the Bishop, and at the request of nine of the clergy and of laymen from each of the parishes of that city. Repeated by request in Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons, 182 Fifth avenue. 1880. pp. 168.

124 Notiee8 of New Book8. [Jan., ARTICLE VILENOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE OPERATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.*~The first of these Con- ferences treats of the General work of the Spirit before Pente- cost among the Jews and the heathens; and outside of the church since Pentecost ; the second of the Special work of the Spirit in the church ; the third and fourth of the Special work of the Spirit in the soul of the baptized individual. The work pro- fesses to teach on these subjects the doctrines of the Catholic church as distinguished from Protestantism. The Catholic church, as here defined, consists of those bodies which, however they may differ on other points, unite as one body in bringing down to the present day the Apostolic ministry iii regular succes- sion, in not denying the Apostolic Sacraments, and in holding with consenting heart the same mode of Catholic worship and the same Catholic faith that the Church held in the first seven centu- ries of Her existence. It includes the Anglican, Greek, and Roman communions. The author declares the authority of the Church to be above that of the Bible (pp. 5562), and denies the right of private judgment. He declares the infallibility of the Church so far as it uttered its voice in ecumenical councils, but affirms that since the six first General Councils and the division of the Eastern and Western Communions, no such council has been possible. lie holds to the sacerdotal efficacy of clerical action irresuective of the character and intention of the officiating priest; to the seven sacraments; prayers for the dead; baptismal re-creation, and regeneration; the necessity to the individual of a clerical spiritual Director, and apparently though not explicitly, of the Confessional (pp. 146148). He also holds that the Lords Supper is a sacrificial sacrament, and says: At every Eucha- rist the power of the Holy Ghost is invoked that the elements may become the Body and Blood (pp. 56 and 77). The theo- logical doctrine is Medimval, avowedly derived, so far as he has occasion to define it, from Thomas Aquinas. Thus in speaking of * Four Conferences touching the operation of the Holy Spirit, detivered at Newark, N. J. By the Rev. F. C. EWER, S.T.D.. under the sanction of the Bishop, and at the request of nine of the clergy and of laymen from each of the parishes of that city. Repeated by request in Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons, 182 Fifth avenue. 1880. pp. 168.

124 Notiee8 of New Book8. [Jan., ARTICLE VILENOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. THE OPERATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.*~The first of these Con- ferences treats of the General work of the Spirit before Pente- cost among the Jews and the heathens; and outside of the church since Pentecost ; the second of the Special work of the Spirit in the church ; the third and fourth of the Special work of the Spirit in the soul of the baptized individual. The work pro- fesses to teach on these subjects the doctrines of the Catholic church as distinguished from Protestantism. The Catholic church, as here defined, consists of those bodies which, however they may differ on other points, unite as one body in bringing down to the present day the Apostolic ministry iii regular succes- sion, in not denying the Apostolic Sacraments, and in holding with consenting heart the same mode of Catholic worship and the same Catholic faith that the Church held in the first seven centu- ries of Her existence. It includes the Anglican, Greek, and Roman communions. The author declares the authority of the Church to be above that of the Bible (pp. 5562), and denies the right of private judgment. He declares the infallibility of the Church so far as it uttered its voice in ecumenical councils, but affirms that since the six first General Councils and the division of the Eastern and Western Communions, no such council has been possible. lie holds to the sacerdotal efficacy of clerical action irresuective of the character and intention of the officiating priest; to the seven sacraments; prayers for the dead; baptismal re-creation, and regeneration; the necessity to the individual of a clerical spiritual Director, and apparently though not explicitly, of the Confessional (pp. 146148). He also holds that the Lords Supper is a sacrificial sacrament, and says: At every Eucha- rist the power of the Holy Ghost is invoked that the elements may become the Body and Blood (pp. 56 and 77). The theo- logical doctrine is Medimval, avowedly derived, so far as he has occasion to define it, from Thomas Aquinas. Thus in speaking of * Four Conferences touching the operation of the Holy Spirit, detivered at Newark, N. J. By the Rev. F. C. EWER, S.T.D.. under the sanction of the Bishop, and at the request of nine of the clergy and of laymen from each of the parishes of that city. Repeated by request in Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons, 182 Fifth avenue. 1880. pp. 168. 1881.1 Notices of New Books. 125 the Spirits work hi sanctification he says: This sanctifying Grace, entering the man, finds, first, the easily moved Gifts, and starts them into action; and then, through the reaction of the Gifts upon the three Virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity, and the eomI)ined reaction of all these, namely, of both the Gifts and the Virtues, upon the natural Intellect, Will, and Affections, a man gradually overcomes his seven deadly sins, bears the twelve Fruits of the Spirit, performs the Seven Corporal and the Seven Spiritual Works of Mercy, and attains to the Eight Beatitudes The three virtues or organs of Faith, Hope, and Charity are seated in the Intellect, the Will, and the Affections, each in each; the Seven Gifts are seated in the three Virtues. The Sanctifying Grace, which is the Holy Ghosts influence by which he moves us spiritually, in going forth from the Spirit to operate upon us, finds within us, first, the Seven Gifts or habitual dispositions; moves these; and by them starts the three Virtues within us into action, and thus illuminates and sauctifies our natural powers of Intellect, Will, and Affections, in which the Virtues are seated, and among which they are interlocked like wheels in a watch, (pp. 121, 123). The volume may be read with much interest as an able and well-written presentation of the views of ritualistic high-church- men on these subjects. It is throughout evidently sincere, earn- est, devout, and spiritual. The wonder is how any one, born and educated in this country and this century. could ever so get back to this Medi~val point of view and envelop his whole intel- lectual and spiritual life with the Mediteval atmosphere and sur- roundings. THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.*~~:~~This volume consists of nine lectures on the Sermon on the Mount, delivered in Association Hall in Philadelphia, on successive Tuesday noons, during the fall of 1880with the addition of five others. They are printed as delivered, retaining the style of oral address. Dr. Boardman is well known as an earnest and effective preacher. His style is too florid for the approval of severe taste. But this volume will find many readers, and is fitted to impart spiritual instruction and quickening. A prominent aim of the book is to direct attention to distinctively Christian ethics and its fundamental importance. * like Mountain of Instruction. By GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN, author of Stud- ies in the Creative Week, Studies in the Model Prayer, and Epiphanies of the risen Lord. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1, 3, and 5 Bond street. 1881. pp. 360.

1881.1 Notices of New Books. 125 the Spirits work hi sanctification he says: This sanctifying Grace, entering the man, finds, first, the easily moved Gifts, and starts them into action; and then, through the reaction of the Gifts upon the three Virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity, and the eomI)ined reaction of all these, namely, of both the Gifts and the Virtues, upon the natural Intellect, Will, and Affections, a man gradually overcomes his seven deadly sins, bears the twelve Fruits of the Spirit, performs the Seven Corporal and the Seven Spiritual Works of Mercy, and attains to the Eight Beatitudes The three virtues or organs of Faith, Hope, and Charity are seated in the Intellect, the Will, and the Affections, each in each; the Seven Gifts are seated in the three Virtues. The Sanctifying Grace, which is the Holy Ghosts influence by which he moves us spiritually, in going forth from the Spirit to operate upon us, finds within us, first, the Seven Gifts or habitual dispositions; moves these; and by them starts the three Virtues within us into action, and thus illuminates and sauctifies our natural powers of Intellect, Will, and Affections, in which the Virtues are seated, and among which they are interlocked like wheels in a watch, (pp. 121, 123). The volume may be read with much interest as an able and well-written presentation of the views of ritualistic high-church- men on these subjects. It is throughout evidently sincere, earn- est, devout, and spiritual. The wonder is how any one, born and educated in this country and this century. could ever so get back to this Medi~val point of view and envelop his whole intel- lectual and spiritual life with the Mediteval atmosphere and sur- roundings. THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.*~~:~~This volume consists of nine lectures on the Sermon on the Mount, delivered in Association Hall in Philadelphia, on successive Tuesday noons, during the fall of 1880with the addition of five others. They are printed as delivered, retaining the style of oral address. Dr. Boardman is well known as an earnest and effective preacher. His style is too florid for the approval of severe taste. But this volume will find many readers, and is fitted to impart spiritual instruction and quickening. A prominent aim of the book is to direct attention to distinctively Christian ethics and its fundamental importance. * like Mountain of Instruction. By GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN, author of Stud- ies in the Creative Week, Studies in the Model Prayer, and Epiphanies of the risen Lord. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1, 3, and 5 Bond street. 1881. pp. 360. 126 Notice8 of New Book~s. [Jan., THE EDEN TABLEAU.*~~ThC author regards Eden and all which it contained as historical objective reality, and, at the same time, as symbolically real throughout. The Garden is a tableau. The whole scene, the actors, the action, the dialogue are a specimen of divine object teaching, from which by corruption all ethnic sys- tems have come, from which by reformation the Levitical system was derived. This scene is regarded as setting forth in emblems or object-lessons events in the spiritual realm before the exist- ence of man, among which are the origin among the heavenly spirits of that conflict of good and evil which is still going on in the world, the covenant of redemption, the identification of Christ with humanity, and the election of the redeemed. From this point of view he explains the significance successively of each of the more prominent actors and events. The explanation is origi- nal and unique. There are paragraphs which are quickening and suggestive. With his quick and vigorous intellect the author could hardly write a volume on any subject without them. His genial and loving spirit, his spiritual and hearty piety, and his honesty and earnestness of purpose disarm adverse criticism. But the whole book in its conception and development is so far away from our habits of thought, the speculations are so venture- some and imaginative, that we find it difficult to put ourselves at the point of view from which it was composed and are almost diz- zied by reading it. We give the following paragraph as exemplifying his power of vivid picturing. One great object of the (Mosaic) ritual was to impress upon the national mind the conception of God as near in space, remote only in character; as near and friendly to them, but far from and hostile to their pride and selfishness. Their king came to live among them. He had his tent or tabernacle. He had his throne or mercy-seat. He ate with them. They heard his voice. They saw the light of his fire. As neighbors see the smoke from their neighbors chimneys, the light through the win- dows; as subjects see the illumination of their princes palace, so it was with them. He kept house among them. This taught them a lesson; it formed a language. They spoke of the Lord as walking among them, dwelling in Israel, placing his name there, and there taking his rest and his delight, and many other phrases which have passed into the dialects of Christendom. (page 25). * The Eden Tableau, or Bible Object-Teaching; A Study. By CHARLES BEECHER. Boston: Lee & Shepard, Publishers. New York, Charles P. Dihingharn. 1880.

126 Notice8 of New Book~s. [Jan., THE EDEN TABLEAU.*~~ThC author regards Eden and all which it contained as historical objective reality, and, at the same time, as symbolically real throughout. The Garden is a tableau. The whole scene, the actors, the action, the dialogue are a specimen of divine object teaching, from which by corruption all ethnic sys- tems have come, from which by reformation the Levitical system was derived. This scene is regarded as setting forth in emblems or object-lessons events in the spiritual realm before the exist- ence of man, among which are the origin among the heavenly spirits of that conflict of good and evil which is still going on in the world, the covenant of redemption, the identification of Christ with humanity, and the election of the redeemed. From this point of view he explains the significance successively of each of the more prominent actors and events. The explanation is origi- nal and unique. There are paragraphs which are quickening and suggestive. With his quick and vigorous intellect the author could hardly write a volume on any subject without them. His genial and loving spirit, his spiritual and hearty piety, and his honesty and earnestness of purpose disarm adverse criticism. But the whole book in its conception and development is so far away from our habits of thought, the speculations are so venture- some and imaginative, that we find it difficult to put ourselves at the point of view from which it was composed and are almost diz- zied by reading it. We give the following paragraph as exemplifying his power of vivid picturing. One great object of the (Mosaic) ritual was to impress upon the national mind the conception of God as near in space, remote only in character; as near and friendly to them, but far from and hostile to their pride and selfishness. Their king came to live among them. He had his tent or tabernacle. He had his throne or mercy-seat. He ate with them. They heard his voice. They saw the light of his fire. As neighbors see the smoke from their neighbors chimneys, the light through the win- dows; as subjects see the illumination of their princes palace, so it was with them. He kept house among them. This taught them a lesson; it formed a language. They spoke of the Lord as walking among them, dwelling in Israel, placing his name there, and there taking his rest and his delight, and many other phrases which have passed into the dialects of Christendom. (page 25). * The Eden Tableau, or Bible Object-Teaching; A Study. By CHARLES BEECHER. Boston: Lee & Shepard, Publishers. New York, Charles P. Dihingharn. 1880. 1881.] Nob-ices of New Books. 127 THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT EGYPT.*~~~The subjects of these six lectures are, The sources of information respecting the ancient Egyptian religion; Antiquity and characteristics of Egyptian civ- ilization; The gods of Egypt; Communion with the unseen world; Religious books of Egypt; Henotheism, Pantheism, and Materi- alism. The author is already known as an Egyptologist, and the lectures throughout show him to be learned in that department of study. It is the design of the lectures to present with scientific accuracy the latest results of investigation respecting the religion of Egypt in a form clear to all intelligent readers. The author thus condenses and makes accessible to the people a great amount of information on this important and interesting subject. A cer- tain new and peculiar view, which he presents and claims to sus- tain by the results of recent investigations, must be left to the decision of specialists in this department of study. CANONIcITY.fThis volume is a collection and systematic clas- sification of the testimonies concerning the genuineness and authen- ticity of the books of the New Testament. It begins with the testi- monies and evidences of the existence of these writings from early times, from the Peshito Syriac version down to Philarets Cate- chism of the Eastern Church, published in ~oscow, 1839. The ancient MSS. and versions are described, and the various cata- logues and canons given in full. This is followed by the testimo- nies of the Fathers concerning the New Testament as a whole; next are testimonies concerning the four gospels; next we have the testimonies of the Apostolic fathers; then the testimonies con- cerning each book of the New Testament separately. In the sec- ond part we have the testimonies of the heathen; in the third part, testimonies of heretics; in the fourth part, the testimonies respecting the extra-canonical gospels. The writer has aimed to give in the original languages full quotations of all, in the litera- ture of the early centuries, which bears on the origin and history of the books of the New Testament, and thus to make accessible * The Origin and Growth of Religion us illustrated by the Religion of Ancient Egypt. By P. LEPAGE REEOUF. The Hibbert Lectures for 1879. New York: Charles Scribners Sons, 743 and 745 Broadway, 1880. pp. 270. 1 Canonicity: A collection of early testimonies to the canonical books of the New Testament. Based on Kirchhofers Quellensammhing. By A. H. CHAR- TEals, D.D., Professor of Biblical Criticism mid Biblical Antiquities in the Univer- sity of Edinburgh; and one of her Majestys Chaplains. Win. Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London. 1880. 8vo., pp. cxx. and 484.

1881.] Nob-ices of New Books. 127 THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT EGYPT.*~~~The subjects of these six lectures are, The sources of information respecting the ancient Egyptian religion; Antiquity and characteristics of Egyptian civ- ilization; The gods of Egypt; Communion with the unseen world; Religious books of Egypt; Henotheism, Pantheism, and Materi- alism. The author is already known as an Egyptologist, and the lectures throughout show him to be learned in that department of study. It is the design of the lectures to present with scientific accuracy the latest results of investigation respecting the religion of Egypt in a form clear to all intelligent readers. The author thus condenses and makes accessible to the people a great amount of information on this important and interesting subject. A cer- tain new and peculiar view, which he presents and claims to sus- tain by the results of recent investigations, must be left to the decision of specialists in this department of study. CANONIcITY.fThis volume is a collection and systematic clas- sification of the testimonies concerning the genuineness and authen- ticity of the books of the New Testament. It begins with the testi- monies and evidences of the existence of these writings from early times, from the Peshito Syriac version down to Philarets Cate- chism of the Eastern Church, published in ~oscow, 1839. The ancient MSS. and versions are described, and the various cata- logues and canons given in full. This is followed by the testimo- nies of the Fathers concerning the New Testament as a whole; next are testimonies concerning the four gospels; next we have the testimonies of the Apostolic fathers; then the testimonies con- cerning each book of the New Testament separately. In the sec- ond part we have the testimonies of the heathen; in the third part, testimonies of heretics; in the fourth part, the testimonies respecting the extra-canonical gospels. The writer has aimed to give in the original languages full quotations of all, in the litera- ture of the early centuries, which bears on the origin and history of the books of the New Testament, and thus to make accessible * The Origin and Growth of Religion us illustrated by the Religion of Ancient Egypt. By P. LEPAGE REEOUF. The Hibbert Lectures for 1879. New York: Charles Scribners Sons, 743 and 745 Broadway, 1880. pp. 270. 1 Canonicity: A collection of early testimonies to the canonical books of the New Testament. Based on Kirchhofers Quellensammhing. By A. H. CHAR- TEals, D.D., Professor of Biblical Criticism mid Biblical Antiquities in the Univer- sity of Edinburgh; and one of her Majestys Chaplains. Win. Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London. 1880. 8vo., pp. cxx. and 484.

