BX 5530 .W5 1861 
 Whately, Richard, 1787-1863 
 Miscellaneous lectures and 
 reviews 
 
I 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/miscellaneouslecOOwhat_0 
 
MISCELLANEOUS 
 
 LECTURES AND REYIEWS. 
 
 RICHARD WHATELY, D.D. 
 
 ASCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PARKEE, SON, AND BOURN, WEST STRAND. 
 
 MDCCCLXI. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY GEOEGE PHIPPS, 18 & U, TOTHHX STEEET, 
 WESTMINSTEB. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 rpHE following Lectures have already appeared in 
 print, separately, at various times. But it has 
 been suggested to me, that although they do not 
 form a series, nor are connected in point of subject 
 matter, still it may be, to some persons, desirable to 
 have them collected together into a volume. 
 
 They were delivered (some of them, more than 
 once) at various times and places ; but having been 
 always addressed to a more or less mixed audience, 
 they are in a popular style, and do not enter into 
 any abstruse scientific disquisitions. 
 
 Some Articles have been added, from the Quarterly 
 Review, and from the London Review, a Periodical 
 which was discontinued after two numbers. As 
 these Articles were written a good many years ago, 
 some of them contain allusions to a state of things 
 different from what exists now. But it may be to 
 some readers not uninteresting to trace the changes 
 which have since taken place, and to observe how 
 far subsequent occurrences have confirmed or refuted 
 the opinions put forth several years before. 
 
iv 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The Revieiv of Miss Austin's Works was pub- 
 lished some time ago, through a mistake, in the 
 collection of Sir Walter Scott's Remains. He had 
 written, in an earlier number of the Quarterly^ an 
 Article on some other Works of the same Author ; 
 and it was thus that the mistake originated. 
 
 The Article on the Penal Colonies was afterwards 
 republished in one of the two Letters addressed to the 
 late Earl Grey, on the subject of Secondary Punish- 
 ments. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURES. 
 
 LECTUEE 1. 
 On the Intellectual and Moral Influences of the 
 
 Peofessions on the Characteb 1 
 
 LECTURE II. 
 
 On the Origin of Civilisation 26 
 
 Postscript 58 
 
 LECTURE in. 
 On Instinct 60 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 
 De. Paley's Woeks 85 
 
 Note A 118 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 Present State of Egypt 120 
 
 LECTURE VL 
 Bacon's Essays 143 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 The Jews 179 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 On the supposed Dangers of a little Learning . , . 197 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Emigration to Canada 
 
 211 
 
 1. " Facts and Obseirations respecting Canada and the United 
 States of Ameiica," &c. By Chaiies F, Grece, Esq. 
 
 2. " The Emigrant's Guide to Upper Canada ; or Sketches of 
 
 the Present State of that Province," &c. By C. Stuart, 
 Esq. 1820. 
 
 3. " A Visit to the Province of Upper Canada, in 1819." By 
 
 James Sti-achan, Esq. 1820. 
 
 1. " Report from the Select Committee on Criminal Commit- 
 
 ments and Convictions. 1828." 
 
 2. " New South Wales. Return to an Address of the Honour- 
 
 able the House of Commons, dated 1st May, 1828, for a 
 Copy of a Report by the late Major- General Macquarie, 
 &c. ; and an Extract of a Letter from Major-General 
 Macquarie to Earl Bathurst in October, 1823, &c." 
 
 3. " Two Years in New South Wales," &c. By P. Cunningham, 
 Surgeon, R.N. 1827. 
 
 1819. 
 
 II. 
 
 Transportation 
 
 246 
 
 III. 
 
 Modern Novels 
 
 282 
 
 " Northanger Abbey," and " Persuasion." By the Author of 
 • " Sense and Sensibility," &c. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 vii 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Juvekile Library 314 
 
 1. " Scenes of British Wealth, in Produce, Manufactures, and 
 
 Commerce," &c. By the Kev. I. Taylor. 1825. 
 
 2. " Grecian Stories." By Maria Hack. 1828. 
 
 3. "Familiar Illustrations of the Principal Evidences and 
 
 Design of Christianity." By Maria Hack. 1824. 
 
 4. " Conversations on the Life of Jesus Christ ; for the Use of 
 
 Children." By a Mother. 1828. 
 
1 
 
LECTURE 1. 
 
 ON THE INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL 
 INFLUENCES OF THE PROFESSIONS 
 ON THE CHARACTER. 
 
 Some ancient writer relates of the celebrated Hannibal, 
 that during his stay at some regal court, the evening entertain- 
 ment on one occasion consisted of a discourse, (what we in these 
 days should call a "lecture,") which an aged Greek Philo- 
 sopher, named Phormio, if I remember rightly, had the honour 
 of being permitted to deliver before the king and courtiers. It 
 was on the qualifications and duties of a General. The various 
 high endowments — the several branches of knowledge, and the 
 multifarious cares and labours appertaining to an accomplished 
 militaiy leader, were set forth, as most of the hearers thought, 
 with so much ability and elegance, that the discourse was 
 received with general applause. But, as was natural, eager 
 inquiries were made what was thought of it by so eminent a 
 master in the art military, as Hannibal. On his opinion 
 being asked, he replied with soldierlike bluntness, that he had 
 often heard old men talk dotage, but that a greater dotard than 
 Phormio he had never met with. 
 
 He would not however ha-ve been reckoned a dotard — at 
 least he would not have deserved it, (as he did,) — if he had had 
 the sense, instead of giving instructions in the military art 
 to one who knew so much more of it than himself, to have 
 addressed an audience of military men, not as soldiers, but as 
 human beings ; and had set before them correctly and clearly, 
 the effects, intellectual and moral, likely to be produced on 
 them, as men, by the study and the exercise of their profession, 
 w. E. B 
 
2 
 
 INFLUENCES OF THE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 For, that is a point on which men of each profession respec- 
 tively are so far from being necessarily the best judges, that, 
 other things being equal, they are likely to be rather less com- 
 petent judges than those in a different walk of life. 
 
 That each branch of study, and each kind of business, has 
 a tendency to influence the character, and that any such 
 tendency, if operating in excess, exclusively, and unmodified 
 by other causes, is likely to produce a corresponding mental 
 disease or defect, is what no one, I suppose, would deny. It 
 ■would be reasonable as an antecedent conjecture ; and the con- 
 firmation of it by experience is a matter of common remark. 
 I have heard of a celebrated surgeon, whose attention had been 
 chiefly directed to cases of deformity, who remarked that he 
 scarcely ever met an artisan in the street but he was able to 
 assure himself at the first glance what his trade was. He 
 could perceive in persons not actually deformed, that particular 
 gait or attitude — that particular kind of departure from exact 
 symmetry of form — that disproportionate development and 
 deficiency in certain muscles, Avhich distinguished, to his ana- 
 tomical eye, the porter, the smith, the horse-breaker, the stone- 
 cutter, and other kinds of labourers, from each other. And he 
 could see all this, through, and notwithstanding, all the indivi- 
 dual difiierences of original structure, and of various accidental 
 circumstances. 
 
 Bodily peculiarities of this class may be, according to the 
 degree to which they exist, either mere inelegancies hardly 
 worth noticing, or slight inconveniences, or serious deformities, 
 or grievous diseases. The same may be said of those mental 
 peculiai'ities, which the several professional studies and habits 
 tend, respectively, to produce. They may be, according to the 
 degree of them, so trifling as not to amount even to a blemish ; 
 or slight, or more serious defects ; or cases of complete mental 
 distortion. 
 
 You will observe that I shall throughout confine myself to 
 the consideration of the disadvantages and dangers pertaining 
 to each profession, without touching on the intellectual and 
 
LECT. I.] 
 
 PROFESSIONS ON THE CnARACTBR. 
 
 3 
 
 moral lenefils that may result from it. You may often hear 
 from persons gifted with what the Ancients called epideictic 
 eloquence, very admii'able and gratifying panegyrics on each 
 profession. But with a view to practical utility, the considera- 
 tion of dangers to be guarded against is incomparably the most 
 important ; because, to men in each respective profession, the 
 beneficial results will usually take place even without their 
 thinking about them ; whereas the dangers require to be care- 
 fully noted, and habitually contemplated, in order that they 
 may be effectually guarded against. A physician who had a 
 friend about to settle in a hot climate, would be not so likely to 
 dwell on the benefits he would derive spontaneously from breath- 
 ing a warmer air, as to warn him of the dangers of sun-strokes 
 and of marsh- exhalations. 
 
 And it may be added that a description of the faulty habit8 
 which the members of each profession are in especial danger of 
 acquiring, amounts to a high eulogium on each individual, in 
 proportion as he is exempt from those faults. 
 
 To treat fully of such a subject would of course require 
 volumes ; but it may be not unsuitable to the present occasion 
 to throw out a few slight hints, such as may be sufficient to 
 turn your attention to a subject, which appears to me not only 
 curious and interesting, but of great practical importance. 
 
 There is one class of dangers pertaining alike to every 
 profession, every branch of study — every kind of distinct pur- 
 suit. I mean the danger in each, to him who is devoted to it, 
 of over-rating its importance as compared with others; and 
 again, of unduly extending its province. To a man who has no 
 enlarged views, no general cultivation of mind, and no familiar 
 intercourse with the enlightened and the worthy of other classes 
 besides his own, the result must be more or less of the several 
 forms of narrow-mindedness. To apply to all questions, on all 
 subjects, the same principles and rules of judging that are 
 suitable to the particular questions and subjects about which 
 he is especially conversant ; — to bring in those subjects and 
 questions on all occasions, suitable or unsuitable ; like the 
 
 B 3 
 
4 
 
 INFLUENCES OF THE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 painter Horace alludes to, who introduced a cypress tree into the 
 picture of a shipwreck ; — to regard his own particular pursuit 
 as the one important and absorbing interest ; — to look on all 
 other events, transactions, and occupations, chiefly as they 
 minister more or less to that ; — to view the present state and 
 past history of the world chiefly in reference to that; — and to 
 feel a clanish attachment to the members of the particular 
 profession or class he belongs to, as a hody or class ; (an attach- 
 ment, by-the-by, which is often limited to the collective class, 
 and not accompanied with kindly feelings towards the individual 
 members of it,) and to have more or less an alienation of 
 feeling from those of other classes ; — all these, and many other 
 such, are symptoms of that narrow-mindedness which is to be 
 found, alike, mutatis mnfandis, in all who do not carefully guard 
 themselves against it, whatever may be the profession or depart- 
 ment of study of each. 
 
 Against this kind of danger the best preservative, next to 
 that of being thoroughly aware of it, will be found in varied 
 reading and varied society ; in habitual intercourse with men, 
 whether living or dead, — whether pei'sonally or in their works, 
 — of difierent professions and walks of life, and, I may add, 
 of diS'erent Countries and diSerent Ages from our own. 
 
 It is remarked, in a work by Bishop Copleston, " that 
 Locke, like most other writers on education, occasionally con- 
 founds two things, which ought to be kept perfectly distinct, 
 viz. that mode of education, which would be most beneficial, as 
 a system, to society at large, with that which would contribute 
 most to the advantage and prosperity of an individual. These 
 things are often at variance with each other. The former is 
 that alone which deserves the attention of a philosopher ; the 
 latter is narrow, selfish, and mercenary. It is the latter indeed 
 on which the world are most eager to inform themselves ; but 
 the persons who instruct them, however they may deserve the 
 thanks and esteem of those whom they benefit, do no service to 
 mankind. There are but so many good places in the theatre of 
 life ; and he who puts us in the way of procuring one of them, 
 
LECT. I.] PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 5 
 
 docs to ns indeed a gi'cat favour, but none to the whole as- 
 sembly." And in the same work it is further observed, that, 
 *' In the cultivation of literature is found that common link, 
 which among the higher and middling departments of life unites 
 the jarring sects and subdivisions in one interest ; which sup- 
 plies common topics, and kindles common feelings, unmixed 
 with those narrow prejudices, with which all professions are 
 more or less infected. The knowledge too, which is thus 
 acquired, expands and enlarges the mind, excites its faculties, 
 and calls those limbs and muscles into freer exercise, which, by 
 too constant use in one direction, not only acquire an illiberal 
 air, but are apt also to lose somewhat of their native play and 
 energy. And thus, without directly qualifying a man for any 
 of the employments of life, it enriches and ennobles all : with- 
 out teaching him the peculiar benefits of any one office or call- 
 ing, it enables him to act his part in each of them with better 
 grace and more elevated carriage ; and, if happily planned and 
 conducted, is a main ingredient in that complete and generous 
 education, which fits a man' ' to perform justly, skilfully, and 
 magnanimously, all the offices, both private and public, of 
 peace and war.' " 
 
 But to pass from the consideration of the dangers common 
 to all, and to proceed to what is peculiar to each ; I will begin 
 by pointing out one or two of those which especially pertain to 
 the CLERICAL profession. 
 
 The first that I shall notice is one to which I have fre- 
 quently called attention, as being likely to beset all persons in 
 proportion as they are occupied about things sacred ; in dis- 
 cussing, and especially in giving instruction on, moral and 
 religious subjects: and the clergy accordingly must be the 
 most especially exposed to this danger : to the danger, I mean, 
 of that callous indifference, which is proverbially apt to be the 
 result of familiarity. On this point there are some most 
 valuable remarks by Bishop Butler, which I have adverted to 
 
 Milton. 
 
6 
 
 INFLUENCES OF THE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 on various occasions, and among others, in a portion (-which I 
 will here take the liberty of citing) of the last unpublished 
 Charge I had occasion to deliver. 
 
 " ' Going over,' says Bishop Butler, ' the theory of virtue 
 in one's thoughts, talking well, and drawing fine pictures of it ; 
 — this is so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form 
 a habit of it in him who thus employs himself, that it may 
 harden the mind in a contrary course, and render it gradually 
 more insensible, i.e. form an habit of insensibility to all moral 
 considerations. For, from our very faculty of habits, passive 
 impressions, by being repeated, grow weaker ; thoughts, by 
 often passing through the mind, are felt less sensibly. Being 
 accustomed to danger begets intrepidity, i.e. lessens fear; to 
 distress, lessens the passion of pity ; to instances of others' 
 mortality, the sensible apprehension of our own. And from 
 these two observations together; — that ])ractical habits are 
 formed and strengthened by repeated acts, and that passive 
 impressions grow weaker by being repeated upon us ; — it must 
 follow that active habits may be gradually forming and 
 strengthening, by a course of acting upon such motives and 
 excitements, while these motives and excitements themselves 
 are by proportionable degrees growing less sensible, i.e. ave 
 continually less and less sensibly felt, even as the active habits 
 strengthen. And experience confirms this ; for, active prin- 
 ciples, at the very same time that they are less lively in per- 
 ception than they were, are found to be somehow wrought more 
 thoroughly into the temper and character, and become more 
 effectual in influencing our practice. The three things just 
 mentioned may afford instances of it : perception of danger is a 
 natural excitement of passive fear, and active caution ; and by 
 being inured to danger, habits of the latter are gradually 
 wrought, at the same time that the former gradually lessens. 
 Perception of distress in others, is a natural excitement, 
 passively to pity, and actively to relieve it : but let a man set 
 himself to attend to, inquire out, and relieve distressed persons, 
 and he cannot but grow less and less sensibly affected with the 
 
LECT. I.] PROFESSIONS ON THE CHAKACTER. 
 
 7 
 
 various miseries of life with which he must become acquainted ; 
 when yet at the same time, benevolence, considered, not as a 
 passion, but as a practical principle of action, will strengthen ; 
 and whilst he passively compassionates the distressed less, he 
 will acquire a greater aptitude actively to assist and befriend 
 them. So also at the same time that the daily instances of 
 men's dying around us, gives us daily a less sensible passive 
 feeling, or apprehension of our own mortality, such instances 
 greatly contribute to the strengthening a practical regard to it 
 in serious men ; i.e. to forming a habit of acting with a con- 
 stant view to it. And this seems again further to show, that, 
 passive impressions made upon our minds by admonition, 
 experience, example, though they may have a remote eflScacy, 
 and a very great one, towards foi-ming active habits, yet can 
 have this efficacy no otherwise than by inducing us to such a 
 course of action ; and that it is not being affected so and so, 
 but acting, which forms those habits. Only it must always be 
 remembered, that real endeavours to enforce good impressions 
 upon ourselves, are a species of virtuous action.' " Thus far 
 Bishop Butler. " That moral habits," I proceeded to say, " can 
 only be acquired by practical efforts, was long since remarked 
 by Aristotle ; who ridicules those that attended philosophical 
 discourses with an expectation of improvement, while they con- 
 tented themselves with listening, understanding, and approving ; 
 comparing them to a patient who should hope to regain health 
 by listening to his physician's directions, without following 
 them. But he omitted to add, as Bishop Butler has done, that 
 such a procedure is much worse than useless ; being positively 
 dangerous. 
 
 *' I need hardly remark, that what the author says of virtue, 
 is at least equally applicable to religion ; and that consequently, 
 no one is so incurably and hopelessly hardened in practical 
 irreligion as one who has the most perfect familiarity with 
 religious subjects and religious feelings, without having cul- 
 tivated corresponding active principles. It is he that is, em- 
 phatically, ' the barren fig-tree,' which has ' no fruit on it. 
 
8 
 
 INFLUENCES OP THE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 but leaves only !' not, a tree standing torpid and destitute of all 
 vegetation, during the winter's frost or summer's drought, and 
 capable of being called into life and productiveness, by rain and 
 sunshine ; but, a tree in full vigour of life and growth, M'hose 
 sap is all diverted from the formation of fruit, and is expended 
 in flourishing boughs that bear only barren leaves." 
 
 I need hardly say that the danger I have been now 
 alluding to, as it is one which besets each person the more in 
 proportion as he is conversant about religious and moral dis- 
 cussions, studies and reflections, is accordingly one which the 
 Clergy most especially should be vigilantly on their guard against, 
 as being professionally occupied with this class of subjects. 
 
 They are professionally exposed again to another danger, 
 chiefly intellectual, from the circumstance of their having 
 usually to hold so much intercourse, in their private ministra- 
 tions, with persons whose reasoning powers are either naturally 
 weak, or very little cultivated, or not called forth on those 
 subjects, and on those occasions, on which they are conversing 
 professionally with a clergyman. How large a proportion of 
 mankind taken indiscriminately, must be expected to fall under 
 one or other of these descriptions, we must be well aware : and 
 it is with mankind thus talien indiscriminatehj , that the Clergy 
 in the domestic portion of their ministrations, are to hold inter- 
 course. Even a disproportionate share of their attention is 
 usually claimed by the poorer, the younger, and in short 
 generally, the less educated among their people. Among these 
 there must of course always be a large proportion who will be 
 often more readily influenced by a fallacious, than by a sound 
 reason ; — who will often receive readily an insufiicient explana- 
 tion, and will often be prevented by ignorance, or dulness, or 
 prejudice, from admitting a correct one. And moreover," of 
 those whose qualifications are higher, as respects other subjects, 
 there are not a few who, on moral and religious subjects, 
 (from various causes,) fall far short of themselves. There are 
 not a few, e.g. who, while in the full vigour of body and mind, 
 ^ay little or no attention to any such subjects; and when 
 
LECT. I.] 
 
 PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 
 
 9 
 
 enfeebled in their mental powers by sickness or sudden terror, 
 or decrepit age, will resign themselves to indiscriminate cre- 
 dulity — who at one time will listen to nothing^ and at another, 
 will listen to ( ny ihhuj. 
 
 With all these classes of persons, then, a clergyman is led, 
 in the course of his private duty, to have much intercourse. 
 And that such intercourse is likely to be any thing but im- 
 proving to the reasoning faculties — to their development, or 
 their correction, or even to sincerity and fairness in the exer- 
 cise of them, is sufficiently evident. The danger is one which 
 it is important to have clearly before us. When a man of 
 good sense distinctly perceives it, and carefully and habitually 
 reflects on it, he will not be much at a loss as to the means by 
 which it is to be guarded against. 
 
 You will observe that 1 have pointed out under this head 
 a moral, as well as an intellectual danger. And in truth the 
 temptation is not at all a weak one, even to one who is far 
 from an insincere character altogether, to lead ignorant, or ill- 
 educated, and prejudiced men into what he is convinced is best 
 for them, by unsound reasons, when he finds them indisposed 
 to listen to sound ones ; thus satisfying his conscience that he 
 is making a kind of compensation, since there really are good 
 grounds (though they cannot see them) for the conclusion he 
 advocates; till he acquires a habit of tampei'ing with truth, and 
 finally loses all reverence and all relish for it." 
 
 Another class of dangers, and perhaps the greatest of all to 
 which the Clergy are professionally exposed, and which is the 
 last I shall mention, is the temptation to prefer popularity to 
 truth, and the present comfort and gratification of the people to 
 their ultimate welfare. The well-known fable of Mahomet and 
 the mountain, which he found it easier to go to, himself, than 
 to make the mountain come to him, may be regarded as a sort 
 of allegorical type of any one who seeks to give peace of 
 conscience and satisfaction to his hearers, and to obtain applause 
 
 • See Essay on Pious Frauds (Third Series) ; and Dr. West's Discourse on Reserve. 
 
10 INFLUENCES OF THE [usct. i. 
 
 for himself, by bringing his doctrine and language into a con- 
 formity with the inclinations and the conduct of his hearers, 
 rather than by bringing the character of the hearers into a 
 conformity with what is true and right. Not that there are 
 many, who are, in the outset at least, so unprincipled as 
 deliberately to suppress essential truths, or to inculcate known 
 falsehood, for the sake of administering groundless comfort, or 
 gaining applause ; but as " a gift" is said in Scripture to 
 "blind the eyes," so, the bribe of popularity (especially when 
 the alternative is perhaps severe censure, and even persecution) 
 is likely, by little and little, to bias the judgment, — to blind 
 the eyes first to the importance, and afterwards to the truth, of 
 unpopular doctrines and precepts; and ultimately to bring a 
 man himself to believe what his hearers wish him to teacli. 
 
 Popularity has, of course, great charms for all classes of 
 men ; but in the case of a clergyman it offers this additional 
 temptation ; that it is to him, in a great degree, the favourable 
 opinion not merely of the world in general, or of a multitude 
 assembled on some special occasion, but of the very neighbours 
 by whom he is surrounded, and with whom he is in habits of 
 daily intercourse. 
 
 There is another most material circumstance also which (in 
 respect of this point) distinguishes the case of the clerical pro- 
 fession from that of any other. It is true that a medical man 
 may be under a temptation to flatter his patients with false 
 hopes, to indulge them in unsuitable regimen, to substitute some 
 cordial that gives temporary relief, for salutary but unpleasant 
 medicines, or painful operations, such as are really needful for 
 a cure. But those (and there are such, as is well known) who 
 pursue such a course, can seldom obtain more than temporary 
 success. "When it is seen that their patients do not ultimately 
 recover, and that all the fair promises given, and sanguine hopes 
 raised, end in aggravation of disease, or in premature death — 
 the bubble bursts; and men quit these pretenders for those 
 
 ' All this is of course especially applicable under what is called the " Voluntary 
 System." 
 
MOT. I.] PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 11 
 
 whose practice bears the test of experience. These, therefore, 
 are induced by a regard for their own permanent success in 
 their profession, as well as by higher motives, to prefer the 
 correct and safe mode of treating their patients. But it is far 
 otherwise with those whose concern is with the diseases of the 
 soul, not of the body — with the next life instead of this. Their 
 treatment cannot be brought to the same test of experience till 
 the day of Judgment. If they shall have deluded both their 
 hearers and themselves by " speaking peace when there is no 
 peace," the flattering cordial, however deleterious, may remain 
 undetected, and both parties may continue in the error all their 
 lives,, and the error may even survive them^ 
 
 So also again in the legal profession ; — one who gives flat- 
 tering but unsound advice to his clients, or who pleads causes 
 with specious elegance, unsupported by accurate legal know- 
 ledge, may gain a temporary, but seldom more than a temporary, 
 popularity. It is his interest, therefore, no less than his duty, 
 to acquire this accurate knowledge : and if he is mistaken on 
 any point, the decisions of a Court will give him sufiicient 
 warning to be more careful in future. But the Court which is 
 finally to correct the other class of mistakes, is the one that 
 will sit on that last great Day, when the tares will be finally 
 separated from the wheat, and when the " wood, hay, and 
 stubble," that may have been built up on the divine foundation, 
 by human folly or artifice, will be burned up. 
 
 The Clergy therefore have evidently more need than others 
 to be on their guard against a temptation, from which they are 
 not, like others, protected by considerations of temporal interest, 
 or by the lessons of daily experience. 
 
 With regard to the medical profession there used to be (for 
 of late I think it is otherwise) a remark almost proverbially 
 common, that the members of it were especially prone to infi- 
 delity, and even to Atheism. And the same imputation was by 
 many persons extended to those occupied in such branches of 
 
 ' See Scripture Bevdationa of a Future State, Lect. XII. 
 
12 
 
 INFLUENCES OP TUE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 physical science as are the most connected with medicine ; and 
 oven to scientific n en generally. Of late years, as I have said, 
 this impression has become much less prevalent. 
 
 In a question of fact, such as this, open to general observa- 
 tion, there is a strong presumption afforded by the prevalence of 
 any opinion, that it has at least some kind of foundation in 
 truth. There is a presumption, that either medical men were 
 more generally unbelievers than the average, or at least, that 
 those of them who were so were more ready to avow it. In like 
 manner there is a corresponding presumption, that in the present 
 generation of medical men there is a greater proportion than 
 among their predecessors, who are either believers in Revelation, 
 or at least not avowed unbelievers. 
 
 It will be more profitable, however, instead of entering on 
 any question as to the amount and extent, present or past, of 
 the danger to which I have been alluding, to ofier some con- 
 jectures as to the causes of it. 
 
 The one which I conceive occurs the most readily to most 
 men's minds is, that a medical practitioner has no Sunday. Th'e 
 character of his profession does not admit of his regularly aban- 
 doning it for one day in the week, and regularly attending pub- 
 lic worship along with Christians of all classes. Now various 
 as are the modes of observing the Lord's- day in difierent christian 
 countries, and diverse as are the modes of worship, there is 
 perhaps no point in which Christians of all ages and countries 
 have been more agreed, than in assembling together for some 
 kind of joint worship on the first day of the week. And no 
 one I think can doubt, that, independently of any edification 
 derived from the peculiar religious services which they respec- 
 tively attend, the mere circumstance of doing something/ every 
 week as a religious observance, must have some tendency to keep 
 up in men's minds a degree of respect, rational or irrational, 
 for the religion in whose outward observances they take a part. 
 
 A physician in considerable practice must, we know, often 
 be prevented from doing this. And the professional calls, 
 it may be added, which make it often impossible for him to 
 
LECT. I.] PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 13 
 
 attend public worship, will naturally tend, by destroying the 
 habit, to keep him away, even when attendance is possible. 
 Anything that a person is prevented from doing halitually, 
 he is likely habitually to omit. There is nothing peculiar 
 in the case of attendance on public worship. The same thing 
 may be o'bserved in many ot';ers equally. A man placed in 
 circumstances which interfere with his forming or keeping 
 up domestic habits, or literary habits, or habits of bodily activity, 
 is likely to be less 'domestic, less literary, more sedentary, than 
 his circumstances require. 
 
 I have no doubt that the cause I have now been adverting 
 to does operate. But there are others, less obvious perhaps, 
 but I think not less important. A religion which represents 
 Man's whole existence as divided into two portions, of which 
 his life on earth is every way incalculably the smaller, is 
 forcibly brought before the mind in a way to excite serious 
 reflections, by such .an event as death, when occurring before 
 our eyes, or within our particular knowledge. Now a medical 
 man is familiar with death ; i. e. with the sight and the idea 
 of it. And the indifference which is likely to result from such 
 familiarity, I need not here dwell on, further than to refer 
 you to the passage of Bishop Butler already cited. 
 
 But moreover death is not only familiar to the physician, 
 but it is also familiar to him as the final termination of that 
 state of existence with which alone he has professionally any 
 concern. As a Christian he may regard it as preparatory 
 to a new state of existence ; but as a physician he is concerned 
 only with life in this world, which it is his business to in- 
 vigorate and to prolong; and with death, only as the final 
 catastrophe which he is to keep off as long as possible, and 
 in reference merely to the physical causes which have pro- 
 duced it. 
 
 Now the habit of thi(s contemplating death, must have a 
 tendency to divert the mind from reflecting on it with reference 
 to other and dissimilar considerations. For, it may be laid down 
 as a general maxim, that the habit of contemplating any class 
 
14 
 
 INFLUENCES OF THE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 of objects iu such and such a particular point of view, tends, so 
 far, to render us the less qualified for contemplating them 
 in any other point of view. And this maxim, I conceive, 
 is capable of very extensive application in reference to all 
 professional studies and pursuits; and goes far towards fur- 
 nishing an explanation of their effects on the mind of the 
 individual. 
 
 But there is another cause, and the last I shall notice 
 under the present head, which I conceive co-operates frequently 
 with those above-mentioned: I mean the practice common 
 with many Divines of setting forth certain physiological or 
 metaphysical theories as part and parcel of the christian reve- 
 lation, or as essentially connected with it. If any of these 
 be unsound, they may, nevertheless, pass muster with the 
 generality of readers and hearers ; and however unprofitable, 
 may be, to them, at least harmless; but they present a 
 stumbling-block to the medical man, and to the physiologist, 
 who may perceive that unsoundness. For example, I have 
 known Divines not only maintaining the immaterialify of the 
 soul as a necessary preliminary to the reception of Christianity, 
 — as the very basis of Gospel-revelation, — but maintaining 
 it by such arguments as go to prove the entire independence of 
 mind on matter ; urging, e. g. among others, the instances 
 of full manifestation of the intellectual powers in persons at the 
 point of death. Now this, or the opposite, the physiologist 
 will usually explain from the different parts of the bodily frame 
 that are affected in each different disease. If he believes the 
 brain to be necessarily connected with the mind, this belief 
 will not be shaken by the manifestation of mental powers in a 
 person who is dying of a disease of the lunffs. He will no 
 more infer from this that mind is wholly independent of the 
 body, than he would, that sight is independent of the body, 
 because a man may retain his powers of vision when his limbs 
 are crippled. 
 