1881.] Nob-ices of New Books. 127 THE RELIGION OF ANCIENT EGYPT.*~~~The subjects of these six lectures are, The sources of information respecting the ancient Egyptian religion; Antiquity and characteristics of Egyptian civ- ilization; The gods of Egypt; Communion with the unseen world; Religious books of Egypt; Henotheism, Pantheism, and Materi- alism. The author is already known as an Egyptologist, and the lectures throughout show him to be learned in that department of study. It is the design of the lectures to present with scientific accuracy the latest results of investigation respecting the religion of Egypt in a form clear to all intelligent readers. The author thus condenses and makes accessible to the people a great amount of information on this important and interesting subject. A cer- tain new and peculiar view, which he presents and claims to sus- tain by the results of recent investigations, must be left to the decision of specialists in this department of study. CANONIcITY.fThis volume is a collection and systematic clas- sification of the testimonies concerning the genuineness and authen- ticity of the books of the New Testament. It begins with the testi- monies and evidences of the existence of these writings from early times, from the Peshito Syriac version down to Philarets Cate- chism of the Eastern Church, published in ~oscow, 1839. The ancient MSS. and versions are described, and the various cata- logues and canons given in full. This is followed by the testimo- nies of the Fathers concerning the New Testament as a whole; next are testimonies concerning the four gospels; next we have the testimonies of the Apostolic fathers; then the testimonies con- cerning each book of the New Testament separately. In the sec- ond part we have the testimonies of the heathen; in the third part, testimonies of heretics; in the fourth part, the testimonies respecting the extra-canonical gospels. The writer has aimed to give in the original languages full quotations of all, in the litera- ture of the early centuries, which bears on the origin and history of the books of the New Testament, and thus to make accessible * The Origin and Growth of Religion us illustrated by the Religion of Ancient Egypt. By P. LEPAGE REEOUF. The Hibbert Lectures for 1879. New York: Charles Scribners Sons, 743 and 745 Broadway, 1880. pp. 270. 1 Canonicity: A collection of early testimonies to the canonical books of the New Testament. Based on Kirchhofers Quellensammhing. By A. H. CHAR- TEals, D.D., Professor of Biblical Criticism mid Biblical Antiquities in the Univer- sity of Edinburgh; and one of her Majestys Chaplains. Win. Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London. 1880. 8vo., pp. cxx. and 484. 128 Notices of New Books. [Jan., in systematic form all the data by which the question of their canonicity must be decided. The citations of testimonies is pre- ceded by an introduction of 120 pages, containing historical and critical notices of the authors and works cited. The citations themselves are accompanied throughout with critical foot-notes. The work professes to be based on Kirchhofers Quellensamm- lung ; but in this the author hardly does himself justice; for the Introduction and a large part of the noted are new; and there has been great change in the extracts themselves, to accord with new discoveries of MSS., the shifting grounds of controversy, and the special researches of scholars. It is a work of great learning, and careful scholarship, and of the highest value in facilitating the investigation of the questions at issue. THE CnEATIoN.*~This volume comprises twelve lectures de- livered to the officers and students of St. Lawrence University. The subjects are: Primeval Chaos; Light; The Firmament, Sea, and Dry Land; Plant Life; Animal Life; The Geological Record; Man; Problem of Civilization; Failure of Primeval Society; Di- versity of Tongues; Antiquity of Man; Ancient Civilization in North America. The subjects are treated in a popular way; the style is clear, and the lectures may be read with interest. The author does not attempt to reconcile science and religion, but as- sumes that there is no necessary conflict between them. MITCHELLS EDITION OF GEsENLUs HEBREW GRAMMAR.f The peculiarities of a Grammar can be accurately ascertained only by using it. So far as we can judge from a briefexamination, this edition retains the essential characteristics of this old and stand- ard grammar, it adopts the essential improvements of Kautzsch, and aims at securing more of simplicity of treatment and a better arrangement. It adds also indexes which are important helps. We anticipate that it will be adopted in our theological schools as the latest and most thoroughly revised and improved edition of the Grammar. *The Creation, and the Early Developments of Society. By JAMES H. CHAPIN, PaD., Professor of Geology and Mineralogy, St. Lawrence University. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons, 182 Fifth avenue. pp. 2~6. ~ Gesenius Hebrew Grammar. Translated by BENJ. DAvIS, LL.D. from Rddi. gers Edition. Thoroughly revised and enlarged, on the basis of the latest edition of Prof. F. Kautzsch, D.D., and from other recent authorities, by EDwARD C. MITCHELL, D.D, with full Subject, Scripture, and Hebrew Indexes. Andover: Warren F. Draper. 1880. pp. xxxiii. and 423.

128 Notices of New Books. [Jan., in systematic form all the data by which the question of their canonicity must be decided. The citations of testimonies is pre- ceded by an introduction of 120 pages, containing historical and critical notices of the authors and works cited. The citations themselves are accompanied throughout with critical foot-notes. The work professes to be based on Kirchhofers Quellensamm- lung ; but in this the author hardly does himself justice; for the Introduction and a large part of the noted are new; and there has been great change in the extracts themselves, to accord with new discoveries of MSS., the shifting grounds of controversy, and the special researches of scholars. It is a work of great learning, and careful scholarship, and of the highest value in facilitating the investigation of the questions at issue. THE CnEATIoN.*~This volume comprises twelve lectures de- livered to the officers and students of St. Lawrence University. The subjects are: Primeval Chaos; Light; The Firmament, Sea, and Dry Land; Plant Life; Animal Life; The Geological Record; Man; Problem of Civilization; Failure of Primeval Society; Di- versity of Tongues; Antiquity of Man; Ancient Civilization in North America. The subjects are treated in a popular way; the style is clear, and the lectures may be read with interest. The author does not attempt to reconcile science and religion, but as- sumes that there is no necessary conflict between them. MITCHELLS EDITION OF GEsENLUs HEBREW GRAMMAR.f The peculiarities of a Grammar can be accurately ascertained only by using it. So far as we can judge from a briefexamination, this edition retains the essential characteristics of this old and stand- ard grammar, it adopts the essential improvements of Kautzsch, and aims at securing more of simplicity of treatment and a better arrangement. It adds also indexes which are important helps. We anticipate that it will be adopted in our theological schools as the latest and most thoroughly revised and improved edition of the Grammar. *The Creation, and the Early Developments of Society. By JAMES H. CHAPIN, PaD., Professor of Geology and Mineralogy, St. Lawrence University. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons, 182 Fifth avenue. pp. 2~6. ~ Gesenius Hebrew Grammar. Translated by BENJ. DAvIS, LL.D. from Rddi. gers Edition. Thoroughly revised and enlarged, on the basis of the latest edition of Prof. F. Kautzsch, D.D., and from other recent authorities, by EDwARD C. MITCHELL, D.D, with full Subject, Scripture, and Hebrew Indexes. Andover: Warren F. Draper. 1880. pp. xxxiii. and 423.

128 Notices of New Books. [Jan., in systematic form all the data by which the question of their canonicity must be decided. The citations of testimonies is pre- ceded by an introduction of 120 pages, containing historical and critical notices of the authors and works cited. The citations themselves are accompanied throughout with critical foot-notes. The work professes to be based on Kirchhofers Quellensamm- lung ; but in this the author hardly does himself justice; for the Introduction and a large part of the noted are new; and there has been great change in the extracts themselves, to accord with new discoveries of MSS., the shifting grounds of controversy, and the special researches of scholars. It is a work of great learning, and careful scholarship, and of the highest value in facilitating the investigation of the questions at issue. THE CnEATIoN.*~This volume comprises twelve lectures de- livered to the officers and students of St. Lawrence University. The subjects are: Primeval Chaos; Light; The Firmament, Sea, and Dry Land; Plant Life; Animal Life; The Geological Record; Man; Problem of Civilization; Failure of Primeval Society; Di- versity of Tongues; Antiquity of Man; Ancient Civilization in North America. The subjects are treated in a popular way; the style is clear, and the lectures may be read with interest. The author does not attempt to reconcile science and religion, but as- sumes that there is no necessary conflict between them. MITCHELLS EDITION OF GEsENLUs HEBREW GRAMMAR.f The peculiarities of a Grammar can be accurately ascertained only by using it. So far as we can judge from a briefexamination, this edition retains the essential characteristics of this old and stand- ard grammar, it adopts the essential improvements of Kautzsch, and aims at securing more of simplicity of treatment and a better arrangement. It adds also indexes which are important helps. We anticipate that it will be adopted in our theological schools as the latest and most thoroughly revised and improved edition of the Grammar. *The Creation, and the Early Developments of Society. By JAMES H. CHAPIN, PaD., Professor of Geology and Mineralogy, St. Lawrence University. New York: G. P. Putnams Sons, 182 Fifth avenue. pp. 2~6. ~ Gesenius Hebrew Grammar. Translated by BENJ. DAvIS, LL.D. from Rddi. gers Edition. Thoroughly revised and enlarged, on the basis of the latest edition of Prof. F. Kautzsch, D.D., and from other recent authorities, by EDwARD C. MITCHELL, D.D, with full Subject, Scripture, and Hebrew Indexes. Andover: Warren F. Draper. 1880. pp. xxxiii. and 423. 1881j Notices of New Books. 129 Two WORLDS ARE OuRs.*~The two worlds are the spiritual world revealed in Redemption, as recorded in the Bible, and the natural world. The latter is correspondent with the former and symbolical of it. The volume consists of twenty-one essays, set- ting forth this correspondence of the natural with the spiritual, in as many particular subjects, such as the lilies, the stars, the lich- ens and mosses, weeds, and others. The essays are well written, and the instruction strikingly presented. The book will be read with interest by those who enjoy this kind of reading, of which the volume is one of the better specimens. For continuous read- ing it is too much like a whole meal of sweetmeats. But the most cultivated mind may find satisfaction and refreshment in the occasional reading of an essay. Dr. Macmillan has published sev- eral volumes of the same general character, which have been widely read. DR. MACDUFFS IN CHRISTo.fPaul in his Epistles uses the phrase In Christ thirty-three times, besides the equivalent phrases, In him, In the Lord. This volume consists of a series of papers, treating of the spiritual and practical signifi- cance of In Christ, in the several passages in which Paul uses it. Dr. Macduff has published thirty-nine different works on the spiritual life, many of which have been widely circulated and some of them, as we have had occasion to know, have been emi- nently useful in ministering to the edification and consolation of Christians. This volume has the same general characteristics and seems to be one of the best of the series. NOTES ON GENEsIS.t.These Notes were originally prepared for a series of Sunday afternoon catechisings. The authors de- sign is to interpret Genesis in the light of the New Testament, * Two Worlds are Ours. By HUGH MACMILLAN, D.D. Two worlds are ours: tis only sin Forbids us to descry The mystic heaven and earth within, Plain as the sea and sky.KEBLE. London: Macmillan & Co. 1880. pp. xxxii. and 349. t In Christo: or, The Monogram of St. Paul. By J. R. MACDUFF, D.D. New York: Robert Carter & Brothers, 530 Broadway. 1881. Pp. xx. and P78. ~ Notes on Genesis: or, Christ and his Church among the Patriarchs. By the Rev. NATHANIEL KEYMER, MA., vicar of Headon, Notts, in the Diocese of Lin- coln. With a preliminary notice by the Bishop of Lincoln. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. New York: Scribner and Welford. 1880. pp. 93. Price 60 cents. VOL. iv. 9

1881j Notices of New Books. 129 Two WORLDS ARE OuRs.*~The two worlds are the spiritual world revealed in Redemption, as recorded in the Bible, and the natural world. The latter is correspondent with the former and symbolical of it. The volume consists of twenty-one essays, set- ting forth this correspondence of the natural with the spiritual, in as many particular subjects, such as the lilies, the stars, the lich- ens and mosses, weeds, and others. The essays are well written, and the instruction strikingly presented. The book will be read with interest by those who enjoy this kind of reading, of which the volume is one of the better specimens. For continuous read- ing it is too much like a whole meal of sweetmeats. But the most cultivated mind may find satisfaction and refreshment in the occasional reading of an essay. Dr. Macmillan has published sev- eral volumes of the same general character, which have been widely read. DR. MACDUFFS IN CHRISTo.fPaul in his Epistles uses the phrase In Christ thirty-three times, besides the equivalent phrases, In him, In the Lord. This volume consists of a series of papers, treating of the spiritual and practical signifi- cance of In Christ, in the several passages in which Paul uses it. Dr. Macduff has published thirty-nine different works on the spiritual life, many of which have been widely circulated and some of them, as we have had occasion to know, have been emi- nently useful in ministering to the edification and consolation of Christians. This volume has the same general characteristics and seems to be one of the best of the series. NOTES ON GENEsIS.t.These Notes were originally prepared for a series of Sunday afternoon catechisings. The authors de- sign is to interpret Genesis in the light of the New Testament, * Two Worlds are Ours. By HUGH MACMILLAN, D.D. Two worlds are ours: tis only sin Forbids us to descry The mystic heaven and earth within, Plain as the sea and sky.KEBLE. London: Macmillan & Co. 1880. pp. xxxii. and 349. t In Christo: or, The Monogram of St. Paul. By J. R. MACDUFF, D.D. New York: Robert Carter & Brothers, 530 Broadway. 1881. Pp. xx. and P78. ~ Notes on Genesis: or, Christ and his Church among the Patriarchs. By the Rev. NATHANIEL KEYMER, MA., vicar of Headon, Notts, in the Diocese of Lin- coln. With a preliminary notice by the Bishop of Lincoln. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. New York: Scribner and Welford. 1880. pp. 93. Price 60 cents. VOL. iv. 9

1881j Notices of New Books. 129 Two WORLDS ARE OuRs.*~The two worlds are the spiritual world revealed in Redemption, as recorded in the Bible, and the natural world. The latter is correspondent with the former and symbolical of it. The volume consists of twenty-one essays, set- ting forth this correspondence of the natural with the spiritual, in as many particular subjects, such as the lilies, the stars, the lich- ens and mosses, weeds, and others. The essays are well written, and the instruction strikingly presented. The book will be read with interest by those who enjoy this kind of reading, of which the volume is one of the better specimens. For continuous read- ing it is too much like a whole meal of sweetmeats. But the most cultivated mind may find satisfaction and refreshment in the occasional reading of an essay. Dr. Macmillan has published sev- eral volumes of the same general character, which have been widely read. DR. MACDUFFS IN CHRISTo.fPaul in his Epistles uses the phrase In Christ thirty-three times, besides the equivalent phrases, In him, In the Lord. This volume consists of a series of papers, treating of the spiritual and practical signifi- cance of In Christ, in the several passages in which Paul uses it. Dr. Macduff has published thirty-nine different works on the spiritual life, many of which have been widely circulated and some of them, as we have had occasion to know, have been emi- nently useful in ministering to the edification and consolation of Christians. This volume has the same general characteristics and seems to be one of the best of the series. NOTES ON GENEsIS.t.These Notes were originally prepared for a series of Sunday afternoon catechisings. The authors de- sign is to interpret Genesis in the light of the New Testament, * Two Worlds are Ours. By HUGH MACMILLAN, D.D. Two worlds are ours: tis only sin Forbids us to descry The mystic heaven and earth within, Plain as the sea and sky.KEBLE. London: Macmillan & Co. 1880. pp. xxxii. and 349. t In Christo: or, The Monogram of St. Paul. By J. R. MACDUFF, D.D. New York: Robert Carter & Brothers, 530 Broadway. 1881. Pp. xx. and P78. ~ Notes on Genesis: or, Christ and his Church among the Patriarchs. By the Rev. NATHANIEL KEYMER, MA., vicar of Headon, Notts, in the Diocese of Lin- coln. With a preliminary notice by the Bishop of Lincoln. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. New York: Scribner and Welford. 1880. pp. 93. Price 60 cents. VOL. iv. 9

1881j Notices of New Books. 129 Two WORLDS ARE OuRs.*~The two worlds are the spiritual world revealed in Redemption, as recorded in the Bible, and the natural world. The latter is correspondent with the former and symbolical of it. The volume consists of twenty-one essays, set- ting forth this correspondence of the natural with the spiritual, in as many particular subjects, such as the lilies, the stars, the lich- ens and mosses, weeds, and others. The essays are well written, and the instruction strikingly presented. The book will be read with interest by those who enjoy this kind of reading, of which the volume is one of the better specimens. For continuous read- ing it is too much like a whole meal of sweetmeats. But the most cultivated mind may find satisfaction and refreshment in the occasional reading of an essay. Dr. Macmillan has published sev- eral volumes of the same general character, which have been widely read. DR. MACDUFFS IN CHRISTo.fPaul in his Epistles uses the phrase In Christ thirty-three times, besides the equivalent phrases, In him, In the Lord. This volume consists of a series of papers, treating of the spiritual and practical signifi- cance of In Christ, in the several passages in which Paul uses it. Dr. Macduff has published thirty-nine different works on the spiritual life, many of which have been widely circulated and some of them, as we have had occasion to know, have been emi- nently useful in ministering to the edification and consolation of Christians. This volume has the same general characteristics and seems to be one of the best of the series. NOTES ON GENEsIS.t.These Notes were originally prepared for a series of Sunday afternoon catechisings. The authors de- sign is to interpret Genesis in the light of the New Testament, * Two Worlds are Ours. By HUGH MACMILLAN, D.D. Two worlds are ours: tis only sin Forbids us to descry The mystic heaven and earth within, Plain as the sea and sky.KEBLE. London: Macmillan & Co. 1880. pp. xxxii. and 349. t In Christo: or, The Monogram of St. Paul. By J. R. MACDUFF, D.D. New York: Robert Carter & Brothers, 530 Broadway. 1881. Pp. xx. and P78. ~ Notes on Genesis: or, Christ and his Church among the Patriarchs. By the Rev. NATHANIEL KEYMER, MA., vicar of Headon, Notts, in the Diocese of Lin- coln. With a preliminary notice by the Bishop of Lincoln. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. New York: Scribner and Welford. 1880. pp. 93. Price 60 cents. VOL. iv. 9 130 1Wotice~ of New Booke. [Jan., and to bring out, under each lesson from Genesis, the spiritual thought which the New Testament suggests on that topic. Each lesson has a reference to some passage in the New Testament bearing on the subject. The book does not contain formal notes; but in treating each lesson, the facts and truths demanding atten- tion are suggested by a word, or phrase, or short sentence, with references to both testaments; the student is expected to study out the significance by comparing scripture with scripture. It is a good book for family instruction in the Bible; and any one may profitably use it as a guide to thought in the private study of Genesis. RELIGION AND CHEMI5TRY.*~The first edition of this work was published in 1864, when it attracted much attention and was fav- orably received. It has now been thoroughly revised and con- formed to the progress of scientific discovery; the chapter on crystallography has been omitted, and considerable new matter added. The principles which the author elucidates and vindicates he declares as follows: I believe that the existence of an intelli- gent Author of nature, infinite in wisdom and absolute in power, may be proved from the phenomena of the material world with as much certainty as can be any theory of science. I am of the opin- ion that the facts of nature throughout are consistent with the be- lief that the Author of Nature is a personal being, and the one only and true God revealed to us in the Bible. Lastly, I think that the relations of the human mind to the material world, viewed in the light of modern science, give us strong reason to believe, on scientific grounds alone, that the universe is still sustained in all its parts by the same omnipotent and omniscient Will which first called it into being (page 329). Lie selects the atmosphere, oxygen, water, and several other nat- ural objects, and, in the light of the most recent discoveries, in- dicates the evidences which they give in support of these princi- ples. The volume has also chapters on The Argument from Special Adaptations, The Argument from general plan, and The necessary limitations of scientific and religious thought. The discussions are in popular rather than in technical language, they are rich in scientific information, the arguments are forcible, and the whole book one that may be read with deep interest. * Religion and Chemistry: A Re-statement of an old Argument. By JOSIAH PARSONS COOKE, Erving Professor of Chemistry and Mineralogy in Harvard Uni- versity. A newly revised edition. New York: Charles Scribners Sons, 143 and 145 Broadway. 1880. pp. ix. and 331.

130 1Wotice~ of New Booke. [Jan., and to bring out, under each lesson from Genesis, the spiritual thought which the New Testament suggests on that topic. Each lesson has a reference to some passage in the New Testament bearing on the subject. The book does not contain formal notes; but in treating each lesson, the facts and truths demanding atten- tion are suggested by a word, or phrase, or short sentence, with references to both testaments; the student is expected to study out the significance by comparing scripture with scripture. It is a good book for family instruction in the Bible; and any one may profitably use it as a guide to thought in the private study of Genesis. RELIGION AND CHEMI5TRY.*~The first edition of this work was published in 1864, when it attracted much attention and was fav- orably received. It has now been thoroughly revised and con- formed to the progress of scientific discovery; the chapter on crystallography has been omitted, and considerable new matter added. The principles which the author elucidates and vindicates he declares as follows: I believe that the existence of an intelli- gent Author of nature, infinite in wisdom and absolute in power, may be proved from the phenomena of the material world with as much certainty as can be any theory of science. I am of the opin- ion that the facts of nature throughout are consistent with the be- lief that the Author of Nature is a personal being, and the one only and true God revealed to us in the Bible. Lastly, I think that the relations of the human mind to the material world, viewed in the light of modern science, give us strong reason to believe, on scientific grounds alone, that the universe is still sustained in all its parts by the same omnipotent and omniscient Will which first called it into being (page 329). Lie selects the atmosphere, oxygen, water, and several other nat- ural objects, and, in the light of the most recent discoveries, in- dicates the evidences which they give in support of these princi- ples. The volume has also chapters on The Argument from Special Adaptations, The Argument from general plan, and The necessary limitations of scientific and religious thought. The discussions are in popular rather than in technical language, they are rich in scientific information, the arguments are forcible, and the whole book one that may be read with deep interest. * Religion and Chemistry: A Re-statement of an old Argument. By JOSIAH PARSONS COOKE, Erving Professor of Chemistry and Mineralogy in Harvard Uni- versity. A newly revised edition. New York: Charles Scribners Sons, 143 and 145 Broadway. 1880. pp. ix. and 331. 1881.] Notices of New Books. 131 A BIBLE STUDY OF HoLINEss.*~The author examines the Bib- lical usage of holiness, holy, sanctify, from Genesis (in which he finds only the verb sanctify, and that but once, Gen. ii., 3) to Revelation. He finds that the word denotes Gods proprietor- ship of certain objects, at first irrespective of moral character. These holy objects stand in special relation to God as his prop- erty . . - . The word Holiness is the inviolable Broad-Arrow of the divine king of Israel. Later the word comes to denote right moral character; but still with the dominant meaning of belong- ing or consecrated to God. Hence while moral character is pro- gressive, holiness as consecration to God is not progressive, but coml)lete from the beginning. A difficulty, which the author does not satisfactorily remove, is the biblical usage predicating holi- ness of God himself. HUIDEKOPER ON THE GENUINENESs OF THE GOsPELs.fThe di- rect evidence of the genuineness of the gospels has often been given. This volume is a study of the history of the first centuries of Christianity to ascertain the indirect evidences of the same. The aulhor finds this evidence in pseudo-heathen and Jewish docu- ments, in the apocryphal writings of the time, in the controversies with Jews and heathens, in Christian customs, and similat- sources of information. An appendix of more than a hundi-ed pages con- tains translations of the Acta Pilati, the Sibylline oracles, the let- ter of Lentulus, the correspondence of Paul and Seneca, and other documents of the same general character, with critical notes on these and other topics. The work is the result of great labor and contains a great a mount of information. The argument from these indirect evidences is presented with much force. SCHAFFS POPULAR COMMENTARY.tThe first volume of this work was noticed in the New Englander of March, 1879. Its * Holiness, as understood by the writers of the Bible: A Bible Study. By JOSEPH AGAR BEET, author of Commentary on Romans. London: Hodder & Stough- ton, 27 Paternoster Row. 1880. pp. 62, stiff paper covers. Price 9d. sterling. ~ Indirect Testim9ny of History to the Genuineness of the Gospels. B~ FRED- ERIO HUIDEKOPER. Second Edition. New York: James Miller. 1880. pp. xvi. and 226. 4 A Popular Goosmentary on the New Testament. By English and American scholars of various evangelical denominations. With illustrations and maps. Edited by PHILIP ScHAFF, D.D., LL.D., Baldwin Professor of Sacred Literature in the Union Theological Seminary, New York. Vol. ii. The Gospel of John and the Acts. New York: Charles Scribners Sons. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. 1880. 8vo., pp. 5V1.

1881.] Notices of New Books. 131 A BIBLE STUDY OF HoLINEss.*~The author examines the Bib- lical usage of holiness, holy, sanctify, from Genesis (in which he finds only the verb sanctify, and that but once, Gen. ii., 3) to Revelation. He finds that the word denotes Gods proprietor- ship of certain objects, at first irrespective of moral character. These holy objects stand in special relation to God as his prop- erty . . - . The word Holiness is the inviolable Broad-Arrow of the divine king of Israel. Later the word comes to denote right moral character; but still with the dominant meaning of belong- ing or consecrated to God. Hence while moral character is pro- gressive, holiness as consecration to God is not progressive, but coml)lete from the beginning. A difficulty, which the author does not satisfactorily remove, is the biblical usage predicating holi- ness of God himself. HUIDEKOPER ON THE GENUINENESs OF THE GOsPELs.fThe di- rect evidence of the genuineness of the gospels has often been given. This volume is a study of the history of the first centuries of Christianity to ascertain the indirect evidences of the same. The aulhor finds this evidence in pseudo-heathen and Jewish docu- ments, in the apocryphal writings of the time, in the controversies with Jews and heathens, in Christian customs, and similat- sources of information. An appendix of more than a hundi-ed pages con- tains translations of the Acta Pilati, the Sibylline oracles, the let- ter of Lentulus, the correspondence of Paul and Seneca, and other documents of the same general character, with critical notes on these and other topics. The work is the result of great labor and contains a great a mount of information. The argument from these indirect evidences is presented with much force. SCHAFFS POPULAR COMMENTARY.tThe first volume of this work was noticed in the New Englander of March, 1879. Its * Holiness, as understood by the writers of the Bible: A Bible Study. By JOSEPH AGAR BEET, author of Commentary on Romans. London: Hodder & Stough- ton, 27 Paternoster Row. 1880. pp. 62, stiff paper covers. Price 9d. sterling. ~ Indirect Testim9ny of History to the Genuineness of the Gospels. B~ FRED- ERIO HUIDEKOPER. Second Edition. New York: James Miller. 1880. pp. xvi. and 226. 4 A Popular Goosmentary on the New Testament. By English and American scholars of various evangelical denominations. With illustrations and maps. Edited by PHILIP ScHAFF, D.D., LL.D., Baldwin Professor of Sacred Literature in the Union Theological Seminary, New York. Vol. ii. The Gospel of John and the Acts. New York: Charles Scribners Sons. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. 1880. 8vo., pp. 5V1.

1881.] Notices of New Books. 131 A BIBLE STUDY OF HoLINEss.*~The author examines the Bib- lical usage of holiness, holy, sanctify, from Genesis (in which he finds only the verb sanctify, and that but once, Gen. ii., 3) to Revelation. He finds that the word denotes Gods proprietor- ship of certain objects, at first irrespective of moral character. These holy objects stand in special relation to God as his prop- erty . . - . The word Holiness is the inviolable Broad-Arrow of the divine king of Israel. Later the word comes to denote right moral character; but still with the dominant meaning of belong- ing or consecrated to God. Hence while moral character is pro- gressive, holiness as consecration to God is not progressive, but coml)lete from the beginning. A difficulty, which the author does not satisfactorily remove, is the biblical usage predicating holi- ness of God himself. HUIDEKOPER ON THE GENUINENESs OF THE GOsPELs.fThe di- rect evidence of the genuineness of the gospels has often been given. This volume is a study of the history of the first centuries of Christianity to ascertain the indirect evidences of the same. The aulhor finds this evidence in pseudo-heathen and Jewish docu- ments, in the apocryphal writings of the time, in the controversies with Jews and heathens, in Christian customs, and similat- sources of information. An appendix of more than a hundi-ed pages con- tains translations of the Acta Pilati, the Sibylline oracles, the let- ter of Lentulus, the correspondence of Paul and Seneca, and other documents of the same general character, with critical notes on these and other topics. The work is the result of great labor and contains a great a mount of information. The argument from these indirect evidences is presented with much force. SCHAFFS POPULAR COMMENTARY.tThe first volume of this work was noticed in the New Englander of March, 1879. Its * Holiness, as understood by the writers of the Bible: A Bible Study. By JOSEPH AGAR BEET, author of Commentary on Romans. London: Hodder & Stough- ton, 27 Paternoster Row. 1880. pp. 62, stiff paper covers. Price 9d. sterling. ~ Indirect Testim9ny of History to the Genuineness of the Gospels. B~ FRED- ERIO HUIDEKOPER. Second Edition. New York: James Miller. 1880. pp. xvi. and 226. 4 A Popular Goosmentary on the New Testament. By English and American scholars of various evangelical denominations. With illustrations and maps. Edited by PHILIP ScHAFF, D.D., LL.D., Baldwin Professor of Sacred Literature in the Union Theological Seminary, New York. Vol. ii. The Gospel of John and the Acts. New York: Charles Scribners Sons. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. 1880. 8vo., pp. 5V1.

1881.] Notices of New Books. 131 A BIBLE STUDY OF HoLINEss.*~The author examines the Bib- lical usage of holiness, holy, sanctify, from Genesis (in which he finds only the verb sanctify, and that but once, Gen. ii., 3) to Revelation. He finds that the word denotes Gods proprietor- ship of certain objects, at first irrespective of moral character. These holy objects stand in special relation to God as his prop- erty . . - . The word Holiness is the inviolable Broad-Arrow of the divine king of Israel. Later the word comes to denote right moral character; but still with the dominant meaning of belong- ing or consecrated to God. Hence while moral character is pro- gressive, holiness as consecration to God is not progressive, but coml)lete from the beginning. A difficulty, which the author does not satisfactorily remove, is the biblical usage predicating holi- ness of God himself. HUIDEKOPER ON THE GENUINENESs OF THE GOsPELs.fThe di- rect evidence of the genuineness of the gospels has often been given. This volume is a study of the history of the first centuries of Christianity to ascertain the indirect evidences of the same. The aulhor finds this evidence in pseudo-heathen and Jewish docu- ments, in the apocryphal writings of the time, in the controversies with Jews and heathens, in Christian customs, and similat- sources of information. An appendix of more than a hundi-ed pages con- tains translations of the Acta Pilati, the Sibylline oracles, the let- ter of Lentulus, the correspondence of Paul and Seneca, and other documents of the same general character, with critical notes on these and other topics. The work is the result of great labor and contains a great a mount of information. The argument from these indirect evidences is presented with much force. SCHAFFS POPULAR COMMENTARY.tThe first volume of this work was noticed in the New Englander of March, 1879. Its * Holiness, as understood by the writers of the Bible: A Bible Study. By JOSEPH AGAR BEET, author of Commentary on Romans. London: Hodder & Stough- ton, 27 Paternoster Row. 1880. pp. 62, stiff paper covers. Price 9d. sterling. ~ Indirect Testim9ny of History to the Genuineness of the Gospels. B~ FRED- ERIO HUIDEKOPER. Second Edition. New York: James Miller. 1880. pp. xvi. and 226. 4 A Popular Goosmentary on the New Testament. By English and American scholars of various evangelical denominations. With illustrations and maps. Edited by PHILIP ScHAFF, D.D., LL.D., Baldwin Professor of Sacred Literature in the Union Theological Seminary, New York. Vol. ii. The Gospel of John and the Acts. New York: Charles Scribners Sons. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. 1880. 8vo., pp. 5V1. 132 Notices of New Books. [Jan., design and plan and general characteristics were set before our readers at that time, and it will, therefore, be only necessary to call to their attention now the fact that the second volume has been published. This volume contains the Commentaries on the Gospel of John and the Acts of the Apostles; the former hy Pro- fessors Milligan and Moulton, and the latter by Dean Howson and Canon Spence. Dean Ilowson is, of course, very widely known in our country, and of his special fitness for writing upon the Acts all are cognizant. Professor Moulton is the translator and editor of Winers Grammar of the New Testament, published in England. He and his associate, Professor Milligan, are mem- bers of the English Committee of Revisers of the Authorized Ver- sion of the Scriptures, and are highly esteemed as scholars in tbis department. The portion of the work of which they have had charge, therefore, commends itself to the public. The English reader, who is not acquainted with the Greek language, will find the results of recent scholarship brought before him in large measure aI)d in a brief and concise form of statement. The numerous pictorial illustrations and the maps will add to the value of the book to many who make use of it. Sabbath school teachers and others who desire to read the New Testament intel- ligently, as well as ministers, for whom all the best helps to the understanding of the sacred writings are oC such peculiar service, will find much in the present volume to repay them for examin- ing it. LANGES COMMENTARY.THE APocRYPnA.*~The American Edition of this extended Commentary, under the editorship of Dr. Schaff, has added a volume to the original German work, and thereby rendered an important service to the Christian public. Whatever view may be held with respect to the propriety or desirableness of printing the Apocryphal Books of the Old Testa- ment with the Canonical books, no one can doubt that they have a special interest to the students of the Bible. - A new and thor- oughly good translation of them, with critical and explanatory notes, has been a want felt by many for a long time. The few, there- fore, who knew that Dr. E. C. Bissell was engaged in the prepara * The A~ ocrypha of the Old Testament. With Historical Introductions, a Re- vised Translation, and Notes Critical and Explanatory. By EDWARD CONE Bis- SELL, D.D. Being volume xv. of the Old Testament portion of Dr. Philip Schaffs Edition of Langes Commentary on the Holy Scriptures. New York: Charles Scribners Sons. 1880.