 The questions concerning materialism I do not mean to 
 enter upon : I only wish to call your attention to the mistake 
 
LECT. I.] PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER 15 
 
 common to botli parties : that of supposing tliat these questions 
 are vitally connected with Christianity ; whereas there is not 
 one word relating to them in the christian Scriptures. In- 
 deed even at this day a large proportion of sincere Christians 
 among the humbler classes, are decidedly materialists ; though 
 if you inquired of them, they would deny it, because they are 
 accustomed to confine the word matter to things perceptible 
 to the touch ; but their belief in ghosts or spirits having been 
 seen and heard, evidently implies the possession by these of 
 what philosophers reckon attributes of matter. And the dis- 
 ciples of Jesus were terrified, we are told, when they saw Him 
 after his resurrection, " supposing that they saw a spirit.' 
 He convinced them, we read, of his being real flesh and blood: 
 but whatever may have been their error as to the visible,— 
 and consequently material — character of a Spirit, it does not 
 appear that He thought it essential to instruct them on that 
 head. He who believed that Jesus was truly risen from the 
 dead, and that the same power would raise up his followers at 
 the last day, had secured the foundation of the christian faith. 
 
 It is much to be wished that religious persons would be 
 careful to abstain — I do not say, from entering on any physio- 
 logical or metaphysical speculations (which they have a perfect 
 right to do) — but from mixing up these with Christianity, and 
 making every thing that they believe on matters at all con- 
 nected with religion, a part of their religious faith. I re- 
 member conversing with an intelligent man on the subject of 
 some speculations tending to a revival of the doctrine of 
 equivocal generation, which he censured, as leading to Atheism. 
 He was somewhat startled on my reminding him that two 
 hundred years ago many would have as readily set a man down 
 as an atheist who should have denied that doctrine. Both 
 conclusions, I conceive, to be alike rash and unwarrantable. 
 
 I cannot but advert in concluding this head, to the danger 
 likely to arise from the language of some Divines respecting a 
 peaceful or troubled departure, as a sure criterion of a christian 
 or an unchristian life. " A death-bed's a detector of the heart," 
 
16 INFLUENCES OF THE [i,ect. i. 
 
 is the observation of one of them, who is well known "as a poet. 
 Now, that a man's state of mind on his death-bed is often 
 verj much influenced by his past life, there is no doubt ; but 
 I believe most medical men can testify that it is quite as often 
 and as much influenced by the disease of which he dies. The 
 efiects of certain nervous and other disorders in producing dis- 
 tressing agitation, — of the process of suppuration, in producing 
 depression of spirits — the calming and seething effects of a 
 mortification in its last stage, and many other such phenomena, 
 arOj I believe, familiar to pi-actitioners. When then they find 
 promises and threats boldly held out which are far from being 
 regularly fulfilled, — when they find various statements con- 
 fidently made, some of which appear to them improbable, and 
 others at variance with facts coming under their own experience, 
 they are in danger of drawing conclusions unfavourable to the 
 truth of Christianity, if they apply too hastily the maxim of 
 " peritis credendum est in arte sua;" and take for granted on 
 the word of Divines that whatever they teach as a part of 
 Christianity, really is so ; without making inquiry for them- 
 selves. They are indeed no less culpably rash in such a pro- 
 cedure than any one would have been who should reason in 
 a similar manner from the works of medical men two or three 
 hundred years ago ; who taught the influence of the stars on 
 the human frame — the importance of the moon's phases to the 
 efficacy of medicines, and other such fancies. Should any one 
 have thence inferred that astronomy and medicine never could 
 have any claims to attention, and were merely idle dreams of 
 empty pretenders, he would not have been more rash than a 
 physician or physiologist who judges of Christianity by the 
 hypotheses of all who profess to teach it. 
 
 The effects, moral and intellectual, of the study and 
 PRACTICE OF THE LAW is a Subject to which I could not have 
 done justice within the limits of a single lecture, even had I 
 confined myself to that one department. For, the Law, — 
 especially considered in this point of view, — is not one pro- 
 
lECT. I.] 
 
 PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 
 
 17 
 
 fession, but many — a Judge, an Attorney, a Solicitor, a Com- 
 mon-Law Barrister, a Chancery Barrister, a Special Pleader, 
 &e., are all occupied with Law ; but widely different are the 
 effects, advantageous and disadvantageous, likely to be pro- 
 duced on their minds by their respective occupations'. 
 
 On this point I have thrown out a slight hint in a treatise 
 on LO<jrc (the joint work of Bishop Copleston and myself), from 
 which I will take the liberty of citing a short passage : 
 [Book IV. Chap. III. §§1.2.] 
 
 " Reasoning comprehends inferring and proving ; which are 
 not two different things, but the same thing regarded in two 
 different points of view : like the road from London to York, 
 and the road from York to London. He who infers, proves ; 
 and he who proves, infers ; but the word ' infer' fixes the mind 
 first on the premiss, and then on the conclusion ; the word 
 * prove,' on the contrary, leads the mind from the conclusion to 
 the premiss. Hence, the substantives derived from these words 
 respectively, are often used to express that which, on each 
 
 ' It is worth remarking tliat there is 
 one point wherein some branches of the 
 Law differ from others, and agree with 
 some Professions of a totally different 
 class. Superior ability and j)rofessioiial 
 ekill, in a J udge, a Solicitor, j)r a Con- 
 veyancer, are, if combined with integrity, 
 a public benefit. They confer a service 
 on certain individuals, not at the expense 
 of any others : and the death or retire- 
 ment of a man thus qualified, is a loss 
 to the community . And the same may 
 be said of a Physician, a Manufacturer, 
 a Navigator, &,c. of extraordinary ability. 
 A Pleader, on the contrary, of powers 
 far above the average, is not, as aueh, 
 serviceable to the Public. He obtains 
 wealth and credit for himself and bis 
 family ; but any especial advantage ac- 
 cruing from bis superior ability, to those 
 who chance to be bis clients, is just so 
 much loss to those he chances to be op- 
 posed to: and lohich party is, on each 
 occasion, in the right, must be regarded 
 W, E. 
 
 as an even chance. His death, therefore, 
 would be no loss to the Public ; only, to 
 those particular persons who might have 
 benefited hy his superior abilities, at 
 their opponents' expense. It is not that 
 Advocates, generally, are not useful to 
 the Public. They are even necessary. 
 But extraordinary ability in an Advo- 
 cate, is an advantage only to himself and 
 bis friends. To the Public, the most de- 
 sirable thing is, that Pleaders should be 
 as equally matched as possible ; so that 
 neither John Doe nor Richard Roe should 
 have any advantage independent of the 
 goodness of his cause. E.\traordinary 
 ability in an Advocate may indeed raise 
 bim to great wealth, or to a scat on the 
 Bench, or in the Senate ; and he may 
 use these advantages — as many illustri- 
 ous examples show, greatly to the public 
 benefit But then, it is not as an Advo- 
 cate, directly, but as a rich man, as a 
 Judge, or as a Senator, that he thus 
 benefits his Country. 
 
 G 
 
18 
 
 INFLUENCES OF THE 
 
 [lect. I.- 
 
 occasion, is last in the mind ; inference being often used to 
 signify the conclusion {i.e. proposition inferred) and |;roo/ — 
 the premiss. We say, also, ' How do you prove that ? ' and 
 ' What do you infer from that?' which sentences would not be 
 so properly expressed if we were to transpose those verbs. 
 One might, therefore, define proving, ' the assigning of a reason 
 or argument for the support of a given proposition;' and 
 inferring, ' the deduction of a conclusion from given premises.' 
 
 " In the one case our Conclusion is given {i.e., set before us 
 as the Question) and we have to seek for arguments ; in the 
 other, our premises are given, and we have to seek for a 
 Conclusion — i.e., to put together our own Propositions, and try 
 •what will follow from them ; or, to speak more logically, in one 
 case, we seek to refer the Subject of which we would predicate 
 something to a Class to which that Predicate will (affirmatively 
 or negatively) apply; in the other, we seek to find compre- 
 hended in the Subject of which we have predicated something, 
 some other term to which that Predicate had not been before 
 applied. Each of these is a definition of reasoning. To mfer, 
 then, is the business of the Philosopher; to prove, of the 
 Advocate ; the former, from the great mass of known and 
 admitted truths, wishes to elicit any valuable additional truth 
 whatever, that has been hitherto unperceived ; and perhaps with- 
 out knowing with certainty what will be the terms of his con- 
 clusion. Thus the Mathematician, e.g., seeks to ascertain what 
 is the ratio of circles to each other, or ivhat is the line whose 
 square will be equal to a given circle. The Advocate, on the 
 other hand, has a proposition put before him, which he is to 
 maintain as well as he can. His business, therefore, is to find 
 Middle-terms (which is the inventio of Cicero) ; the Philosopher's 
 to combine and select known, facts or principles, suitably for 
 gaining from them conclusions which, though implied in the 
 premises, were before unperceived ; in other words, for making 
 * logical discoveries.' " 
 
 To this I will take the liberty of adding another short 
 extract from the treatise on khetoric ; which may furnish a 
 
LECT. I.] PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 19 
 
 hint as to a class of dangers common to men of every pursuit 
 and profession ; that of a person supposing himself, from having 
 been long conversant with a certain subject, to be qualified for 
 every kind of business, or of discussion that relates to the same 
 subject:— [Rhet., Part II. Chap. III. § 5.] "The longest 
 practice in conducting any business in one way, does not neces- 
 sarily confer any experience in conducting it in a different way. 
 MGr.,s.n experienced husbandman, or minister of state, in Persia, 
 would be much at a loss in Europe; and if they had some 
 things less to learn than an entire novice, on the other hand 
 they would have much to unlearn ; and, again, merely being 
 conversant about a certain class of subjects, does not confer 
 experience in a case where the operations and the end proposed 
 are different. It is said that there was an Amsterdam merchant, 
 who had dealt largely in corn all his life, who had never seen a 
 field of wheat growing. This man had doubtless acquired, by 
 experience, an accurate judgment of the qualities of each 
 description of corn — 'of the best methods of storing it, — of the 
 arts of buying and selling it at proper times, &c. ; but he 
 would have been greatly at a loss in its cultivation, though he 
 had been, in a certain way, long conversant about corn. Nearly 
 similar is the experience of a practised lawyer, (supposing him 
 to be nothing more,) in a case of legislation. Because he has 
 been long conversant about law, the unreflecting attribute 
 great weight to his judgment : whereas his constant habits of 
 fixing his thoughts on what the law is, and withdrawing it 
 from the irrelevant question of what the law ought to he, — his 
 careful observance of a multitude of rules, (which afibrd the 
 more scope for the display of his skill, in proportion as they 
 are arbitrary, unreasonable, and unaccountable,) with a studied 
 indifi"erence as to (that which is foreign from his business,) the 
 convenience or inconvenience of those rules — may be expected 
 to operate unfavourably on his judgment in questions of legis- 
 lation ; and are likely to counterbalance the advantages of his 
 superior knowledge, even in such points as do bear on the 
 question." 
 
 c 3 
 
20 
 
 INFLUENCES OP THE 
 
 [UBCT. I. 
 
 And here I may remark by tlie way, that a person engaged 
 habitually in State aifairs — a Politician by profession — ought 
 to be peculiarly on his guard against supposing his mode of 
 life to generate especial qualifications in those very points in 
 which its tendency is, — unless particular care be taken to guard 
 against the danger, — to produce rather a disqualification. Who 
 is likely to be the best judge (other points being equid) it might 
 be asked, of the relative importance of political questions ? At 
 the first glance many would be disposed to answer, " Of course, 
 a politician." But the disproportionate attention necessarily 
 bestowed on different questions, according as they are or are 
 not made party -questions — the fields of battle on which the 
 contests for political superiority are to be carried on — inde- 
 pendently of the intrinsic importance of each — this is a cause 
 which must be continually operating to disturb the judgment 
 of one practically engaged in politics. Every one at all versed 
 in history must be acquainted with many instances of severe 
 and protracted struggles concerning matters which are now 
 remembered only on account of the struggles they occasioned ; 
 and again, of enactments materially affecting the welfare of 
 unborn millions, which hardly attracted any notice at the time, 
 and were slipped into one of the heterogeneous clauses of an 
 Act of Parliament. 
 
 Precluded, then, as I find myself, for the reasons above 
 mentioned, from entering fully on the consideration of the 
 several departments of legal study and practice, I will detain 
 you only with a few brief hints respecting some of the dangers 
 to be guarded against from the barrister's profession. 
 
 He is, as I have already observed, in less danger than a 
 Clergyman, of settling down into some confirmed incorrect view of 
 any particular points connected with his profession ; both for 
 the reason there given, — there being a Court on earth to 
 correct any mistake he may make ; — and also because having 
 to plead various causes, he is called upon to extenuate to-day 
 what he aggravated yesterday, — to attach more or less weight, 
 at different times, to the same kind of evidence — to impugn. 
 
LECT. I.] 
 
 PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 
 
 21 
 
 and to enforce, the same principles, according as the interests 
 of his clients may require. 
 
 But this very circumstance must evidently have a tendency, 
 which ought to be sedulously guarded against, to alienate the 
 mind from the investigation of truth. Bishop Butler observes, 
 and laments, that it is very common for men to have " a 
 curiosity to know what is said, but no curiosity to know what 
 is true." Now none can be (other points being equal) more 
 in need of being put on his guard against this fault, than he 
 who is professionally occupied with a multitude of cases, in 
 each of which he is to consider what may be plausibly urged on 
 both sides; while the question what ought to he the decision, is 
 out of his province as a Pleader. I am supposing him not to 
 be seeking to mislead a Judge or Jury by urging fallacious 
 arguments : but there will often be sound and valid arguments — 
 real probabilities — on opposite sides. A Judge, or any one 
 whose business is to ascertain truth, is to decide according to 
 the preponderance of the reasons ; but the Pleader'' s business is 
 merely to set forth, as forcibly as possible, those on his own 
 side. And if he thinks that the habitual practice of this has 
 BO tendency to generate in him, morally, any indifference, or 
 intellectually, any incompetence, in respect of the ascertainment 
 of truth, — if he consider himself quite safe from any such 
 danger, — I should then say that he is in very great danger. 
 
 I have been supposing (as has been said) that he is one who 
 would scruple to mislead wilfully a Judge or Jury by specious 
 sophistry, or to seek to embarrass an honest witness, and bring 
 his testimony into discredit ; but there is no denying that he is 
 under a great temptation even to resort to this. Nay, it has 
 even been maintained by no mean authority, that it is part of a 
 Pleader's duty to have no scruples about this or any other act 
 whatever that may benefit his client. " There are many whom 
 it may be needful to remind," says an eminent lawyer, " that 
 an Advocate, by the sacred duty of his connexion with his client, 
 knows in the discharge of that office but one person in the 
 world — that client and none other. To serve that client by all 
 
22 
 
 INFLUENCES OF THE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 expedient means, to protect that client at all hazards and costs 
 to all others (even the party already injured) and amongst 
 others to himself, is the highest and most unquestioned of his 
 duties. And he must not regard the alarm, the suffering, the 
 torment, the destruction, which he may bring upon any others. 
 Nay, separating even the duties of a patriot from those of an 
 advocate, he must go on, reckless of the consequences, if his 
 fate should unhappily be to involve his country in confusion for 
 his client." — [Licence of Counsel, p. 3.] 
 
 On the other hand it is recorded that " Sir Matthew Hale, 
 whenever he was convinced of the injustice of any cause, would 
 engage no more in it than to explain to his client the grounds 
 of that conviction ; he abhorred the practice of misreciting 
 evidence, quoting precedents in books falsely or unfairly, so as 
 to deceive ignorant juries or inattentive judges ; and he adhered 
 to the same scrupulous sincerity in his pleadings which he 
 observed in the other transactions of life. It was as great a 
 dishonour as a man was capable of, that for a little money he 
 was hired to say otherwise than he thought." — [Licence of 
 Counsel, p. 4.] 
 
 " The Advocate," says another eminent legal writer, " ob- 
 serving in an honest witness a deponent whose testimony 
 promises to be adverse, assumes terrific tones and deportment, 
 and, pretending to find dishonesty on the part of the witness, 
 strives to give his testimony the appearance of it. I say a 
 bond fide witness ; for in the case of a witness who, by an ad- 
 verse interrogator, is really looked upon as dishonest, this is not 
 the proper course, nor is it taken with him. For bringing to 
 light the falsehood of a witness really believed to be mendacious, 
 the more suitable, or rather the only suitable course is to for- 
 bear to express the impression he has inspired. Supposing his 
 tale clear of suspicion, the witness runs on his course with 
 fluency till he is entangled in some irretrievable contradiction, 
 at variance with other parts of his own story, or with facts 
 notorious in themselves, or established by proofs from other 
 sources." — [Licence of Coansel, p. 5.] 
 
LEcr. I.] PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 23 
 
 ** We happen to be aware, from the practice of persons of 
 the highest experience in the examination of witnesses, that this 
 description is almost without exception correct, and that, as a 
 general rule, it is only the honest and timid witness who is con- 
 founded by imperious deportment. The practice gives pre- 
 eminence to the unscrupulous witness who can withstand such 
 assaults. Sir Roger North, in his Life of Sir Dudley North, 
 relates that the law of Turkey, like our absurd law of evidence 
 in some-cases, required the testimony of two witnesses in proof 
 of each fact ; and that a practice had in consequence arisen, 
 and had obtained the sanction of general opinion, of using a 
 false witness in pi'oof of those facts which admitted of only one 
 witness. Sir Dudley North, while in Turkey, had numerous 
 disputes, which it became necessary to settle by litigation, — 
 ' and,' says his biographer, ' our merchant found by experience, 
 that in a direct fact a false witness was a surer card than a 
 true one ; for if the judge has a mind to baffle a testimony, an 
 honest, harmless witness, that doth not know his play, cannot 
 so well stand his many captious questions as a false witness used 
 to the trade will do; for he hath been exercised, and is prepared 
 for such handling, and can clear himself, when the other will be 
 confounded : therefore circumstances may be such as to make the 
 false one more eligible.' " 
 
 According to one, then, of the writers I have cited, an Ad- 
 vocate is justified, and is fulfilling a duty, not only in protesting 
 with solemnity his own full conviction of the justice of his 
 client's cause, though he may feel no such conviction, — not only 
 in feigning various emotions, (like an actor ; except that the 
 actor's credit consists in its being known that he is only 
 feigning,) such as pity, indignation, moral approbation, or dis- 
 gust, or contempt, when he neither feels any thing of the kind, 
 nor believes the case to be one that justly calls for such 
 feelings ; but he is also occasionally to entrap or mislead, to 
 revile, insult, and calumniate persons whom he may in his 
 heart believe to be respectable persons and honest witnesses. 
 Another on the contrary observes : We might ask our learned 
 
24 
 
 INFLUENCES OF THE 
 
 [lect. I. 
 
 friend and fellow-christian, as well as the learned and noble 
 editor of Paky's Natural Theology, and his other fellow-pro- 
 fessors of the religion which sajs ' that lying lips are an abomi- 
 nation to the Lord,' to explain to us how thej reconcile the 
 practice under their rule, with the christian precepts, or avoid 
 the solemn scriptural denunciation — ' Wo» unto them that call 
 evil good, and good evil ; that put darkness for light, and 
 light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for 
 bitter; . . . which justify the wicked for reward, and take 
 away the righteousness of the righteous from him.' " — [^Licence 
 of Counsel, p. 10.] 
 
 I have brought forward by choice the opinions of legal 
 writers, both for and against the necessity and allowableness of 
 certain practices ; leaving each person to decide for himself both 
 what is the right course for a Pleader to pursue, and what is 
 the probable effect produced on the mind by the course pursued 
 respectively by each. I will add only one remark, extracted 
 from a work of my own, indicative of my own judgment as to 
 the points touched on. 
 
 " In oral examination of witnesses, a skilful cross- examiner 
 will often elicit from a reluctant witness most important truths, 
 which the witness is desirous of concealing or disguising. There 
 is another kind of skill, which consists in so alarming, mis- 
 leading, or bewildering an honest witness, as to throw discredit 
 on his testimony, or pervert the effect of it. Of this kind of 
 art, which may be characterised as the most, or one of the 
 most, base and depraved of all possible employments of intel- 
 lectual power, I shall only make one further observation. I am 
 convinced that the most effectual mode of eliciting truth, is 
 quite different from that by which an honest, simple-minded 
 witness is most easily baffled and confused. I have seen the 
 experiment tried, of subjecting a witness to such a kind of 
 cross-examination by a practised lawyer, as would have been, I 
 am convinced, the most likely to alarm and perplex many an 
 honest witness, without any effect in shaking the testimony; and 
 I afterwards, by a totally opposite mode of examination, such as 
 
LECT. I.] 
 
 PROFESSIONS ON THE CHARACTER. 
 
 25 
 
 would not have at all perplexed one wlio was honestly telling 
 the truth, that same witness was drawn on, step by step, to 
 acknowledge the utter falsity of the whole. Generally speaking 
 I believe that a quiet, gentle, and straightforward, though full 
 and careful, examination, will be the most adapted to elicit 
 truth ; and that the manoeuvres, and the brow-beating, which 
 are the most adapted to confuse an honest witness, are just what 
 the dishonest one is the best prepared for. The more the storm 
 blusters, the more carefully he wraps round him the cloak, 
 which a warm sunshine will often induce him to throw olfi." 
 
 I have thought it best, for the reasons formerly given, to 
 omit all notice of the advantages to be derived from each class 
 of professional pursuits, and to confine myself to the dangers 
 which are to be guarded against, and which consequently 
 require to be carefully contemplated. Even in respect of these, 
 however, I have been compelled, not only to omit many remarks 
 that will perhaps occur to your own minds, relative to each of 
 the Professions I have spoken of, but also to leave several of 
 the most important Professions wholly unnoticed, (the Military, 
 the Naval, the Mercantile, &c.) not from their not exercising 
 as important an influence, for good or evil, on the human mind, 
 as those which I have mentioned, but because I could not tres- 
 pass further on your patience; and also, because I conceive 
 that any one, in whatever walk of life, whose attention is so 
 awakened to that class of considerations which I have laid 
 before you, as to be put on the watch for the peculiar efiects on 
 hia own character likely to result from his own Profession, will 
 be induced to follow up the investigation for himself, to his own 
 practical benefit. 
 
 ' Rhetoric, Part I. Chap. II. § 4. 
 
LECTURE 11. 
 
 ON THE OEIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 A SUBJECT on which I have for many years bestowed con- 
 siderable attention, as appearing to me both very curious, and, 
 in many respects, highly important (much more so than many 
 suppose), is, the Origin of Civilisation. And I propose to lay 
 before you a small portion of the results of my researches, and 
 reflections thereupon ; which will, I trust, be found not un- 
 interesting or uninstructive. 
 
 Every one who is at all acquainted with works of ancient 
 history, or of voyages and travels, or who has conversed with 
 persons that have visited distant regions, must have been 
 greatly struck (if possessing at all a thoughtful and intelligent 
 mind) with the vast difference between civilised Man and the 
 savage. If you look to the very lowest and rudest races that 
 inhabit the earth, you behold Beings sunk almost to the level of 
 the brute-creation, and, in some points, even below the brutes. 
 Ignorant and thoughtless, gross in their tastes, filthy in their 
 habits, with the passions of men, but with the intellect of little 
 children, they roam, half-naked and half-starved, over districts 
 which might be made to support in plenty and in comfort 
 as many thousands of civilised Europeans as there are indi- 
 viduals in the savage tribe. And they are sunk, for the most 
 part, quite as low, morally, as they are intellectually. Poly- 
 gamy, in its most gross and revolting form, and infanticide, 
 prevail among most savage tribes ; and cannibalism among 
 many. And the sick or helplessly aged are usually abandoned 
 
LECT. II.] 
 
 ON THE ORiailT OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 27 
 
 by their relatives, to starve, or to be devoured by wild beasts. 
 Even in bodily person they differ greatly from the civilised 
 man. They are not only, in general, very ugly and ill-made, 
 but, in the structure of their limbs, and especially in the 
 head and face, they approach considerably to animals of the 
 ape tribe ; and the countenance is usually expressive of a 
 mixture of stupidity, ferocity, and something of suspiciousness 
 and low cunning. 
 
 If you compare together merely the very lowest of savages 
 and the most highly civilised specimens of the European races, 
 you will be at first inclined to doubt whether they can all 
 belong to the same Species. But though the very topmost 
 round of the ladder is at a vast distance from the ground, 
 there are numerous steps between them, each but a very little 
 removed from that next above and that next below it. The 
 savages whom we found in Van Diemen's Land, and of whom 
 there is now but a very small remnant, and others of the same 
 race, — the Papuan, — who are found widely scattered over the 
 South-eastern regions of the globe, — the people of Tierra del 
 Fuego, in the Southern extremity of America, — and again, 
 the Bushmen-Hottentots in the neighbourhood of the Cape 
 Colony (some specimens of whom were not long since exhibited 
 in this country), seem to be the lowest of savages. But one 
 might find specimens of the human race, to the number of 
 perhaps twenty or more, gradually ascending by successive 
 steps, from these, up to the most civilised nations upon the 
 earth ; each, not very far removed from the one below and the 
 one above it; though the two extremes present such a pro- 
 digious contrast. 
 
 As for the alleged advantages of savage life — the freedom 
 enjoyed by Man in a wild state, and the pure simplicity, and 
 innocence, and magnanimous generosity of character that he 
 exhibits — I need not, I trust, detain you by offering proofs 
 that all this exists only in poems and romances, and in the 
 imagination of their readers ; or in the theories of such philo- 
 sophers as the well-known Rousseau, who have undertaken to 
 
28 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 [leot. n. 
 
 maintain a monstrous paradox because it affords the best 
 exercise for their ingenuity, and who perhaps have ended in 
 being themselves bewildered by that very ingenuity of their 
 own, like a spider entangled in the web spun by herself. The 
 liberty enjoyed by the savage, consists in his being left free 
 to oppress and plunder any one who is weaker than himself, 
 and in being exposed to the same treatment from those who are 
 stronger. His boasted simplicity consists merely in grossness 
 of taste, improvidence, and ignorance. And his virtue merely 
 amounts to this, that though not less covetous, envious, 'and 
 malicious than civilised Man, he wants the skill to be as dan- 
 gerous as one of equally depraved character, but more intelligent 
 and better informed. 
 
 I have heard it remarked, however, by persons not destitute 
 of intelligence, as a presumption in favour of savage life, that 
 it has sometimes been voluntarily embraced by civilised men ; 
 while, on the other hand, it has seldom if ever happened that a 
 savage has consented to conform to civilised life. 
 
 But this is easily explained, even from the very inferiority 
 of the savage state. It is easier to sink than to rise. To lay 
 aside or lose what we have, is far easier than to acquire what 
 we have not. The savage has no taste for the enjoyments of 
 civilised life. Its pursuits and occupations are'what he wants 
 capacity to enjoy, or understand, or sympathise with. On the 
 other hand, the pursuits and gratifications (such as they are) 
 of the savage, are what the civilised man can fully understand 
 and partake of; and if he does but throw aside and disregard 
 the higher portion of his nature, he can enter heartily into 
 the enjoyments of a hunting tribe of wild Indians, whose 
 business is the same as the recreation of the sportsman, and 
 who alternate the labours of the chase with torpid repose and 
 sensual indulgence. 
 
 In short, the case is nearly the same as with the resem- 
 blance, and the distinction, between Man and the brute crea- 
 tures. Man is an animal as well as they. He has much in 
 common with them, and something more besides. Both have 
 
LECT. n.] 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 29 
 
 the same appetites, and many of the same passions ; but the 
 brutes lack most of the intellectual and moral faculties ; and 
 hence, a brute cannot be raised into a man, though it is 
 possible, as we too often find, for a man to sink himself nearly 
 into a brute, by giving himself up to mere animal gratifications, 
 and neglecting altogether the nobler and more properly human 
 portion of himself. 
 
 It may be worth remarking, before I quit this portion of 
 the subject, that persons not accustomed to accuracy of think- 
 ing, are often misled by the difierences of form, and conse- 
 quently of name, under which the same evils may be found in 
 difierent states of society ; and consequently are inclined to 
 suppose that others may be exempt from such vices and other 
 evils as prevail among ourselves, inasmuch as they cannot have 
 exactly the same under the same titles. Where there is no 
 property in land, for instance, there cannot be a grasping and 
 oppressive landlord ; where there is no trade, there can be no 
 bankrupts ; and where money is unknown, the love of money, 
 •which is our common designation of avarice, cannot exist. 
 And thence the unthinking are perhaps led to imagine that 
 avarice itself has no place in the savage state, and that oppi-es- 
 sion, and cruelty, and rapacity, and ruin, must be there un- 
 known. 
 
 But the savage is commonly found to be covetous, often 
 thievish, when his present inclination impels him towards any 
 objects he needs, or which his fancy is set on. He is not, 
 indeed, so steady, or so provident, in his pursuit of gain as the 
 civilised man; but this is from the general unsteadiness and 
 improvidence of his character; not from his being engrossed 
 by higher pursuits. What keeps him poor, in addition to in- 
 security of property and want of skill, is, not a philosophical 
 contempt of riches, but a love of sluggish torpor and of present 
 gratification. Lamentable as it is to see multitudes — as we 
 may among ourselves — of Beings of such high qualifications 
 and such high destination as Man, absorbed in the pursuit of 
 merely external and merely temporal objects, — occupied in 
 
30 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION, 
 
 [lect. n. 
 
 schemes for attaining worldly wealth and aggrandisement for 
 its own sake, and without reference to any higher object, — 
 ■we should remember that the savage is not above such a life, 
 but below it. It is not from preferring virtue to wealth, — the 
 goods of the mind to those of fortune, — the next world to the 
 present, — that he takes so little thought for the morrow ; but 
 from want of forethought, and of habitual self-control. The 
 civilised man too often directs these qualities to unworthy 
 objects ; the savage, universally, is deficient in the qualities 
 themselves. The one is a stream flowing too often in a wrong 
 channel, and which needs to have its course altered ; the other 
 is a stagnant pool. 
 
 Such is Man in what is commonly culled a" state of nature." 
 But it can hardly be called with propriety Man's "natural state ;" 
 since in it a large proportion of his faculties remain dormant and 
 undeveloped. A plant would not be said to be in its most natural 
 state when growing in a soil or climate that would not allow it 
 to put forth the flowers and the fruit for which its organisation 
 was destined. Any one who saw the pine-trees high up on the 
 Alps, when growing near the boundary of perpetual snow, 
 stunted to the height of two or three feet, and struggling to 
 exist amidst rock and ice, would hardly describe that as the 
 natural state of a tree which, in a more genial soil and climate 
 a little lower down, was found towering to the height of fifty or 
 sixty yards. In like manner, the natural state of Man must, 
 according to all fair analogy, be reckoned, not that in which 
 his intellectual and moral growth are as it were stunted and 
 permanently repressed, but one in which his original endow- 
 ments are — I do not say brought to perfection, but — enabled 
 to exercise themselves, and to expand like the foliage and 
 flowers of a plant ; and especially in which that characteristic 
 of our species, the tendency towards progressive improvement, 
 IS permitted to come into play. 
 
 If, however, Man is not to be reckoned in a perfectly natural 
 state when he has acquired anything from others, then, even the 
 savage would not answer to the definition ; since language, we 
 
LECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 31 
 
 all know, is a thing learnt ; and a child brought up (as it is 
 supposed some have been, who were lost, or purposely exposed 
 in infancy ) by a wild goat, or some other brute, and without 
 any intercourse with human creatures, would grow up speech- 
 less ; as we know those do who, being deaf-born, are precluded 
 from learning to speak. Now hardly any one would call dumb- 
 ness the natural state of Man. 
 
 The savage, then, is only so far in (comparatively) a state 
 of nature, that the arts which he learns and transmits to his 
 children are very few, and very rude. And yet it is remark- 
 able that in many respects savage life is decidedly more 
 artificial — more anti-natural — than the civilised. The most 
 elaborately dressed fine lady or gentleman has departed far less 
 from nature, than a savage of most of the rudest tribes we know 
 of. Most of these not only paint their skins with a variety of 
 fantastic colours, but tattoo them, or decorate their bodies 
 (which is the New Hollander's practice) with rows of large 
 artificial scars. The marriage ceremony among some of these 
 tribes is marked, not by putting a ring on the woman's finger, 
 but by cutting ofi" one of the joints of it. And in those same 
 tribes, every male, when approaching man's estate, is formally 
 admitted as coming of age, by the ceremony of having one of 
 his front teeth knocked out. Some of them wear a long orna- 
 ment of bone thrust through the middle cartilage of the nose, 
 so as to make the speech indistinct. Other tribes cut a slit in 
 the under lip, so as to make a sort of artificial second mouth, 
 in which they fix some kind of fantastic ornament. And some 
 tribes, again, artificially flatten,, by pressure, the forehead of 
 their infants, so as to bring the head even nearer than nature 
 has formed it, to a resemblance to that of a brute. 
 
 And their customs are not less artificial than their external 
 decorations. To take only one instance out of many : marriage, 
 among the most civilised nations of Europe, usually takes place 
 between persons who, living in the same society, and becoming 
 well-acquainted, contract a mutual liking for each other ; and 
 surely this is the most natural course: but among the Aus- 
 
32 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 [LECT. n. 
 
 tralian savages, such a marriage is unheard of, and would be 
 counted an abomination; a wife must always be taken, and 
 taken by force, from another, — generally a hostile tribe ; and 
 the intended bride must be dragged away with brutal violence 
 and most unmerciful blows. 
 
 Such is Man in what is called a state of nature ! 
 
 I have given a very brief and slight sketch of the diflferences 
 between the savage and the civilised condition ; but suflBcient, 
 I trust, for the present purpose. Those who may wish to 
 investigate the subject more fully, may find much interesting 
 and curious information on it, in a little book (written at 
 my suggestion) by the late Dr. Cooke Taylor, entitled The 
 Natural History of Society, What I have now been saying 
 was designed merely as a necessary introduction to the gi-eat 
 and interesting inquiry, How was civilisation oric/inally intro- 
 duced? Were the earliest generations of mankind savages? 
 And if so, how came any of our race ever to rise above that 
 condition ? 
 
 It has been very commonly taken for granted, not only by 
 writers among the ancient heathen, but by modern authors, that 
 the savage state was the original one, and that mankind, or 
 some portion of mankind, gradually raised themselves from it by 
 the unaided exercise of their own faculties. I say " taken for 
 granted," because one does not usually meet with any attempt 
 to establish this by proof, or even any distinct statement of it ; 
 but' it is assumed, as something about which there can be no 
 manner of doubt. You may hear plausible descriptions given 
 of a supposed race of savages subsisting on wild fruits, herbs, 
 and roots, and on the precarious supplies of hunting and fish- 
 ing ; and then, of the supposed process by which they emerged 
 from this state, and gradually invented the various arts of life, 
 till they became a decidedly civilised people. One man, it has 
 been supposed, wishing to save himself the trouble of roaming 
 through the woods in search of wild fruits and roots, would 
 bethink himself of collecting the seeds of these, and cultivating 
 them in a plot of ground cleared and broken up for the purpose. 
 
LECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 33 
 
 And finding that he could thus raise more than enough for him- 
 self, he might agree with some of his neighbours to exchange a 
 part of his produce for some of the game or fish taken by them. 
 Another man again, it has been supposed, would contrive to 
 save himself the labour and uncertainty of hunting, by catching 
 some kinds of wild animals alive, and keeping them in an 
 enclosure to bi-eed, that he might have a supply always at hand. 
 And again others, it is supposed, might devote themselves to 
 the occupation of dressing skins for clothing, or of building 
 huts or canoes, or of making bows and arrows, or various kinds 
 of tools ; each exchanging his productions with his neighbours 
 for food. And each, by devoting his attention to some one 
 kind of manufacture, would acquire increased skill in that, and 
 would strike out new inventions. 
 
 And thus these supposed savages, having in this way 
 become divided into husbandmen, shepherds, and artisans of 
 several kinds, would begin to enjoy the various advantages of 
 a " division of labour," and would advance, step by step, in all 
 the arts of civilised life. 
 
 Such descriptions as the above, of what it is supposed has 
 actually taken place, or of what possibly might take place, are 
 likely to appear plausible, at the first glance, to those who do 
 not inquire carefully and reflect attentively. But, on exami- 
 nation, all these suppositions will be found to be completely at 
 variance with all history, and inconsistent with the character of 
 such Beings as real savages actually are. Such a process of 
 inventions and improvements as that just described is what we 
 may safely say never did, and never possibly can, take place in 
 any tribe of savages left wholly to themselves. 
 
 As for the ancient Germans, and the Britons and Gauls, 
 all of whom we have pretty full accounts of in the works of 
 Cfesar and of Tacitus, they did indeed fall considerably short, in 
 civilisation, of the Greeks and Romans, who were accustomed 
 to comprehend under the one sweeping term of "barbarians" 
 all nations except themselves. But it would be absurd to 
 reckon as savages, nations which, according to the authors 
 
 W. E. D 
 
34 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 [lect. ii. 
 
 just mentioned, cultivated theii' land, kept cattle, employed 
 horses in their wars, and made use of metals for their -weapons 
 and other instruments. A people so far advanced as that, 
 would not be unlikely, under favourable circumstances, to 
 advance further still, and to attain, step by step, to a high 
 degree of civilisation. 
 
 But as for savages properly so styled — that is, people 
 sunk as low, or anything near as low, as many tribes that our 
 voyagers have made us acquainted with — there is no one 
 instance recorded of any of them rising into a civilised con- 
 dition, or, indeed, rising at all, without instruction and assist- 
 ance from people already civilised. We have numerous ac- 
 counts of various savage tribes, in different parts of the globe 
 — in hot countries and in cold, in fertile and in barren, in 
 maritime and in inland situations — who have been visited 
 from time to time, at considerable intervals, by navigators, but 
 have had no settled intercourse with civilised people ; and all 
 of them appear to have continued, from age to age, in the 
 same rude condition. Of the savages of Tierra del Fuego, 
 for instance, it is remarked by Mr. Darwin, the natui-alist 
 (who was in th« " Beagle " on its second voyage of discovery), 
 that they, " in one respect, resemble the brute animals, inas- 
 much as they make no improvements." As birds, for instance, 
 which have an instinct for building nests, build them, each 
 species, just as at first, after countless generations ; so it is, 
 says he, with these people. *' Their canoe, which is their 
 most skilful work of art — and a wretched canoe it is — is 
 exactly the same as 250 years ago." The New Zealanders, 
 again, whom Tasman first discovered in 1642, and who were 
 visited for the second time by Cook, 127 years after, were 
 found by him exactly in the same condition. And yet these 
 last were very far from- being in as low a state as the New 
 Hollanders ; for they cultivated the ground, raising crops of 
 the Cumera (or sweet potato), and clothed themselves, not 
 with skins, but with mats woven by themselves. Subsequently, 
 the country has, as you are aware, been made a British 
 
LECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 35 
 
 colony ; and though their first intercourse with Eui'opean 
 settlers was under the most unfavourable circumstances — many 
 of those who first cane among them being most worthless 
 characters, who were often engaged in bloody contests with 
 them — still the result has been that they have renounced can- 
 nibalism, and the greater part of them have become Christians, 
 reading the Bible in their own language, and fast adopting 
 European habits. Their own language, the Maori (that is 
 their own name of their nation), most of them can read and 
 write. And, besides the Bible, several little popular tracts 
 of mine have been translated into it, under the superintendence 
 of the late Governor, Sir George Grey, and are, he tells me, 
 eagerly read by them. 
 
 Then again, if we look to ancient historical records and 
 traditions concerning nations that are reported to have risen 
 from a savage to a civilised state, we find that in every instance 
 they appear to have had the advantage of the instruction 
 and example of civilised men living among them. They always 
 have some tradition of some foreigner, or some Being from 
 heaven, as having first taught them the arts of life. Thus, 
 the ancient Greeks attributed to Prometheus, a supposed super- 
 human Being, the introduction of the use of fire ; and they 
 represented Triptolemus, and Cadmus, and others, strangers 
 from a distant country, as introducing agriculture and other 
 arts. The Peruvians, again, have a like tradition respecting 
 a person they call Mancocapac, whom they represent as the 
 offspring of the sun, and as having taught useful arts to their 
 ancestors. If it be true, as I have heard, that the name 
 signifies in the Peruvian language " white," it is not unlikely 
 that he was a European, and that the fable of his descent from 
 the sun may have arisen from his pointing to the sun-rising — 
 the east — to indicate the country he came from. 
 
 But there is no need to inquire, even if we could do so 
 with any hope of success, what mixture there may be of truth 
 and fable in any of these traditions. For our present purpose 
 it is enough to have pointed out that they all agree in one 
 
 D 3 
 
36 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 [lect. n. 
 
 thing, in representing civilisation as having been introduced 
 (whenever it has been introduced) not from ivithin, but from 
 witJioiit. 
 
 We have, therefore, in this case all the proof that a nega- 
 tive admits of. In all the few instances in which there is 
 any record or tradition of a savage people becoming civilised, 
 we have a corresponding record or tradition of their having 
 been aided by instructors ; and in all the (very numerous) 
 cases we know of in which savages have been left to themselves, 
 they appear never to have advanced one step. The experi- 
 ment, as it may be called, has been going on in various 
 regions for many ages ; and it appears to have never once 
 succeeded. 
 
 Perhaps the fanciful and pleasing picture of savages raising 
 themselves into civilisation, which I just now put before you, 
 may appear so natural, that you may be disposed to wonder 
 why it should apparently have never been realised. When 
 you try to fancy yourself in the situation of a savage, it may 
 perhaps occur to you that you would set your mind to work to 
 contrive means for bettering your condition, and that you 
 might hit upon such and such useful and very obvious contri- 
 vances; and hence you may be led to think it natural that 
 savages should do so, and that some tribes of them may have 
 advanced themselves in the way above described, without any 
 external help. But what leads some persons to fancy this 
 possible (though it appears to have never really occurred) is, 
 that they themselves are not savages, but have some degree of 
 mental cultivation, and some of the habits of thought of civilised 
 men. And they imagine themselves merely destitute of the 
 knowledge of some things which they actually know ; but they 
 cannot succeed in divesting themselves, in imagination, of the 
 civilised character. And hence they form to themselves an 
 incori'ect notion of what a savage really is; just as a person 
 possessed of eyesight finds it difficult to understand correctly 
 the condition of one born blind. 
 
 Any one can easily judge, by simply shutting his eyes, 
 
lECT. n.] 
 
 ON THR ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 37 
 
 or going into a dark room, what it is to be blind ; and thence 
 he may be led to suppose that he understands — which is a far 
 different thing- — what it is to have been always blind. 
 
 When Bishop Berkeley demonstrated by mathematical 
 reasoning that a person born blind and acquiring sight (of 
 which, at that time, there was no actual instance),, would not 
 be able at first to distinguish by the eye the most dissimilar 
 objects — such as a cube and a globe — which he had been 
 accustomed to handle, he was considered as maintaining a 
 great paradox. Afterwards, when the operation of couching 
 for cataract had been successfully performed on a youth born 
 blind, the Bishop's demonstration was confirmed by the trial. 
 It was a considerable time before the lad could learn to distin- 
 guish, without handling, the dog and the cat, with which he 
 had long been familiar. 
 
 Now, the difficulty we have in fully understanding the con- 
 dition of one born blind, is similar to that of a civilised man in 
 representing to himself correctly the character of those wholly 
 uncivilised. Persons, however, who have actually seen much of 
 real savages, have observed that they are not only feeble in 
 mental powers, but also sluggish in the use of such powers as 
 they have, except when urged by pressing want. When not 
 thus urged, they pass their time in torpid inactivity, or else in 
 dancing,, and various childish sports,, or in decorating their 
 bodies with paint and with feathers, flowers, and shells. They 
 are not only brutishly stupid, but still more characterised by 
 childish thoughtlessness and improvidence; so that it never 
 occurs to them to reflect how they may put themselves in a 
 better condition a year or two hence. The New Hollanders, 
 for instance, roam about the woods and plains in search of some 
 few eatable roots which their country produces, and which they 
 laboriously dig up with sharpened sticks. But though they are 
 often half-starved, and though they have to expend as much toil 
 for three or four scanty meals of these roots as would suffice for 
 breaking up and planting a piece of ground that would supply 
 them for a year, it has never occurred to them to attempt culti- 
 
38 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. [legt. n. 
 
 vating these roots ; no, not even iivlien tliey have been near enough 
 to the settlers to see the operations of agriculture going on. 
 
 For, savages not only seem never to devise anything spon- 
 taneously, but moreover, the very lowest of them are so indocile, 
 that even when they do come within reach of the influence of 
 civilised men, it requires much skill, and very great patience, 
 and a considerable length of time, to bring them to avail them- 
 selves of the examples and instruction put before them. Defoe, 
 in his Rohinson Crusoe, though he does represent the Brazilian 
 savages as just such ignorant and ferocious Beings as they really 
 are, attributes to them a docility and an intelligence far beyond 
 the reality. He commits the mistake I was just now adverting 
 to, of representing the savage as wanting merely the knowledge 
 that is possessed by civilised men, and as not deficient in 
 the civilised character. And, accordingly, Crusoe's man 
 Friday, and the other savages who are brought among the 
 Europeans, are represented as receiving civilisation far more 
 speedily and far more completely than the actual Brazilian 
 savages, or any others like them, ever have done, in the first 
 generation. 
 
 The original condition of those savages was lower than that 
 of the New Zealanders ; and yet he has allotted hardly so many 
 months for their civilisation as it took years to bring the New 
 Zealanders, under the most careful and laborious training, up to 
 the same point. If Defoe had represented his savages with the 
 stupidity, indocility, and inattention, which really characterise 
 such races, and had, accordingly, made their advancement far 
 slower, and more imperfect, than he has, he would have been 
 more true to nature, but would probably have appeared to most 
 readers less natural than he does ; because most readers have 
 formed precisely the same erroneous conception of the savage 
 character, as himself^ 
 
 ' A few years ago, some tales ac- 
 quired considerable popularity, of which 
 the scenes were laid in Ireland, and in 
 the West Indies. The descriptions were 
 
 vivid and striking, and the stories well 
 got up. And though the representations 
 given were perceived, by those really 
 acquainted with those countries re- 
 
LECT, n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 89 
 
 Since it appears, then, a complete moral certainty that men 
 left unassisted in what is called a state of nature, — that is, with 
 the faculties Man is born with not at all unfolded or exercised 
 by education ,^never did, and never can, raise themselves from 
 that condition : the question next arising is. When and how did 
 civilisation first originate ? How comes it that the whole world 
 is not peopled exclusively with savages ? 
 
 Such would evidently have been the case if the human race 
 had always from the first been left without any instruction from 
 some superior Being, and yet had been able to subsist at all. 
 But there is strong reason to doubt whether even this bare sub- 
 sistence would have been possible. It is most likely that the 
 first generation would all have perished for want of that scanty 
 knowledge, and those few rude arts which even savages possess, 
 and which probably did not originate with them (for savages 
 seem never to discover or invent anything), but are remnants 
 which they have retained from a more civilised state. The 
 knowledge, for instance, of wholesome and of poisonous roots 
 and fruits, the arts of making fish-hooks and nets, bows and 
 arrows, or darts, and snares for wild animals, and of construct- 
 ing rude huts and canoes, with tools made of sharp stones, and 
 some other such simple arts, are possessed more or less by all 
 savages ; and are necessary to enable them to support life. And 
 men left wholly untaught would probably all perish before they 
 could acquire for themselves this absolutely indispensable 
 knowledge. 
 
 For, Man, we should remember, is, when left wholly un- 
 taught, far less fitted for supporting and taking care of himself 
 than the brutes. These are far better provided both with 
 instincts and with bodily organs, for supplying their own wants. 
 
 spectiTely, to be as wide of the reality as 
 the figures of lions and elephants on 
 Chinese porcelain, this formed no ob- 
 jection to ninety-nine hundredths of the 
 readers, who were as ignorant of the 
 true state of things as the writer, and 
 had probably formed similar miscon- 
 
 ceptions. And a really correct repre- 
 sentation would probably have been less 
 approved than the one given. The " live 
 pig " — according to the well-known Fa- 
 ble — would have been judged by the 
 audience to squeak less naturally than 
 the imitator. 
 
40 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION, 
 
 [lect. rr. 
 
 For instance, those animals that have occasion to dig either for 
 food, or to make burrows for shelter, such as the swine, the 
 mole, the hedgehog, and the rabbit, have both an instinct for 
 digging, and also snouts or paws far better adapted for that 
 purpose than Man's hands. Yet Man is enabled to turn up the 
 ground much better than any brute ; but then, this is by the 
 use of spades and other tools, -which Man can learn to make and 
 use, while brutes cannot. 
 
 Again, birds and bees have an instinct for building such 
 nests and cells as answer their purpose as well as the most 
 commodious houses and beds made by men ; but Man has no 
 instinct that teaches him how to construct these. 
 
 Brutes, again, know by instinct their proper food, and 
 avoid -what is unwholesome ; but Man has no instinct for dis- 
 tinguishing from wholesome fruits the berry of the deadly- 
 nightshade, with which children have often been poisoned, as 
 it has no ill smell, and tastes sweet. And, again, almost all 
 quadrupeds swim by nature, because their swimming is the 
 same motion by which they walk on land ; but a man falling 
 into deep water is drowned, unless he has learnt to swim, by 
 an action quite different from that of his walking. 
 
 It is very doubtful, therefore (to say the least), whether 
 men left wholly untaught would be able to subsist at all, even 
 in the condition of the very lowest savages. But at any rate 
 it is plain they could never have risen alove that state. If it 
 be supposed — and this is one of the many bold conjectures that 
 have been thrown out — that Man was formerly endowed with 
 many instincts such as those of the brute creation, which 
 instincts were afterwards obliterated and lost through civilisa- 
 tion, then the human race might have subsisted in the savage 
 state ; but we should all have been savages to this day. How 
 comes it, then, that all mankind are not at this day as wild as 
 the Pupuans and Hottentot-Bushmen ? According to the pre- 
 sent course of things, the first introducer of civilisation among 
 savages, is, and must be, Man in a more improved state ; iu 
 1 the beginning, therefore, of the human race, this, since there 
 
LECT. II.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 41 
 
 was no man to effect it, must have been the work of another 
 Being. There must have been, in short, something of a 
 REVELATION made, to the first, or to some subsequent 
 generation, of our species. And this miracle (for such it 
 
 'clearly is, being out of the present course of nature) is attested 
 independently of Scripture, and consequently in confirmation of 
 the Scripture-accounts, by the fact that civilised Man exists at 
 the present day. Each one of us Europeans, whether Christian, 
 Deist, or Atheist, is actually a portion of a standing monument 
 of a former communication to mankind from some superhuman 
 Being. That Man could not have made himself, is often 
 appealed to as a proof of the agency of a divine Creator ; and 
 that mankind could not, in the first instance, have civilised 
 themselves, is a proof of the same kind, and of precisely equal 
 strength, of the agency of a divine Instructor. 
 
 It will have occurred to you, no doubt, that the conclusions 
 we have arrived at, agree precisely with what is recorded in 
 the oldest book extant. The Book of Genesis represents man- 
 kind as originally existing in a condition which, though far 
 
 . from being highly civilised, was very far removed from that 
 of savages. It describes Man as not having been, like the 
 brutes, left to provide for himself by his innate bodily and 
 mental faculties, but as having received at first some immediate 
 divine communications and iristructions. And so early, accord- 
 ing to this record, was the division of labour, that, of the first 
 two men who were born of woman, one is described as a tiller 
 of the ground, and the other as a keeper of cattle. But I have 
 been careful, as you must have observed, to avoid appealing, 
 in the outset, to the Bible as an authority, because I have 
 thought it important to show, independently of that authority, 
 and from a monument actually before our eyes, — the existence 
 of civilised Man — that there is no escaping such conclusions as 
 agree with the Bible narrative. There are at the present day, 
 philosophers, so-called, some of whom make boastful pre- 
 tensions to science, and undertake to trace the Vestiges of 
 Creation ; and some who assume that no miracle can ever have 
 
42 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. [lecx. n. 
 
 taken place, and that the idea of what they call a " book- 
 revelation " is an absurdity ; and these you cannot meet by an 
 appeal to our Scriptures. But if you call upon them to show 
 how the existing state of things can have come about loithout 
 a miracle and without a revelation, you will find them (as I 
 can assert from experience) greatly at a loss. 
 
 It is alleged by one of these philosophers, that " some 
 writers have represented the earliest generations of mankind 
 as in a high state of civilisation ;" and he adds that, " this 
 doctrine has been maintained from a desire to confirm Scrip- 
 ture-history." He does not, however, cite, or refer to any 
 such writers; and there is reason to think that none such 
 ever existed, and that the whole is a complete mis-statement, 
 either from error of memory, or from some other cause ; for, 
 this at least is certain, that no one could possibly have been 
 led, by a desire of confirming Scripture-history, to attribute high 
 civilisation to the first generations of men ; since this would go 
 to contradict Scripture-history. The author in question, if he 
 is at all acquainted with Scripture-history, must know, that, 
 according to that, mankind were originally in so very humble 
 a degree of civilisation, that even the use of metals appears to 
 have been introduced only in the seventh generation. 
 
 But though the earliest generations of mankind were, as 
 has been said, in a condition far short of what can be called 
 "high civilisation," and had received only very limited, and 
 what may be called elementary instruction, enough merely to 
 enable them to make further advances afterwards, by the 
 exercise of their natural powers — some such instruction (we 
 liave seen) they must have received, because without it, either 
 the whole race would have perished — which is far the most 
 probable, — or at best, the world would have been peopled at 
 this day with none but the wildest savages. For, all experience 
 proves that men left in the lowest, or even anything approach- 
 ing to the lowest, degree of barbarism in which they can 
 possibly subsist at all, never did and never can raise them- 
 selves, unaided, into a higher condition. But when men have 
 
LECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 43 
 
 once reached a certain stage in the advance towards civilisation, 
 it is then possible for them (under favourable circumstances, 
 and if wars or other calamities do not occur to keep them 
 back) to advance further and further in the same direction. 
 Human society, in short, may be compared to some combustible 
 substances which will never take fire spontaneously, but when 
 once set on fire, will burn with continually increasing strength. 
 A community of men requires, as it were, to be kindled, and 
 requires no more. 
 
 In this, as in many other matters, it is the first step that is 
 the difiBculty. Though it maybe in itself but a small step, and 
 one which would be easy if it were the second and not the first, 
 its being the first makes it both the most important and the most 
 difficult. 
 
 Although I wish to rest my conclusions, not on the 
 authority of other writers, but on well-established facts and 
 conclusive arguments, I think it will not be out of place to 
 advert to the opinions of some authors of high repute, whose 
 views on the subject I had no knowledge of when mine were 
 first formed. 
 
 *' The important question," says the celebrated Humboldt, 
 " has not yet been resolved, whether that savage state, which 
 even in America is found in various gradations, is to be looked 
 upon as the dawning of a society about to rise, or whether it is 
 not rather the fading remains of one sinking amidst storms, 
 overthrown and shattered by overwhelming catastrophes. To 
 me the latter seems to be nearer the truth than the former." 
 
 The famous historian Niebhur also is recorded (not in any 
 publication of his own, but in published reminiscences of his 
 conversation with a friend) to have strongly expressed his full 
 conviction that all savages are the degenerated remnants of 
 more civilised races, which had been overpowered by enemies, 
 and driven to take refuge in woods (whence the name " silvag- 
 gio," savage), and there to wander, seeking a precarious sub- 
 sistence, till they had forgotten most of the arts of settled life, 
 and sunk into a wild state. 
 
44 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OP CIVILISATION. [lect. n. 
 
 It is remarkable, however, that neither of these eminent 
 men seem to have thought of the inference, though they were 
 •within one step of it, that the first beginnings of civilisation 
 must have come from a superhuman instructor. 
 
 Not so, however. President Smith, of the College of New 
 Jersey, United States. In an Essay on the diversity of the 
 Human Species, after saying that the savage state cannot have 
 been that of the earliest generations, and that such a supposi- 
 tion is contrary to sound reason and to all history, he expresses 
 his conviction not only that savage tribes have degenerated 
 from more civilised, but that life, even in the savage state, could 
 not have been preserved, if the first generation had been wholly 
 untaught. " Hardly is it possible," says he, " that Man placed 
 on the surface of the world, in the midst of its forests and 
 marshes, capable of reason indeed, but without having formed 
 principles to direct its exercise, should have been able to pre- 
 serve his existence, unless he had received from his Creator, 
 along with his being, some instructions-concerning the employ- 
 ment of his faculties, for procuring his subsistence and invent- 
 ing the most necessary arts of life. . . . Nature has 
 furnished the inferior animals with many and powerful instincts 
 to direct them in the choice of their food, &c. But Man must 
 have been the most forlorn of all creatures ; . . . cast out, 
 as an orphan of nature, naked and helpless, he must have 
 perished before he could have learned to supply his most im- 
 mediate and urgent wants." 
 
 The views of President Smith coincide, you will perceive, 
 very closely with those put forth by me ; though I never heard 
 of his work till long after. 
 
 But these views are, as you may suppose, very unacceptable 
 to certain classes of writers. And they have accordingly made 
 vehement but fruitless efforts to evade the force of the argu- 
 ments adduced. They contend against what they call the theory 
 maintained, and set themselves to meet the arguments which 
 prove it unlikely that savages should civilise themselves ; but 
 ) they can not get over the fact, that savages never have done 
 
XECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 45 
 
 80. Now, that they never caw, is a theory ; and something may 
 always be said — well or ill — against any theory, whether sound 
 or unsound ; but fads are stubborn things : and that no authen- 
 ticated instance can be produced of savages that ever did emerge, 
 unaided, from that state, is no theory ; but a statement, hitherto 
 never disproved, of a matter of fact. 
 
 It has been urged, among other things, that no art can be 
 pointed out which Man may not by his natural powers have in- 
 vented. Now, no one, as far as I know, ever maintained that 
 there is any such art. I myself believe there is none that Man 
 may not have invented, supposing him to have a certain degi'ee 
 of mental cultivation to start from. But as for any art — much 
 less all the arts — being invented by savages, none of whom can 
 be proved to have ever invented anything, that is quite a dif- 
 ferent question. The fallacy here employed, which is called in 
 logical language the " Fallacy of Composition," consists in 
 taking a term first in the divided sense, and then in the col- 
 lective sense. This art, and that, and the other, &c. — each 
 taken separately — is not beyond the power of Man to invent : 
 all the arts are this, that, and the other, &c. taken collectively : 
 therefore, all may have been originally invented by unaided Man. 
 In like manner, there is no one angle and no one side of a 
 triangle that may not be discovered if we have certain data to 
 start from. Given, two sides and the contained angle, we can 
 ascertain the remaining side and the other angles. Or again, 
 if we know one side and two angles, we can discover the rest. 
 But it would be a new sort of trigonometry that could discover 
 all the three angles and three sides without any data at aU. 
 
 One other of the arguments — so called — in disproof of the 
 possibility of Man's having ever received any communications 
 from a Superior Being, I will notice, merely to show what des- 
 perate straits our opponents are reduced to. A writer in the 
 Westminster Review assumes, on very insufiBcient grounds, 
 from a passage in the book of Chronicles, that the Jews in 
 Solomon's time supposed the diameter of a circle to be exactly 
 one-third of the circumference, instead of being, as it is, rather 
 
46 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OP CIVILISATION. 
 
 [LECT. II. 
 
 less than seven twenty-firsts, though more than seven twenty- 
 seconds. I say on " insufficient grounds " does he infer this 
 ignorance, because it might just as well be inferred that every 
 one who speaks of the sun's setting, supposes that the sun 
 actually moves round the earth ; and that when we speak of a 
 road laid down in a straight line from one town to another, we 
 must be ignorant that the earth is a sphere, and that conse- 
 quently there cannot be a perfectly straight line on its surface. 
 But let this pass. The inference drawn is, that, since the Jews 
 had so imperfect a knowledge of mathematics, therefore, mankind 
 could never have received from above, any instruction whatever, 
 even in the simplest arts of life ; and that, consequently, all 
 civilised nations must have risen to that condition unaided, from 
 the state of the lowest savages ; though all history, and all our 
 experience of what takes place at the present day, attests the 
 contrary ! Now when a writer, evidently not destitute of in- 
 telligence, is driven to argue in this manner, j'ou may judge 
 how hard pressed he must feel himself. 
 