132 Notices of New Books. [Jan., design and plan and general characteristics were set before our readers at that time, and it will, therefore, be only necessary to call to their attention now the fact that the second volume has been published. This volume contains the Commentaries on the Gospel of John and the Acts of the Apostles; the former hy Pro- fessors Milligan and Moulton, and the latter by Dean Howson and Canon Spence. Dean Ilowson is, of course, very widely known in our country, and of his special fitness for writing upon the Acts all are cognizant. Professor Moulton is the translator and editor of Winers Grammar of the New Testament, published in England. He and his associate, Professor Milligan, are mem- bers of the English Committee of Revisers of the Authorized Ver- sion of the Scriptures, and are highly esteemed as scholars in tbis department. The portion of the work of which they have had charge, therefore, commends itself to the public. The English reader, who is not acquainted with the Greek language, will find the results of recent scholarship brought before him in large measure aI)d in a brief and concise form of statement. The numerous pictorial illustrations and the maps will add to the value of the book to many who make use of it. Sabbath school teachers and others who desire to read the New Testament intel- ligently, as well as ministers, for whom all the best helps to the understanding of the sacred writings are oC such peculiar service, will find much in the present volume to repay them for examin- ing it. LANGES COMMENTARY.THE APocRYPnA.*~The American Edition of this extended Commentary, under the editorship of Dr. Schaff, has added a volume to the original German work, and thereby rendered an important service to the Christian public. Whatever view may be held with respect to the propriety or desirableness of printing the Apocryphal Books of the Old Testa- ment with the Canonical books, no one can doubt that they have a special interest to the students of the Bible. - A new and thor- oughly good translation of them, with critical and explanatory notes, has been a want felt by many for a long time. The few, there- fore, who knew that Dr. E. C. Bissell was engaged in the prepara * The A~ ocrypha of the Old Testament. With Historical Introductions, a Re- vised Translation, and Notes Critical and Explanatory. By EDWARD CONE Bis- SELL, D.D. Being volume xv. of the Old Testament portion of Dr. Philip Schaffs Edition of Langes Commentary on the Holy Scriptures. New York: Charles Scribners Sons. 1880. 1881.1 Notice8 of New Boolee. 133 tion of such a work, were impressed with the value of it and were heartily disposed to encourage him to carry it forward to its com- pletion. It is a matter of much satisfaction that it has now been published in connection with so well-known a Commentary on the entire Scripture~, and under so favorable auspices. Dr. Bissell has been occupied with the preparation of the volume for a num- ber of years past, and has enjoyed many advantages for the car- rying out of his undertaking. The results will be received, as we cannot doubt, with much favor. The volume, which is as large as the other volumes of the American edition of Langes work, contains an extended and general introduction, giving an account of the Jewish history during the Peisian and Grecian periods, and an account of the origin and history of the Apocry- phal Books. This is followed by more special Introductions to the seveial books, together with critical and exegetical notes and a revision of the translation. The exegetical notes are brief, but they are scholarly, and serve to throw light upon the text, and the translation is faithfully revised and improved. That the vol- ume will find maLay readers, who will be grateful to the author for what he has done, cannot be doubted. That it will contribute to promote a greater interest in studying the books which it ex- plains and discusses, is certainly to be hoped. JAPANESE FAIRY WORLD.*~Mr. Griffis is already favorably known as the author of the Mikados Empire, and those inter- ested in Japanese history and progress have learned from it the principal points and events which mark the rapid advance of that people. In this little volume he has given us the cream of a great variety of stories from Japanese wonder-lore; legends that are so familiar to the people that they are embodied in bronze and porcelain, delineated in pictures and tableaux, tattooed on the body, and acted out on the stage. He has worked up thirty- four of them into these readable narratives, illustrated them with twelve native drawings, and thereby introduced them to Ameri- cans, old and young. In preparing them, however, we wish he had carefully separated the native myth from his own explana- tions, for no one can tell just where the first begins and the other ends; even if Mr. Griffis has not taken more liberty with the originals than a Japanese story-teller, if transported from Tokio * Japanese Fairy World. By WILLIAM E. Giurris. Illustrated by OZAwA, of Tokio. Schenectady, N, Y.: James H. Barhyte. 1880. 322 pp.

1881.1 Notice8 of New Boolee. 133 tion of such a work, were impressed with the value of it and were heartily disposed to encourage him to carry it forward to its com- pletion. It is a matter of much satisfaction that it has now been published in connection with so well-known a Commentary on the entire Scripture~, and under so favorable auspices. Dr. Bissell has been occupied with the preparation of the volume for a num- ber of years past, and has enjoyed many advantages for the car- rying out of his undertaking. The results will be received, as we cannot doubt, with much favor. The volume, which is as large as the other volumes of the American edition of Langes work, contains an extended and general introduction, giving an account of the Jewish history during the Peisian and Grecian periods, and an account of the origin and history of the Apocry- phal Books. This is followed by more special Introductions to the seveial books, together with critical and exegetical notes and a revision of the translation. The exegetical notes are brief, but they are scholarly, and serve to throw light upon the text, and the translation is faithfully revised and improved. That the vol- ume will find maLay readers, who will be grateful to the author for what he has done, cannot be doubted. That it will contribute to promote a greater interest in studying the books which it ex- plains and discusses, is certainly to be hoped. JAPANESE FAIRY WORLD.*~Mr. Griffis is already favorably known as the author of the Mikados Empire, and those inter- ested in Japanese history and progress have learned from it the principal points and events which mark the rapid advance of that people. In this little volume he has given us the cream of a great variety of stories from Japanese wonder-lore; legends that are so familiar to the people that they are embodied in bronze and porcelain, delineated in pictures and tableaux, tattooed on the body, and acted out on the stage. He has worked up thirty- four of them into these readable narratives, illustrated them with twelve native drawings, and thereby introduced them to Ameri- cans, old and young. In preparing them, however, we wish he had carefully separated the native myth from his own explana- tions, for no one can tell just where the first begins and the other ends; even if Mr. Griffis has not taken more liberty with the originals than a Japanese story-teller, if transported from Tokio * Japanese Fairy World. By WILLIAM E. Giurris. Illustrated by OZAwA, of Tokio. Schenectady, N, Y.: James H. Barhyte. 1880. 322 pp. 134 Notices of New Books. [Jan., to America, would. But Mr. Griffis is not a modern story-teller of Tokio, and we would rather have the exact folk-lore of the natives to see its peculiar style, as Mr. Mitford has given us in his Tales of Old Japan. The pith of some of these stories is found among other nations, but most of them are indigenous. The first one, The Meeting of the Star Lovers, has undoubtedly come from China, where it is observed on the 7th day of the 7th moon (about the middle of August), the same day as in Japan, by women to get skill in needle-work. The very bright stars Vega and Aquila, are, at that season, soon after sunset, conspicuous objects near the zenith, under the names of the Weaver and Herdboy, they are fabled to cross the Milky Way on a bridge made of magpies, to see each other till the morning compels them to return. The 30th story, called the Fisherman and the Moon Maiden, about a fairy who had her dress of feathers stolen as she was bathing, and therefore could not fly back to heaven, is a mere outline of the charming story of Hassan of Bussorah in the Arabian Nights. We have also met it in the Chinese accounts of Liuchew, where its source i~ probably Japan- ese. The 24th story of Smells and Jingles, where the miser Kisa- buro is said to have paid the cook, whose smoking eels had sat- isfied his appetite, by jingling his money before his face, is found both in Chinese and Arabic folk-lore. rrhese resemblances do not, however, at all prove their common origin, for the wit of man can as easily work out similar stories of this kind, as his wants can be met by the same inventions and tools. In comparing the workings of the Chinese and Japanese mind, the greater fertility of the imagination among the latter people strikes everyone. The droll combinations of animal with human life and acts, as given in the 28th story of the Procession of Lord Long Legs, is only a sample of what runs through their whole language and art, and is perhaps greater than among any other people. We can cordially recommend the book to those who wish to learn this side of their character, for they will get an idea of the meaning of many of the pictures on fans and paper napkins, which have brought Japan so much before our countrymen; and whatever helps each to appreciate the other does good service to both. 1881.] Notioe~ of New Book8. 135 RECENT PUBLICATIONS. C. F Putnams Sons, New York. Art Suggestions from the Masters. Compiled by Susan N. Carter. 260 pp. l2mo. Womanhood. Lectures on Womans Work in the World. By Rev. Heber Newton. 315 pp. l2mo. A Doctors Suggestions to the Community. By Daniel B. St. John Roosa, M.D. 234 pp. All Round the Year. Verses from my Farm. By Elaiue and Dora Reed Goodale. fliustrated. 200 pp. Roberts Brothe.rs, Boston. Memoir of Governor Andrew. By Peleg W. Chandler. l2mo. 298 pp. Fragments of Christian History. To the foundation of the Holy Roman Em- pire. By Joseph Henry Allen. 284 pp. Certain Men of Mark. Studies of Living Celebrities. By George Makepeace Towle 242 pp. Hcughton. Muffin & Co., Boston. The Stillwater Tragedy. By T. B. Aldrich. 324 pp. Wild Roses of Cape Ann, and other poems. By Lucy Larcom. 272 pp. Charles Scribners Sons, New York. The Apocrypha of the Old Testament, with notes critical and explanatory. By Edwin Cone Bissell, D.D. 680 pp. octavo. Common Sense in the Household. A Manual of Practical Housewifery. By Marion Harland. 546 pp. D. Appleton & Co., New York. Progress and Poverty, an inquiry into the cavise of industrial depressions and increase of want, with increase of wealth. The Remedy. By Henry George. 508 pp. The Orthodpist; a pronouncing manual. By Alfred Ayers. 201 pp. The Art of Speech, in two volumes. 1. Studies in Poetry and Prose. 247 pp. From Death into Life: or, Twenty Years of my ministry. By Rev. W. Has- lam. 318 pp. Appletons New Handy Series. French Men of Letters. By Maurice Mauris Marquis Di Caleazano. 263 pp. Phillips and Flunt, New York. Gilbert Haven: A Monograph. By Rev. E. Wentworth, D.D. 42 pp. Anson D. F Rando4ph & Co., New York. Charity, Sweet Charity. By Rose Porter. 242 pp. A Summer at Peace Cottage: or. Talks about Home Life. By S. W. Pratt. 334 pp.

1881.] Notioe~ of New Book8. 135 RECENT PUBLICATIONS. C. F Putnams Sons, New York. Art Suggestions from the Masters. Compiled by Susan N. Carter. 260 pp. l2mo. Womanhood. Lectures on Womans Work in the World. By Rev. Heber Newton. 315 pp. l2mo. A Doctors Suggestions to the Community. By Daniel B. St. John Roosa, M.D. 234 pp. All Round the Year. Verses from my Farm. By Elaiue and Dora Reed Goodale. fliustrated. 200 pp. Roberts Brothe.rs, Boston. Memoir of Governor Andrew. By Peleg W. Chandler. l2mo. 298 pp. Fragments of Christian History. To the foundation of the Holy Roman Em- pire. By Joseph Henry Allen. 284 pp. Certain Men of Mark. Studies of Living Celebrities. By George Makepeace Towle 242 pp. Hcughton. Muffin & Co., Boston. The Stillwater Tragedy. By T. B. Aldrich. 324 pp. Wild Roses of Cape Ann, and other poems. By Lucy Larcom. 272 pp. Charles Scribners Sons, New York. The Apocrypha of the Old Testament, with notes critical and explanatory. By Edwin Cone Bissell, D.D. 680 pp. octavo. Common Sense in the Household. A Manual of Practical Housewifery. By Marion Harland. 546 pp. D. Appleton & Co., New York. Progress and Poverty, an inquiry into the cavise of industrial depressions and increase of want, with increase of wealth. The Remedy. By Henry George. 508 pp. The Orthodpist; a pronouncing manual. By Alfred Ayers. 201 pp. The Art of Speech, in two volumes. 1. Studies in Poetry and Prose. 247 pp. From Death into Life: or, Twenty Years of my ministry. By Rev. W. Has- lam. 318 pp. Appletons New Handy Series. French Men of Letters. By Maurice Mauris Marquis Di Caleazano. 263 pp. Phillips and Flunt, New York. Gilbert Haven: A Monograph. By Rev. E. Wentworth, D.D. 42 pp. Anson D. F Rando4ph & Co., New York. Charity, Sweet Charity. By Rose Porter. 242 pp. A Summer at Peace Cottage: or. Talks about Home Life. By S. W. Pratt. 334 pp. 136 Notices of New Books. Catholic Publication Society Co., New York. By J. L. Spalding, D.D., Bishop of Peoria. 339 pp. Lee and Shepard, Boston. How I found it, North and South, together with Marys Statement. 295 pp. William S. Gottsberger, New York. An Egyptian Princess. By Georg Ebers. From the German, by Eleanor Grove. In two volumes. 368, 322 pp. The Time Will Come. A tale of an Alpine Cloister. By Wilhelmine von lii- lern. From the German, by Clara Bell. 213 pp. Porter and Coates, Philadelphia. The Young Ladys Friend. A new edition. By Mrs. H. 0. Ward. 315 pp. Greek Mythology Systematized. By S. A. Scull. 397 pp. Nero, a Tragedy. By Richard Comfort. For copies apply to Box 1800, Phila- delphia. 94 pp. Robert Carter and Brothers, New York. Voices of Hope and Gladness. By Ray Palmer. 152 pp. l6mo. Memoirs of Joseph W. Pickett. By William Salter. 150 pp. l2mo. Dawn and Sunset; or, Fragments of a Broken Life. By William Thompson Bacon. l2mo. The Illustrated Catalogue of the Paris Salon, containing nearly four hundred reproductions in fac-simile. F. G. Dumas. Christianity and Science. An address by Rev. John P. Gulliver. American Tract Society, 150 Nassau st., New York. Marie Manning and others. By Bittersweet. 95 pp. 1 2mo. Little Soldier. By Rosalie Gray. 240 pp. l2mo. Little Mother. By Madame E~ De Pressensl. Translated by Louise Seymour Houghton. 2T8 pp. Stories for Sunday. By Rev. Theron Brown. 156 pp. Meditations on the Last Days of Christ. By Rev. W. G. Schauffier, D.D. 390 pp. 8vo. The Bible Text Book; or, the principal texts relating to the persons, places, and subjects, occurring in the Holy Scriptures, with maps. 232 pp. 8vo. Henry H. Peck, New Haven. Leaves from the Life of George Beckwith. By his daughter, M. L. Beckwith Ewell. 134 pp. l6mo.