 I was conversing once on the present subject with an intelli- 
 gent person, a great student of phrenology, who was inclined 
 to attribute the stationary condition of savages to their defective 
 cerebral development, and to conjecture that a number of people 
 with well-formed brain, might, without any instruction, acquire 
 the arts of life, and civilise themselves. 
 
 Now there is, indeed, no doubt that the very lowest savage 
 tribes — such as the Pupuans and Fuegians — have a very de- 
 fective formation of head ; but this I was disposed to regard as 
 the effect, not the cause, of their having lived in a wild state for 
 a vast many generations. For, the cerebral organs, — as my 
 friend himself fully admitted, — are, like other parts of the body, 
 developed and strengthened by being exercised, and impaired 
 and shrunk by inactivity. But some tribes, I remarked to him, 
 who are considerably above the very rudest of all (as for in- 
 stance the New Zealanders), have a conformation of head little 
 if at all inferior to the European ; and yet the New Zealanders, 
 though they accordingly have proved incomparably more docile, 
 
LECT. II.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 47 
 
 and capable of advancement, than the more degraded races, 
 were, nevertheless (as -^ve have seen), incapable, when left to 
 themselves, of advancing a single step. And this instance he 
 was compelled to admit as decisive. 
 
 Among the many random guesses that have been thrown out 
 on this subject, one that I have heard is, that perhaps there may 
 have been two races, — two distinct Varieties, or rather two 
 widely different Species, of Man ; the one capable of self-civili- 
 sation, the other, not, though capable of being taught. This is 
 a sufficiently bold conjecture, being not supported by any par- 
 ticle of evidence; and yet, after all, it answers no purpose. 
 For, this wonderful endowment, the self-civilising power, if ever 
 it were bestowed on any portion of mankind, seems to have been 
 bestowed in vain, and never to have been called into play; 
 since, as far as we can learn, no savage tribe does appear, in 
 point of fact, to have ever civilised themselves. 
 
 Of late years, however, an attempt has been made to revive 
 Lamarck's theory of development. He was a French naturalist 
 who maintained the spontaneous transition of one Species into 
 another of a higher character ; the lowest animalcules having, it 
 seems, in many generations ripened into fish, thence into 
 reptiles, beasts, and men. And it is truly wonderful what a 
 degree of popularity has been attained by this theory, consider- 
 ing that it is supported altogether by groundless conjectures, 
 mis-statements of facts, and inconclusive reasoning. But its 
 advocates found it necessary to assail somehow or other the 
 position I have been maintaining, which is fatal to their whole 
 scheme. The view we have taken of the condition of savages 
 " breaks the water-pitcher " (as the Greek proverb expresses it) 
 " at the very threshold." Supposing the animalcule safely con- 
 ducted, by a series of bold conjectures, through the several 
 transmutations, till from an ape it became a man, there is, as 
 we have seen, a failure at the last stage of all ; — an insurmount- 
 able difficulty in the final step from the savage to the civilised 
 man. 
 
 It became necessary, therefore, to accept the challenge pro- 
 
48 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. [lect. n. 
 
 posed, and to find a race of savages -who had, unassisted, civilised 
 themselves ; and the case produced was that of a tribe of North 
 Americans called the Mandans. These are described in a work 
 by Mr. Catlin, who visited them, as living in a walled town, 
 instead of the open defenceless hamlets of the other tribes, and 
 as exercising some arts unknown to their more barbarian neigh- 
 bours. These latter, not long ago, fell upon them when greatly 
 thinned by the ravages of the small-pox, and totally extirpated 
 the small remnant of the tribe. 
 
 Now, when this case was brought forward, one naturally 
 expected that some proof would be attempted— (1), that these 
 Mandans had been in as savage a condition as the neighbouring 
 tribes ; and (2), that they had, unaided, raised themselves from 
 it. But all this, which is the only j^oint at issue, instead of 
 being proved, is coolly taken for (/ranted. Not the least attempt 
 is made to prove that the Mandans are originally of the same 
 race with their neighbouring tribes. It is simply taken for 
 granted ; though Mr. Catlin himself, who was intimately 
 acquainted with both, gives strong reasons for the contrary 
 opinion. No proof, again, is olFered that they ever were in as 
 rude a condition as those other tribes; it is coolly assumed. 
 No proof is ofi"ered that their ancestors never received any in- 
 struction, at a remote period, from European or other strangers ; 
 it is merely taken for granted. And this procedure is boast- 
 fully put forward as " Science !" The science which consists in 
 simply begging the question, is certainly neither Aristotelian 
 nor Baconian Science. 
 
 But in an article in the Edinlurgh Revieio, on Mr. 
 Catlin's book, we are told that the more advanced condition of 
 these Mandans is to be attributed to their living in a fortified 
 town, by which means they enjoyed leisure and security for 
 cultivating the arts of peace. Now, if they had chanced to 
 light on a spot fortified naturallt/, by steep precipices, or the 
 like, the cause assigned would at least have been something 
 intelligible. But the wall which fortified the city of these 
 Mandans was built (which the critic seems to have forgotten) 
 
UECT. II.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 49 
 
 by themselves. And when we are gravely told that it is a very 
 easy thing for the wildest savages to civilise themselves and 
 learn the arts of life, for, that they have only to legin by build- 
 ing themselves a luell-fortijied town, it is impossible to avoid 
 being reminded of the trick by which little children are deluded, 
 who are told that they can easily catch a bird if they do but 
 put salt on its tail. 
 
 But reviewers, being for the most part secure from being 
 themselves reviewed, sometimes put forward such statements 
 and such arguments as they would unmercifully criticise if 
 appearing in the work of any other author. Suppose, for in- 
 stance, some author maintaining that the intellectual culture of 
 the Europeans is to be traced entirely to their having access to 
 Libraries and Museums ; you may imagine with what unsparing 
 ridicule he would be visited by the reviewers, who would remind 
 him, that though Libraries and Museums do certainly con- 
 tribute greatly to a nation's enlightenment, yet, as they do not 
 fall from the sky, but are the work of the very people them, 
 selves, such a people must have something of intellectual culture 
 to begin with, and cannot owe every thing to what they have 
 themselves produced. Or again, suppose a people of remarkably 
 cleanly habits to be living in the midst of tribes that were 
 abominably filthy, what would be thought of a person who 
 should say, " their superior cleanliness may be accounted for by 
 their use of soap Soap is, no doubt, a great purifier ; but if 
 they had been originally quite careless of cleanliness, how came 
 they to think of making and using soap ? 
 
 These Man dans, however, says the reviewer, were driven by 
 " necessity'''' to fortify themselves, in order to protect themselves 
 from the neighbouring hostile tribes. But necessity is not 
 " the mother of invention" except to those who have some 
 degree of thoughtfulness and intelligence. To the mere savage 
 she rarely if ever teaches anything. And of this there cannot 
 be a stronger proof than that which the reviewer had, as it were, 
 just before his eyes, and yet overlooked. He forgot that those 
 other tribes, generally at war with each other, and therefore 
 w. E. E 
 
60 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. [lect. ii. 
 
 pressed by the very same necessity, yet continued to dwell in 
 open villages, where they are accordingly from time to time 
 surprised or overpowered by their enemies, and have never 
 thought of fortifying themselves ; no, not when they had before 
 their eyes the example of the Mandans, which they had not the 
 sense to copy ! 
 
 It appears, then, that all the attempts made to assail our 
 position have served only to furnish fresh and fresh proofs that 
 it is perfectly impregnable. That some communication to Man 
 from a Superior Being — in other words, some kind of Revela- 
 tion — must at some time or other have taken place, is estab- 
 lished, independently of all historical documents, in the Bible 
 or elsewhere, by a standing monument which is before our eyes, 
 the existence of civilised man at this day. 
 
 And the establishing of this is the most complete discom- 
 fiture of the adversaries of our religion, because it cuts away 
 the ground from under their feet. For, you will hardly meet 
 with any one who admits that there fias been some distinct 
 Revelation, properly so called, given to Man, and yet denies 
 that that revelation is to be found in our Bible. On the con- 
 trary, all "who deny the divine authority of the Bible, almost 
 always set out with assuming, or attempting to prove, the 
 abstract impossibility of any revelation whatever, or any miracle, 
 in the ordinary sense of these words : and then it is that they 
 proceed to muster their objections against Christianity in par- 
 ticular. But I trust you have seen that we may advance 
 and meet them at once in the open field, and overthrow them at 
 the first step, before they approach our citadel; by proving 
 that what they set out with denying is what must have taken 
 place, and that they are, in their own persons, a portion of 
 the monument of its occurrence. And the establishing of this, 
 as it takes away the very ground first occupied by the opponents 
 of our Faith, so it is an important preliminary step for our pro- 
 ceeding, in the next place, to the particular evidence for that 
 faith. Once fully convinced that God must at some time or 
 other have made some direct communication to Man, and that 
 
LECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 51 
 
 even those who dislike this conclusion strive in vain to escape 
 it, we are thus the better prepared for duly estimating the 
 proofs that the Gospel is in truth a divine message. 
 
 It is not, however, solely, or even chiefly, for the sake of 
 furnishing a refutation of objectors, in case you should ever 
 chance to meet with any, or even of satisfying doubters, that I 
 have put these views before you ; though no one can think this 
 an unimportant matter who remembers that we are solemnly 
 charged to be " always ready to give to every one that asketh 
 us a reason for the hope that is in us ;" but beyond this, it 
 must be both highly useful and highly gratifying to a rightly- 
 minded Christian to contemplate and dwell upon all the many 
 marks of truth stamped on a Revelation which he not only 
 acknowledges, but deeply venerates and heartily loves. 
 
 It may, therefore, seem, to some persons, strange that any 
 kind of apology should be olfered for calling attention to an 
 important evidence of Christianity. But certain it is that 
 there are not a few Christians who consider that there is the 
 more virtue in their faith the less rational ground they have 
 for it, and the less they inquire for any. They acknowledge, 
 indeed, the necessity, for the conversion of pagans and the 
 refutation of infidels, of being prepared to oifer some proofs 
 of the truth of our religion. But while they acknowledge this 
 necessity, they lament it ; because it appears to them that to 
 offer proof of anything is to admit it to be doubtful ; and to 
 produce answers to objections, implies listening to objections ; 
 which is painful to their feelings. They wish, therefore, that 
 all those who actually are believers in what they have been told, 
 simply because they have been told it, should be left in that 
 state of tranquil acquiescence, without having their minds 
 " unsettled " (that is the phrase employed) by any attempt to 
 give them reasons for being convinced of that which they are 
 already convinced of, or at least have carelessly assented to. 
 And with respect to Ireland in particular, I have known both 
 Roman Catholics and Protestants allege, that though in 
 England there may be need to take some precautions against 
 
 E 3 
 
62 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. [lect. u. 
 
 infidelity, in this country no such thing exists, nor is there any 
 danger of its appearing. Those who spoke so must have either 
 been very ignorant of the real state of things, or must have 
 calculated on their hearers being so. But even supposing such 
 were the fact, it surely is doing no great honour to our religion, 
 to prefer that it should be believed exactly on the same grounds 
 that the Hindu and Chinese Pagans believe in the abominable 
 absurdities of their mythology, which they embrace without 
 inquiry and without hesitation, simply as being the religion 
 of their fathers. It is not thus that men proceed in other 
 matters. If, for instance, there is some illustrious Statesman 
 or General whom they greatly admire, they are never weary of 
 inquiring for, and listening to, fresh and fresh details of his 
 exploits, of the diflSculties he has surmounted, and the enter- 
 prises in which he has succeeded ; which are all so many proofs 
 of his superior wisdom and energy ; proofs not needed to satisfy 
 any doubts in their minds, but which yet they delight to bring 
 forward and contemplate, on account of the very admiration 
 they feel. So, also, they delight to mark and dwell on the con- 
 stantly recurring proofs of the excellent and amiable qualities 
 of some highly valued friend; to observe the contrast his 
 character presents to that of vain pretenders ; and how every 
 attempt of enemies to blemish his reputation serves only to 
 make his virtues the more conspicuous. 
 
 Should it not then be also delightful to a sincere Christian 
 to mark, in like manner, the numberless proofs which present 
 themselves, that the religion he professes is not from Man but 
 from God, — to note the contrast it presents to all false religions 
 devised by human folly or cunning,— and to observe how all 
 attempts to shake the evidence of it, tend, sooner or later, to 
 confirm it ? 
 
 But there are some who go a great deal further than those 
 I have just been alluding to. There are persons professing to 
 believe in Christianity, and to be anxious for its support, who 
 deprecate altogether any appeal to evidence for it, as likely 
 to lead not to conviction, but to doubt or disbelief. A writer 
 
i.ECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OP CIVILISATION. 
 
 53 
 
 for instance, in a Periodical now dropped, but which had a 
 great circulation among a certain party, and seems to have 
 exercised no small influence, maintains distinctly, and with 
 great vehemence, that our " belief ought to rest not on argu- 
 ment, but on faith ;" that is, on itself : and that an ignorant 
 clown who believes what he is told, simply because he is 
 told it, (which is precisely the foundation of the belief of the 
 ancient heathens who worshipped the great goddess Diana, and 
 of the Hindu idolaters of the present day,) has a " far letter 
 ground for his faith than anything that has ever been produced 
 by such authors as Grotius, and Paley, and Sumner, and 
 Chalmers ;" that is, that the reasons which have convinced the 
 most intelligent minds, are inferior to that which is confessedly 
 and notoriously good for nothing ! 
 
 A writer, again, in another Periodical, deprecates and de- 
 rides all appeal to evidence in support of our faith, and censures 
 Baxter (whose life he was reviewing) for having written on the 
 subject, because the result, he assures us, will be " either our 
 yielding a credulous and therefore infirm assent, or reposing in 
 a self-sufficient and far more hazardous incredulity." And he 
 remarks, that the sacred writers " have none of the timidity of 
 their modern apologists, but authoritatively denounce unbelief 
 as guilt, and insist on faith as a virtue of the highest order." 
 The faith, according to him, which the Apostles insisted on, 
 was belief without any grounds for it being set forth. Had it 
 been so, we should never have heard of Christianity at this 
 day ; for men could not have been bullied by mere authoritative 
 denunciations of guilt — coming from a few Jewish fishermen 
 and peasants, and resting on their bare word — into renouncing 
 the religion of their ancestors, in defiance of all the persecutions 
 of all their rulers and neighbours. 
 
 Timid, however, and credulous, according to the peculiar 
 language of this writer, the apostles and their converts certainly 
 were, since he uses these words to denote exactly the opposite 
 of what every one else understands by them. A person is 
 usually called " credulous," not for believing something for 
 
64 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. [lect. ll. 
 
 good reasons, but, on the contrary, for believing without evi- 
 dence, or against evidence. And those are generally considered 
 as " timorous " who shrinh from inquiry, and deprecate as 
 " hazardous " all appeal to evidence ; not those who boldly 
 court inquiry and bring forward strong reasons, which they 
 challenge every one either to admit or to answer, or else to 
 stand convicted of perversity. 
 
 And this is what our Lord and his Apostles did. They do, 
 indeed, inculcate faith as a virtue, and denounce unbelief as 
 sin; but on what grounds do they so? Because, says our 
 Lord, "if I had not done among them the works which 
 NONE OTHER MAN DID, they had not hud sin-" because the 
 Apostles appealed to the resurrection of Jesus, of which they 
 were eye witnesses, and to the " many infallible proofs " — the 
 " signs of an Apostle," as they called them — consisting of the 
 miracles wrought by themselves ; and because they made un- 
 answerable appeals to the ancient prophecies, " proving by the 
 Scriptures that Jesus is the Christ." 
 
 To maintain, in the face of the whole New-Testament-his- 
 tory, which is in most people's hands, and which many know 
 almost by heart, that the Apostles demanded faith without offer- 
 ing any reason for it, is an instance of audacity quite astonish- 
 ing. And not less wonderful is it that any rational Being 
 should be found, who can imagine that men's minds can best be 
 satisfied by proclaiming that inquiry is hazardous. If there 
 were any college, hospital, workhouse, asylum, or other institu- 
 tion, whose managers and patrons assured us that it was well 
 conducted, but that inspection was much to be deprecated, be- 
 cause it would probably lead to the conviction that the institu- 
 tion was full of abuses, I need not say what inference would be 
 drawn. 
 
 And when we are told that it shows '■^timidity" (of all 
 things ! ) to court investigation, and to defy disproof, we may be 
 reminded of an anecdote told of some British troops, who were 
 acting along with some North American Indians as their allies. 
 When attacked by a hostile force, the Indians, according to 
 
LECT. n.] ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION, 
 
 55 
 
 custom, ran off and sheltered themselves behind trees, while the 
 British stood firm under a heavy fire, and repulsed the enemy. 
 It was expected that their Indian friends would have admired 
 their superior valour. But their interpretation of the matter was 
 — that the British were too much frightened to run away ! They 
 thought them such bad warriors as to have been utterly 
 paralysed by terror, and to have not had sufficient presence of 
 mind to provide for their safety ! 
 
 More recently, a writer in another Periodical attributes the 
 infidelity of Gibbon (a life of whom he is reviewing) to his hav- 
 ing studied the Evidences of Christianity ! And he derides with 
 the utmost scorn the extreme folly of those who teach young 
 persons to " give a reason of the hope that is in them," or who 
 even tell them that it is true, or allow them to know that its 
 truth has ever been doubted ; which is a sure way, he maintains, 
 to make them disbelieve it ! 
 
 Such writers as these must either be themselves marvellously 
 ignorant, or must trust to their readers being so, not only of 
 Scripture, but of all history, ancient and modern. For, no one 
 can read the New Testament (attending at all to the sense of 
 what he reads) without learning that " some believed the 
 things that were spoken by Paul, and some believed not ;" and 
 that this was what took place everywhere, among both Jews 
 and Gentiles, And the like takes place still, and must be 
 known ; since people cannot, in these days, be so completely 
 debarred from all knowledge of history as not to hear of the 
 French at the Revolution abjuring Christianity, and of multi- 
 tudes of their priests professing unbelief. 
 
 The passages I have referred to are, I am sorry to say, only 
 a few out of many, and have been noticed merely as specimens. 
 Many more might have been produced, in the same tone, some 
 of them from authors of considerable repute. 
 
 It is to be wished that such writers, if they really have that 
 regard for Christianity which they profess, and if they have 
 written as they have, not from insidious design, but from mere 
 ignorance and error of judgment, should, in the first place, read 
 
56 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. [lect. n. 
 
 attentively the New Testament, that they may see how utterly 
 contrary to the fact are all the statements they have made. 
 Ajid, in the next place, I would wish one of these writers to 
 consider what he would think of some professed friend coming 
 forward as his advocate, and saying, " My friend here is a 
 veracious and worthy man, and there is no foundation for any 
 of the charges brought against him ; and his integrity is fully 
 believed in by persons who thoroughly trust him, and who have 
 never thought of examining his character at all, or inquiring 
 into his transactions ; but, of all things, do not make any inves- 
 tigation into his character ; for be assured that the more you 
 examine and inquire, the less likely you will be to be satisfied 
 of his integrity." 
 
 No one can doubt what would be thought of such a pre- 
 tended friend. And no reasonable man can fail, on reflection, 
 to perceive that such professed friends of our religion as those 
 I have been speaking of, do more to shake men's faith in it than 
 all the attacks of all the avowed infidels in the world put 
 together. 
 
 And next, I would have them look to the deplorable fruits, 
 of various kinds, which their system, of deprecating the use of 
 reason, and thus hiding under a bushel the lamp which Provi- 
 dence has kindly bestowed on Man, has produced, in its unfor- 
 tunate victims. Some, not a few, have listened to the idle tales 
 of crazy enthusiasts, or crafty impostors, who gabbled unmean- 
 ing sounds, which they profanely called the " gift of tongues ;" 
 or who pretended to have discovered in a cave a new book of 
 Scripture, called the " Book of Mormon," and which they as- 
 sure their deluded followers contains a divine revelation. And 
 they are believed (why not ?) by those who have not only never 
 heard of any reason why our Scripture should be received, but 
 have been taught that it is wrong to seek for any, and that they 
 ought to believe whatever they are told. 
 
 Others, again, have been strongly assured that Traditions 
 are of equal authority with Scripture; and this they believe 
 because they are earnestly assured of it ; which is the only 
 
LECT. n.l 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF CIVILISATION. 
 
 57 
 
 ground they ever had, or conceive themselves permitted to have, 
 for believing anything. 
 
 Others again, when falling in with some infidel, find that he 
 does urge something which at least pretends to be an argument, 
 and that they have nothing to urge on the opposite side ; and 
 having, moreover, been taught that inquiry is fatal to belief in 
 their religion, they conclude at once that the whole of it is a 
 fable, which even its advocates seem to acknowledge will not bear 
 the test of examination. 
 
 Finally, then, I would entreat any one of those mistaken ad- 
 vocates I have been speaking of, to imagine himself confronted 
 at the Day of Judgment with some of those misled people, and 
 to consider what answer he would make if these should reproach 
 him with the errors into which they have fallen. Let him con- 
 ceive them saying, " You have, through false and self- devised 
 views of expediency — in professed imitation of the sacred 
 writers, but in real contradiction to their practice, — sent forth 
 us, your weak brethren — made weaker by yourself — as ' sheep 
 among wolves,' provided with the ' harmlessness of the dove,' 
 but not with the ' wisdom of the serpent,' — unfurnished with 
 the arms which God's gifts of Scripture and of Reason would 
 have supplied to us, and purposely left naked to the assaults of 
 various enemies. Our Blood is on your head. You must 
 be accountable for our fall." 
 
POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 Concerning the foregoing arguments, there have appeared 
 some very strange mis-statements; indicating (on the most 
 favourable supposition) gross and culpable carelessness. I have 
 been represented as maintaining, or implying, that all the arts 
 of life must have come from a divine revelation. And this 
 doctrine, which is none of mine, has been triumphantly derided. 
 But any reader of the foregoing pages may see that I have dis- 
 tinctly said the very reverse, and have given my reasons for it. 
 Yet I have more than once been called upon to point out any 
 one art that could not have been devised by human ingenuity ; 
 though I never said, or thought, that there is any such. I 
 know of no art but what may have been invented, — and perhaps 
 has, in some instances, been invented, — by unaided men ; but 
 men who had received some little training, sufi&cient to call 
 forth and exercise, in some degree, their mental powers, and 
 to raise them above the state of mere brutish, improvident, un- 
 thinking savages, such as the Papuans of Andaman, or the 
 Fuegians. 
 
 On the unimproved and stationary condition of these last, 
 Mr. Darwin has made a remark which is cited in the foregoing 
 pages. He has indeed been understood to teach that Man may 
 possibly be a descendant of the Ape, and originally, of a Reptile 
 or a Mollusc. But even supposing this possible, there would 
 still remain an insupei-able difficulty — which Mr. Darwin seems 
 to have perceived — in the last step of all ; the advance of the 
 unaided savage to civilisation. 
 
 It has been hinted, however, that though not even the 
 smallest approach to this self-civilisation appear^ to have been 
 made in all the Ages that have passed since History began, 
 there is no saying what may not have been done in hundreds of 
 
POSTSCRIPT, 
 
 69 
 
 tliousands of previous centuries that may have elapsed since 
 jNLin first rose out of the molluscous state. 
 
 Some persons seem to forget the obvious truth (noticed by 
 tlic late Bishop Copleston)^, that Time is of itself no Agent. 
 Eveu a very minute effect, produced by some slowly-acting 
 cause, may* in a very long time, amount to something con- 
 siderable. But 000 multiplied by a million, can never amount 
 to a positive quantity. 
 
 When we are referred to Time, as producing effects for 
 which there is no other cause, one is reminded of the story 
 that is told of a Turk in Algeria, who had been supplied by a 
 clever French artist with an excellent set of artificial teeth. 
 Having lost an eye, he applied to the same artist for an artificial 
 one. The artist made, and fixed in, a glass eye, which looked very 
 natural. But the Turk complained that he could not see with 
 it at all. " Oh, you must not," said the artist, " expect that at 
 once. You must wait patiently till the eye has got accustomed 
 to the light, and in time, it will see very well." 
 
 See Remains of Bishop Copleaton. 
 
LECTURE III. 
 
 ON INSTINCTS 
 
 There is no particular branch of Natural History upon 
 which I should be as well qualified to give instruction, or with 
 which I am as well acquainted, as many who are here present. 
 If I were to attempt to instruct either those who had paid much 
 attention to such a study, or again those who were mere begin- 
 ners, in the one case, I should be undertaking to teach those who 
 were greater proficients than myself; in the other, I should 
 probably be a less skilful instructor than they might find in 
 persons more conversant with each particular branch of the 
 subject. But having been called upon to deliver a lecture upon 
 some point connected with Natural History, I consider it would 
 be more suitable in respect to my slender attainments in each 
 particular branch of Natural History, and to the circumstances 
 of the Society, to select a point in which Natural History comes 
 in contact with the Philosophy of the Human Mind, and those 
 metaphysical pursuits to which I have mostly devoted myself 
 
 Besides the intrinsic advantage of directing the attention of 
 my audience to this particular branch of study, another benefit 
 resulting from such a course of inquiry is, to relieve the study 
 of Natural History from some part of the discredit vmder 
 which, with many, it has laboured, in being considered as a 
 frivolous occupation of the time and faculties of Man; leading 
 him to reflect upon, examine, search into, and ascertain the 
 facts connected with this science, and all for no purpose beyond 
 the mere innocent amusement arising from the study — a study 
 thus represented as conducive in no way to the development of 
 
 • This Lecture is printed from a newspaper report, corrected. The subject has 
 been more ftiUy treated of in the Leaaona on Mind. 
 
LECI. in.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 61 
 
 the highei' faculties of the mind, or to the attainment of any 
 other benefit to mankind. 
 
 The charge does fairly lie against Natural History, thus, 
 and only thus, studied. And the same might be said with 
 regard even to the cultivation of literature. If a man went no 
 farther in literary pursuits than to be a good judge of diflFerent 
 editions of books, or the difi'erent modes of binding or printing 
 those books, he might make a very useful librarian ; but it could 
 not be said that he had turned literary knowledge to any of the 
 more dignified purposes for which it might be employed. There, 
 no doubt, are such persons ; but it would not therefore be true 
 to regard Literature altogether as merely a Bibliomania — a 
 mere curiosity about rare books, because some have no other 
 than such literature. And equally unfair would it be to 
 pronounce a similar contemptuous censure on Naturalists, 
 because there are some among them who correspond to those 
 librarian-students just alluded to — men who are content to 
 arrange and label, as it were, the volumes of the great Book of 
 Nature, and then forget to peruse them, or peruse them without 
 intelligence, and without profit. 
 
 The point which I have chosen as forming a contact between 
 Zoology and the branch of Philosophy which has relation to the 
 human mind, is the subject of INSTINCT. If I or my 
 audience were to estimate the propriety of my taking up the 
 examination of such a subject, from the degree of information 
 from existing books which I could bring to bear upon it, my 
 claim to their attention would be very low indeed. I have 
 found so little of a systematic accouht of the matter, in all the 
 authors I have ever read, that it struck me it might be desirable 
 to call the attention of the audience to the subject. I shall be 
 occupied rather in proposing questions for consideration, than 
 in answering questions myself. In many subjects it might be 
 objectionable to take this course ; but in this case something 
 may be gained by pointing out to you what to ask, and to 
 what you should direct your inquiries ; though I could not un- 
 dertake to answer the questions which I may propose, satis- 
 
62 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [lect. ii:. 
 
 factorily to myself. At any rate, if I cannot give you satisfac- 
 tion, I hope I can give you ??nsatisfaction — that is, I hope I 
 may be able to render you dissatisfied with the extent of your 
 knowledge, by pointing out how much there is to be known, to 
 be studied, and to be inquired into. 
 
 A Treatise upon the subject of Animal Instincts is a 
 desideratum. I have seen in many books interesting descrip- 
 tions of different instincts, curiously illustrated by well authen- 
 ticated facts. I have seen minute details of important and 
 interesting characteristics of Instinct. But I never saw any- 
 thing like a philosophic or systematic view of the subject ; nor 
 have I ever heard a distinct and satisfactory answer to the 
 question, "What do you mean by Instinct?" It seems, there- 
 fore, that however far advanced we may be in a Dictionary on the 
 subject of Instinct, a Grammar is a thing very much wanted. 
 It is in general rather implied and supposed, than distinctly 
 laid down, that a Being is acting instinctively when impelled 
 blindly towards some end which the agent does not aim at or 
 perceive ; and on the other hand, that it is acting rationally, 
 when acting with a view to, and for the sake of, some end 
 which it does perceive. But in the ordinary language even of 
 Naturalists, and even when they are describing and recounting 
 instances of remarkable Instincts, we often meet with much 
 that is inconsistent with this view. And when any one says, 
 as many are accustomed to do, that Brutes are actuated by 
 Instinct, and Man by Reason, this language has the appear- 
 ance, at least, of being much at variance with such a view. 
 
 When I speak of Animal-instinct, it should be remembered 
 that I include Man. I presume that you have all learned that 
 Man is an Animal; although it is a fact frequently forgotten 
 by many. Man possesses Instinct, though in a lower degree 
 than most other animals ; his inferiority in these being com- 
 pensated by his superiority in other respects. And again : as 
 Man possesses Instinct in a lower degree than the brutes, so, in 
 a lower degree than Man, brutes — at least the higher brutes — 
 possess Reason. As some things felt and done by Man are 
 
LECT. m.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 63 
 
 allowed to be instinctive — as hunger and thirst for instance, are 
 evidently instincts — so many things done by brutes, at least by 
 the higher description of brutes, would be, if done by Man, 
 regarded as resulting from the exercise of Reason — I mean 
 where the actions of the brute spring, to all appearance, from 
 the same impulse as the rational acts of Man. 
 
 In many instances we know this is not the case. A man 
 builds a house from Reason — a bird builds a nest from Instinct; 
 and no one would say that the bird, in this, acted from Reason. 
 But in other instances, Man not only does the same things as 
 the brutes, but does them from the same kind of impulse, 
 •which should be called instinctive, whether in man or brute. 
 And again, several things are done by brutes, which are 
 evidently not instinctive, but, to all appearance, no less rational 
 than human acts : being not only the same actions, but done 
 from the same impulse. I shall not at present inquire what is 
 called Reason, any more than what is denominated Instinct. I 
 would only say that several things which are allowed by every 
 one to be acts of Reason, when done by a man, are done by 
 brutes manifestly under a similar impulse — I mean such things 
 as brutes learn to do, either by their own unaided experience, 
 or, as taught by Man, Docility is evidently characteristic of 
 Reason, To talk of an elephant, a horse, or a dog doing by 
 Instinct such things as it has been taught, would be as absurd 
 as to talk of a child's learning to read and write by Instinct, 
 
 But, moreover. Brutes are, in many instances, capable of 
 learning even what they have not been taught by Man. They 
 have been found able to combine, more or less, the means of 
 accomplishing a certain end, from having learned by experience 
 that such and such means, so applied, would conduce to it. 
 The higher animals of course show more of Reason, than the 
 lower. There are many instances. of its existence in domestic 
 animals. 
 
 The Dog is regarded as the animal most completely Man's 
 companion ; and I will mention one, out of many specimens of 
 the kind of Reason to which I refer, as exhibited in a dog. 
 
64 
 
 ON INSTINCT, 
 
 [lect. m. 
 
 The incident is upon record, and there seems no ground for 
 doubting it, although it did not come under my own personal 
 observation. This dog being left on the bank of a river by 
 his master, who had gone up the river in a boat, attempted to 
 join him. He plunged into the water, but not making allowance 
 for the strength of the stream, which carried him considerably 
 below the boat, he could not beat up against it. He landed 
 and made allowance for the current of the river, by leaping in 
 at a place higher up. The combined action of the stream, and 
 his swimming, carried him in an oblique direction, and he thus 
 reached the boat. Having made the trial, and failed, he appa- 
 rently judged from the failure of the first attempt, that his 
 course was to go up the stream, make allowance for its strength, 
 and thus gain the boat. I do not vouch for the accuracy of 
 this anecdote ; but I see no grounds for disbelieving it, as it is 
 of a piece with many other recorded instances. 
 
 There is another instance of this nature, which did come 
 under my own observation, and is more worthy of being re- 
 corded, because the actor was a Cat — a species of animal which 
 is considered generally very inferior in sagacity to a dog. This 
 cat lived many years in my mothers family, and its feats of 
 sagacity were witnessed by her, my sisters, and myself. It 
 was known, not merely once or twice, but habitually, to ring 
 the parlour bell whenever it wished the door to be opened. 
 Some alarm was excited on the first occasion that it turned 
 bell-ringer. The family had retired to rest, and in the middle 
 of the night the parlour bell was rung violently : the sleepers 
 were startled from their repose, and proceeded downstairs, with 
 pokers and tongs, to interrupt, as they thought, the predatory 
 movement of some burglar ; but they were agreeably surprised 
 to discover that the bell had been rung by pussy ; who fre- 
 quently repeated the act whenever she wanted to get out of 
 the parlour. 
 
 Here are two clear cases of acts done by a cat and dog, 
 which, if done by a man, would be called reason. Every one 
 would admit that the actions were rational — not, to be sure, 
 
LECT. m.j 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 65 
 
 proceeding from a very high exertion of intellect ; but the dog, 
 at least, rationally jumped into the stream at a distance higher 
 up from the boat, into which he wished to get, because he 
 found that the stream would thus carry him to it, instead of 
 from it ; and the cat pulled the parlour bell, because she had 
 observed that when it was rung by the family, the servant 
 opened the door. It is quite clear that if such acts were done 
 by Man, they would be regarded as an exercise of Reason; and 
 I do not know why, when performed by brutes, evidently by 
 a similar mental process, as far as can be judged, they should 
 not bear the same name. To speak of a cat's having an instinct 
 to pull a bell when desirous of going out at the door, or of an 
 elephant's lifting up a cannon, or beating down a wall, at his 
 driver's command, by instinct, would be to use words at random. 
 
 On the other hand, hunger and thirst are as instinctive in 
 Man as in brutes. An invalid, indeed, when taking food 
 without appetite, does not act upon Instinct; he acts upon 
 Reason, which tells him that unless he eat, his strength 
 would not support the disease under which he labours; but 
 the man who eats •when he is hungry, and drinks when he is 
 thirsty, acts as truly from instinct as the new-born babe when 
 it sucks. 
 
 It appears, then, that we can neither deny Reason, univer- 
 sally and altogether, to brutes, nor Instinct, to Man ; but that 
 each possesses a share of both, though in very different propor- 
 tions. Then the question naturally arises — which is one I pro- 
 pose, but do not presume positively to decide — " What is the 
 difference between Man and the higher brutes?" We have 
 already decided, in reference to one point, what the difference 
 does not consist in. It is not that brutes are wholly destitute 
 of everything that, in Man, we call Reason. Instances to the 
 contrary, similar to what have been above mentioned, might be 
 produced to a great extent. But this would be superfluous ; 
 because, as has been said, the docility of many brutes is familiar 
 to all : and if any one could seriously speak of teaching any- 
 w. E. F 
 
66 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [lect. iit. 
 
 thing to a Being wholly devoid of reason, he would evidently be 
 using the word in some sense quite different from that in which 
 it is ordinarily employed. 
 
 And yet the difference between Man and brute, in respect of 
 intelligence, appears plainly to be not a difference in mere de- 
 gree, but in kind. An intelligent brute is not like a stupid man. 
 The intelligence and sagacity shown by the elephant, monkey, 
 and dog, are something very different from the lowest and most 
 stupid of human Beings. It is a difference in kind, not merely 
 in degree. 
 
 It strikes me that in all the most striking instances in which 
 brutes display reason, all the intellectual operation seems to con- 
 sist in the combination of means to an end. The dog who swam 
 from a higher part of the river to reach the boat ; the cat who 
 rang the bell to call the servant; the elephant of whom we have 
 read, that was instructed by his keeper, off hand, to raise himself 
 from a tank into which he had fallen, by means of faggots, 
 thrown into him by the keeper, on which the elephant raised 
 himself from the pit, and from which all the windlasses and 
 cranes in the Indian empire could not have extricated him ; the 
 monkey in the Zoological Gardens, who used to possess himself 
 of a nut placed beyond the reach of his paw, by doubling a straw, 
 and casting this round it, by which means he was enabled to draw 
 it towards him : these, and many other similar instances of sa- 
 gacity, appear to consist in the adaptation of means to an 
 end. 
 
 But the great difference between Man and the higher brutes • 
 appears to me to consist in the power of using SIGNS — arbi- 
 trary signs — and Qm^lQj'mglangnage as an instrument of tJionght. 
 We are accustomed to speak of language as useful to Man, to 
 communicate his thoughts. I consider this as only one of the 
 uses of language. That use of language which, though com- 
 monly overlooked, is the most characteristic of Man, is as an 
 instrument of thought. Man is not the only animal that can 
 make use of language to express what is passing within his mind, 
 and that can understand, more or less, what is so expressed by 
 
LECT. III.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 67 
 
 another. Some brutes can be taught to utter, and many others, 
 to understand, more or less imperfectly, sounds expressive of 
 certain emotions. Every one knows that the dog understands 
 the general drift of expressions used ; and parrots can be taught 
 not only to pronounce words, but to pronounce them with some 
 consciousness of the general meaning of what they utter. We 
 commonly speak, indeed, of " saying so-and-so by rote as a 
 parrot ;" but it is far from true that they are quite uncon- 
 scious of the meaning of the sounds. Parrots do not utter 
 words at random ; for they call for food ; when displeased, scold; 
 and use expressions in reference to particular persons which 
 they have heard applied to them. They evidently have some 
 notion of the general drift of many expressions which they use. 
 Almost every animal which is capable of being tamed, can, in 
 in some degree, use language as an indication of what passes 
 within. But no animal has the use of language as an " instru- 
 ment of thought." Man makes use of genfral signs in the 
 application of his power of Abstraction, by which he is enabled 
 to reason ; and the use of arbitrary general signs, — what logicians 
 call " common terms" — with a facility of thus using Abstraction 
 at pleasure, is a characteristic of Man. 
 
 By the expression " making use of abstraction," I do not 
 mean our merely recognizing the general character of some in- 
 dividual, not seen before, of a class we are acquainted with ; aa 
 when, for instance, any one sees for the first time some par- 
 ticular man or horse, and knows that the one is a man, and the 
 other a horse. For this is evidently done by brutes. A bird, 
 for instance, which has been used to fly from men, and not from 
 oxen, will fly from an individual man whom it has never seen 
 before, and will have no fear of an ox. But this is not having 
 what I call the power of using abstraction at pleasure. It is 
 merely that similar qualities aflect animals in a similar way. 
 With certain description of forms are associated ideas of fear or 
 gratification. Thus a young calf readily comes up to a woman 
 whom it sees for the first time, because a woman has been used 
 to feed it with milk; while the young of wild animals fly from 
 
 F 3 
 
68 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 Llect. m. 
 
 any human Being. But I speak of Man being able so to use 
 the power of abstraction "as to employ SIGNS to denote any or 
 every individual of a certain class. 
 
 Perhaps you may think that I am giving a remarkable in- 
 stance of instinctive love of aa author for the offspring of his 
 own mind, by quoting from a work written by myself. But it 
 is necessary to refer to the passages which treat of language 
 as an instrument of thouglit in the Elements of Loijic In 
 inward solitary reasoning, many, and perliaps most persons, but 
 especially those not much accustomed to read or speak concern- 
 ing the subjects that occupy their thoughts, make use, partly, of 
 Signs that are not arbitrary and conventional, but which consist 
 of ment-dX-conceptions of individual objects ; taken, each, as a re- 
 presentative of a Class. E. cj. a person practically conversant 
 with mechanical operations, but not with discussions of them in 
 words, may form a conception of — in colloquial phrase, ' figure 
 to himself — a certain field or room, with whose shape he is 
 familiar, and may employ this, in his inward trains of 
 thought, as a Sign, to represent, for instance, ' parallelo- 
 gram ' or 'trapezium,' &c. ; or he may 'figure to himself a 
 man raising a weight by means of a pole, and may use this con- 
 ception as a general Sign, in place of the term 'lever;' and the 
 terms themselves he may be unacquainted with ; in which case 
 he will be at a loss to impart distinctly to others his own reason- 
 ings; and in the attempt, will often express himself (as one may 
 frequently observe in practical men unused to reading and 
 speaking) not only indistinctly, but even erroneously. Hence, 
 partly, may have arisen the belief in those supposed ' abstract 
 ideas ' which will be hereafter alluded to, and in the possibility 
 of reasoning without the use of any Signs at all. 
 
 " Supposing there really exist in the mind — or in some minds 
 — certain ' abstract ideas,' by means of which a train of reason- 
 ing may he carried on indejyendenfly of Common-terms [or Siyns 
 of any kind] — for this is the real point at issue — and that a 
 system of Logic may be devised, having reference to such 
 reasoning — supposing this — still, as I profess not to know any- 
 
LECT. m.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 69 
 
 thing of these ' abstract ideas,' or of any ' Universals ' except 
 Siffns, or to be conscious of any such reasoning process, I at 
 least must con6ne myself to the attempt to teach the only Logic 
 I do pretend to understand. Many, again, who speak slight- 
 ingly of Logic altogether, on the ground of its being ' conversant 
 only about words,'' entertain fundamentally the same views as 
 the above ; that is, they take for granted that Reasoning may 
 be carried on altogether indeiiendenflij of Language; which they 
 regard (as was above remarked) merely as a means of communi- 
 cating it to others. And a Science or Art which they suppose 
 to be confined to this office, they accordingly rank very low. 
 
 Such a view I believe to be very prevalent. The majority 
 of men would probably say, if asked, that the use of Lan- 
 guage is peculiar to Man ; and that its office is to express to 
 one another our thoughts and feelings. But neither of these is 
 strictly true. Brutes do possess in some degree the power of 
 being taught to understand what is said to them, and some of 
 them even to utter sounds expressive of what is passing within 
 them. But they all seem to be incapable of another very im- 
 portant use of Language, which does characterize Man — viz., 
 the employment of ' Common- terms ' ('general-terms') formed 
 by Abstraction, as instruments of thought ; by which alone a 
 train of Reasoning may be carried on. 
 
 " And accordmgly, a Deaf-mute, before he has been taught a 
 Language — either the Finger-language or Reading — cannot 
 carry on a ti-ain of Reasoning, any more than a Brute. He 
 diifers indeed from a Brute in possessing the mental capabilify 
 of employing Language ; but he can no more make use of that 
 capability, till he is in possession of some System of arlitrary 
 general-signs, than a person born blind from Cataract can 
 make use of his capacity of Seeing, till the Cataract is 
 removed. 
 
 " Hence it will be found by any one who will question a Deaf- 
 mute who has been taught Language after having grown up, 
 that no such thing as a train of Reasoning had ever passed 
 through his mind before he was taught. 
 
 I 
 
70 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [lect. m. 
 
 " If indeed we did reason by means of those ' Abstract 
 ideas ' which some persons talk of, and if the Language we use 
 served merely to communicate with other men, then a person 
 would be able to reason who had no knowledge of any arbitrary 
 Signs. But there are no grounds for believing that this is 
 possible ; nor consequently, that ' Abstract-ideas ' (in that sense 
 of the word) have any existence at all. 
 
 " There have been some very interesting accounts published, 
 by travellers in America, and by persons residing there, of a 
 girl named Laura Bridgeman, who has been, from birth, not 
 only Deaf and Dumb, but also Blind. She has, however, been 
 taught the finger-language, and even to read what is printed in 
 raised characters, and also to write. 
 
 " The remarkable circumstance in reference to the present 
 subject, is, that when she is alone, her fingers are genernlly ob- 
 served to be moving, though the signs are so slight and imperfect 
 that others cannot make out what she is thinking of But if 
 they inquire of her, she will tell them. 
 
 " It seems that, having once learnt the use of Signs, she 
 finds the necessity of them as an Instrument of thought, 
 when thinking of anything beyond mere individual objects of 
 sense. 
 
 " And doubtless every one else does the same ; though in 
 our case, no one can (as in the case of Laura Bridgeman) see 
 the operation : nor, in general, can it be heard ; though some 
 few persons have a habit of occasionally audibly talking to 
 themselves ; or as it is called, ' thinking aloud.' But the Signs 
 we commonly use in silent reflection are merely mental concep- 
 tions, usually of uttered words : and these doubtless are such as 
 could be hardly at all understood by another, even if uttered 
 audibly. For we usually think in a kind of short-hand (if one 
 may use the expression), like the notes one sometimes takes 
 down on paper to help the memory, which consist of a word or 
 two — or even a letter — to suggest a whole sentence ; so that 
 such notes would be unintelligible to any one else. 
 
 " It has been observed also that this girl, when asleep, and 
 
UiCT. lU. 1 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 71 
 
 doubtless dreaming, has her fingers frequently in motion : being 
 in fact talking in her sleep. 
 
 " Univei'sallj, it is to be steadily kept in mind, that no 
 ' common-terms ' have, as the names of Individuals [' singular 
 terms '][ have, any real thing existing in nature corresponding to 
 each of them, but that each of them is merely a Sign denoting 
 a certain inadequate notion which our minds have formed of an 
 Individual, and which, consequently, not including the notion of 
 'individuality' [jiimerical-nmtj^, nor anything wherein that 
 individual differs from certain others, is applicable equally well 
 to all, or any of them. Thus ' man ' denotes no real thing (as 
 the sect of the Realists maintained) distinct from each indi- 
 vidual, but merely any man, viewed inadequately, i.e., so as to 
 omit, and abstract from, all that is peculiar to each individual ; 
 by which means the term becomes applicable alike to any 
 one of several individuals, or [in the plural} to several 
 together. 
 
 " The unity \_singleness or samenessl denoted by a 
 
 common-term, does not, as in the case of a singular-term, consist 
 in the ohjed itself being (in the primary sense) one and the 
 same, but in the oneness of the Sign itself: which is like a 
 Stamp (for marking bales of goods or cattle)^ that impresses on 
 each a similar mark ; called thence, in the secondary sense, one 
 and the same mark. And just such a stamp, to the mind, is a 
 Common-term ; which being itself one, conveys to each of an 
 indefinite number of minds an impression precisely similar, and 
 thence called, in the transferred sense, one and the same Idea. 
 
 " And we arbitrarily fix on the circumstance which we in 
 each instance chuse to abstract and consider separately, dis. 
 regarding all the rest ; so that the same individual may thus 
 be referred to any of several difierent Species, and the same 
 Species, to several Genera, as suits our purpose. Thus it 
 suits the Farmer's purpose to class his cattle with his ploughs, 
 carts, and other possessions, under the name of 'stock:' the 
 Naturalist, suitably to his purpose, classes them as ' quadru- 
 peds,' which term would mclude wolves, deer, &c., which, to the 
 
72 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [LECT. III. 
 
 farmer, would be a most improper classification : the Commis- 
 sary, again, would class them with corn, cheese, fish, &c., as 
 'provision ;'' that which is most essential in one view, being sub- 
 ordinate in another. 
 
 " Nothing so much conduces to the error of Realism as the 
 transferred and secondary use of the words ' same,' ' one and 
 the same,' ' identical,' &c., when it is not clearly perceived and 
 carefully borne in mind, that they are employed in a secondary 
 sense, and that, more frequently even than in the primary. 
 
 " Suppose e.g. a thousand persons are thinking of the Sun : 
 it is evident it is one and the same individual object on which 
 all these minds are employed. So far all is clear. But 
 suppose all these persons are thinking of a Triangle — not 
 any individual triangle, but Triangle in general — and con- 
 sidering, perhaps, the equality of its angles to two right 
 angles : it would seem as if, in this case also, their minds were 
 all employed on ' one and the same ' object : and this object of 
 their thoughts, it may be said, cannot be the mere loord Tri- 
 angle, but that which is meant by it : nor again, can it be every- 
 thing that the word will apply to : for i\\ey are not thinking of 
 triangles, but of one thing. Those who do not maintain that 
 this ' one thing ' has an existence independent of the human 
 mind, are in general content to tell us, by way of explanation, 
 that the object of their thoughts is the abstract ' idea ' of a 
 triangle; an explanation which satisfies, or at least silences 
 many ; though it may be doubted whether they very clearly 
 understand what sort of thing an ' idea ' is ; which may thus 
 exist in a thousand difierent minds at once, and yet be ' one 
 and the same.' 
 
 " The fact is, that ' unity' and ' sameness' are in such cases 
 employed, not in the primary sense, but to denote perfect 
 similarity. When we say that ten thousand different persons 
 have all ' one and the same' Idea in their minds, or are all of 
 ' one and the same' Opinion, we mean no more than that they 
 I are all thinking exactly alike. When we say that they are all 
 in the ' same' posture, we mean that they are all placed alike; 
 
LECT. III.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 73 
 
 and so also they are said all to have the ' same ' d'sease, whea 
 they are ail diseased alike." 
 
 It is hardly necessary to add, that I am a decided nomi- 
 nalist. The abstract Ideas of which persons speak, and the 
 mere names of which language is represented as furnishing, are 
 things to which I am a stranger. The using of Signs of some 
 kind, such as have been above described, the combining and re- 
 combining of these in various wajs, and the analysing and 
 constructing of passages wherein they occur, this is what I 
 mean by the employment of language as an instrument of 
 thought; and this is what no brute has arrived at. Brutes 
 have (as has been said above), more or less, the use of language 
 to convey to othei's what is passing within them. But the 
 power of employing Abstraction at pleasure, so as to form 
 " general Signs" and make use of these Signs as an instrument 
 of thought, in carrying on the process which is strictly called 
 Reasoning, is probably the chief difference of Man and the brute ; 
 but Reason, in a sense in which the term is often employed, is, 
 to a certain extent, common to Man and brute. And Instinct, 
 again, although possessed by Man in an inferior degree to that 
 of the brutes, is, in some points, common to both. 
 
 Brutes, as has been said, have not command over Abstrac- 
 tion, so as to make use of it to form general Signs ; and it may 
 be added, that different men are, as to this point, elevated in 
 various degress — some more and some less — above the brutes. 
 A great degree of a certain kind of intelligence, similar to what 
 is found in the higher descriptions of brutes, is found in some 
 men who have a great inaptitude for abstract Reasoning. Per- 
 sons may often be met with who have much of a certain prac- 
 tical sagacity, and are accounted knowing, clever, and ingenious, 
 who yet are even below the average in respect of any scientific 
 studies; and others again, who rank high in that particular 
 kind of intelligence, which is altogether peculiar to Man, are 
 often greatly inferior to others in those mental powers which 
 are, to a certain degree, common to Man with the higher 
 brutes. 
 
74 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [lect. ni. 
 
 To sum up, then, what has been hitherto said: it appears 
 that there are certain kinds of intellectual power — of what, in 
 Man, at least, is always called Reason — common, to a certain 
 extent, to Man with the higher brutes. And again : that there 
 are certain powers wholly confined to Man — especially all those 
 concerned in what is properly called Reasoning — all employment 
 of language as an instrument of thought ; and it appears that 
 Instinct, again, is, to a certain extent, common to Man with 
 brutes, though far less in amount, and less perfect in Man ; and 
 more and more developed in other animals, the lower we descend 
 in the scale. 
 
 An Instinct is, as has been said above, a blind tendency to 
 some mode of action, independent of any consideration on the 
 part of the agent, of the end to which the action leads. Hunger 
 and thirst are no less an instinct in the adult, than the desire 
 of the new-born babe to suck, although it has no idea that milk 
 is in the breast, or that it is nutritious. When, on the other 
 hand, a man builds a house, in order to have shelter from the 
 weather, and a comfortable place to pursue his trade, or reside 
 in, the act is not called Instinct ; while that term does apply to 
 a bird's building a nest : because Man has not any blind desire 
 to build the house. The rudest savage always contemplates, 
 in forming his hut, the very object of providing a safeguard 
 against the weather, and perhaps against wild beasts and other 
 enemies. But, supposing Man had the Instinct of the bird — 
 supposing a man who had never seen a house, or thought of 
 protecting himself, had a tendency to construct somethmg 
 analogous to a nest ; or again, supposing a bird was so endowed 
 with reason as to build a nest tvith a view to lay eggs therein, 
 and sit on them, with a design, and in order, to perpetuate its 
 species : in the former case Man would be a builder from 
 Instinct, and in the latter, the bird would be a builder from 
 Reason. 
 
 But it is worth observing that there are many cases in 
 which, though the agent is clearly acting from rational design 
 with a view to a certain end, yet the act may, in reference to 
 
LECT. UI.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT, 
 
 75 
 
 another and quite different end, which he did not contemplate, 
 be considered as in some sort instinctive. When, for instance, 
 any one deliberately takes means to provide food for the 
 gratification of his hunger, and has no other object in view, his 
 acts are, eviciently, with a view to that immediate end, rational 
 and not instinctive. But he is, probably, at the same time, 
 and by the same act, promoting another object, the preservation 
 of his'life, health, and strength; which object, by supposition, 
 he was not thinking about. His acts, therefore, are in refer- 
 ence to the preservation of life — analogous, at least, to those 
 of Instinct ; though, in reference to the object he was contem- 
 plating — the gratification of hunger — they are the result of 
 deliberate calculation. 
 
 There are many portions of men's conduct to which this 
 kind of description will apply — particularly all that men do 
 with a view solely to their own individual advantage, but which 
 does produce most important, though undesigned, advantages 
 to the Public. " And this procedure" (as I have observed in 
 the Fourth Lecture on Political Economy) " is, as far as regards 
 the object which the agent did not contemplate, precisely 
 analogo.us, at least, to that of instinct, 
 
 " The workman, for instance, who is employed in casting 
 printing- types, is usually thinking only of producing a commo- 
 dity by the sale of which he may support himself ; with reference 
 to this object, he is acting, not from any impulse that is at all of 
 the character of instinct, but from a rational and deliberate 
 choice : but he is also, in the very same act, contributing most 
 powerfully to the diffusion of knowledge, about which perhaps 
 he has no anxiety or thought : in reference to this latter ohjecty 
 therefore, his procedure corresponds to those operations of 
 various animals which we attribute to instinct; since they 
 doubtless derive some immediate gratification from what they 
 are doings So Man is, in the same act, doing one thing, by 
 choice, for his own benefit, and another, undesignedly, under 
 the guidance of Providence, for the service of the community." 
 
 And again, *' various parts of man's conduct as a member 
 
76 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [lect. m. 
 
 of society ar3 often attriluted to human forethought and 
 design, which might with greater truth be referred to a kind 
 of instinct, or something analogous to it; which leads him, 
 while pursuing some immediate personal gratification, to further 
 an object not contemplated by him. In many cases we are 
 liable to mistake for the wisdom of Man what is in truth the 
 wisdom of God. 
 
 "In nothing, perhaps, will an, attentive and candid inquirer 
 perceive more of this divine wisdom than in' the provisions 
 made for the progress of society. But in nothing is it more 
 liable to be overlooked. In the bodily structure of Man, we 
 plainly perceive innumerable marks of wise contrivance, in 
 which it IS plain that Man himself can have had no share. 
 And again, in the results of instinct in brutes, although the 
 animals themselves are, in some sort, agents, we are sure that 
 they not only could not originally have designed the effects 
 they produce, but even afterwards have no notion of the con- 
 trivance by which these were brought about. But when human 
 conduct tends to some desirable end, and the agents are com- 
 petent to perceive that the end is desirable, and the means well 
 adapted to it, they are apt to forget, that, in the great majority 
 of instances, those means were not devised, nor those ends pro- 
 posed, by the persons themselves who are thus employed. 
 Those who build and who navigate a ship, have usually, I con- 
 ceive, no more thought about the national wealth and power, 
 the national refinements and comforts, dependent on the inter- 
 change of commodities, and the other results of commerce, than 
 they have of the purification of the blood in the lungs by the 
 act of respiration, or than the bee has of the process of con- 
 structing a honeycomb. 
 
 " Most useful indeed to Society, and much to be honoured, 
 are those who possess the rare moral and intellectual endow- 
 ment of an enlightened public spirit ; but if none did service 
 to the Public except in proportion as they possessed this, 
 Society I fear would fare but ill. Public spirit, either in the 
 form of Patriotism which looks to the good of a community, or 
 
LECT. in.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 77 
 
 in that of Philanthropy which seeks the good of the whole 
 human race, implies, not merely benevolent feelings stronger 
 than, in fact, we commonly meet with, but also powers of 
 ahsirac'ion beyond what the mass of mankind can possess. As 
 it is, many of the most important objects are accomplished by 
 the joint agency of persons who never think of them, nor have 
 any idea of acting in concert; and that with a certainty, com- 
 pleteness, and regularity, which probably the most diligent 
 benevolence, under the guidance of the greatest human wisdom, 
 could never have attained. 
 
 " For instance, let any one propose to himself the problem 
 of supplying with daily provisions of all kinds such a city as 
 our metropolis, containing above a million of inhabitants. Let 
 him imagine himself a head commissary, entrusted with the 
 office of furnishing to this enormous host their daily rations. 
 Any considerable failure in the supply, even for a single day, 
 might produce the most frightful distress, since the spot on 
 which they are cantoned produces absolutely nothing. Some, 
 indeed, of the articles consumed admit of being reserved in 
 public or private stores, for a considerable time ; but many, 
 including most articles of animal food, and many, of vegetable, 
 are of the most perishable nature. As a deficient supply of 
 these, even for a few days, would occasion great inconvenience, 
 so a redundancy of them would produce a corresponding waste. 
 Moreover, in a district of such vast extent, as this ' province ' 
 (as it has been aptly called) ' covered with houses,' it is essential 
 that the supplies should be so distributed among the different 
 quarters, as to be brought almost to the doors of the inha- 
 bitants ; at least within such a distance that they may, without 
 an inconvenient waste of time and labour, procure their daily 
 shares. 
 
 " Moreover, whereas the supply of provisions for an army 
 or garrison is comparatively uniform in hind : here the greatest 
 possible variety is required, suitable to the wants of various 
 classes of consumers. 
 
 " Again, this immense population is extremely fluctuating 
 
78 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [lect. m. 
 
 in numbers ; and the increase or diminution depends on causes, 
 of which, though some may, others can not, be distinctly 
 foreseen. The difference of several weeks in the arrival, for 
 instance, of one of the great commercial fleets, or in the 
 assembly or dissolution of a parliament, which cause a great 
 variation in the population, it is often impossible to foresee. 
 
 " Lastly, and above all, the daily supplies of each article 
 must be so nicely adjusted to the stock from which it is drawn 
 — to the scanty, or more or less abundant, harvest — importation 
 — or other source of supply — to the interval which is to elapse 
 before a fresh stock can be furnished, and to the probable 
 abundance of the new supply, that as little distress as possible 
 may be undergone ; that on the one hand the population may 
 not unnecessarily be put upon short allowance of any article, 
 and that on the other hand they may be preserved from the 
 more di-eadful risk of famine, which would ensue from their 
 continuing a free consumption when the store was insufficient 
 to hold out. 
 
 " Now let any one consider this problem in all its bearings, 
 reflecting on the enormous and fluctuating number of persons 
 to be fed — the immense quantity, and the variety, of the pro- 
 visions to be furnished, the importance of a convenient distri- 
 bution of them, and the necessity of husbanding them discreetly; 
 and then let him reflect on the anxious toil which such a 
 task would impose on a Board of the most experienced and 
 intelligent commissaries ; who after all would be able to dis- 
 charge their office but very inadequately. 
 
 " Yet this object is accomplished far better than it could be 
 by any effort of human wisdom, through the agency of men, 
 who think each of nothing beyond his own immediate interest — 
 who, with that object in view, perform their respective parts 
 with cheerful zeal — and combine unconsciously to employ the 
 wisest means for effecting an object, the vastness of which it 
 would bewilder them even to contemplate. 
 