THE NEW ENG~LANDER. No. CLIX. MARCH, 1881. ARTICLE I HISTORICAL AND PERSONAL REMINIS CENCES OF THE SPANISH REVOLUTION. 1808 TO 1868. THE story of the Spanish nation during the present Century, forms a curious chapter in the annals of the mighty political and social upheaval, which has so long been shaking Europe to its centre, preparing new conditions of life and growth. The French Revolution found Spain sleeping her judicial slumber. Napoleons descent into her plains roused once more that people that had given no sign since The Communities of 1520. With him canie a greater than Ferdinand and Philip, than Torquemada and Loyola. Modern aspirations, the poor mans hope, the avenger of history, had scaled at last the flinty Pyrenees, and east their leaven over the land. From Tilsit Napoleon fixed his eyes on the Peninsula not unlike the monster of its arena, as he stands in the midst of the quivering carcasses of his victims, gazing in cruel calm, now at one, now at another, of the chubs and matadores of the ring, till at last his glaring orbs rest on the object of his vengeance, and with a bellow he plunges forward to the attack. So the wily arbiter of the nations, with eyes bent on Aranjuez, VOL. IV. 10 138 like Spanish Revolution. [March, hastened from Tilsit to Bayonne. Thence he observed and fomented the domestic discords of Charles IV, which issued in his forced abdication and the succession of Ferdinand his son. Next, Napoleon contrived to lure both Sovereigns to Bay- onne on the flattering pretext of a proximate visit to Madrid. But it was the story of the spider and the fly; for once safely over the fatal border, the trap was sprung on the unsuspecting victims. During the invasion that followed, to place his brother Joseph on the usurped throne, Napoleon reckoned on the utter demoralization of the national spirit as the effect of three cen- turies of oppression. He counted on disciplined armies and superior administration to subjugate a people that had cost the Romans two hundred years of combats. But he had reckoned without his host. The old character was much battered, but not crushed; the royal house was in captivity, but the nation lived. At the first tramp of foreign battalions, the dry bones stirred, and when Murat fired on Madrid, the Spanish people rose to their feet as one man. There was no telegraph, there were no railways in 1808, but swift couriers bore to the remotest ham- lets the tidings of the Second of May. From the lackof com- munications each province acted alone; none knew till later that all had acted together. The ancient kingdoms of Asturias, Yalencia, and Granada, joined hands against the common foe, as if signalled by the magicians wand. It was the sublimest spectacle modern history records. All Europe looked up from its bondage amazed. It had meekly bowed the neck to Napo- leon, and sought to vindicate its injured vanity by the craven subterfuge of a name. They called him Bonaparte and were comforted. But now the race that had long been a proverb for patient submission to their native despots, on the arrival of a stranger and usurper, valiantly stood forth to resist the torrent of invasion, giving to Europe the example, and to England the field, that were to work out the tyrants overthrow. Spain defended her soil with the energy of despair for six long years. It had not been so much a question of armies and of regular campaigns; it was the guerrilla tactics which in the olden time had often baffled Hasdrubal, Scipio, and Caesar. Men and women, all who could handle a sword, a navaja, or a The Syani8h Revolution. 139 1881.] sickle, made up the repelling host. Wherever a Frenchman was visible, all means were legitimate against him. Napoleons hosts melted away in the fastnesses of the sierras, by ambush, by poison, and by steel. Spain was saved. In the meantime, while Joseph was pursuing a phantom throne, the nation had gathered about a Central Junta, which directed the movements of the patriots and called in the aid of England. This Junta had been formed out of local ones chosen by partial suffrage, and so the rage for politics found no great difficulty in becoming endemic. Out of the fermen- tation that advanced the Central Junta to a Regency, arose the persuasion that a Constitution is the panacea for all the infirm- ities of a traditional monarchy. So a few resolute men like Argilelles, Torrero, and Martinez de la Rosa, availing them- selves of the forced absence of their royal house, and the tur- bulent scenes of the Peninsular war, imposed on the country a system it did not understand. The deputies in their enthusiasm assumed for themselves the sovereignty they at- tributed to the nation, and prematurely and violently reduced the functions of the sovereign to those of a mere executive. In two years they came out with a constitution (1812) which was of itself to regenerate the Spanish people. This first constitution of Spain, usually called that of Cadiz, stated the principle of popular sovereignty in four strong arti- cles. By article II., the nation is declared to be free and independent, and is not, nor can be, the patrimony of any family or person. By article III., the Sovereignty resides essentially in the nation, and therefore to it belongs the exclusive right to establish its fundamental laws. On the other hand, by article XIV., the government is a moderate hereditary monarchy, and (article XV.) the power of making the laws resides in the Cortes with the king. The Cortes were to meet once a year (article CIV.) and to be renewed every two years (article CVIII.). There was only one chamber, which seems to have assumed, while it lasted, the character of a National Assembly. Freedom of the press was declared and feudal privileges abolished. Until the return of the sovereign, the country was to be governed by a Regency consisting of five members under the Presidency of the duke del infantado. 140 The Spani8h Revolution. [March, But paper charts and political nostrums will never regene- rate a nation predisposed and educated to tyranny. National character is not formed in a day, or moulded by a simple decree. Not until true liberty actually reigns in ideas and customs, in modes of thinking and living, will a constitution, recording these results, be of solid advantage. In this country the chart is the expression of a fact; in Snain it is the formula of a hope. In America it is a declaration of universal princi- ples pre~xisting in the convictions of the whole people; in Spain it is the program of a faction, the banner of an aspiring party, to be superseded on the first evolution of power. Here the great doctrines of our National being pervade the remotest ramifications of the body politic; there, representative princi- ples have never as yet scaled the walls of a provincial capital what do I say ?have not even penetrated the bureau of the public notary, nor modified the practical workings of the civil code.* Thus far in the century Spain has had nine constitutions, one for each change of masters. Joseph Bonaparte opened the catalogue with his still-born edition of 1808; the Cortes of Cadiz put out their banner in 1812, which was reproclaimed in 1820 and 1836; the queen-regent Christina granted one and a half in 1834 and 1837, as concessions to bayonets; Isabella inaugurated her reactionary majority by the miserable bill of 1845, and the revolutionary one of 1856 vainly sought to avenge it; Prims Assembly summed up their triumph in the timid program of 1869; the Republicans expressed their aspira- tions by the iconoclastic one of 1873, and Alfonso superseded them all by his edition of 1876. Spain is the Elysium of Con- stitution tinkers and broken vows, which after all simply proves that she is loyal to her lord, as the sage Alfonso insisted six hundred years ago.t * The first jurist of Spain, Sefior Manuel Alonso Martinez, who drew up the Constitution of 1876, and added a few notes to the official edition, says at the opening of them: Spain is the land of Constitutions with the remarkable cir- cumstance that not one of them has succeeded in attaining complete development in the organic laws. He could hardly have said more, and it is not less remark- able that he should have acknowledged so much. Abundant in talent, brave in combat, light of heart, loyal to her lord, courtly in speech, perfect in all that is good. Chronica General, written about A. D. 1260, and first printed at Zamora in 1541, fol., leaf 200 Ver8o of that edition. 1881.] The Spani8h Revolution. 141 But in 1812, the country had just emerged from a despotism of three hundred years. A constitution sounded well and promised much. It popularized high-sounding words and flattered the public vanity. It discoursed haughtily of liberty, of the people, of thc sovereignty of the nation, of rights and of the elevation of the masses. It seemed to them that the king was not of much account after all, and that the deputies were a synod of Messiahs. So, carried away by the enthusiasm of the hour, they shouted, viva la Consigtucion! and resolved to try one. They, therefore, did it up neatly in the vellum of their fathers, involved it in a napkin and laid it carefully away in the drawer with a child-like indefinable sigh that seemed to breathe, now weve got a constitution, vaya, vaya! Nevertheless the primitive code evoked by the Cadiz Assem- bly is the key to the modern annals of Spain. The time had come to proclaim at least the theory of popular sovereignty, and to arrest the exclusiveness of a throne that had covered the Peninsula with shame. Henceforward absolute sovereigns might no longer dispose at will of the nations honor, nor tram- ple in the mire of their own debauchery the nations manhood. The scenes that had passed between Charles, Ferdinand, and Godoy at Aranjuez, or between Maria Louisa and her son in Napoleons presence at Bayonne, could never be repeated under a system that reduced the monarchs privileges and admitted the people to the legislation of their own protection. But what a struggle that act of Cadiz was now to provoke! A struggle not with kings alone, but with people and kings. From the flr~t hour, the standard was set up and maintained by a few far-seeing men who themselves developed as the con- test widened. For, while elsewhere in Europe the origins of democratic institutions rest on principles, in Spain, on the contrary, they are due to a series of impulses from without, subsequently acquiesce(1 in, rather than comprehended, by the body of the nation. Hence from 1814 to 1833, and from that point on through interminable convulsions to 1868, the unequal contest flagged not. Europe saw only the exiles as they came streaming over the Pyrenees, or peopling its maritime borders. Europe heard only the groans of pain, the sobs of wives and children torn from the arms of their husbands and fathers; she 142 The Syani8h Revolution. [March, could not or would not comprehend the life and death issues of liberty. In 1814, Napoleons work in Spain was done, and Ferdinand VIL returned to his throne from Valen~ay. At Madrid he found a Constitution and a few brave patriots trembling beneath an unfurled banner bearing the legend The King and Liberty. The masses were so overjoyed at sight of their OWII sovereign, with his horses and livery and plumes and gold, that they quite forgot their little secret, and began to shout Viva el rey! as in the olden time. Their Cadiz friends strove hard to make them add the word Constitutional to their acclaim, and say: Long live the Gonstitutional king, but the cry was too long for an epigrammatic people, and they observed Ferdinand beckoning with his hand and looking very grave. So they gathered about his traveling coach to hear. Ferdinand VII. knew the Spanish people better than Argiiefles did, better than Martinez and Mu~ioz Torrero. He knew that their traditions had engendered a habit and spirit of exclusive- ness towards all innovation that was unparalleled elsewhere, and that while they had always made herculean efforts to throw off a foreign yoke, they had meekly bowed the neck to the worst forms of domestic tyranny. So he said to them :* These people who made your Constitution dont represent you; they represent themselves. I can represent you as well as one hundred can; you had better have one king than one hundred. They have despoiled me of the sovereignty to appropriate it to themselves on the ground that an absolute king is a despotic king. But I hate and detest despotism, opposed alike to the intelligence and culture of Europe, and in Spain there were never despots, for the institutions of the country and the righteous laws would never have sanctioned it. Furthermore, I declare it to be my royal intention not only not to swear to that Constitution or to recognize it, but also I declare it null and of no effect, with the so-called Cortes, their decrees and acts, from their installation unto this day, as if such acts and decrees had never been passed, or such a body had never existed. So they all willingly gave up their little treasure pinned up in the napkin, to which they never attached much * Spirit of the famous decree of May 4th, 1814. 1881.] The Syan1~8h Revolution. 143 value, and bad only taken out occasionally to show. Then they loosed the horses from the carriage and drew the trium- phant monarch through the Alcal~ gate to his palace, shouting as they eyed askance the importers of revolution: Long live our king; we have no king but Caesar. On his installation in the Madrid alc~zar, Ferdinand began to execute his program. Having abolished the Cortes and the Constitution, he hanged, imprisoned, or exiled the brave men, who by their energy had preserved him his crown through the terrible years of his reclusion and the Peninsular war. Two hundred and fifty thousand Spaniards .had perished in that war for independence, and now the king added fifteen thou- sand sent into exile and six thousand to the scaffold. He consigned the authors of the Chart and the members of the late Assembly to the gallies of Africa, the Canary and Balearic Islands. His restoration was the signal of proscription and chains to the most illustrious men of the land. Moratin, Quintana, and Mel6ndez Yald6s, princes of lyric song; Argue. lies the tribune, Jovellanos the essayist, Martinez de Ia Rosa, the courtly scholar and statesman, Mufioz Torrero, who scat- tered with a breath the ashes of the Inquisition, Nicasio Gal- lego the liberal priest and poetic glory of Spain, Conde the historian of the Arabs, and Toreno the annalist of the six yearsall these joined the great captivity. Ferdinand forgot that the persecution of men is the surest way to effect their apotheosis, and that in better times they would pass from chains to the sublime heights of power. He annulled the laws that had been made during his absence. He banished all who had held office under Joseph or been employed by him, and refused to permit the return of prisoners of war from France, lest they should have become tainted with the liberal heresy. He restored the convents, filled again the land with friars, and recalled the Jesuits who fifty years before had been expelled by his grandfather Charles the Third. He re~3stab- lished the Inquisition dissolved in 1813 by the liberating Cortes, suppressed the journals and erected a censorship of the press so severe as to make his reign forever infamous to let- ters. The people groaned under excessive taxation from which the nobility and clergy were exempt. Pirates from the 144 The Spanish Revolution. [March, Barbary coast pillaged the maritime borders, and home ban- ditti infested the public highways. To crown all, the crops failed, famine and pestilence brooded over the land. And yet the masses shouted Long live the absolute king. Some of his admirers about Seville, better versed in the dialect of Triana and the Macarena than in classic prefixes, cried Viva ci rey disoluto, at which his majesty laughed heartily, for he knew the boys were friends of his, and on occasion would serve him in his philanthropic measures. But the cause was sacred and its spirit irrepressible. In 1820 those maxims of the year 12 again came forth to trouble Ferdinand. Libertys oak had flourished and borne fruit under the very shadows of the palace. This time the conflict was sterner and extended to a broader horizon. With the noise of barricades and the shouts of returning exiles, was blended the sinister voice of the army entoning the hymn of IRiego and the tocsin of the Trdgala.* Ferdinand now met force by force. In his desperation he turned to the stranger and invoked the Holy Alliance. He subjected his country to all the degrading humiliation of an intervention to suppress a roll of parchment. One hundred thousand men under the Duke dAngouR~me passed from the Pyrenees in solid phalanx to Cadiz, traversing the Peninsula. These one hundred thousand Frenchmen replaced the Spanish king on his absolute throne in 1823, and then went their way, having (lone the work of hirelings. Again despotism tore in shreds the hated pact, and sought to eradicate the cancerous virus of liberty by cruelty uncommon even in the pages of barbarous history. Once more the patriots were slaughtered, thrown into dungeons, or sent to the chain- gangs as in 1814. Those who succeeded in escaping into exile, were sentenced to death and a price set upon their heads. Twenty thousand liberals pined in the chilly north far from the genial sky of their native land. The whole country was in mourning. Every town had its gibbet, and the argoila was worn smooth with crushing out liberal breath. All Spains * Beginning: Swallow down the Chart, dog, Take it down, etc. I do not know who wrote it; Riegos hymn was by Evaristo de San Miguel. 1881.] The S2ani8h Revolution~. 145 great names were once more silent in exile. Freedom seemed stifled forever. Still the masses cried Long live the absolute king, for they did not yet understand. At last, in 1833, Ferdinand went down to the grave, an old man in the prime of years. The second period of the contest with traditional despotism closes here. The charter of the. nations hopes, held aloft by brave hands in 1812, and again in 1820, had been trampled under foot in 1814 and again in 1823. But this second time there had been a gain. The monarch had not prevailed to do the trampling alone; reactionary Europe had been called in to help him. Now that helping hand was also paralyzed and the synod of despotism dissolved. The soul of progress had been marching on, and 1830 in France was preparing the way for 1848 in Europe. In Spain the steady glow of twenty-one years had turned the crude ore of the liberal crucible into the beaten gold destined to the coinage of freedom. Libertys signal station bad not been set up; but the corner stone had been laid, though laid on pre. cious soil made sacred by tears and generous blood. The nation was about to pass over to liberalism, and in the fullness of time it would pass to liberty. Some obstacles stood in the way, but they would be successively overcome. Ferdinand left behind him a daughter three years of age and a widow of twenty-seven. Christina became the Regent for Isabella, and the country a prey to rival factions. Added to the prostration in which the late sovereign left the king. dom, came on a war of succession. Ferdinands brother, Carlos or Charles, thought he ought to reign instead of the in. fant Isabella. The Carlist trouble had long been brewing. The court had been surrounded by masked traitors years before the sovereigns death. Bnt his fourth marriage in 1829, dealt a severe blow to the prospects of Carlos. He had been sure of his elevation to the throne, whence he could continue the despotic work so mercilessly carried forward since 1814. So he secretly inaugurated that conflict about the succession, which was only to end ten years later by the arbitration of the sword. According to the Salic law, women could not inherit the crown. Carlos then was the true claimant even after Isa- bella was born (1830.) But the Salic was a foreign law, and 146 The Spanish Revolution. [March, as such the father treated it. As Philip the Fifth introduced it (1713,) so Ferdinand VII. repealed it. Carlos denied to his brother the constituent power he accorded to his ancestor Philip. Then followed that scene over the dying bed of the sovereign. By the efforts of the premier Calomarde, working at the instance of Don Carlos (1832), the king, in a semi- unconscious state, signed the annulment of his own repeal. The queens sister, Carlota, hearing at Cadiz of what had been done, hastened back to La Granja. There she tore in pieces the extorted repeal, and charged the minister with duplicity and treason, pointing the lesson with a blow. White hands cause no affront, madam,* was the self-possessed rejoinder, and Calomarde hurried away to exile. On the death of Ferdinand, we have said that Christina was invested with the supreme power. She first issued a general amnesty, and Spain, easily pleased, was now jubilant. The exiles came home after long years of absence.. The peniten- tiaries of Ceuta, Pefliscola, and Majorca poured forth their wasted victims. The prison gates creaked slowly back on their unused hinges and gaunt spectres issued forth. But though there had been a gain since the bright sky had lighted up their features, they saw not yet the principle secured. The new situation revealed no promise of a return to Constitutional government. The Queen-Regent, finding herself abandoned by the min- ions of despotism who had joined don Carlos, called on Zea Ber- m~idez. He had been one of the liberals of 1812; but now the liberals became conservative in power, as always happens. Zea Berm4dez was neither cold nor hot at a moment when lukewarmness was a crime. The Carlist factions were rising up all over the land, obedient to the call of their chief. The guerrilla bands of Gomez, Maroto, and Cabrera, went raiding and pillaging about the Peninsula. Spain was again Celti- beria, but without a Viridatus. The Madrid government pos- sessed the capital and the public archives: the Carlists pos- sessed the country. A banner was urgent. What should it be? It could not be quite absolute; don Carlos had usurped that. His legend was * l4anca.s no ~nfaman, sei~ora2 1881.] The Span~8h Revolution. 147 God, Country and King, which he read in the Semitic fash- ion reversed. Nor could the banner be frankly liberal. The queen-regent was at her wits end. If even her king-loving people should discover that they were fighting for mere names, over a simple question of family precedence, they might forget to which side they belonged, and finish by exporting to France both claimants. She knew there was little danger now of an intervention. The Holy Alliance had been sanctified and gone to beatification. France had had enough experience in fomenting retrograde ideas, and was busy with the results of her recent change. At last a conservative decision was taken, and Martinez de Ia Rosa, one of the ostracized men of 1814 and 1823, came to the front. A sort of political seda- tive was administered to the nation in 1834, called the Royal Statute, intended to serve as a chart. Thus Christina made her d6but. It was of course a failure. The controlling doctrine of the Statute was that liberty is a royal prerogative. So the public wrote its epitaph ere it was christened: Aqui yace el Estatuto: Naci6 y inuri6 en un minuto. Here lies the Royal Statute; it was born and died in a minute. While this was going on, the civil war was pressing on all sides. The bands of Gomez were within a few miles of the capital. The Statute pleased nobody: not the people, because it was a compromise; not the Queen-Regent, because it was the shadow of a chart. In the still hour of the night, Aug. 13, 1836, the rough soldiery invaded the summer palace of La Granja. Shouts of Viva la Gonstitucion echoed strangely in the airy halls of Philip V. and Charles III. Isabella was not six years old. Her mother came forth in her night clothes and resolutely refused the demands of those hard men of war. The sergeant Garcia insisted; the brave Neapolitan continued obstinate. To the court-yard with the paramour, cried the determined insurgents. Shortly after the death of King Fer- dinand, Christina had been privately married to an adventurer named Mufl6z. The marriage was kept profoundly secret, for by that act she forfeited the Regency for her child. Mufl6z, 148 [The Syani~k Revolution. [March, therefore, was now led out to the patio to die. Not till he was placed against the dead-wall and the order given to make ready, did the woman-sovereign rush forward, crying: Hold, I sign.~ In this way and from this date (1836) the new reign went forward under more hopeful auspices. The monarchy was characterized as parliamentary. The Cristinos were ranged as liberals, and the Carlists absolute. The cry of the one side was Long live the second Isabella and the Constitution, and of the other: Long live don Carlos and the Inquisi- tion ! There was surely now no confusion in the banners, and on the whole an immense advantage, though forced, was achieved. The Constitution of 1812 thus proclaimed for the third time, was not adapted to the country. The epoch of high excita- tion that had given it birth had passed away. So long as Ferdinand denied the principle of a chart, there was no thought of modifying it. The feeling of the liberal portion of the country was well expressed by the spirit, at least, of the Tr~galauntil the Constitution was loyally swallowed ,it was useless to talk of diluting it. But now the Cortes met, for the first time in thirteen years, and a new chart embodying all the essential elements of human progress was promulgated in 1837. Still the guerrilla strife of partisans fed the guerrilla strife of parties. A civil war is always a calamity from the deinorali * Just forty years later, in August. 1816, I saw Cristina at the same place. The traces of beauty still lingered on her features, though her hair was as white as the marble statues about her in the garden, and her head was unsteady with age. She was then in her seventy-first year. She seemed interested in the memories of the spot and stepped slowly but cheerfully about the well-known paths, leaning on the arm of her grandson King Alfonso. But I was going to say, as a charac- teristic trait of the venerable septuagenarian, that the previous nightthe first of her arrivalshe had persisted in sitting up in her arm-chair till after two oclock, refusing to go to bed till her accustomed French mattrass and linen had reached La Granja. When at last the royal luggage van drove into the enclosure with her personal effects that had followed her from Havre to Paris and thenco to Madrid and The Grange, she was appeased. The young courtiers said it was a cosa de mujeres, a womans whim; but the village crones testified the next morn- ing: Grandmother is as headstrong as ever; she always would have her own way; there is no remedy but to submit (la abueta es tan terca como siem~ore; no hay m6s remedjo que dejarle su antojo). 1881.] The Spani8h Revolution. 