 " It is really wonderful to consider with what ease and regu- 
 larity this important end is accomplished, day after day, and 
 
LECT. m.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 79 
 
 year after year, through the sagacity and vigilance of private 
 interest operating on the numerous class of wholesale, and more 
 especially retail, dealers. Each of these watches attentively the 
 demands of his neighbourhood, or of the market he frequents, 
 for such commodities as he deals in. The apprehension, on the 
 one hand, of not realizing all the profit he might, and, on the other 
 hand, of having his goods left on his hands, either by his laying 
 in too large a stock, or by his rivals underselling him — these, 
 acting like antagonist muscles, regulate the extent of his deal- 
 ings, and the prices at which he buys and sells. An abundant 
 supply causes him to lower his prices, and thus enables the Pub- 
 lic to enjoy that abundance; while he is guided only by the ap- 
 prehension of being undersold; and, on the other hand, an 
 actual or apprehended scarcity causes him to demand a higher 
 price, or to keep back his goods in expectation of a rise. 
 
 " For doing this, corn-dealers in particular are often exposed 
 to odium, as if they were the cause of the scarcity; while in re- 
 ality they are performing the important service of husbanding 
 the supply in proportion to its deficiency, and thus warding off 
 the calamity of famine ; in the same manner as the commander 
 of a garrison or a ship regulates the allowances according to the 
 stock, and the time it is to last. But the dealers deserve neither 
 censure for the scarcity which they are ignorantly supposed to 
 produce, nor credit for the important public service which they 
 in reality perform. They are merely occupied in gaining a fair 
 livelihood. And in the pursuit of this object, without any com- 
 prehensive wisdom, or any need of it, they co-operate, unknow- 
 ingly, in conducting a system which, we may safely say, no 
 human wisdom directed to that end could have conducted so well 
 — the system by which this enormous population is fed from day 
 to day. 
 
 " I have said, * no human wisdom ;' for wisdom there surely 
 is in this adaptation of the means to the result actually produced. 
 In this instance, as well as in a multitude of others, from which 
 I selected it for illustration's sake, there are the same marks of 
 contrivance and design, with a view to a beneficial end, as we 
 
80 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [LECT. m. 
 
 are accustomed to admire (when our attention is drawn to them 
 hy the study of Natural Theology) in the anatomical structure 
 of the body, and in the instincts of the brute creation. The pul- 
 sations of the heart, the ramifications of vessels in the lungs — 
 the direction of the arteries and of the veins — the valves which 
 prevent the retrograde motion of the blood — all these exhibit a 
 wonderful cotnhinution of mechanical means towai'ds the end 
 manifestly designed, the circulating system. But I know not 
 whether it does not even still more excite our admiration of the 
 beneficent wisdom of Providence, to contemplate, not corporeal 
 particles, but rational free agents, co-operating in systems no 
 less manifestly indicating design, yet no design of theirs ; and 
 though acted on, not by gravitation and impulse, like inert 
 matter, but by motives addressed to the will, yet advancing as 
 regularly and as effectually the accomplishment of an object they 
 never contemplated, as if they were merely the passive wheels 
 of a machine." 
 
 As for Instincts strictly so-called — those wholly unconnected 
 with anything rational in the agent — these are, as has been said, 
 moi*e and more curiously developed the lower we go in the ani- 
 mal creation. Insects far surpass in this respect the more in- 
 telligent brutes. The architecture of many of these is far more 
 complicated and curious, than that of the bird or the beaver ; 
 and they not only construct receptacles for their young, but, in 
 many instances — that of the bee among others — store up in 
 these a supply of food of a totally different kind from what they 
 subsist on themselves. 
 
 The gratification which, doubtless, is in all cases afforded by 
 the performance of any instinctive act, is what we can give no 
 explanation of. Birds take a delight in picking up straws and 
 feathers, and weaving them into a nest ; and bees, in con- 
 structing a cell, and storing it with pollen, which they do not 
 eat themselves, but which is the food of the larvae. All we can 
 say is, that the bird has a kind of appetite at a certain season 
 for picking up straws ; and so for the rest. But the mysteri- 
 ousness of the process is greater in some cases than in others ; 
 
ixcT. m.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 81 
 
 because, in some cases ■vre cannot, while in others we can, 
 perceive through what medium the instinct acts. We can under- 
 stand, for instance, through the means of what organs the in- 
 stincts of sucking and of suckling operate. We can understand 
 that the joung calf is incited to suck by the smell of its mother's 
 milk, and that the mother is anxious to be sucked by its young, 
 because it is thus relieved from a painful and distressing dis- 
 tention of the udder; but I cannot understand the analogous 
 instinct of birds. We do not know through the medium of what 
 organs birds are induced to put food into the mouths of their 
 young. We see a pair of birds searching all day long for food ; 
 and in many instances the food they seek is such as they do not 
 feed on themselves — for example, granivorous birds hunt after 
 caterpillars for their young : in other eases they seek for food 
 which their own appetite incites them to eat ; but they treasure 
 it for their young, and are impelled by an instinctive appetite to 
 put it into its mouth when opened. I might also add, that this 
 instinct is not peculiar to birds. The mammalia partake of 
 it; for we find wolves, dogs, and other carnivorous animals, 
 bringing home meat, and leaving it before their young ones. If 
 a bitch or wolf has pups, and cannot bring food to them other- 
 wise than by first swallowing it, she swallows it, and then dis- 
 gorges it; for the animal has the power of evacuating its 
 stomach at pleasure. Pigeons invariably swallow the food be- 
 fore they give it to their young. 
 
 There are many other cases in which it cannot be ascer- 
 tained towards what the immediate impulses of animals tend. 
 Take the case of migratory birds — even those which have been 
 caged : when a particular season arrives, they desire to fly in a 
 certain direction. Now, towards what the impulse is we cannot 
 comprehend. They have a disposition to fly ; but it is not a 
 mere desire to use their wings. They have a disposition to fly 
 in a certain direction ; but what leads them in that direction 
 cannot be understood. 
 
 In some instances, in short, we know through what organs 
 the impulse acts, although we cannot understand why it is that 
 w. E. Q 
 
82 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 [lect. ni. 
 
 the organs should have that particular sort of impelling power. 
 In other instances we do not know the organs, or the impulse 
 on which the animal acts, but only the object designed by Pro- 
 vidence. As for instance, we can only say of migratory birds, 
 that they are impelled not by a mere desire to use their wings, 
 but to fly in a certain direction pointed out to them by God ; 
 but how pointed out, is only known to Him. 
 
 It is not my design to give a lecture on natural theology — a 
 subject which has been ably treated of by Paley and others ; 
 but I will take occasion to remark, that one of the most interest- 
 ing and important points dwelt on by these authors is, the 
 combination of physical laws with instincts adapted to them. 
 When we see a combination of causes all apparently directed 
 from various quarters to a certain end, which is accomplished 
 not by one impulse alone, but by an adaptation of several 
 impulses to certain physical laws, one of which would not be 
 effectual without the other, we cannot hesitate for a moment to 
 recognise this great principle in nature. One instance out of 
 many, of this principle, may be taken as a sample — that of the 
 instinct of suction, as connected with the whole process of rear- 
 ing young animals. The calf sucks, and its mother equally 
 desires to be disburthened of its milk. Thus there are two 
 instincts tending the same way. Moreover, the calf has an 
 appetite for grass also ; it takes hold of the grass, chews and 
 swallows it ; but it does not bite but sucks the teat. But it is 
 also necessary that there should be a physical adaptation of the 
 atmosphere to the instinct of the animal. It is the pressure 
 of the atmosphere upon the part, and the withdrawal of that 
 pressure within the young animal's mouth, which forces out the 
 milk. Here is an adaptation of instinct to the physical consti- 
 tution of the atmosphere. Yet, again, all this would be insuf- 
 ficient without the addition of that Storge, or instinctive 
 parental affection, which leads the dam carefully to watch and 
 defend its young. The most timid animals are ready to risk 
 their lives, and undergo any hardships, to protect their young. 
 
LECT. III.] 
 
 ON INSTINCT. 
 
 83 
 
 wliich is a feeling quite distinct from the gratification felt by 
 the dam from her offspring drawing her milk. Here, then, are 
 several instincts, and the adaptation of the atmosphere to one 
 of those instincts, all combining towards the preservation of the 
 species; which form, in conjunction, as clear an indication of 
 design as can be conceived. It is hardly possible to conceive 
 any plainer mark of design, unless a person were beforehand to 
 say that he intended to do a certain thing. Yet this is not all ; 
 for the secretion of milk is not common to both sexes, and all 
 ages, and all times. Here is the secretion of milk at a par- 
 ticular time, just corresponding with the need for it. If we 
 found sickles produced at harvest, fires lighted when the 
 weather is cold, and sails spread when favourable winds blow, 
 we should see clearly that these things were designed to effect a 
 certain end or object. Now, in the case of the mother and the 
 young, there is a secretion of milk at a particular period, and 
 in an animal of a distinct sex — the one which has given birth to 
 the young. Yet the perpetuation of the species might take place 
 if the milk had been so provided as to be constant and uniform 
 in all ages and sexes. But what we do see is, means provided 
 for an end, and just commensurate to that end. 
 
 I will conclude with proposing one more question, which I 
 consider well worthy of inquiry — that relating to the im- 
 planting and modification of Instinct in animals. The most 
 ■widely diffused of all implanted and modified Instincts is that 
 of Wildness or Tameness. Whether the original Instinct of 
 brutes was to be afraid of Man, or familiar with him, I will not 
 undertake to say. My own belief is, that it is the fear of Man 
 that is the implanted instinct. But at any rate, it is plain 
 that either the one or the other — wildness or tameness — must 
 be an implanted and not an original Instinct. All voyagers 
 agree, that when they have gone into a country which had not 
 apparently been visited by Man, neither bird nor beast exhibited 
 fear. The birds perched familiarly upon their guns, or stood 
 still to be knocked on the head. After the country had been 
 for some time frequented, not only individual animals become 
 
 G 3 
 
84 
 
 ON INSTINCT, 
 
 [lect. m. 
 
 afraid of Man, but their offspring inherit that fear by Instinct. 
 The domesticated young of the cow, and the young of the wild 
 cattle of the same species, furnish illustrations of this fact. I 
 have seen an account of an experiment tried with respect to 
 these latter. In this instance, a very young calf of one of the 
 breed of wild cattle still remaining in some of the forests in 
 England, on seeing a man approach, lay crouching close, and 
 preserving the most perfect stillness, apparently endeavoured to 
 escape notice. On being discovered, it immediately put itself 
 in an attitude of defence, commenced bellowing and butting at 
 the intruder with such violence that it fell forward upon its 
 knees, its limbs, from its tender age, being yet scarcely able to 
 support it. It rose and repeated the attack again and again, 
 till by its bellowing, the whole herd came galloping up to its 
 rescue. We all know how different this is from the action of a 
 young calf of the domestic breed. 
 
 To what extent Instinct is implanted in animals in conse- 
 quence of the education received by many generations of their 
 predecessors, is a point to which the attention of the curious 
 might be profitably directed. I have pointed out the road, and 
 hope that the question may lead to important inquiries upon 
 the subject. 
 
LECTURE IV. 
 
 DR. PALEY'S WORKS. 
 
 To give anything like a complete review of the Works of 
 Dr. Paley, would far exceed the limits of a single Lectm-e, or 
 even of two or three. But a few remarks on some af the most 
 important matters he has treated of, and on the manner in 
 which he has handled them, will, it is hoped (considering how 
 important those matters are, and how great his celebrity as an 
 Author), be neither uninteresting nor unin struct! ve. 
 
 The very circumstance however of his being so well-known 
 an Author may perhaps be thought by some to make any notice 
 of his Works superfluous. But in truth, though these Works 
 are much read in comparison of those of most ather writers, 
 they are less read — considering the popular character of most 
 of them — than they deserve to be. For one person that is well 
 acquainted with them, there are probably five — and those per- 
 fectly qualified to understand and to profit by the perusal — 
 who know little or nothing of them except at second-haad, and 
 by report. 
 
 On the other hand, it is far from superfluous to point out 
 some of the errors that are to be found in some of the 
 Works of this eminent man, and especially in that one — his 
 Moral Philosophj — which is in use as a University text-book. 
 
 That Work, and his Oliristian Evidences (including the 
 Horce Punlince), his Natural Theology, and his Sermons and 
 Charges, are the whole of his publications. They are all cha- 
 racterized by a remarkably clear and forcible style, very 
 simple, with an air of earnestness, generally devoid of orna- 
 
86 
 
 DR. PALEY S WORKS. 
 
 [leci. rv. 
 
 ment, and often homely ; but occasionally rising into a manly 
 and powerful eloquence. 
 
 His style is a striking contrast to that of a kind of writers, 
 who, in our day, are regarded by some with great admira- 
 tion ; Writers who affect a sort of mystical, dim, half-intelligible 
 kind of sublimity; and who, from their grandiloquent obscurity, 
 are supposed to be very profound; just as muddy water is 
 sometimes taken for deep, because one cannot see to the bottom 
 of it. 
 
 Of this class of Writers, whom the late Bishop Copleston 
 used to call " the Magic-Lantern School," Paley is the very 
 opposite. And whenever anything that is at all of the cha- 
 racter of eloquence does appear in him, it is doubly striking 
 from its standing in such a strong relief, as it were, in the 
 midst of what is so remarkably plain and unadorned. It is like 
 a gleam of bright sunshine breaking out from a generally 
 clouded sky. 
 
 The concluding passage of the norce FauKnce affords a 
 striking example of the effect thus produced. The general 
 style of the work is business-like, simple and unpretending, to 
 the greatest degree. But the winding up of the argument at 
 the conclusion is in a kind of unstudied eloquence which 
 reminds one of a lightning flash from a dark cloud. This work 
 is, as probably most of you are aware, an examination of the 
 Apostle Paul's Epistles along with the Acts of the Apostles, 
 in order to show, by internal evidence alone, that they must 
 both be genuine Works. He discovers a vast number of points 
 of coincidence between them, so minute, and evidently unde- 
 signed, that it is totally impossible they could ever have found 
 their way either into a forgery, or a compilation made up in 
 after-ages from floating traditions. And this is done so ably 
 and so satisfactorily, that I have often recommended the study 
 of this work to legal students ; not merely on account of its 
 intrinsic value, with a view to its own immediate object, but also 
 as an admirable exercise, in the art of sifting evidence. 
 
 That minuteness in the points of coincidence which I have 
 
LECT. rv.] 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 87 
 
 alluded to, and -which Paley so earnestly dwells on, is just the 
 circumstance which, in a question of evidence, makes their im- 
 portance the greater. The unthinking are apt to overlook this, 
 and to conclude that what is itself a very small and trifling 
 circumstance, is small and unimportant as a proof. But the 
 most important evidence is often furnished by things the most 
 insignificant in themselves. The impression of the sole of a 
 Man's Shoe, or a scrap of paper used as Wadding for a gun, 
 have led to the detection of crimes. And in reality it is alto- 
 gether in minute points that the difference is to be perceived 
 between truth and fabrication. A false story may easily be 
 made plausible in its general outline ; — in the great features of 
 the transactions related. But in some very minute particulars, 
 which would escape notice except on a very close examination, 
 there will almost always be found some inconsistencies, such as, 
 of course, could not exist in a true narrative. 
 
 The difference in this respect, between truth and fabrication, 
 answers to that between the productions of Nature and the 
 works of Art. Both may appear equally perfect at a slight 
 glance, or even on close inspection by the naked eye. But 
 apply a microscope to each, and you will see the difference. A 
 piece of delicate cambric, under the Solar Microscope, looks 
 like a coarse sail-cloth ; and an artificial flower, which might 
 deceive the naked eye even of a florist, will appear rugged and 
 uneven ; while the petals of a real flower, or the wing of a fly, 
 when thus examined, exhibit such delicate and perfect and 
 beautiful regularity, that " even Solomon in all his glory was not 
 arrayed like one of these." And so it is when we apply the 
 Microscope of close and minute investigation to genuine compo- 
 sitions and true history. 
 
 Paley, then, having by the application of his Microscope 
 fully established the genuineness of these Works, proceeds in 
 conclusion, to state very briefly the inference which inevitably 
 follows, considering what the matter of them is, and to whom 
 written, and hy whom, and when. 
 
 " Here then," he says, " we have a man of liberal attain- 
 
88 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 [lect. IV. 
 
 ments, and in other points, of sound judgment, who had 
 addicted his life to the service of the Gospel. We see him, in 
 the prosecution of his purpose, travelling from country to 
 country, enduring every species of hardship, encountering every 
 extremity of danger, assaulted by the populace, punished by 
 the magistrates, scourged, beat, stoned, left for dead ; expecting, 
 ■wherever he came, a renewal of the same treatment and the 
 same dangers ; yet, when driven from one city, preaching in the 
 next ; spending his whole time in the employment, sacrificing to 
 it his pleasures, his ease, his safety ; persisting in this course 
 to old age, unaltered by the experience of perverseness, ingrati- 
 tude, prejudice, desertion ; unsubdued by anxiety, want, labour, 
 persecutions ; unwearied by long confinement, undismayed by 
 the prospect of death. Such was St. Paul. We have his 
 letters in our hands : we have also a history purporting to be 
 written by one of his fellow-travellers, and appearing, by a 
 comparison with these letters, certainly to have been written by 
 some person well acquainted with the transactions of his life. 
 From the letters, as well as from the history, we gather not 
 only the account which we have stated of him, but that he was 
 one out of many who acted and suffered in the same manner ; 
 and that, of those who did so, several had been the companions 
 of Christ's Ministry, the ocular witnesses, or pretending to be 
 such, of his Miracles, and of his resurrection. We moreover 
 find this same person referring in his letters to his supernatural 
 conversion, the particulars and accompanying circumstances of 
 which are related in the history, and which accompanying cir- 
 cumstances, if all or any of them be true, render it impossible 
 to have been a delusion. We also find him positively and in 
 appropriated terms, asserting that he himself worked Miracles, 
 strictly and properly so called, in support of the Mission which 
 he executed ; the history, meanwhile, recording various passages 
 of his Ministry, which come up to the extent of this assertion. 
 
 " The question is, whether falsehood was ever attested by evi- 
 dence like this. Falsehoods, we know, have found their way 
 into reports, into tradition, into books : but is an example to be 
 met with, of a man voluntarily undertaking a life of want and 
 
LECT rv.] 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 89 
 
 pain, of incessant fatigue, of continual peril ; submitting to the 
 loss of his home and country, to stripes and stoning, to tedious 
 imprisonment, and the constant expectation of a violent death, 
 for the sake of carrying about a story of what was false, and of 
 ■what, if false, he must have known to be so ?" 
 
 Very eloquent again, though much too long for citation, is 
 the concluding chapter of the Natural Theology. 
 
 And now compare a passage of such clear, homely, forcible 
 simplicity as this, with the bombastic obscurity of such Writers 
 as it is now the fashion, with some persons, to admire as full of 
 transcendental wisdom and eloquence; and say which is the 
 more likely to be approved by those of solid good sense, and 
 pure taste ; and which, by those of an opposite character. 
 
 Here is a specimen, to which as many more might be added 
 as would fill a volume : — 
 
 Tradition is " a vast system, not to be comprised in a few 
 sentences, not to be embodied in one code or treatise, but con- 
 sisting of a certain body of truth, permeating the Church like 
 an atmosphere, irregular in its shape from its very profusion 
 
 and exuberance ; at times melting away into legend 
 
 and fable; partly written, partly unwritten, partly the inter- 
 pretation, partly the supplement of Scripture, partly preserved 
 in intellectual expressions, partly latent in the spirit and temper 
 of Christians ; poured to and fro in closds and upon the house- 
 tops, in liturgies, in controversial works, in obscure fragments, 
 in sermons^." 
 
 Again, " It [Religion] is a mountain air ; it is the embalmer 
 of the world. It is myrrh, and storax, and chlorine, and rose- 
 mary. It makes the sky and hills sublime ; and the silent 
 
 song of the stars is it Always the seer is the sayer. 
 
 Somehow his dream is told, somehow he publishes it with solemn 
 joy, sometimes with pencil on canvas, sometimes with chisel on 
 stone; sometimes in towers and aisles of granite, his soul's wor- 
 ship is builded Man is the Wonder Maker. He is seen 
 
 amid miracles. The stationaryness of religion, the assumption 
 
 ' Newman's Lectures on the Church, p. 298. 
 
90 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 [lECT. IV. 
 
 that the age of inspiration is past, that the Bible is closed ; the 
 fear of degrading the character of Jesus by representing Him as 
 a Man, indicate with suflBcient clearness, the falsehood of our 
 theology. It is the oflSce of a true teacher to show us that God 
 is, not was — that He speaketh, not spoke. The true Christi- 
 anity — a faith like Christ's in the infinitude of Man — is lost. 
 None believeth in the soul of Man, but only in some man or per- 
 son old and departed ! In how many churches, and by how many 
 prophets, tell me, is Man made sensible that he is an infinite 
 soul ; that the earth and heavens are passing into his mind ; 
 and that he is drinking for ever the soul of God ! The very 
 word Miracle, as pronounced by Christian churches, gives a 
 false impression ; it is a monster ; it is not one with the blowing 
 clover and the falling rain.' .... Man's life is a miracle, 
 
 and all that Man doth A true conversion, a true 
 
 Christ, is now, as always, to be made by the reception of 
 beautiful sentiments. The gift of God to the soul is not a 
 vaunting, overpowering, excluding sanctity, but a sweet natural 
 goodness like thine and mine, and that thus invites thine and 
 mine to be, and to grow." 
 
 " If thou hast any tidings," says Falstafi" to Pistol, " prithee 
 deliver them like a man of this world." 
 
 It is worth observing that this Writer (as well as several 
 others of these " Children of the Mist ") professes to be a 
 Christian. They believe in Christianity, all but the history and 
 the doctrines. The history they consider as partly true, but 
 partly a Myth, and partly an exaggerated and falsified report ; 
 and the doctrines as a mixture of truth with errors and pious 
 frauds. Yet though in reality much further removed from 
 Christianity than a Jew or a Mahometan, they are quite ready 
 to take that oath, " on the true faith of a Christian," which many 
 have regarded as the gi-eat bulwark of the christian character of 
 our Legislature ! And you should observe that, with hypocrisy 
 (against which, it has been most truly remarked, no legal enact- 
 ments can afford security) these persons are not at all chargeable. 
 They are to be censui-ed indeed for an unwarrantable use of the 
 terms they employ; — for inventing a new language of their own, 
 
LECT. IV.] 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 91 
 
 and calling it English. But since they tell us what it is they 
 do mean by Christianity, they cannot fairly be accused of deceif. 
 
 I ara told that the school or sect to which most of these 
 Writers belong is called " Positivityj'^ and that its doctrine is 
 the worship of Human Nature. If you have no clear notion con- 
 cerning this system, you are, probably, so far, on a level with 
 its authors. 
 
 Paley's Horoe PauKnce was, I understood, considered by him- 
 self as his Masterpiece. And in that judgment I concur. In his 
 other Works, much of the valuable matter they contain is ex- 
 tracted in a condensed form from other authors ; so that his 
 chief praise — no slight one however — is that of an able com- 
 piler. But the Sorce PauUnce is emphatically an original Work, 
 and one which exhibits in a most striking manner his peculiar 
 acuteness in sifting evidence. 
 
 It is not unlikely that this work has had the effect, among 
 others, of inciting subsequent Writers to enter on the task of 
 investigating internal evidences ; while it has furnished them 
 with an admirable example of the way in which the process is 
 to be conducted. 
 
 A most interesting Work which has appeared but a few 
 years ago. Smith's Voyage and Shipwreck of St. Paid, reminds 
 one of Paley's volume, which perhaps may in some degree have 
 suggested it. 
 
 And the same may be said of Graves's Lectures on the Pen- 
 tateuch. 
 
 Paley's longer Work on the Evidences is in a great measure 
 compiled from Dr. Lardner's Credibility of the Grospel, exhibiting 
 the main part of his arguments in a more compressed, and at 
 the same time more popular form. A still more brief, and still 
 more popular compendium, however, seemed yet wanting ; and 
 accordingly a little Tract, which most of you probably are ac- 
 quainted with, was drawn up a few years ago, containing the 
 substance of most of Paley's arguments, with the addition of 
 some others. 
 
 To that Tract, and to Paley's Evidences, and to his Horce 
 
92 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 [lect. IV, 
 
 Paulince, and to Leslie's and Lardner's Works on the same sub- 
 ject, no answer, as far as I know and believe, has ever been 
 brought forward. The opponents of Christianity always chuse 
 their own position ; and the position they chuse is always that of 
 the assailant. They bring forward objections; but never at- 
 tempt to defend themselves against the objections to which they 
 are exposed. 
 
 The cause of this it is easy to perceive. Objections — not 
 only plausible, but real, valid, and sometimes unanswerable ob- 
 jections — may be brought against what is nevertheless true, and 
 capable of being fully established by a preponderance of proba- 
 bility ; — by showing that there are more and weightier objec- 
 tions on the opposite side. If therefore any one can induce you 
 to attend to the objections on one side only, wholly overlooking 
 the (perhaps weightier) opposite ones, he may easily gain an ap- 
 parent triumph. A barrister would have an easy task if he 
 were allowed to bring forward all that could be said against the 
 party he was opposed to, and to pass over in silence all that 
 could be urged on the other side, as not worth answering. 
 
 And many of the best-established and universally admitted 
 historical facts, might in this way be assailed, by showing that 
 they are in many respects very improbable. The history, for 
 instance, of Napoleon Buonaparte has been shown to contain a 
 much greater amount of gross and glaring improbabilities than 
 any equal portion of Scripture-history ; or perhaps even than 
 all the Scripture-narratives together. And yet all believe it ; 
 because the improbability of its being an entire fabrication is 
 incalculably greater. 
 
 Again, the far greater portion of the human race have never 
 seen the Ocean ; and they believe in its existence on the testi- 
 mony — at second or third hand — of others. Now this is a thing 
 which, according to Hume, they ought not to believe on any tes- 
 timony, because it is at variance with their experience. Not only 
 have they never seen any such thing, but they have had experience 
 of ponds and rivers, all, of fresh Water ; while they are told that 
 the sea is saU ; and this, though the fresh rivers, and fresh rain, 
 
LECT. IV.] 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 93 
 
 are said to fall into it. Moreover they are told that it abounds 
 in ^5^; and they have had experience of fish living in fresh 
 Water, but none of their living in brine. And if they tried the 
 experiment of putting some river fish into brine, and found that 
 it killed them, they might say that they now knew by experi- 
 ence the falsity of what they had been told respecting the Ocean, 
 in addition to their general experience of men's telling false 
 tales. 
 
 To prove that there is nothing improhable in the existence 
 of a salt ocean covering above three-fourths of the Globe, would 
 not be easy. And yet men do believe it, and have good reasons 
 for believing it, even when they have not seen it. 
 
 And practically, all reasonable men proceed on the maxim 
 of an ancient Greek author, which is repeatedly cited by 
 Aristotle ; that " it is probable that many mprobablc things 
 will happen." 
 
 Indeed, were it not so, every intelligent and well-informed 
 man would be a prophet. By an extensive study of History, 
 and observation of Mankind, he would have learned to judge 
 accurately what kind of events are probable. And if nothing 
 ever happened at variance with probabilities, — if everything was 
 sure to turn out conformably to reasonable expectations (which 
 is just what is always assumed by anti-christian Writers), 
 then, such a person might sit down and write a prospective 
 history of the next Century; and do this as easily and as 
 correctly as he could write a history of the last century : even 
 as astronomers can calculate forwards the eclipses that are to 
 come, as easily as they can calculate backwards those that are 
 past. 
 
 Let those objectors then, who are merely objectors, try the 
 experiment of writing a conjectural prophetic history. Their 
 histories, I conceive, would be found a good deal at variance 
 with each other; and all of them, when the time arrived, at 
 variance with the events. 
 
 That most interesting and valuable Work, the Natural 
 
94 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 [LECT. IV. 
 
 Theology, it has of late been asserted was chiefly taken from 
 a Dutch Writer, with less acknowledgment than ought to have 
 been made. How the fact stands, I am not competent to 
 decide. But if it be true that Paley is more largely indebted 
 to another Writer than he has himself represented, this may 
 verily easily have happened without any designed misrepre- 
 sentation. When a Work has been long in hand — as was 
 probably the case with this one — the author is not unlikely 
 to forget the source from which he had originally derived some 
 of the facts and of the arguments which had long since become 
 familiar to him, and, as it were, a part of the furniture of his 
 mind. And he may thence occasionally fall into an unconscious 
 plagiarism. 
 
 It should be observed however, on the other hand, that 
 there are some critics who have cultivated something of the 
 mental habits of a " detective Policeman," always on the 
 look-out for stolen goods; — critics who are so anxious to 
 display their acuteness in finding plagiarisms, that if in two 
 authors they meet with the same thought, or anything that 
 can be tortured into a coincidence, they at once infer that the 
 one must have taken it from the other. 
 
 In the Natural Theology Paley has exceedingly well pointed 
 out numerous instances of evident design in the Universe, and 
 of such wise design as manifestly proves an intelligent Creator. 
 But in what he says of benevolent design, and, universally, in 
 all that relates to the Moral attributes of the Deity, he labours 
 under a disadvantage resulting from his peculiar views on the 
 subject of morality. Not that he is to be complained of for 
 not satisfactorily explaining — what no one can explain — the 
 existence of evil in the universe. But considering what a 
 mixture of good and evil actually does present itself to our 
 view, it would be impossible for Man, if he really were such a 
 Being as Paley represents him to be, to form those notions of 
 the divine benevolence which Paley himself contends for. 
 
 Man, according to him, has no moral faculty, — no power 
 of distinguishing right from wrong, — no preference of justice 
 
l ECT. rv.] 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 95 
 
 to injustice, or kindness to cruelty, except when one's own 
 personal interest happens to be concerned. And this he 
 attempts to establish by collecting all the instances that are to 
 be found iu various ages and countries, of anomalies in men's 
 moral judgment; showing that this kind of crime was approved 
 in one country, and that kind in another : that one vice was 
 tolerated in one age, and another in another. And even so, 
 one might collect specimens of anomalies in the human frame ; 
 showing that some persons have been born without arms or 
 without legs; some^ deaf-mutes, some blind, and some idiots. 
 Whence it might be inferred, that Man ought not to be 
 described as a rational Being, or one endowed with the faculty 
 of speech, or having eyes, and hands, and feet. A man then, 
 according to his view, being compelled, by the view of the 
 universe, to admit that God is benevolent, is thence led, from 
 prudential motives alone, to cultivate benevolence in himself, with 
 a view to secure a future reward. The truth, I conceive, is 
 exactly the reverse of this; viz., that Man having in himself 
 a Moral-faculty (or taste, as some prefer to call it) by which 
 he is instinctively led to approve virtue and disapprove vice, 
 is thence disposed and inclined antecedently, to attribute to 
 the Creator of the universe, — the most perfect and infinitely 
 highest of Beings, — all those moral (as well as intellectual) 
 qualities which to himself seem the most worthy of admiration, 
 and intrinsically beautiful and excellent. For, to- do evil 
 rather than good, appears to all men (except to those who 
 have been very long hardened and depraved by the extreme 
 of wickedness) to imply something of weakness, imperfection, 
 corruption, and degradation. I say " disposed and inclined," 
 because our admiration for benevolence, wisdom, &c., would 
 not alone be sufficient to make us attribute these to the Deity, 
 if we saw no marks of them in the creation ; but our finding 
 in the creation many marks of contrivance, and of beneficent 
 contrivance, together ivith the antecedent bias in our own minds, 
 •which inclines us to attribute goodness to the Supreme Being — 
 loth these conjointly lead us to the conclusion that God is infi- 
 
96 
 
 DR. PALET's works. 
 
 [lect. IV. 
 
 nitely benevolent, notwithstanding the admixture of evil in his 
 works, which we cannot account for. But these appearances 
 of evil would stand in the way of such a conclusion, if Man 
 really were, what Dr. Paley represents him, a Being destitute of 
 all moral sentiment, — all innate and original admiration of 
 goodness. He would, in that case, be more likely to come to 
 the conclusion (as many of the Heathen seem actually to have 
 done) that the Deity was a Being of a mixed or of a capricious 
 nature; an idea which, shocking as it is to every well- con- 
 stituted mind, would not be so in the least, to such a mind as 
 Dr. Paley attributes to the whole human species. 
 
 To illustrate this argument a little further ; suppose a taste- 
 ful architect and a rude savage to be both contemplating a 
 magnificent building, unfinished, or partially fallen to ruin ; 
 the one, not being at all able to comprehend the complete 
 design, nor having any taste for its beauties if perfectly 
 exhibited, would not attribute any such design to the author of 
 it, but would suppose the prostrate columns and rough stones to 
 be as much designed as those that were erect and perfect ; the 
 other would sketch out in his own mind something like the 
 perfect structure of which he beheld only a part ; and though 
 he might not be able to explain how it came to be unfinished, 
 or decayed, would conclude that some such design was in the 
 mind of the builder : though this same man, if he were contem- 
 plating a mere rude heap of stones which bore no marks of 
 design at all, would not in that case draw such a conclusion. 
 
 Or again, suppose two persons, one having an ear for 
 music, and the other totally destitute of it, were both listening 
 to a piece of music imperfectly heard at a distance, or half 
 drowned by other noises, so that only some notes of it were 
 distinctly caught, and others were totally lost or heard im- 
 perfectly ; the one might suppose that the sounds he heard 
 were all that were actually produced, and think the whole that 
 met his ear to be exactly such as was designed ; but the other 
 would form some notion of a piece of real music, and would 
 conclude that the interruptions and imperfections of it were not 
 
LECT. IV ] 
 
 DR. PALET'S works. 
 
 97 
 
 parts of the design, but were to be attributed to his imperfect 
 hearing: though if he heard on another occasion, a mere con- 
 fusion of sounds without any melody at all, he would not 
 conclude that anything like music was designed. 
 
 The application is obvious : the wisdom and goodness dis- 
 cernible in the structure of the universe, but imperfectly 
 discerned, and blended with evil, leads a man who has an 
 innate approbation of those attributes, to assign them to the 
 Author af the universe, though he be unable to explain that 
 admixture of evil ; but if Man were destitute of moral senti- 
 ments, the view of the universe, such as it appears to us, would 
 hardly lead him to that conclusion. 
 
 When the edition of Archbishop King's discourse appeared 
 (from the Appendix to which the above passage is extracted) a 
 gentleman belonging to a university in which Paley's Moral 
 Philosophy is a text-book, published a vindication of him from 
 the charge of denying the existence of a Moral-faculty. He 
 sent me, along with a very courteous letter, a copy of his work. 
 I expressed, in answer, my very great surprise that there should 
 exist any difference of opinion, not, as to the soundness of 
 Paley's view, but of what it is that he does say ; considering 
 how very perspicuous his style is. And I transcribed a short 
 passage from the Moral Philosophy, giving a reference to several 
 others ; all to the same purpose. In reply, the writer of the 
 vindication confessed that he had overlooked these passages, 
 which did, he admitted, fully bear out my remarks. 
 
 I was indeed well prepared to believe, that (as I said in the 
 opening of this Lecture) many persons hear much, and talk 
 much, of Paley's Works, while they have read little or nothing 
 of them. But that any one should publish a commentary on a 
 work which he had not read with even moderate attention, over- 
 looking a statement which is no slight incidental remark, but 
 the very basis of the whole system, — this did seem to me very 
 strange. 
 
 The passage I cited is the following, from chap. iii. *' Let 
 it be asked. Why am I obliged to keep my word ? and the 
 
 W. B. H 
 
98 
 
 DR. PALEY S WORKS. 
 
 [lect. rv. 
 
 answer will be, Because I am urged to do so by a violent 
 motive (namely, the expectation of being, after this life, re- 
 warded if I do, or punished if I do not) resulting from the com- 
 mand of another; — namely, of God. . . . Therefore private 
 happiness is our motive, and the will of God, our. rule." 
 
 Here, by the way, it is to be observed that in speaking of 
 reward, he contradicts what he had laid down in the preceding 
 chapter ; iu which he expressly excludes the idea of reward 
 from that of obligation. " Offer a man," says he, " a gratuity 
 for doing anything, he is not obliged by your offer, to do it ; 
 though he may be induced, prevailed upon, tennjied, to do it." 
 
 Again, he says in the same third chapter : " There is 
 always understood to be a difference between an act of prudence 
 and an act of duty. Thus, if I distrusted a man who owed me 
 a sum of money, I should reckon it an act of prudence to get 
 another person bound with him ; but I should hardly call it an 
 act of duty. On the other hand, it would be thought a very 
 unusual and loose kind of language, to say — that as I had made 
 such a promise, it was prudent to perform it ; or that, as my 
 friend, when he went abroad, placed a box of jewels in my 
 hands, it would be prudent in me to preserve it for him till he 
 -returned. 
 
 " Now in what, you will ask, does the difference consist? 
 inasmuch as, according to our account of the matter, both in 
 the one case and the other, — in acts of duty, as well as acts of 
 prudence, — we consider solely what we ourselves shall gain or 
 lose by the act. 
 
 " The difference, and the only difference, is this ; that, in 
 the one case, we consider what we shall gain or lose in the 
 present world ; in the other case^ we consider also what we shall 
 gain or lose in the world to come. 
 
 " They who would establish a system of morality, indepen- 
 dent of a future state, must look out for some different idea of 
 moral obligation ; unless they can show that virtue conducts 
 the possessor to certain happiness in this life, or to a much 
 greater share of it than he could attain by a different behaviour." 
 
LECT. IV.] 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 99 
 
 And the same doctrine is repeatedly and distinctly stated 
 in other places, as the very fundamental principle of the 
 treatise. 
 
 When he says that " they who would establish a system of 
 morality independent of a future state, must look out for some 
 different idea of moral obligation," it is strange it did not occur 
 to him, that, according to him, they never could possibly form 
 any idea of it at all. One might as well say, Men see with 
 their eyes, and cannot see any otherwise ; and those who have 
 no eyes, must see as well as they can without them. 
 
 And equally strange is the qualification he adds, — " Unless 
 they can show that virtue conducts the possessor to certain 
 happiness in this life, or to a much greater share of it than he 
 could attain by a different behaviour." For, by his account, 
 if they could show this (and this is what Aristotle and all the 
 ancient heathen moralists do maintain ; none of whom make any 
 reference to a future state of reward and punishment, or appear 
 to have believed in any), then, what is commonly called virtue. 
 would be merely a branch of prudence. For, " the only 
 diflFerence," — he had just said — " between an act of prudence 
 and an act of duty, depends on our looking to the present -world, 
 or to the world to come." And it is as plain as any axiom of 
 Euclid, that if you take away " the only difference^'' between two 
 things, you leave them exactly alike. 
 
 Yet Aristotle and the other ancient writers, did in common 
 with all their countrymen, use terms which we rightly translate 
 by the word " virtue ;" and always draw a distinction between 
 that and a mere regard for one's worldly interest. All which 
 would have been clearly impossible, if Paley's theory were 
 correct. It is refuted not by any alleged truth and soundness 
 in their views, but by the very language they employ. 
 
 If you could imagine a whole nation labouring under that 
 curious defect of vision which does exist in some few individuals, 
 the total non-perception of colours, you might be quite sure 
 that that nation would not have in their language any words 
 signifying red, yellow, blue, and green. And you may be no 
 
 H 3 
 
100 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 [lect. it. 
 
 leys sure that a nation which perceived no difiference between 
 virtue and self-interest, would have no such word as " virtue" 
 in their language. 
 
 But, in truth, Paley's distinction between an act of duty 
 and an act of prudence, is one which is not recognised in the 
 expressions or the notions of any class of men in any country ; 
 and amounts (as far as regards the present question) to no 
 distinction at all. Whatever is done wholly and solely from 
 motives of personal expediency, — from calculations of individ- 
 ual loss or gain — is always accounted a matter of prudence, and 
 not of virtue. If you could suppose a man who had no disap- 
 probation whatever of cruelty, injustice, and ingratitude, as 
 things bad in themselves, and who would feel no scruple 
 against committing theft or murder, if he could do so with 
 impunity,- but who abstained from such acts purely from fear 
 of suffering for it, whether in this life or the next, just as he 
 would abstain from placing his money in an insecure bank ; 
 and if he relieved the distressed, and did services to his 
 neighbours, without any kindly feeling, or any sense of duty, 
 but entirely with a view to his own advantage, hoping to 
 obtain, — suppose, — votes at an election, or some benefit in an- 
 other world, — just as a grazier feeds his cattle well, that he 
 may make the better profit of them, — we should not, if we 
 thought thus of him, call him a virtuous man, but merely 
 prudent. 
 
 Revelation was not bestowed on Mankind to impart to them 
 the first notions of moral good and evil, but to supply suffi- 
 cient motives for right practice, and sufficient strength to act 
 on those motives. And accordingly you find in the New 
 Testament that those to whom the Grospel was preached are 
 not addressed as persons having no notion of any difference 
 between right and wrong ; but are exhorted to " add to their 
 faith, virtue, brotherly love, charity," and to follow after 
 " whatsoever things are pui'e, and lovely, and honest, and of 
 good report." 
 
 And this indeed is distinctly and fully admitted by Paley 
 
LECT. IV,] 
 
 DR. PALBY's works. 
 
 101 
 
 himself; who says, in the opening of his Treatise, that " the 
 Scriptures pre-suppose in the persons to whom they speak, a 
 knowledge of the principles of natural justice; and are 
 employed, not so much to teach ntw rules of morality, as 
 to enforce the practice of it by new sanctions." It is strange 
 he did not perceive that this admission overthrows his theory 
 of the non-existence of a natural conscience. For, the far 
 greater part of those whom the New-Testament Scriptures 
 address had been brought up in Paganism ; a religious system 
 as immoral as it was absurd. They could not therefore have 
 originally derived their "principles of natural justice" from 
 calculations founded on a knowledge of the divine will ; but 
 must have had (as Paul assures us) " the law written in their 
 hearts ; their conscience also bearing witness." 
 
 But the great heathen Moralist, Aristotle, after having 
 given a full and glowing description of what virtue is, and on 
 the whole, not an incorrect one, laments (in the conclusion of 
 his treatise) that so few can be induced in practice to model 
 their life on the principles he has laid down. He is like the 
 fabled Prometheus, who was said to have succeeded in fashion- 
 ing a well-constructed human hody^ but found it a cold and 
 lifeless corpse, till he had ascended up to heaven, to bring 
 down celestial fire to animate the frame. And thus it is that 
 the writings of this, and of other Heathen Moral Philosophers 
 furnish a strong confirmation of the divme origin of our reli- 
 gion ; since it is morally impossible, humanly speaking, that 
 ignorant Galilsean peasants and fishermen could have written in 
 a moral tone partly coinciding with, and partly surpassing, 
 that of the most learned Philosophers of Greece.. 
 
 To discuss as fully as it deserves the interesting and im- 
 portant subject now before us, would, of course, far exceed the 
 limits of this Lecture. But those who do feel an interest in 
 it, may be referred to works that are quite accessible, and not 
 at all too abstruse for ordinary readers. Some of you probably 
 are acquainted with a little elementary book of Lessons on 
 
102 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 [lect. rv. 
 
 Morals, of which the greater part appeared first in the 
 periodical called the Leisure Hour, and in which the points I 
 have now slightly touched on are treated of more fully. And 
 there is an edition of selections from Aristotle's Moral Philo- 
 sophy, for the use of the students of Trinity College, Dublin, 
 which I have been accustomed to recommend even to readers 
 who understand nothing of Greek, for the sake of a disserta- 
 tion, of considerable length, in English, and in very plain 
 English, which is prefixed, and which I consider to be well 
 worth the price of the whole book'. 
 
 At present, I will only add, before quitting the subject, a 
 brief remark on the curious circumstance that Paley's doc- 
 trine of the total absence, in Man, of any Moral-faculty, is 
 strenuously maintained by a large class of persons the most 
 opposed to him as a theologian, and who regard his opinions 
 on religion as utterly unsound. 
 
 M. Napoleon Roussel is one out of many of these. He has 
 published a number of little tracts, all ingenious, and most of 
 them sound and edifying. But in one of them — The Believing 
 Infidel {L' Incredule Croijant) he strongly advocates (though not 
 more so than many other divines of a very influential school) 
 the views I have been alluding to. 
 
 The cause of this their adherence to Paley's theory I con- 
 ceive to be a well-intentioned but misdirected desire to exalt 
 God's glory, and set forth Man's sinfulness, without perceiving 
 that they are in fact doing away with both the one and the other. 
 
 If Man be naturally destitute of any faculty that distinguishes 
 right and wrong, — any notion of such a thing as Duty — then, 
 no one can be accounted sinful, any more than a brute beast, 
 or a born idiot. These do many things that are odious and 
 mischievous, and that woidd be sin in a rational Being; but 
 the term sin we never apply to their acts (any more than the 
 term folly) precisely because they lack a Moral-faculty and a 
 rational nature; — because not having a conscience, they 
 cannot violate the dictates of conscience. Indeed, an idiot 
 
 ' Since this Lecture was delivered, an edition of Paley's Moral Philoaophy with 
 Annotations has appeared. 
 
LECT. rv.] 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 103 
 
 is accordingly called, in some parts of the country, an " in- 
 nocent," on the very ground of his having this deficiency, 
 Avhich Paley and his followers attribute to all mankind. And 
 a revelation of the divine commands to a Being destitute of the 
 Moral-faculty, though it might deter him from certain acts 
 through fear of punishment, as brutes, we all know, may be so 
 influenced, would leave him still remaining (as they are) a 
 stranger to any notion of such a thing as Duty. He would be 
 no more a moral agent than a dog or a horse'. 
 
 And to speak to such a Being of the moral attributes of the 
 Deity, would be like speaking of colours to a blind-born man. 
 If he attaches no meaning to the words " good," and " just," 
 and " right," except that such is the divine command, then, to 
 say that God is good, and his commands just, is only saying in 
 a circuitous way, that He is what He is, and that what He wills 
 He wills ; which might equally be said of any Being in the 
 universe. Indeed, this is what Paley himself perceives and 
 distinctly admits. [Chap. ix.'J He admits that we attribute 
 goodness to the Most High, on account of the conformity 
 of his acts to the principles which we are accustomed to call 
 "good;" and that these principles are called "good" solely 
 from their conformity to the divine will. It is very strange 
 that when he did perceive that he was thus proceeding in 
 a circle, this did not open his eyes to the erroneousness of the 
 principle which had led him into it. 
 
 And any one would be equally involved in a vicious circle, 
 who, while he held Paley's theory, should refer to the pure and 
 elevated moral tone of the New Testament as an internal 
 evidence (and in reality it is a very strong one) to prove that 
 it could not be the unaided work of ignorant, half-crazy Jewish 
 peasants and fishermen. For, if all our moral notions are 
 entirely derived from that book, to say that the morality of 
 the book is correct, is merely to say that it is what it is. We 
 should be arguing like the Mahometans, who infer the in- 
 spiration of the Koran from the excellence of its style; they 
 having made the Koran their sole standard of style, and reckon- 
 
 • Rdnt. i U. 
 
104 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 [LECT. IV. 
 
 ing every work to be the better or the worse Arabic, in propor- 
 tion as it approaches more or less to the language of the 
 Koran. 
 
 But what tends to keep up this confusion of thought in 
 some men's minds is this ; we do conclude in this or that 
 particular inslance, that so and so is wise and good, though 
 we do not perceive its wisdom and goodness, but found our 
 conviction solely on its being the divine will. But then, 
 this is from our general conviction that God is wise and 
 good; not from our attaching no meaning to the words wise 
 and good, except the divine will. Then, and then only, can 
 the command of a Superior make anything a duty, when we 
 set out with the conviction that it is a duly to obey him. It is 
 just so, accordingly, that we judge even in what relates to our 
 fellow-men. If some measure were proposed by any friend 
 whom you kaew from his past conduct to be a very able and 
 upright man, you would presume, even before you knew any 
 particulars of that measure, that it must be a wise and good 
 one. This would be a natural and a fair mode of judging of 
 the unknown from the known. And you would think a person 
 very absurd who should thereupon conclude that you had no 
 notion at all of what is a wise and good measure, and meant 
 nothing by those words except that it is what proceeds from 
 that friend of yours. And so it is in many other cases. You 
 have read (suppose) several works of a certain author, and 
 have found them all highly interesting and instructive. If, 
 then, you hear of his bringing out a new work, you expect, 
 before you have seen it, that it will be a valuable one. But 
 this is not from your meaning by a " valuable work" nothing 
 at all but that it comes from his pen, but from your reasoning 
 — very justly — from the known to the unknown. 
 
 To infer that because this or that particular book, or 
 measure, or rule of conduct, may be presumed to be good, 
 solely on account of the person it proceeds from, therefore 
 the same may be the case with all of them collectively, would be 
 a gross fallacy, (what in logical language is called the " fallacy 
 
LECT. rv.] 
 
 DR. palsy's works. 
 
 105 
 
 of composition") and one which, in such instances as those just 
 given, would be readily detected. 
 
 A right-minded Christian then will say, " I am sure so and 
 so is right, though I do not understand why or how it is ; but 
 such is the command of my heavenly Father ; and I do under- 
 stand that I have good grounds for trusting in Him." And 
 such a man will keep clear of the presumption, calling itself 
 humility, of those who insist on it that in such and such in- 
 stances the Almighty had no reason at all for what He has 
 done, except (as they express it) to " declare his sovereignty ;" 
 and that He acted only "for his own glory ;" as if He could 
 literally seek glory ! Whenever the Most High has merely 
 revealed to us his will, we must not dare to pronounce that He 
 had no reasons for it except his will, because He has not thought 
 fit to make those reasons known to us. To say (as some 
 have presumed to say^) that He does so and so for no cause 
 whatever except that He chuses it, seems little, if at all, short of 
 blasphemy. Even an earthly king, being not responsible to 
 any of his subjects for the reasons of his commands, may 
 sometimes think fit to issue commands without explaining 
 his reasons. And it would be insolent rashness for any one 
 thence to conclude that he had no reasons, but acted from 
 mere caprice. 
 
 So also, a dutiful child will often have to say, I do so and 
 so because my kind and wise parents have commanded me: 
 that is reason enough for me." But though this is — to the 
 child — a very good reason for obeying the command, it would 
 be a very bad reason, with the parents, for giving that command. 
 And he would show his filial veneration, and trust, not by taking 
 for granted that his parents had no reason for their commands, 
 but, on the contrary, by taking for granted that there was 
 a good reason both for their acting as they did, and for their 
 withholding from him any explanation. 
 
 Paley's theory is derived (as he informs us), in great measure, 
 
 ' See Lessons on M<yral8, Less. XVIII. I i, Note. 
 
106 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 [LECT. IV. 
 
 from Tucker's Light of Nature : a work of great originality, and 
 containing much curious and valuable matter, mixed up with 
 much that is not at all deserving of approbation. It is a 
 book which I have been accustomed to compare to a gold-mine, 
 containing many particles, and some considerable masses, of 
 very precious metal, confusedly intermingled with much gravel 
 and clay. I cannot think Paley was happy in his choice of 
 the portion he has selected. He would have found a much 
 safer guide in the celebrated Bishop Butler. The denial 
 however of a Moral-faculty was no new device of Tucker's ; 
 being substantially what was maintained by the infidel Hobbes 
 in his once-celebrated work the Leviathan. And it was so far 
 from being new, then, that it is noticed by Aristotle as having 
 been maintained in his time. 
 
 It is to be observed however that Paley's fault as a Moralist 
 is chiefly one of omission. I mean, that much of what he says 
 IS truth, though far short of the whole truth ; and that he 
 arrives at many right conclusions, though based on insufficient 
 grounds. It is true, for instance, that we are commanded to do 
 what is right, and forbidden to do what is wrong ; though it is 
 not true that this is the only meaning of the words " right " 
 and " wrong." And it is true that God will reward and punish ; 
 though it is not true that a calculation of reward and punish- 
 ment constitutes the whole notion of Duty. 
 
 Accordingly, faulty as is the basis of Paley's Moral Philo- 
 sophy, there is much to approve in the superstructure. On 
 points of detail, that is, he is generally correct, and often 
 highly instructive. 
 
 Some errors, however, there are in his practical rules. And 
 one of them I will notice, because I am not aware of any one's 
 having hitherto pointed it out. In enumerating the cases in 
 which promises are not binding, he speaks of its being quite 
 evident that a promise is not binding when the performance is 
 impossible. And yet daily experience shows that this rule does 
 not hold good, except when it is distinctly stated or fully under- 
 
LECT. IV.] 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 107 
 
 stood by both parties, that the promise is to have this limita- 
 tion; that is, where you prudently insert the condition of "if 
 possible," or " I will do my utmost." But without this, any 
 one who makes an engagement is supposed to have fully con- 
 sidered all possibilities ; and if he fails, from whatever cause, 
 he is held bound to make good the damage, or to suffer the 
 blame and penalty of non-fulfilment. If for instance, a mer- 
 chant or manufacturer contracts to deliver certain goods on 
 such a day, he is never allowed to plead that the non-arrival of 
 an expected ship, or a strike of his workmen, rendered the 
 fulfilment impossible. In fact no such plea is ever put in; 
 because it is known that it would not be listened to. Every 
 court of justice would sentence him to pay damages just the 
 same as if the failure had been caused by negligence. And if 
 the other party chuses, out of compassion for an unavoidable 
 and unexpected mischance, to forego the claim, this is a matter 
 of chanty, but not a claim of right. If in short, you engage 
 mei-ely to do what you can to effect a certain object, you are 
 bound to use your best endeavours, and you are not bound to 
 succeed, nor are liable to any blame for unavoidable failure. 
 But an unconditional promise claims an unconditional fulfil- 
 ment ; and if it is not fulfilled, the other party has a right to 
 complain, and may claim any compensation that can be ob- 
 tained. 
 
 Again, there is a most objectionable doctrine maintained 
 (which, however, was the prevailing one till of late years) m 
 the second volume, that on Political Philosophy. He teaches 
 that the direct encouragement of population is the " object 
 which in all countries ought to be aimed at, in preference to 
 every other political purpose whatever." And this is to be 
 done by inducing the mass of the people to content themselves 
 with the lowest description of food, clothing, and dwellings that 
 are compatible with a bare subsistence. The result is, such a 
 condition as that of the chief portion of the population in many 
 parts of India, and in some of the worst districts of Ireland a 
 few years ago. Indeed India and Ireland are the very countries 
 
108 
 
 DR. PALEY S WORKS. 
 
 [lECT. IV. 
 
 Paley refers to with approbation. You have & swarming popu- 
 lation, very poor, debased, and leading a life approaching that 
 of savages. This is the state of things in ordinary seasons. 
 But when there comes a failure in the rice-crop or the potato- 
 crop, the people having nothing to fall back upon, perish by 
 myriads from famine and its attendant diseases. 
 
 It must be remembered, however, in Paley's favour, that 
 the above doctrine was nearly universal, up to the time when 
 Malthus wrote. And even now, persons may be found among 
 what are called " the educated classes," who decry that eminent 
 and most valuable writer. They do not indeed disprove his 
 facts, or answer his arguments. In truth, one might as well 
 talk of answering Euclid. But they misrepresent him ; which 
 is easily done to those who judge of a book merely from hearsay. 
 And they allude to him as an author long since so thoroughly 
 refuted and exploded as not to be worth notice : which is what 
 may easily be said, — though not always so easWj proved, — of 
 anything whatever. 
 
 But Paley, as I have said, is only maintaining the errone- 
 ous notions, which, up to his time, had never received, as they 
 have since, a clear refutation. 
 
 One other portion of this work of Paley's I shall briefly 
 advert to, without entering on any discussion of the subject- 
 matter of it, but merely in confirmation of my remark in the 
 outset, that his Works are much more talked of than studied. 
 
 In chap, vi., Book V., he treats of " Sabbatical institutions" 
 — the Jewish Sabbath, and the Lord's Day. And when (a good 
 many years after) the same doctrine, in substance, with his, 
 was put forth by another author, it was decried, not merely as 
 erroneous, but as an unheard-of novelty. Not merely many of 
 the illiterate, but several also who were supposed to be learned 
 Divines, spoke of it (and that in published works) as something 
 that had never before occurred to any christian writer. Now 
 it was indeed no novelty in Paley's time ; his view being what 
 ■was almost universal throughout Christendom for the first 
 
LECT. rv.J 
 
 DR. PALEY S WORKS. 
 
 109 
 
 fifteen centuries and more ; and had been set forth by Calvin 
 and others of the most eminent Reformers. But it is not 
 perhaps very strange that persons of no extensive reading, 
 should have been ignorant of ancient books, some of them in 
 Latin. But Paley's work had been for half a century a text- 
 book in a great university. And that any writer on these 
 subjects should cither be himself ignorant of its contents, or 
 should calculate on that ignorance in his readers, is really 
 wonderful. As for the soundness or unsoundness of Paley's 
 doctrine, tliat is a question of opinion, and is one on which I 
 shall not now enter. But the existence of his opinions is a 
 matter of fact ; and is a fact of which one might have sup- 
 posed all readers to be aware. But its having been thus over- 
 looked, is a strong proof of what I remarked above, that an 
 author of great celebrity may be much talked of, and yet little 
 known. 
 
 I have thought it necessary to advert — not without re- 
 luctance — to this matter, because any such error, when detected 
 (as it is sure to be, sooner or later), leads to consequences 
 extending far beyond the immediate question it may happen to 
 relate to. When a religious teacher makes such a misstatement of 
 facts as proves him to be either grossly and culpably ignorant 
 of what he ought to have clearly ascertained, or else, guilty of 
 disingenuous suppression, all the rest of his teaching is likely 
 to be regarded with a distrust, which may be undeserved, but 
 which cannot be wondered at. 
 
 In the published Sermons of Paley, there is much that is 
 highly valuable and instructive, though in some parts, what he 
 maintains is exceptionable, and has incurred from some a very 
 severe censure; a censure which I cannot think wholly un- 
 deserved, though it is so in part. He does certainly too much 
 underrate the change requisite for every man in order to 
 become acceptable to the Most High ; a change, that is, of the 
 character of Man such as Man is by nature, and left to himself 
 without the aid of divine grace, into the character of those who 
 
110 
 
 DR. PALEY S WORKS. 
 
 [lect. n-. 
 
 are " led by the Spirit of God," as the Apostle says, to become 
 " sons of God." And I think that, in treating of this subject, 
 he "was influenced for the worse by his theory of Morals. The 
 conscience (or Moral-faculty) is liable, when Man is left to 
 himself, to be perverted — to be debased — and to be deprived 
 of its rightful supremacy over the whole Man. It needs to be 
 elevated, to be corrected, and purified, and to be supported in 
 its legitimate sovereignty. But all this is likely to be over- 
 looked by one who, though himself, of course, possessing this 
 Moral-faculty (as we all do, more or less) and in some degree 
 unconsciously influenced by it, yet denies its existence, and 
 makes what is commonly called Duty to consist merely in a 
 calculation of loss and gain. 
 
 But, on the other hand, it is undeniable and is what ought 
 not to be lost sight of, that, as Paley remarks, the far greater 
 part of those whom the Apostles address were converts from 
 Paganism. Now Paganism was a religion which required (not 
 to be corrected, but) to be wholly eradicated. It was not, as 
 some are apt to suppose, merely an imperfect religion, with 
 a mixture of foolish superstitions ; but it was in fact the 
 worship of evil Demons ; and a worship corresponding with their 
 character. " Every abomination unto the Lord which He 
 hateth " (as you read in the Books of Moses), " have these 
 nations done nnto their gods ;" that is, the foulest wickedness 
 was not only tolerated and sanctioned by their religion, but 
 was, in many instances, a part of their religion. And such is 
 the case with the Hindu paganism at this day ; as we have 
 now, at least, good reason to know. 
 
 Aristotle, in his treatise on Politics, though he does not 
 venture to denounce altogether the religion of his countrymen, 
 yet expressly warns them not to allow younff persons to 
 approach the temples of those deities of whose appointed 
 worship the grossest profligacy formed an essential part ! Thus 
 religion, instead of rectifying or restraining men's natural evil 
 tendencies, was a direct source of corruption. And it may 
 well be supposed therefore that a large portion of Paul's 
 
LECT. IT.] 
 
 DR. PALEy's works. 
 