149 zation it engenders. For a time principles seemed to be lost sight of in the universal scramble for power. There was no room for patriotism where the pati-ia was in dispute. The foreigner looked on with indifference to see Spain devour her own offspring. It was apparently the surest road to an adjust- ment of the Peninsular question. The Carlist war was closed in 1840, and Espartero became the hero of the hour. By the arrangement called the Treaty of Vergara he had outgeneraled don Carlos and conciliated Maroto. But Espartero was a man of advanced ideas. He was one of the very few men in the Peninsula who set the interests of the country above personal ambition. He com- prehended the unhealthy influence of Christina and brought about her retirement from the scene. In September he be- came the Regent in her stead, while she withdrew to France with her conservative camarilla. The camarilla is the lobby of a court. Isabella, now ten years old, was placed under the care and instruction of the good and venerable Argtielles, the same who wrote the Constitution of Cadiz and had spent most of his life in chains. There was now for the first time frank Constitutional government. But it was doomed to short life. Madrid though distant from Paris was not inaccessible. The wires of the Camardla were set in motion. The first shock was felt in 1841 in a conspiracy to abduct the royal children from the palace. The soldiers of Espartero fought against the emissaries of reaction in the very halls of the national alc~izar. The click of the musket and the play of the bayonet echoed on the grand staircases and along the marble colonnade. The ancient salons were carpeted with the slain, and the priceless tapestries besmeared with Spanish gore. Next came the conspiracies of 1842 and the coalition of 43. It was then the heroic Espartero was forced to yield. His party abandoned him, the army joined the enemies of Spain, the people as usual wearied of just government. Espartero, stripped of his honors, of his titles, of all the harvest of his labors for ten years in the sacred service of his country, was banished the land. The coalition led on by the conservatives had triumphed. For the next twenty-five years the government will oscillate 150 Th? Spani8h Revolutwn. [March, between two great names. iRamon Maria Narv~ez, the duke of Yalencia, and Leopoldo ODonnell, duke of TetuTh, fill the situation. Narv~iez was the soul of the reactionary period from 43 to the Revolution of 54; ODonnell, the bone and sinew of the conservative lustrum from 58 to 63. Isabella rarely inclined to. him, however, save when forced by some sinister manifestation of the popular current against his alter- nate. Narv~ez, the double and twisted moderado pure, a retrogradist of the old fibre, will always be welcome at the palace. His policy was what in Spain they grimly call de cuerda tirante, the tight-rope system. So he will do most of the strangling* and the shooting, while her Majesty cultivates the Pope and the Mass, or disports with her friends at the Casa de Campo. Between the three, a large amount of solemn work will be done those closing years of their public life. From 1843 the calendar fills rapidly. The young queens majority was declared ere she was thirteen years old. The Constitution of 1837 required the minimum of fourteen years. But that Constitution was already six years oldit was in its dotage. In Spain a chart is a thing to have, not to keep. A thing to have, because the people will have it; a thing to evade for reasons of State. It was now important for Nar- v~ez that the National Assembly should give place to the young queen. The chart stood in the way; qu$~tese el Pacto, away with the chart. Nothing could be more simple. It is done every day under that talismanic subterfuge of Iberian statesmanship, it is expedient. The following year the lobby was transferred from Paris to Madrid. The mother came back in 44 to plot and intrigue against the peace of her child. To do it the more effectually, she installed herself in a convenient quarter. During Charles the Seconds minority (166780), the then queen-mother plot- ted against Don Juan de Austria, from Toledo. iNow Chris- tina charges on the palace from an eminence close by. Her house stood opposite the British Embassy (in the Calle de Torija) a suggestion of the clever Narvtiez, who a little later will collar Sir Henry Bulwer and show him the road to England. * Hanging was abolished by Queen Christina in 1832, during Ferdinands ill- ness, and replaced by the garrote. 1881.] The Spani8h Revolution~. 151 In 1845 a new Constitution embodied the reactionary policy inaugurated soon after the triumph of the coalition. In its name will be perpetrated all the crimes that are catalogued in tyranny. In 1846 came the disastrous marriages infamously calculated by the Protestant Guizot, England calmly looking on the whilean Orleanist plot, renewed in 68, foiled in 70 by Prim for which he will pay the price, and at last paralyzed forever by the untimely death of the innocent Merc6des. In 1854 liberty made another stand as she had often done before. The conflagration of Vic~ilvaro shook the kingdom to the centre, the throne to its foundations. It was the avenger of the conspiracy of 43, of the reactionary program of 45. It warned Isabel once more against the moderados and of her certain downfall if she continued to favor the sacerdotal party led on by the Nuncio Franchi. Wisely the queen now bethought her of Espartero, the heroic veteran of Vergara and of the war of the Seven Years. He was almost the only bulwark liberty had in her time. ODonnell now made the Revolution and Espartero was in his retreat at Logroiio. Exiled in 43 by the turpitude of the coa- lition, he had lived since his recall in 48 on his farm, far from the arena of State, weary of gazing on the shameful decline that threatened to engulf his country. So now Isabel beckoned to the good man Cincinnatus to come and save her swaying throne. Gallantly, rather than loyally, he left his plough in the fur- row and hastened to New Castile. But too well he knew the temper of the crown, to be lured by the sudden smiles of for- tune. The country was confident when they saw the patriot at the helm. When they heard his well-known voice of honest counsel, they ceased their righteous warfare. He advised the queen to make her peace with ODonnell whom she always hated because he was her friend. As for Espartero he had too great a soul to be mindful of ODonnells antecedents and per- sonal aggrievances at a time when the commonwealth required strong hearts and liberal measures to restore confidence and prosperity. The two veterans joined hands over the Royal conciliation, and the new Liberal Union seemed a pledge of 152 The Spani8h I? evolution. [March, hope. But the foul air of Madrid could not long detain one who had become used to the pure sky of La Rioja and the free hills of Logro~io. So he abandoned the queen to the vegeta- tion that seemed to thrive best at her Court, and in 1856 went home. The withdrawal of Espartero opened the way for ODonnell. Ambition was surfeited at the price of betrayal. He thought to emulate the sacerdotals and to become in his turn a staff to the throne. So he turned on the gains of concession with the bloody weapons of power. The new Constitution of 1856 was banished just as it was proclaimed, and the old one resumed. The queen dissolved the militia, and the minister executed the mandate. Fearful was the carnage that followed and terrible will be the revenge. The militia was composed of truly liberal elements; it was the peoples guarantee, the check to the throne. From this moment, the opposition to Isabella II. took the serious form of an anti-dynastic movement. O~Donnell had played false to the Revolution; the Decree must go forth. They called him Saturn, because he had devoured his own children. The party of action now entoned the swan-song about the palace of treason. rVhey plighted a solemn vow not to rest till the Queen and her house were over the border. This was not the vote of a club, but the open vow of the nation, expressed in the traditional way that despotism engendersthe secret circularone of which found faithful hands to place it on the queens toilette. Henceforward to the end, it will be a g~ierre d outrarice, a war to the knife, till justice be satisfied. ODonnell and Narv~ez will prevail for a season against them; but Nar. v~iez and ODonnell will fall, suddenly fall; then Isabella will remember the circular that followed those terrible days in July. The annals of Spain from 1864 to 1868, made up, as they are, of one uninterrupted series of military insurrections and popular conspiracies, have been fatal to her good name with those who are not careful about causes, and who learn their history from the gossip of the telegraph. The origins of Reform are not always just what we would have them; but it is the Reform we seek. The era of military uprisings and monstrous 188L] f/ike Span~sh I? evoluti(rn. 158 moral indiscipline, marks the career of civil liberty in Spain; and bayonets, though they facilitate decisions, leave ugly scars on the physiognomy of any people. But it must not be for - gotten that the masses had pronounced the fall of the Queen twelve years before it was accomplished; so the tumult was no treason on the part of the nation. Both parties fully compre- hended their position; it was a pitiless duel, not an assassina- tiona duel sanctified by a sacred cause against a persistent source of degradation. We shall now proceed to touch on a few of those events which immediately preceded the boisterous fall of Isabella of Bourbon, of which we were an astonished witness. In 1864, the well known orator Don Emilio Castelar pub- lished a strong article in a Madrid journal satirizing a recent donation. The Queen had given her premier Narv~ez three- fourths of her income for one year, for his eminent services to the dynasty. There was no doubt as to the service, but the cause was not popular. So Castel~r headed his article El Rasgo, the generous deal, and Narv~ez expelled him from his chair of History in the University. The students, joined by the masses, made a demonstration in the Central Plazathe Puerta del Sol. The troops were ordered to fire on the defence. less people. Hundreds, as usual, were killed, and the Queen was compelled by public indignation to dismiss Narv~ez. The alternate ODonnell was called and the incident ended. In January, 1866, Don Juan Prim made his unlucky coup at Aranjuez. ODonnell was on the alert, for both men were veterans in conspiracy. Suspecting that Prim might be med- itatinu another station in the long via cracis of retribution, he b had sent the suburban garrisons traveling about by rail, as they do in Spain when it is convenient to occupy idle elements of danger. So Prim rose with his troops at Aranjuez, but his confederates at Alcahi made no sign. As usual he called it a betrayal and fled over the neighboring border. A few shots early in the dawn against a dead wall in Madrid, a thousand exiles for France, and the dupes of Prim had paid the debt of their temerity. But Prim was no common conspirator. Fiom the frontier of Portugal, he addressed a word to the nation: VOL. IV. 11 154 The Spani8h Revolution. [March, Because I tread foreign soil, is the work thus to end? No, a thousand times no! The external obstacles that keep me at bay for a moment, will soon be removed. The forces of revolution are the same as before, the necessity the same. Even though I should not share its glories, the Revolution will come. But I shall be at my post. Courage, Spaniards, the day of retribution draws nigh. We have opened the campaign for the people, and the people never die. Our foes of themselves can do nothing, their hope lies in our despair. They cannot afford to risk an encounter; a single blow will achieve our triumph. This attempt of Prim in January, was but one of a series that fill up the remaining months. Isabel IT. was encircled by an ever narrowing cordon of fates; by a hedge of bristling steel. The notes of that~ Swan-song of 1856 echoed in the corridors of the Palace; the Dance of Death clattered on the marble floor of her alcove. June 22d, it sounded again; this time close by her mansion, in the barracks she had reared to protect her. San Gil or St. Giles is a large caserne or military depot like those buildings which the third Napoleon set up over Paris. The garrison rose in San Gil on that day, and slaughtered their chiefs in cold blood. The populace, forewarned and fore- armed, poured into the streets and there was rush and roar and barricade. An insurrection in Madrid is a sight to see, but not to be forgotten. At the first note of alarm, there are shrieks and running; the ponderous siege-doors of shop, hotel and caf6 go to with an ominous crash, and the street-exit of private houses is secured by mediawal bolts and bars. No face yen- tures at a balcony unless announced by the protrusion of a gun. The falas (sashes) of the young men are plethoric with petty artillery. They wear their capa in the hot June day, for it covers rags and rifles. The thoroughfares are now deserted save by the enginery of war, and the pacific rumbling of coaches is exchanged for the sinister clatter of batteries. Your Iberian servants have scented the conflict from afar, and thoughtfully replenished the larder with rations for a siege. An affair like this is put down, if put down at all, by occupying the plazas and corners with artillery. Then the cavalry parade the streets and the warfare of small arms begins. The chief trouble will come from the roofs and upper stories of private houses. The insurgents dispose of your balconies and hold them as case- mates against the regulars below. It is useless to resist such 1881.] The Spanish Revolution. 155 forced suspension of rights, or to exercise the glorious privi. lege of protest. Spaniards are an universal people; they are fighting for humanity; for the Jew as well as the Greek. You must pay your scot with the rest and acclaim the popular side. More than eight hundred bodies lay dead in the streets on that day; but the government triumphed. Both Narv6~ez and Serrano fought well, and for the nonce aided the premier. But it was of that kind of support that is soon coined to profit. When order was restored, the country was placed in a state of siege and the work of vengeance began. Above three- score and ten were led to the wall beyond the perimeter of the town and there shot. The most eminent jurists, and states- men, and writers fell under the ban, and thousands followed their comrades to exile. But it was the final blow; at the next one the nation and the world will assist. OiDonnell had again saved the Bourbon monarchy, and as a consequence fell. Isabel, always short-sighted, always acting under the impulse of a personal bias for the moderados, dis- missed him on the 10th of July. She has sent me off, said he, like the meanest of her servants; but I will never again be a minister under that woman. The same day Narv~ez, the cher ami of despotism, was installed in the presidency, and ODonnell took the way to Biarritzto die. At this point, before we enter upon our personal reminis- cences of the revolution of 186875, a rapid review of political parties will not be out of place. Prior to the French Revolution there had been no political parties in Spain since the great Charles crushed the privileges of Castile and executed Padilla (1521.) But from the promul- gation of the French Constitution in 1791, the first dawn of liberal principles began to tinge the Peninsular horizon. The scandalous favoritisni extended to Manuel Godoy by Charles the Fourth, fomented and ripened those principles. It was not, however, until the Bonapartist invasion of 1808, and the sequestration of the Royal House, that the liberal feeling began to assume a definite shape. At the Assembly of Cadiz, in 1810, two great parties were evolved. The one, consisting of men like Diego Mufloz Torrero and Agustin Argilelles, en- couraged by the then boyish, but influential, Martinez de la 156 The *Sfpani8h Revolution. [March, Rosa, represented the liberal or parliamentary party. The rest, embracing the high clergy, nobility, and fanatical laity, struggled for the maintenance of the traditional despotism. These were called by themselves Loyalists, but by their opponents Serviles. The latter retorted by calling the liberals negros or blacks. In the Castiles, the Spanish partisans of king Josephthat is, the office holders in his pay were named afrancesados, Frenchies. The people called him Joe Bottles, and them Joe Butlers. After the restoration, from 1814 to 1833, (always excepting the happy triennium of iRiego and the Constitution, 182023,) the loyalists became absolutists, as they always had been, and the liberals were either locked up at home or engaged in teaching Castilian abroad. After Ferdinand had retired to his niche in the Escorial, the Spains became liberal by law, through the grace imparted by Don Carlos and the Royal Statute. It was then the loyalists, that is the servdes of 1810, withdrew to the mountains of Biscay and Navarre, leaving the liberals in possession of the Madrid government. By the jostling of ideas, these now became divided into the moderados or conservatives, and the progresistas, or advanced party. Both professed to be liberals, but the quick eye of power soon discovered in the first their old friends the absolutists, and in the men of pro- gress their traditional foes. The Carlists, who had absorbed the ultra monarchical party, regarded all at Madrid as Cristinos, and consequently blacks. But it was not till General Espartero supplanted Fernandez de C6rdova in May, 1836, as General in chief of the liberal forces, that the progresista party was fully organized with Espartero at its head. Hence the revolution of La Granja in August, which placed the pro- gresistas in power and gave Spain the admirable Constitution of 37. But in 1843 began the shameful contest between the two creeds, which resulted in the unnatural coalition that overthrew the regency of Espartero. Thenceforward, while the conser- vatives consistently maintained their unbroken union, the pro- gresistas split into fragments, nuances and personal doctrinari- ans, so that their foes, though vastly inferior in numbers, held the reins of powe.r with the aid of court intrigues and the favor- ites of the young queen, like Serrano and others of the Mar- fori school. 1881.] The Spanich Revolution. 157 Under the influence of the revolution of 185456, the con- servative fraction of the progresistas joined the exalted fraction of the moderados, thus forming a new compromise party, the Union Liberal. Serrano belonged to it; O~Donnell was the sachem of it, and Espartero strove in the interest of the crown to codperate with it. The result was the parallel existence of three parties, and the consequent embarrass- ment to government. Added to this, two side parties had been evolved from the agitations of Europe and the revo- lution of 1854 the IDemocratic and Republican, each of which was strong enough to invite conciliation. So at the period of which we speak, the liberal union under Serrano, the progresistas under Primwho had thrust himself in the room of Espartero, now apotheosized into the National character the democrats under iRivero, and the republicans under Figueras, all united against the moderado or traditional court party then represented by Narv~ez alone. One bright afternoon in the autumn of 1867, I first saw Isa- bella in the presence of her people. I was standing on the edge of the grand square of the town. A picturesque throng of strangely dressed humanity was slowly moving along in the direction of the gossiping Prado. Of the women, some had black veils on their heads, some silk kerchiefsnone wore the bonnet of Europe. The men walked mincingly on beside their women, their arms hidden beneath the folds of the graceful capa. I thought how little IRomanic they seemed who had suffered six centuries of Rome. Their gait, the wary eye, the solemn, eager manner, savored more of Judea than of Latium. The political captivity in which they then groaned, added a still deeper shade to their traditional gloom. Since those ter- rible days in June of the previous year, there was nothing more to be done but to watch and wait. The walls of the pub- lic buildings were riddled and scarred by the missiles of recent combat. The point of most desperate resistance, the course of attack and defense, could be read on the walls and traced froni St. Giles to Atocha, the opposite extremes of the city. 158 like 8pan~t8h Revolution. [March, ODonnell had but just died in France as we crossed the frontier. When it was told Isabella, she coldly remarked: Well, he said in July he would never serve that woman again; he has kept his word. While we stood gazing and thinking on the Puerta del Sol, a company of cavalry rode in from the further end of the square, by the street that leads to the Palace. Then an open landau drawn by six sleek and well-sheared mules, advanced toward the spot where we stood. Mounted officers in showy uniform rode after and on either side of the carriage. In it were Isabella and the King-consort on their way to the sub- urban church of Atocha. The royal pair sat with faces partly averted, and that of the queen was the picture of hate and revenge. Not a soul of all the large company gathered on the great forum uncovered or uncloaked as she passed. Each one gazed steadily upon her in the provoking attitude of contempt. Ours were the only friendly manifestations, and they were justly interpreted as the neutrality of strangers. We were again in Madrid at the opening of the historic year 1868. The month of January began with a public renewal of reaction. Her majesty had resolved to support the temporal power of iRome against the encroachments of Italy and the contingencies of the hour. As an illustration of the mediawal sort of eloquence indulged in by Congress, we will give an ex- tract from the session of January 3d. The question was on the reply to the usual crown-message. A man with a fox.like countenance arose and said I wish to state that we shall transmit to the throne of our august sovereign, the expression of our profoundest satisfaction at the magnificent words by which she has exalted the sublime position she occupies; by which she reminds Europe that she is proud to wear the glorious epithet of Catholic queen; by which she reminds Spain and the universe entire, that she is seated on the throne of St. Ferdinand, of the First Isabel, and of the great Philip, that right arm of Chris- tianity. This effort of the respectable Academician Don Candido Noced~il, drew from the members present fervent cries of Hear! Hear! Poor Spain! she will never get over those one hundred years of prosperity she had from 1492 to 1598, the period when her chains wet-c forged. She seldom men- tions the foreigner Charles, who was not much of a fanatic and 1881.] The Spani8h Revoluti on. 159 lived a good deal abroad; but the great Isabella, who set up the Inquisition, and the blessed Philip who stirred the fire, have placed her on the pinnacle of glory, in her own eyes. So she poured her gold into Rome, and raised up Loyola against Lu- ther, while the Holy Father called France the Most Christ- ian, Portugal Right Faithful, Austria Apostolic, and Spain only Catholic.* Occasionally, it is true, he tossed her a Golden Rose over the Tuscan sea, as a premium on her virtues; but that cost him little, though it comforted his daugh- ter greatly. We have said that ODonnell died at Biarritz the previous November. In April an event occurred that gave a new im- pulse to Spanish politics, and startled the Palace more than it did the nation. Narv~ez, the Boanerges of the retrograde party, was no more! The name that was to accompany the name of Isabella down to posterity; the arm on which mother and daughter had leaned for a quarter of a century, had sud- denly been withdrawn from among the living. The Cortes met and delivered their Jeremiad over the remains of their fallen chieftain. In amount it was a sarcasm and a challenge; in fact, it was a confession of defeat. We shall retire from his casket, said one, impressed with this single patriotic idea, that if the school of anarchy and tumult is anxious to show its hand once more, in the conviction that, because there is no longer an OiDonnell or a Narv~ez, the breach lies open and triumph secure, we shall be found stand. ing shoulder to shoulder under the banner of order, liberty, and the throne. All through the speeches of that day, the veteran premier was represented as the type of moderation and the staunch pro. tagonist of progress. He had even been heard to say a few days before, that order had become so deeply inracinated, and its enemies been taught such severe lessons, he was intend. ing ere long to abandon the repressive policy, and allow some slack to the tight rope. Yes, cried Castelar from his exile at Brussels, for ye cannot long pull on a rotten cord. The climax was reached by another speaker, who remarked that * This title was given to Ferdinand and Isabella by Alexander VI. in 1491, for having expelled the Jews five years before. 160 The Spani8h Revolution. [March, everybody knew Narv~ez was a liberal man, and no one could deny it. There was no one present to deny it, for the truly liberal parties had long since abstained from the national counsels. * The supports on which Isabel IL had rested for so many years, had vanished from her grasp in five short months, and sunk into the mould of the tomb. The political situation demanded Generals; not the routine parasites of a Court. As her friends had been growing into age, her foes had been ripen- ing into manhood. The surviving military men were not on the side of the crown. Prim was now in London; Topete at Cadiz; Serrano in Madrid, abiding his time. All was calm on the surface; but it was the sinister calm of foreboding. Gonzalez Bravo was fixed on to succeed the Duke of Valen. ciaa politician after all, of the school of the stalwart mode. rado. Pretorian elements of that guild were evidently ex- hausted; new names were being reserved for new occasions. It was a fitting choice, however; for it was both natural and convenient that the first conservative prime minister of the Queens majority in 1843, should now come forward to witness the work of his party, and attend the victim to exile. So Isa- bel, bred in despotism and intrigue, knew not how to enter on a period of righteous govern rnent, or she knew it was too late. She had pledged her crown to sustain the Holy Father against the cry of her people, and she resolved to stand by her tradi- tional policy. Having chosen this ground before Narv~ezs death, she refused to yield a tittle to the new situation. In the meantime a spirit of conciliation pervaded all parties outside the immediate entourage of the Palace. Union in Spain always means something serious to somebody. It is a kind of Pilate and Herod movement that bodes treason and a victim. Long alienated interests and men now came forward and shook hands over a common purpose. I shall not venture to determine the limits of civic duty. The fact remained. They had quietly come to an agreement, and all minor consid * It was currently reported at the time in Madrid, that when the illustrious statesman was in articulo mortis, the officiating ecclesiastic anxiously inquired if he cherished aught against any one; it in fine, he had forgiven his enemies. Enemies ! faintly whispered the expiring Spaniard, 1 have no enemies; I shot them all. 1881.] The Spani~,8h Revolution. 161 erations were whelmed in the one great resolve to reclaim the land from the scandals of despotism. Some detached nimbi were floating loosely in the atmosphere; else all was hushed in the listlessness of an almost canicular sun. Suddenly, on the 7th of July, a detonation fell on the sum- mer air, and a strong arm intervened. All the leading gene- rals of the confederated parties were arrested at break of day, over Spain, and thrown into prison. At the same time the duke and duchess de Montpensier were invited to proceed at once to Lisbon. The prisoners, among whom were Serrano, Caballero de Rodas, C6rdova and Dulce, were soon hurried off to Cadiz, and thence to the Canary Islands, or to other remote fortresses of the realm. The Montpensiers were slow to leave their pleasant palace of St. Elmo and the cool shades of their gardens by the Guadal- quivir, within sight of the Alc~zar, the Cathedral, and the graceful Giralda. But the order was peremptory, and on the 16th they were transported to Lisbon on a ship of war. This vigorous action was not inopportune. The conspiracy brought to nought by the cabinet, five days afterthe departure of the Court for the country, involved a serious program. It was no less an affair than the abduction of the Royal Family by night, and the proclamation of Montpensier as King. This scheme had only the Union Liberal with itmen like Serrano and Topeteand it is probable thaf the authorities obtained the clue to the project from disaffected progresistas. Thus the new government was inaugurated. At the moment the preparations were complete and the tocsin about to sound, the hand that was to be smitten smites, and all is adjourned. July third the Court had left Madrid as usual for the season. First they repaired to La Granja, officially called San Ildefonso. This is a crown domain with palace and park and fountains, some forty miles northwest of the capital. It was established by Philip the Fifth, the first Bourbon King (170046), to replace his accustomed Versailles. Frenchmen still call it le petit Versailles. In August, Isabella left La Granja, with her ministers and suite, and passed over the mountain to the Esco- rial. Flitting messengers of evil seemed to be brooding over this retreat, and the manes of her fathers lurking in the dismal 162 The Spanl18h Revolution. [March, halls. Was it wise to leave Castile at such a time? Perhaps she might never again be suffered to gaze across that dreary waste, on whose horizon rose the domes and battlements of the weary capital. Perhaps she would never again behold that familiar sierra on whose thither slopes reposed the pretty Grange, with Segovia and the Roman acqueduct in the distant panorama. The Escorial was a fitting place for meditation now. Palace, cloister, and cathedral, an appropriate symbol of the throne and altar, that mechanism under which the western world was crushed. In that grim sepulchre of freedom, born of a pagan vow, lived and died the sombre Philip. In it he voiced the spirit of his time, which was his own spirit, and thence it went forth brooding over Smithfield, and the dunes of Holland, stopping, ere it came back to him, to smile on Charles bloody work on the banks of the crimson Seine. There is the little alcove where Philip died. Still may the stranger look thro that same wicket in the wall, no larger than his palm, whence he adored the sacred emblem over the high altar below. Here he lay abandoned of his servants, till devoured of his own decay. Then there is the silent chamber in whose ghostly niches rest the ashes of Spains great dead. Here lie side by side the father and son who filled the Six. teenth century with that peculiar kind of glory so much admired at the safe distance of history. Here those three remaining scions of the Austrian house, the last least, as the first was greatest. Then that other line, the symbol of the nations fall, down to Ferdinand, with two waiting caskets on the matrons~ side. Escorial! Heaps of & oriaenot alone entitled from the refuse of forgotten wealth; in thy Pantheon sleeps the dross of tyranny! From this point the royal company moved quickly forward to the Cantabrian coast. In this same month of August, a similar scene was taking place in the Imperial Court of France. As Isabella traveled northward to her frontiers, so Napoleon III. traveled southward to his. From Biarritz and San Sebas- tian the two sovereigns could sit in their doors and survey each others dominions. There was to be an alliance and a banquet. Intent on her 1881.] The Span~~8h Revolution. 1433 policy renewed at the opening of the year, Isabella was to agree to send to iRome 30,000 Spanish troops, so that Napoleon might recall his army of occupation at the opportune mo- ment. The opportune moment was to attack Germany and Protestant supremacy. For this purpose the Emperor, Empress, and Prince Imperial were to accept a banquet at San Sebastian, in the province of Guipiizcoa, on the eighteenth day of September. The energetic action of the government in July was received over Spain with a smile of derision. For the first time the country perceived that ODonnell and Narwiez were dead, and the queen bereft indeed. By the moderation of Gonzalez Bravo, the plans of the confederates had only been disturbed, not foiled. New ones had been concerted on the way to exile, under the very eyes and in the very ears of their captors. The principals in the movement were now widely scattered. Serrano and other leading generals were on the Islands of Teneriffe and the Grand Canary, four days sail from the Penin- sula. Prim was in London, Topete in Cadiz, Malcampo on the Bay of Biscay attending the Queen with the fleet. The first step of all was to gather in the Bay of Cadiz. On the 6th and 8th of September respectively, two swift steamers sailed, the one from Gravesend, England, and the other from Cadiz, bound for the group of Islands lying off the west coast of Africa. Both had regular clearance as trading vessels. On board the one was the brisk old General Milans del Bosch, and on the other, Lopez de Ayala, the speaker of the Spanish Assembly to.day.* Again, on the evening of the 10th, a traveling carriage, emblazoned with a ducal coronet, might have been seen dash- ing down the Strand of London, and turning at the Somerset House, cross the Waterloo bridge, whence it plunged into the South-Western railway station. A valet descended from the box, opened the door of the carriage, and guided his master and mistress to the waiting train. He was a short, wiry man of medium build, about fifty-three or four years of age. He was dressed in the full livery of an English servant, and though there was a foreign savor about his manner, he seemed at home in his r6le. He accommodated himself in a second-class coach, * Both Milans and Ayala have died since this was written. 164 The Spani8h I? evolutiom. [March, as became his caste, and the door was closed and locked by the guard. It was the last Indian mail, and the train flew over the fields and bridges of pleasant England. to the town of South- ampton. It was the same at which Philip the Second, had landed in 1554 when he came to marry Mary. But now our travelers, arrived at the dock, soon disappeared from the deck of a large Peninsular and Oriental steamer about to cast off for Bombay. The names of the noble master and mistress need not be exposed; but the valet was Don Juan Prim, Count of Reus and Marquis of Los Castillejos. The party were booked for Gibraltar. The next morning an official looking gentleman called at the residence of Prim in London. Can I see the General ? said he to the servant. You can, sir; be so good as to step into the library. Presently the servant returned with the message that his master had gone out to the club to read the foreign journals. Satisfied, the emissary took his leave. That same day a cipher telegram was despatched to the Spanish Gov- ernment couched in these words: Prim is here. The three swift winged messengers were on their way. Two, with their singular freight, were battling with the billows of the ocean, and one was skirting the sunny Andalusian shore between the white Chiclana and the foreland of Trafalgar. The Delta arrived at Gibraltar on the evening of the 16th. Three men rowed to the shore and concealed themselves in a coal barge. They were Prim, Sagasta, and Ruiz Zorrilla. In twenty-two days they will be the Government of Spain. A fourth man (Angiilo) appeared on the barge and receive(l his instructions. The next morning he presented himself at the office of a well known shipper and desired to charter a small steamer. What is the service ? demanded Mr. B. Secret service. I cannot accommodate you without farther explan. ations. Well, then, I am authorized to say that General Prim is here, and to-morrow the squadron will rise at Cadiz. Not a steamer only, but my person and my fortune are at your disposal, responded the delighted son of the IRock. The evening of the 17th of September, 1868, was dark and threatening on the southern coast of Spain. The city of Cadiz is built on the expansion of a narrow causeway, running six 1881.] like Spafl~8h 1?evoluz~ion,. 165 miles out into the sea. On this point of Europe is spread a population of 70,000 souls. The land extremity of the chaus- s6e fans out into what is the proper Island of Leon, named from the famous Ponce de Leon. Then comes a frith, and beyond, the main land. Before you lies the broad haven, formed by this mighty mole of nature, and the curving coast- line. Opposite, the towns of Rota, the classic St. Marys of the Port, and the Island City, are dimly outlined in the fading landscape. The sun had now slipped beneath the troubled clouds into the bosom of the Atlantic, casting back fitful glories against the towers and belvideres of the ancient city. The castle had fired the signal gun, and the echo of answering shots had slowly died away. Flag after flag had settled from the bas- tions, the forts, and the shipping in the harbor. The public promenades run along the broad sea-wall, and at even-tide the traditional beauty and chivalry of Cadiz are there in pictur- esque type and costume. Here and there in the gloaming rise the shapeless hulks of monster war-ships. They have just arrived from the Biscay shore. From the side of one of them a bronze-hued light still throws a dim hue over the rising vapor of the funnel. The squadron is here. The admiral is at his post, and seems to be anxiously waiting. The expected guests are nearing. There is a strange admixture of heroism and treason abroad in the night air. Heroism and honor and popular acclaim, if all succeed; treason and obloquy and death, if all fail. Swiftly the day had faded and the beacon on SebastiAn an- swered to the beacon at Rota, and they flashed their welcome rays far out on the surging sea. On a sudden four colored rockets shot across the sky in the offing and burst into a thousand stars. It was the precon- certed signal; Topete and Malcampo saw it from the pilot- house of the Zaragoza. Then there was a light at the lad- der, and the measured music of the oarsmen blended with the moaning of the waves. A solitary steam-whistle was heard and the echo of a chain. Presently a steam launch brooded along like a shadow out into the unseen beyond. An in- bound vessel rounded to and hailed the launch. Which is 166 The Spanish Revolution. [March, the Zaragoza ? cried a voice. Follow us. Who are you ? The commander of the Zaragoza; who are you ? We are alifriends I Arrived on board the flag-ship, Prim and admiral Topete held a long conference. The latter was pledged to the Duke de Montpensier, as the Liberal Union candidate to the throne. The motto of Prim was that of the Progresistas the Nation shall decide. Topete anxious to gain over the general, bad sent a steamer for him to England, together with a large sum of money from Montpensier. Prim had returned both unused. Hence the long struggle between the unionist and progresista, which only ceased two years after, when Topete, standing at the dying couch of his opponent, saw the Revolution and the honor of his country wounded and bleeding. Now, how. ever, the first step was to achieve what all were united in de- siringthe ejection of the Queen of Spain. In this there was no division. Early the next morning; the 18th of September, a dozen ships of war were drawn up in line of battle in the inner Bay. At a signal from the Zaragoza the air seemed filled with gay bunting of every hue, which suddenly shrouded the frigates, alow and aloft, as with butterfly clouds. The yards and rig. ging were peopled as by magic with marines. The decks sparkled with the instruments of music, and flashed with gor- geous uniforms. From the flanks protruded grim messengers of death in long dark parallels. At last a half dozen signal- flags fluttered at the spanker-peak of the admiral-ship. The screws revolved; the procession moved. Past Puntales and the historic Trocadero, the squadron curved in front of the astonished city. Then arose the thunder of revolt; eight thous.. and voices, blended with the crash of ordnance, pealed forth the cry of freedom and the chorus of the national anthem. The population, wild with enthusiasm, poured forth from the narrow streets and thronged the sea-wall. The fiat roofs of the white houses were swarming with agitated life. The proc- lamations of Topete and Prim were being read aloud to ex- cited groups, and the placards of the Governor denouncing the treason were repeated with the sarcasms of savage triumph. Bands of young men paraded the principal thoroughfares sing- 1881j [Eke Spanish Revoluticm. 167 ing the Hymn of IRiego and the forbidden ballads of Fernan- dos time. Meanwhile the stirring words of Prim were producing their effect on the garrison: To arms, citizens, to arms! Enough of patient waiting. The crisis of humil- iation has been reached, the hour for Revolution has come! Let the war-cry be the only cry of all good Spaniards to-day. Let every liberal forget his discords and lay the strife of parties on his countrys altar! Throughout the wide family of freedom, let there be but one ambition, war; one aim, victory; one banner, the regeneration of our country. Spaniards, soldiers, countrymen, the patria needs your help! Forget not the cries of your fathers, your sons, your brothers. To arms with the weapons you have; wait not to look for better, for all are good when borne for our countrys honor. And so let us regain our trampled liberties. Let us recover the traditional pride of our ancient character. Let us once more excite the admiration of the world, and prove ourselves to be worthy sons of noble Spain! Spaniards, liberty for ever! The sovereignty of the nation forever.* These and such words, added to other arguments that appealed to the public consciousness, produced the desired effect. The shouts of the army in revolt burst on the air amidst the wildest enthusiasm of the population. The news of the uprising of Cadiz and the return of Serrano and Prim, flew over the land. The entire province of Anda- lusia adhered to the movement on the 19th and 20th. Gen- eral Serrano, who in the meantime had arrived, took immediate steps to organize an army and march toward Madrid. Juntas or local committees were formed in the revolted districts, and men and money were not wanting. Prim sailed away with the fleet to support the uprising along the Mediterranean coast; while confederates were moving in Galicia and the North. By the 26th of September, the new army of liberation had advanced to beyond C6rdova, at a place called the Bridge of Alcoh~a. There the forces of the Government awaited them for the decisive combat. We left Queen Isabella in August on the Caratabrian coast, preparing for the Imperial visit. The Court had returned from Lequ6itio to San SehastiLin on the 16th of September. * For copies of the original Proclamations of Topete, Prim, and the Generals issued that day and the following, I am indebted to our most obliging and efficient Consul at Cadiz, Colonel Duffi6, from whom also on my last visit there in 1877, in the Spanish fleet with the King, as the correspondent of the London Times, I re- ceived many important favors. 168 The Spanish Revolution. [March, On the morning of the 18th, the Emperor of France with his family and suite, set out by train from Biarritz for the Spanish frontier. They had passed St. Jean de Lux and reached Hen- daye, the final station. The boundary river, Bidas6a, lay at a biscuits toss. On the left the abrupt slopes of the Pyrenees, whose tops were lost in clouds; to the right the serrated line of the Biscay coast stretched far away toward the West. In front was the border station of Irun, and across a frith the pictur- esque old town of Fuenterrabfa. In this interesting corner of France, the people speak four languages. Children of Iberian autochthons and Aquitanian settlers, their home speech is Basque and B6arnais; with the stranger they use Spanish and French. The train was beginning to move forward to the Inter- national Bridge. rphe French guard at the northern end, the Spanish guard at the southern, were each lifting their weapons to present. In the station of Jrun, the bright uniforms of Royal courtiers could be seen turned toward France. Some- thing has happened? The train slows, and at last comes to a full stop. A telegram is brought by an officer. The Em. peror reads. The squadron revolted at Cadizl Prim and Serrano there with the exiles of July! This was worse than Mexico, even to the man of Strassburg, of Boulogne, and of 1851. The interview would not take place. It was no time to make an alliance with a crumbling throne. The Holy Father would have to look elsewhere for support; Spanish troops would henceforth be at the orders of the nation. So the chef was summoned; the engine reversed, and the convoy retraced its route to Biarritz.* The Emperor was * As this is an obscure and much disputed point in history and may be more so, I desire to leave the exact record. The Paris Patrie of the 19th, dated one day in advance as usual in France, said: To.day Lthe ~8th] the Emperor, accompanied by the Empress and Prince Imperial, will visit their Catholic Majes- ties in San Sebastian. Their Spanish Majesties are at the palace of the Infante D. Sebastian. A committee of the grandeza proceeded to the frontier to receive their Imperial Majesties. The France of the same date knows still more: We learn that the Emperor has gone (est al/i) to-day to San Sebastian to visit the Queen but just returned from Lequeitio. The Constitutionnel quoted La France without comment next day. The Journal des Dibats had no doubt that the con- ference took place on the 18th. Not till the evening of the 20th did the Minister of the Interior transmit an official communiqui to the press admonishing it that 188L] f/ike Spani8h ]?evolut~on. 169 pale, they said; it was but the opening of the first act in the drama entitled & dan. The movement of Cadiz became known at San Sebastian on the afternoon of the same day. The inhabitants took in the flags and decorations with which the presence of a transient court is feted in the provinces. The union of the two great liberal parties as represented in Serrano and Prim, was too significant not to augur triumph from the start. Besides it was patent to all that the monarchy was in a deplorable state of abandonment. The most distin- guished statesmen, ambassadors and generals, had thrown up their commissions and retired to voluntary exile. The leading Provincial governors were absent on leave from their respective charges. Most of the cabinet officers, foreseeing the end, had accompanied the court. The Minister of Public Works had gone to Aragon to inaugurate an industrial exhibition. The department bureaus in Madrid were in the hands of subordin- ates. Gonzalez Bravo had resigned twice since they bad left the capital: once in July at La Granja, and again at the Escorial in August. Worried with the rumors of seditious measures in preparation, and incapable of averting them, he wrote in despair to a friend: This petty police warfare is killing me. I am tired of squibs; let big shot come, and I shall know where to strike. He wanted big shot. Topete had furnished them. On the first vibration of the fatal wires, Isabella knew her doom was sealed. The cloud that had hung over the throne vanished and disclosed vacuity. Smarting under the wounds of ingrates; writhing under the silent contempt of the par- venu of Biarritz ; anticipating the sentence of a merciless world, and dreading its cruel decrees more than those of a mer- ciful God, she summoned her expiring cabinet. The session was a stormy one; it lasted all that night, until the dawn of the 19th. No one may report in our day all the ravings and the interview had not taken place (na paA eu lieu)! My information is from a distinguished eye-witness of the movements of the train. Castelar says in his usual equivocal but eloquent way, When the interview was just in the act of being solemnized. not without great repugnance on the part of the Tuileries, the bomb burst at the feet of the banquet table prepared to do honor to the Imperial family of France.Miwimiento Republicano en Europa, Mad., 18PI, p. 632. VOL. IV. 12 170 The ~pani8h Revolution. IlMarch, recriminations that passed in that council. No one that walks these lower grades of civil life, can comprehend the rage of the wretched woman as she saw the attitude of men like those who now sought her overthrow. Every charge that confers honor; every title that bestows distinction among men, were the gift of the ill-starred queen, and she was overwhelmed at the bare conception of such faithlessness. She declared that the world would rather listen to the specious vaporings of scandal than to the Christian suggestions of a common humanity. That men will never rise higher than Olympus in their theology, whence their Jupiter still descends with inflated cheeks to avenge the petty spites of mortal frailty. That as for the Spanish people they were easily goaded to enthusiasm in any cause by the magnificent rhetoric of Castile. In her youth she had heard the shouts for Isabella and the Con- stitution alternate with cries for Don Carlos and the Inquisition. Her nation was superstitious and despotic to the core, whatever the code or government might be. Toleration of the letter, neutralized by the fanaticism of the spirit. Social ostracism for convictions of conscience. Deep - seated, unfathomable national sentiment against the superficial crudities of written law. That all varieties of fraud and falsehood were committed in the name of liberty. Conspiracy would be sanctified by the adroit recapitulations of history and the enameled disavowals of ambition. But history is an universal arsenal which fur- nishes weapons for every banner. That the cry of Cadiz in 1868, like the cry of Quiroga in 1820, like the cry of Argilelles in 1810, was but the scream of a faction; not the majestic pro- test of the nation. Thus Isabel II. raved and wept before her astonished cabinet. She had forgoLten the divorce from the crown pro- nounced by her people in 56, and renewed in the last three years. So, blinded by ambition, she cast away the lessons of her father, confounding patrial duty with treason. The rest must be soon told. The ministers resigned and Manuel Concha became dictator of the realm. He divided the land, as the augurs of old did the sky, into four zones, over e~tch of which loyal men were set. He put the country under the law of the sword and hastened to the swaying capital. 1881.] f/ike Spani8k Revolution. 171 On the 29th it was all over. The field of Alco]6a on the banks of the Guadaiquivir, had been the valley of decision to the sovereign. Her best friends had done for her all that duty and honor could demand. Their mission was discharged with her reign. Fifteen hundred had poured out their precious life in either cause. Her General had been loyal to his trust, and sealed his valor with his blood. That 29th of September, 1868, the date of the Spanish Revolution, was a bitter one to Isabella. It was a two-fold anniversary. Thirty-five years before, on that same day, her father, Ferdinand VII., had breathed out his troubled spirit. Thirty-five years before, on that same day, she became the Queen of the Spains. And now in eleven short days, she had been despoiled of her ancestral throne, by that same Spanish people whose attachment to the native monarchy had ever been proverbial. The hitherto secret committees now came forth as provisional governments. To them the dependents of the late situation handed over their powers. No telegrams, no reports, no bulletins come to Isabel now. Her very name re- verts to the simplicity of private life. Henceforth she is known as Doiia Isabel de Borb6n. The sceptre has slipped from her grasp; her crown is an empty jewel. The Central Junta of Madrid telegraphed to know why San Sebastian hesitates to join the Nation. The Governor informed the wretched Queen as the executioner reminds the condemned. Oh yes! she would go to-morrow ; she could not go that day. The people of San Sebastian were too gal- lant; the Spanish people too chivalrous, not to comprehend. The nation could afford to wait a little over a history, an agony, like this. The next morning, the 30th, the ex-queen emer~ed from her lodgings at about ten oclock. Her attire was neglected, her hands ungloved. She wore a gray impermeable cloak, and a French straw bonnet garnished with a crimson plume. Her face was ruddy and swollen; a forced smile lingered on her lips. King Francisco followed pale and haggard. He was plainly dressed in black without insignia. As they passed to their carriage a group of Frenchmen cried feebly, but politely, Hommage d la Reine. She turned and said: To the French. men thanks for their courtesy.~~ flAke Spani8h Revotutton. [March, At the door of the station there was still the faded trumpery of a floral arch crowned by two Spanish flags. Within, there was a guard of soldiers and a waiting crowd. No bustling inspectors flourished as usual their lace and gold. The engine slowly backed to the train which pointed toward France. Tenfive. There was the roll of a drum. The soldiers pre. sented arms. The eager crowd looked up; many whispered jes ella! It was she. Father Claret led her in. Nervously he held out his fingers. Nobody wanted the proffered blessing, not one advanced to receive it. The archbishop of Cuba forgot that it was a judg. ment day. The king-consort followed next, never so insignifi. cant as now; then Don Sebastian and the Princess. Alfonso, though a child of only eleven years, bustled about to hide his emotion, as though he fully comprehended the situation. The three little Infantas ran up to the train enchanted at the pros. pect of a ride in the cars. Their innocent jubilee forced the tear from the eyes of many who saw it. The mother appeared resigned now, but it was the resignation of a dream. Her eyes wandered or glistened with a filmy stare. At one eime she turned to the crowd on the platform, as if they could save her now. They were the same that in 1840 took her in their arms, while they drove her mother to exile. But to.day Isabel stands before them as Maria Christina did then. Those Octo- ber days in Valencia call to these September days in Guipiiz- coa. With fate, says the Arab poet, it is idle to reason. So the convoy moved away from the station, and the people cried, LONG LIVE SPAIN ! 1881.] The Personality of God. ARTICLE 11.THE PERSONALITY OF GOD. Mikrokosmus. Ideen zur Naturgeschichte und Geschichte der Menschheit. Versuch einer Anthropologie von HERMANN LOTZE. Leipzig: Verlag von S. Hirzel. 1856. Vol. ITI., Ch. 4. Translated by W. HASKELL, Ph.D. Belief and ThoughtThe Evidence for the Existence of Cod Impersonal Forms of the SupremeI and not I O4jections to the Possilility of the Personality of the I?tflnite. OUR reflections have hitherto been occupied with the nature of finite things and the possible apprehensions of their mutual connection: we have, as yet, hardly attempted to explain the idea of that one Being, which, however, under the name of the Infinite, we regarded as indispen- sable to any comprehension of the finite. At this point the course of the inquiry must of itself have led to such an attempt; for, however firmly we may be obliged to put away all expectation of explaining how reality in general is produced, still, in the very act of affirming a dependence of the finite many on the infinite One, we at the same time affirm a contin- uous relation of reality to reality; and we must acknowledge it as an admissible problem to determine, as far as possible, the import of this relation. lit would not, however, be for our advantage just here to make further development of this inquiry strictly from the mere metaphysical impulses which have hitherto been our foundation. In the circle of religious thought, we find the results of this inquiry richly developed, and that in a form which cannot fail to win our most careful attention, for the very reason that, in addition to theoretical needs, the attempt is made to satisfy the heart and the conscience. We wish to connect our researches with this well known development, taking as the object of our reflections, not the metaphysical

1881.] The Personality of God. ARTICLE 11.THE PERSONALITY OF GOD. Mikrokosmus. Ideen zur Naturgeschichte und Geschichte der Menschheit. Versuch einer Anthropologie von HERMANN LOTZE. Leipzig: Verlag von S. Hirzel. 1856. Vol. ITI., Ch. 4. Translated by W. HASKELL, Ph.D. Belief and ThoughtThe Evidence for the Existence of Cod Impersonal Forms of the SupremeI and not I O4jections to the Possilility of the Personality of the I?tflnite. OUR reflections have hitherto been occupied with the nature of finite things and the possible apprehensions of their mutual connection: we have, as yet, hardly attempted to explain the idea of that one Being, which, however, under the name of the Infinite, we regarded as indispen- sable to any comprehension of the finite. At this point the course of the inquiry must of itself have led to such an attempt; for, however firmly we may be obliged to put away all expectation of explaining how reality in general is produced, still, in the very act of affirming a dependence of the finite many on the infinite One, we at the same time affirm a contin- uous relation of reality to reality; and we must acknowledge it as an admissible problem to determine, as far as possible, the import of this relation. lit would not, however, be for our advantage just here to make further development of this inquiry strictly from the mere metaphysical impulses which have hitherto been our foundation. In the circle of religious thought, we find the results of this inquiry richly developed, and that in a form which cannot fail to win our most careful attention, for the very reason that, in addition to theoretical needs, the attempt is made to satisfy the heart and the conscience. We wish to connect our researches with this well known developmen