 Ill 
 
 converts were persons who had long been living a life of gross 
 profligacy. And as for the Jews, we find him declaring [Epis. 
 to the Romans] that while they prided themselves on their 
 observance of the ceremonial law, their immoral lives caused 
 the name of the Lord to be " blasphemed among the Gentiles." 
 Accordingly we find this Apostle alluding to the " former 
 conversation '' [mode of life] of his converts, " wherein in 
 times past they walked," as perfectly detestable. They had 
 been thoroughly alienated from the true God, not only in 
 practice but in principle. But no word answering to " con- 
 version " is ever employed by the Sacred Writers in reference 
 to a baptized Christian ; although they had occasion to rebuke 
 very severely some of their people (as you may see in the 
 1st Epistle to the Corinthians and elsewhere) for gross mis- 
 conduct. 
 
 As for those persons (of whom, unhappily, there are not 
 a few) who, having been born and bred in a christian country, 
 lead an unchristian life, they are doubtless under a far heavier 
 responsibility than Paul's hearers who had been brought up in 
 heathen darkness ; and the change needful for them is at least 
 as great, and perhaps more diflBcult, inasmuch as they have 
 wilfully shut their eyes to the light. But the " conversion " — 
 if that word must be used — which is needful for one wlio has 
 been brought up " in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," 
 and from a child " has known the Holy Scriptures," and with 
 whom such an education has been blest with success, — this 
 must at least be something difierent from that of a heathen, 
 or of one who has hitherto led an utterly ungodly life. And 
 it would be perhaps all the better if different words were 
 employed to denote different things ; lest the notion should be 
 encouraged, -which experience, as well as reason, shows there is 
 a danger of, — that every one must pass a certain portion of his 
 life in gross vice and irreligion, before he becomes a " converted 
 character'." 
 
 Bee Bishop Fitzgerald's Charge. 
 
112 
 
 DR. PALEY's works. 
 
 [lect. IV. 
 
 The difference between tlie two cases maybe thus illustrated : 
 a skilful gardener, if he has to deal with a wilding tree which 
 " bears evil fruit," will (as their phrase is) head it down, and 
 graft it from a good fruit-tree; not however thenceforward 
 neglecting it, but watching that the wilding stock does not 
 push out shoots which would starve the graft. If again, he 
 has in his garden a young vine of a good sort, he will pursue 
 a different plan, though he will be far from neglecting the 
 plant. He will carefully prune it, from time to time, and 
 manure it, and fence it, and do his best to protect it from 
 blights and other injuries. Now both of these procedures may 
 be called " culture ;" but they are different kinds of culture ; 
 and it is best that they should be denoted by different words. 
 
 Something like this was probably Paley's meaning ; though 
 his view is partly incorrect, in consequence of his adopting 
 that theory of morals, which (as I have ah'eady observed) is 
 strenuously maintained by many persons of a theological school 
 the most opposite to his. 
 
 You will have observed that it is as a writer on the evidences 
 of natural and of revealed religion that I consider Paley to be 
 especially eminent. Though there is nothing of his that is not 
 well worth an attentive perusal, I would place Adam Smith's 
 Theory of Moral Sentiments and his Wealth of Nations, (though 
 not regarding either as infallibly right throughout,) higher than 
 Paley's works on the same subjects. And Butler's Moral Dis- 
 courses are more valuable still. 
 
 As a writer on evidences, I have spoken of Paley already. 
 But I cannot conclude without a few very brief remarks on the 
 subject of christian evidences itself. 
 
 There are some persons who from various causes, deprecate 
 this study altogether' ; or at least would confine it to an ex- 
 ceedingly small number of learned men whose inclinations and 
 opportunities have led them to devote their lives to it. I have 
 
 ' See Cautimia for the Times, No. XI. XII. 
 
LECT. rv.] 
 
 DR. PALET'S works. 
 
 113 
 
 heard even men of good sense in other points, remark that to in- 
 vestigate all the reasons for and against the reception of Chris- 
 tianity would be more than the labour of a ■whole life ; and that 
 therefore all except perhaps some five or six out of every million, 
 had better not trouble themselves at all about the matter. It is 
 very strange that it should fail to occur to any man of good 
 sense, that it may be possible and easy, and in many cases, highly 
 desirable, to have sufficirnt reasons for believing what we do be- 
 lieve ; though these reasons may not be the twentieth part of 
 what might be adduced, if there were any need for it. Any 
 one of us, for instance, may be fully convinced, and on very 
 good grounds, that he was in such and such places yesterday, 
 and saw such and such persons, and said and did so and so. But all 
 the evidence that migJd be collected, of all this — supposing, for in- 
 stance, that this was needful with a view to some trial that was 
 going on — would perhaps fill a volume. Suppose, for example, 
 you had to repel some charge by proving an alibi ; what a mul- 
 titude of circumstances, and what a crowd of witnesses, "you 
 might bring forward to prove that you really were in such a 
 place at such a time. 
 
 In every case, except perhaps the one case of religion, every 
 one would perceive the absurdity of refusing to attend to any 
 reasons at all, because there might be a multitude of other 
 reasons also, which we had not the power, or the leisure, to inves- 
 tigate. And since therefore it has pleased the All- wise to create 
 Man a rational animal, and there is always some cause, though 
 often a very absurd one, for any one's believing or disbelieving 
 as he does, and since on all subjects men are often led to reject 
 valuable truths, and to assent to mischievous falsehoods, it is 
 surely an important part of education that men should be trained 
 in some degree to weigh evidence, and to distinguish good reasons 
 from sophistry, in any department of life, and not least in what 
 concerns religion. 
 
 But when the mass of the unlearned people (it has been 
 said) do believe in a true religion, no matter on what grounds 
 it is better to let them alone in their uninquiring faith, than to 
 W. E. I 
 
114 
 
 IE. ?ALZT"S WOSKS. 
 
 agitate and unserde their minds br telling them about eridences. 
 Thev should be kept in ignorance, we are told, that the truth of 
 ChriitianitT was erer doubted by any one ; that is, tbev must 
 be kept in ignorance no: only of the world around them, but of 
 all books of history, including the Bible. It has even beoi publicly 
 maiataiDed in a work which was the organ o£ a powerful and 
 mmiexoBs party in our Church, that an ignorant rustic who be- 
 herea Ouisdanity k> be true, merely because he has been told 
 80 bj those he kx^ up to as his superiors, has a far bittfr 
 groond for hb behrf than Paley or Grotius, or any such other 
 imt^. Kbw this b the ground on which the ancient and the 
 modem Fkgans, and the Mahometans, rest their absurd faith, 
 and r^eeS the GospeL The evidence therefore which has proved 
 MtigfaftMy to the most enlightened Christians is, it seems, ab- 
 Bolately infmor to that which is manifestly and iM>t<»iously good 
 fix- nothing! 
 
 Tet it is possible that some rf those who speak thus may 
 really believe that Christiaaity itself can stand the test of evi- 
 dence ; b«t they wish that some c>ther things should be believed, 
 -vhkh will not stand that test. They wish mm to give we«iit to 
 aone medisTal legends ef mirades, and tmsupported traditions, 
 and nev dsgmas of homan device ; and they would rather not 
 eoeoange them to cultivate the habit which the Apostle Peter 
 recofii mends, «f bdng " ready to give a reasen of their hope.'' 
 'He who is tijmg to pass a large amosnt o£ coins, some good 
 and aooie ooant^-^t, will be alarmed at seeing you apply a 
 iJiemica] test to ^e pore gold, lest you should proceed in the 
 8une vay vith tbe rest. 
 
 Others, not bdoi^ing to the party just alluded to, have pub- 
 lidj and vtrj etnm^j proclaimed their conviction that any in- 
 quiry into die eridenees of our religion is most likely to lead to 
 infiddiity. " Many thanks '.^ an infidel might reply, *' for that 
 afhnigsinn ! I want nothing more. That all inquiry, while it 
 ■will establish a bdief in what is true, will overthrow belief in 
 Cbristiamty or any oth^ impc^core, is just what /think. But 
 
LECT. IV ] 
 
 DR. PALET's works. 
 
 115 
 
 nothing coming from me could hare near the force of such an 
 admission firom you." 
 
 One is loth to attribute to vrriters who are professed advo- 
 cates of ChristianitT an insincere profession, and a disguised 
 hostility. And vet, supposing them sincere, the absurility of 
 their procedure seems almost incredible. " Save me from mv 
 friends," we may say. " and let my enemies do their worst." 
 Let one of these writers imagine himself tried in a court of jus- 
 tice, and his Counsel pleading for him in a similar manner : 
 " Gentlemen of the jury, my client is an innocent and a 
 worthy man, take my word for it : but I entreat you not to 
 examine any witnesses, or listen to any pleadbgs ; for the more 
 you inquire into the case, the more likely you will be to find 
 him guilty." Every one would say that this advocate was either 
 a madman, or else wilfully betraying his client'. 
 
 One other class of persons I shall briefly notice, in conclu- 
 sion, who take a different view, but I cannot think a right one, 
 of the study of christian evidences. They acknowledge its use 
 and necessity ; but they dislike and deplore that necessity. 
 They view the matter somewhat as any person of humane dis- 
 positi(Hi does, the arming and training of soldiers ; , acknow- 
 ledging, yet lamenting, the necessity of thus guarding against 
 insurrections at home, or attacks from foreign nations ; and 
 though, when forced into a war, he rejoices in meeting with 
 victory rather than defeat, he would much prefer peaceful 
 tranquillity. Even so, these persons admit that evidences are 
 necessary in order to repel unbelief; but all attention to the 
 subject is connected in their minds with the idea of doubt; 
 which they feel to be painfal, and dread as something sinful. 
 
 Far different however are men's feelings in reference to any 
 person or thing that they really do greatly value and admire, 
 when thev have a full and firm conviction-. Xo one in ordi- 
 nary life considers it disagreeable to mark and dwell on the 
 
 ' See Note A. at the end of this Lecture. * Coiihoii* /or tie Timm. 
 
 I 3 
 
116 
 
 DR. PALEY'S works. 
 
 [r.ECT. IV. 
 
 constantly recurring proofs of the excellent and admirable 
 qualities of some lughly valued friend — to observe bow bis 
 character stands in strong contrast to that of ordinary men ; 
 and that while experience is constantly stripping olF the fair 
 outside from vain pretenders, and detecting the wrong motives 
 which adulterate the seeming virtue of others, his sterling 
 excellence is made more and more striking and conspicuous 
 every day : on the contrary, we feel that this is a delightful 
 exercise of the mind, and the more delightful the more we are 
 disposed to love and honour him. Yet all these are proofs^ — or 
 what might be used as proofs, if needed, — of his really being of 
 such a character. But is the contemplation of such proofs 
 connected in our own mind with the idea of harassing doubt, 
 and anxious contest ? Should it not then be also delightful to 
 a sincere Christian to mark, in like manner, the proofs which if 
 he look for them, he will continually find recurring, that the 
 religion he professes came not from Man, but from God, — that 
 the Great Master whom he adores was indeed the " way, the 
 truth, and the life," — that " never man spake like this man ;" 
 — and that the Sa-cred Writers who record his teaching were 
 not mad enthusiasts, or crafty deceivers, but men who spoke in 
 sincerity the words of truth and soberness which they learned 
 from Him ? Should he not feel the liveliest pleasure in com- 
 paring his religion with those false creeds which have sprung 
 from human fraud and folly, and observing how striking is the 
 difference ? 
 
 And so also, in what is called natural theology — the proofs 
 of the wisdom, goodness and power of God — how delightful to a 
 pious mind is the contemplation of the evidence which it pre- 
 sents ! What pleasure to trace, as far as we can, the countless 
 instances of wise contrivance which surround us in the objects 
 of nature, — the great and the small — from the fibres of an 
 insect's wing, to the structure of the most gigantic animals — 
 from the minutest seed that vegetates, to the loftiest trees of 
 the forest — and to mark everywhere the work of that same 
 Creator's hand, who has filled the universe with the monuments 
 
LECT. r\'.] 
 
 DE. PALEY's works. 
 
 117 
 
 of his -wisdom ; so that we thus (as Paley has expressed it) 
 make the universe to become one vast Temple. 
 
 It is not for the refutation of objectors merely, and for the 
 conviction of doubters, that it is worth while to study in this 
 manner, with the aid of such a guide as Paley, the two volumes 
 — that of Natm-e and that of Revelation, — which Providence 
 has opened before us, but because it is both profitable and 
 gratifying to a well-constituted mind to trace in each of them 
 the evident handwriting of Him, the divine Author of both. 
 
NOTE TO LECTURE IV. 
 
 NOTE A. 
 
 In confirmatiou of what has been said, I have thought it advisa- 
 ble to subjoin extracts (to which many more might have been added) 
 from writers of different schools, to show the coincidences between 
 an avowed Atheist and professed favourers of Christianity, of different 
 parties, and the contrast they all present to the New Testament 
 writers. 
 
 " Upon the whole, we may con- 
 clude that the christian EeUgion not 
 only was at first attended with mii-a- 
 cles, but even at this day cannot be 
 believed by any reasonable person 
 without one. Mere reason is insuf- 
 ficient to convince us of its veracity ; 
 and whoever is moved by Faith to 
 assent to it, is conscious of a con- 
 tinued miracle in his own person, 
 which subverts all the principles of 
 his understancUng, and gives him a 
 determination to believe what is 
 most contrary to custom and expe- 
 rience." — Hume's Essay on Miracles 
 (at the end). 
 
 * * we are to be censured for 
 having " shifted the ground of our 
 beUef from testimony to argument, 
 and from faith to reason." * * * 
 
 In answeiing the question why 
 our rehgion is to be beUeved, " the 
 poor, ignorant, uniustructed peasant 
 will probably come nearest to the 
 answer of the Gospel. He will say, 
 ' Because I have been told so by 
 those who are wiser and better than 
 myself. My parents told me so, and 
 the clergyman of the parish told me 
 so ; and I hear the same whenever I 
 go to church. And I put confidence 
 in these persons, because it is natural I 
 that I should trust my superiors. I 
 
 I liave never had reason to suspect 
 that they would deceive me. I hear 
 of persons who contradict and abuse 
 them ; but they are not such persons 
 as I would wish to foUow in any 
 other matter of life, and therefore 
 not in religion. I was born and bap- 
 tized in the church, and the Bible 
 tells me to stay in the church, and 
 obey its teachers ; and till I have 
 equal authority for believing that it 
 is not the church of Christ, as it is 
 the Church of England, I intend to 
 adhere to it.' Now, such reasoning 
 as this win appear to this rational 
 age veiy paltiy and unsatisfactory : 
 and yet the logic is as sound as the 
 spirit is humble. And there is no- 
 thing to compare with it either in- 
 teUectuaUy, or moraUy, or reUgiously, 
 in all the elaborate defences and evi- 
 dences which would be produced 
 from Paley, and Grotius, and Sumner, 
 and Chalmers." — British Critic. 
 
 " The sacred writers have none 
 of the timidity of their modem 
 apologists'. They never sue for an 
 assent to their doctrines, but authori- 
 tatively command the acceptance of 
 them. They denounce unbehef as 
 guilt, and insist on faith as a virtue 
 of the highest order. In their ca- 
 thohc invitations, the intellectual not 
 
 1 See pp. 54-5. 
 
NOTE rO LECTURE IV. 
 
 119 
 
 less than the social distinctions of 
 mankind, are unheeded. Eveiy stu- 
 dent of their writings is aware of 
 these facts, &-c. * * * * They 
 presuppose tliat vigour of undcr- 
 staniling may consist with feebleness 
 of reason ; and that the power of dis- 
 criminating between religious truth 
 and error does not depend chiefly on 
 the culture or on the exercise of the 
 mere argumentative faculty. The 
 special patrimony of the poor and 
 illiterate — the Gospel — has been the 
 stay of countless millions who never 
 framed a syllogism. Of the great 
 multitudes who, befbre and since the 
 birth of Grotius, have lived in the 
 peace and died in the consolations 
 of our Faith, how small is the pro- 
 portion of those whose convictions 
 have been derived from the study of 
 works like his. Of the numbers who 
 have addicted themselves to such 
 studies, how smaU is the proportion 
 of those who have brought to the 
 task either learning, or leisure, or 
 industry, sufficient, <tc. * * * He 
 who lays the foundation of his faith 
 on such evidences will too com- 
 
 monly end either in yielding a 
 credulous and therefore an infirm 
 assent, or in reposing in a self-suf- 
 ficient and far more hazardous in- 
 credulity." — Edinburgh Review, 
 
 " This beginning of miracles did 
 Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and mani- 
 fested his glorj', and his disciples 
 beUeved on Him." 
 
 " We know that thou art a teacher 
 sent from God ; for no man can do 
 these miracles that thou dest except 
 God be with him." 
 
 " If I had not done among them 
 the works that none other man did, 
 they had not had sin." 
 
 " The works that I do in my 
 Father's name, they bear witness of 
 mo." 
 
 " Him God raised up, and showed 
 Him openly ; not to all the people, 
 but to witnesses chosen afore of God, 
 even to us," &c. 
 
 "To Him bear aU the Prophets 
 witness." 
 
 " Be always ready to give to every 
 one that asketh you, a reason of the 
 hope that is in you," &c. 
 
LECTURE V. 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 It is not my design to treat of the wondrous antiquities of 
 Egypt ; its Hieroglyphics, its Temples, and its pyramids ; nor 
 shall I attempt any description of the extraordinary physical 
 features of the country; one portion of it an unreclaimable 
 desert, another — close bordering on that — of an admirable fer- 
 tility, almost rainless, but well watered by the Nile. 
 
 On these subjects many curious and interesting works have 
 been written, which will well repay perusal ; but I think it will 
 also be interesting, and not altogether unprofitable, to bring 
 before you a few brief notices of the political and social con- 
 dition of the country, its government, and the habits and 
 notions of the people. For, the Egyptian Pyramids do not 
 differ more from our buildings, or the ancient hieroglyphics from 
 our writing, than the Egyptian institutions, and customs, and 
 modes of thought, do from ours.. 
 
 The particulars which I propose to lay before you are what 
 I have learned from some friends who have lately been residing 
 in Egypt. The great mass of the population of Egypt consists 
 of what are called Fellahin, which is the plural of Fellah. They 
 are Mahometans, and their language is Arabic ; but they are 
 believed by all the most competent judges to be a mixed race, 
 partly Arabs and partly Coptic, derived from intermarriages be- 
 tween Arabians and those Copts — the ancient possessors, as is 
 generally believed, of Egypt — who have embraced the Mussul- 
 man faith. There are also, on the borders of the desert, many 
 tribes of Bedouins, who are pure Arabs, and are described as 
 
LECT. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 121 
 
 differing considerably in features from the above. Then there 
 are Copts, though in no great numbers (about 217,000), who 
 have remained separate, and retain the profession of Christianity. 
 But the Coptic language, in which their Scriptures are written, 
 and their religious Service performed, is a dead language. There 
 are also in Egypt a few scattered Syrian and Greek Christians, 
 and a very small number of Armenians. The Jews are esti- 
 mated at about 5000, though some estimate them at nearly 
 •twice that number; and the Turks, who hold almost all the 
 chief oiBces, and the greater part of the property, are supposed 
 not to exceed 10,000, out of a total population believed to be 
 about five millions. These speak the Turkish language ; and 
 many of them know little or nothing of any other. 
 
 The Government, as has almost always been the case with 
 all Oriental nations, is purely monarchical. Egypt is reckoned 
 a portion of the Ottoman Empire, and is governed by a Viceroy. 
 But the Viceroy is something intermediate between an indepen- 
 dent sovereign and a provincial governor; and the oflSce is under- 
 stood to be hereditary. Tribute is paid to the Turkish Sultan, 
 and nominally allegiance to him is professed ; but the Viceroy, 
 though always a Turk by extraction, if not by birth, governs, in 
 most points, according to his own pleasure, and in some instances 
 has even waged war with the Sultan. Much mutual jealousy 
 almost always prevails ; the more, because the terms of the 
 connexion are undefined and uncertain, so that intrigues and 
 counter-manoeuvres are perpetually going on ; the one party 
 wishing to establish a more complete dependence, and the other 
 a more complete independence, of Egypt on Constantinople. 
 But as for any constitutional check on the Ruler's power, for 
 the protection of the subjects' liberty, that is a thing unknown 
 among Orientals. 
 
 An absolute monarchy, we, and the people of many other 
 European nations, would probably consider as, on the whole, a 
 bad institution. But there are several points in which the 
 expectations which many persons might be inclined to form 
 respecting such a government would be the reverse of the facts. 
 
122 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 [lect. 
 
 Thej might expect it to possess — with all its evils — some advan- 
 tages which experience shows it does not possess. 
 
 For instance, it might naturally he expected that under a 
 despotism, the persons appointed to each oflBce would he, if not 
 really the most fit, yet at least selected as being believed so : the 
 Sovereign having his choice unrestricted by considerations of 
 parliamentary influence, which, in a representative government, 
 often render necessary the advancement of those whom the 
 Sovereign does not really prefer. And again — an absolute, 
 monarchy might — as some would suppose, visit with such sum- 
 mary and severe punishment (though sometimes, perhaps, over- 
 severe) any misconduct of oiBcials, as most effectually to deter 
 from wrong-doing. No one, in short, would be able, it might 
 be thought, to purchase either undeserved promotion, or im- 
 punity for abuse of power, by his own or his family's popular 
 influence. 
 
 And this was the very argument urged (according to the 
 testimony of several independent witnesses) by a late eminent 
 European Autocrat, to justify his avowed and deep detestation 
 of a constitutional monarchy. A pure republic, it is said, or 
 an absolute king, he did not object to ; but a limited regal 
 government, with a popular representation, he considered as the 
 very hot-bed of such corruption as he boasted of being exempt 
 from. 
 
 But now, how stand the facts, as reported by all, without 
 exception, who have had opportunities of ascertaining them? 
 There is, in the very empire of that Autocrat, more corrupt 
 administration of justice, more peculation, more malversation of 
 every kind, among officials, going on every year, than among us 
 in half a century. And, by the testimony of all travellers, 
 there is in Egypt a still greater amount of all these abuses. 
 
 One of the appointments which the Sultan of Constantinople 
 retains in his own hands, is that of the chief Cadi (the head 
 magistrate) of the city of Cairo. It is notoriously sold to the 
 best bidder ; and that, from year to year — for he must be an- 
 nually confirmed in his post. And the Turk who has purchased 
 
LECT. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OP EGYPT. 
 
 123 
 
 it comes from Constantinople, quite ignorant, for the most part, 
 of the Lmguage of the people whose judge he is to be, and bent 
 on reimbursing himself as amply as possible for his outlay. 
 
 Now, let any one consider what would be our condition, if 
 our chief magistrates were sent from France or Spain, quite 
 ignorant of our language, having purchased their offices, and 
 possessing summary jurisdiction without the intervention of a 
 
 jury. 
 
 And the other Officials in Egypt seem, by all accounts, to 
 be intent only on squeezing as much profit as possible out of 
 those placed under them, without the slightest regard to justice 
 or to humanity. For nothing can be more erroneous than the 
 notion that a despot, though he may himself fleece and oppress 
 his people, will effectually prohibit others from doing so. On 
 the contrary, he is himself continually cheated by his subordi- 
 nates ; and they plunder and tyrannize over his people. 
 
 You are probably aware that it is on canals for carrying the 
 Nile-water for irrigation that the cultivation of Egypt almost 
 entirely depends. A traveller, who remarked the ill -cultivated 
 condition of a certain district, was informed, in reply to his in- 
 quiry, that this was from its canal not having been cleaned out 
 for several years. This operation is essential, because else the 
 bed soon becomes choked up with mud. The persons, it seems, 
 whose office it is to see that the canals are duly cleaned out, 
 receive a salary equal to about 50/. of our money. But they can 
 make 200?. or 300/. a-year by taking bribes to report work done 
 that has not been done. One inspector was said to have gained 
 two thousand dollars in one year for false reports. 
 
 It was proposed to an Egyptian Viceroy to substitute for 
 an immense number of wind-mills which grind corn for his army, 
 a steam-mill which would perform the work at half the cost. 
 But the proposal was not adopted, partly, it seems, because 
 there are about 500 persons employed about the mills, well paid, 
 and with little to do ; and partly because there are a few per- 
 sons of great influence to whom the existing system is advan- 
 tageous ; not more than three-quarters of the wheat that is sent 
 
124 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 [lect. v. 
 
 to the mills returning. Some part of the profit finds its way as 
 hush-money to the subordinate ofiicers ; but the greater part to 
 those high in ofiice. 
 
 Again, it being proposed to make a canal in a place where it 
 was much needed, a person in high office was sent to have the 
 ground inspected, and a report made of the cost. The engineer 
 whom he employed sent in an estimate of 40,000 labourers for 
 two months. But it so happened, in this case, that the scheme 
 of peculation which had been formed was defeated by the 
 inspection of another person in office (sent down on account of 
 suspicions which had arisen), who ascertained that about 6000 
 workmen could easily complete the work in a fortnight. The 
 engineer admitted this to him, but assured him that he had 
 been ordered to make the estimate he did, and that he thought 
 he miyht escape punishment for that falsification, while he was 
 quite certain that if he refused, his destruction was inevitable!' 
 Of course the difference between the estimated and the real cost, 
 had been designed to go into the pocket of the Commissioner. 
 
 All who have the superintendence of public works are 
 authorised to press the Fellahs into the service, at a rate of 
 wages fixed for them, and of which the far greater portion is 
 paid them in kind ; that is, in food of the coarsest and worst 
 description ; and they are kept to work by overseers, literally 
 under the lash. But these are degrees of cruelty which are 
 generally disapproved by the greater part even of the Turkish 
 Officials. One of them was asked, on one occasion, by an- 
 other, who was on a visit to him, whether the report was 
 true which he had heard, of his employing a somewhat novel 
 mode of keeping his workmen in order, by putting them be- 
 tween two boards and sawing them asunder when they dis- 
 pleased him. He replied by owning that he had formerly 
 resorted to that mode, but that he had discontinued it, from 
 finding that it " did not answer." The other observed to my 
 informant that he could not have partaken of the man's coffee 
 if he had been pursuing such a course ; but that as it seemed 
 he had left it off, he had not scrupled to drink coffee with him. 
 
LECT. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 125 
 
 As for ptihlic spirit, it is a thing which, under a despotism, 
 is so little looked for, or believed in, that a man who evinces 
 any, is likely to be at once suspected of some secret sinister 
 design. For instance, a person in oflBce, who was desirous of 
 improving the sanitary condition of the people, and who was 
 inclined to attribute much of the prevailing mortality to the 
 over-crowded state of the villages, applied to have a return 
 made out of the area and the population of each village. He 
 was immediately dismissed from the then Viceroy's service. It 
 was supposed impossible he could make such inquiries but 
 from some secret evil design of his own. 
 
 It might be supposed, however, by some, that, though a 
 despot is not always well served, such a government as that of 
 Egypt would at least have the advantage of complete and 
 prompt obedience from the subjects, though its commands might 
 sometimes be harsh ; and that there would be nothing corre- 
 sponding to that evasion or defiance of law, which sometimes 
 occurs in free countries. 
 
 But here again the fact is at variance with such an expecta- 
 tion. Those brought up under an arbitrary government, and 
 accustomed to consider that, even with the most blameless con- 
 duct, they have no security for their persons or property, — such 
 men are found (1) to regard the government as their natural 
 enemy, which it is right and advisable always to defeat or 
 escape from, when possible; and (2) to become reckless of the 
 future; — a future which admits of no certain calculation. And 
 they thence eagerly seize on any immediate advantage, and 
 take their chance for what may follow. 
 
 One instance, may serve as a specimen of this. A person 
 employed by the Viceroy to construct some docks, told uiy 
 informant the following anecdote : — 
 
 When I was making those docks, I found the expense of 
 obtaining Puzzuoli -cement from Italy, considerable. A sample 
 of clay fit for the purpose was brought to me, and I ascertained 
 that it was to be found at Goures (a village on the Nile). I 
 went thither, sent for the chief man [or Sheich] and told him 
 
126 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 [lect. v. 
 
 that I understood that there was in the lands of his village the 
 clay of which I showed him a specimen. His countenance fell, 
 and he assured me that the whole bed had been worked out. 
 I walked over the village, and soon found that the stratum, 
 instead of being exhausted, was, in fact, almost inexhaustible. 
 Half the land belonging to the village consisted of it. There- 
 upon I ordered him to provide within a fixed time a certain 
 number of bricks. As soon as I heard that they were ready I 
 went to look at them, but found them unburnt. 
 
 "■ ' We cannot,' said the Sheich, ' burn bricks in this village 
 except when the Nile is at its lowest. At present it fills our 
 kilns. We are forced to send our clay to Upper Egypt, if it is 
 to be burnt.' I looked at his kilns, and, in fact, they were full 
 of water. But as they stood many feet above the level of the 
 Nile, and the Nile was then increasing, it was obvious that the 
 water had been deposited not by the Nile, but by the villagers. 
 It was just the trick of an Egyptian ; capable of deceiving a 
 Turk, but no one else. ' You rascal,' I said, ' the governor of 
 the province comes here this evening, and five minutes after 
 you will be hanged before your own door.' These people have 
 no pity themselves, and never believe that they shall be treated 
 with pity. He fully expected to be hanged ; he tore his haich, 
 he covered himself with sand, he threw himself on the ground, 
 he kissed my shoe, and the skirt of my coat ; and when I seized 
 him to raise him up, his hand was icy. I gave him hopes of 
 forgiveness if the bricks were duly burnt. The next day, as I 
 returned from looking at the preparations for heating the kilns, 
 I found my boats full of sheep and calves and fowls. ' They 
 are a present,' said my servant, ' from the Sheich.' He had 
 recourse to the argument which he thought most likely to 
 soften me ; and it was with great diiSculty that I made him 
 understand that they must be taken back." 
 
 " Were the villagers paid for their work ?" I asked. 
 
 " They were supposed to be paid," he answered, but the 
 appointed scale was low, and a great part — perhaps the whole 
 of what they were entitled to — was intercepted in its progress. 
 
LECT. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 127 
 
 The treatment of the Israelites in the time of Moses is a fair 
 specimen of the administration which now prevails in Egypt, 
 and probably has prevailed for the last 5000 years. Want of 
 straw, or even want of clay would no more be admitted as an 
 excuse by the officers of the Pasha than it was by the officers of 
 Pharaoh. " Ye are idle, ye are idle," would be the answer. 
 
 One advantage, however, that of security, many would ex- 
 pect to find in a despotic government. In a free country those 
 who are disafiected to the government may be carrying on plots 
 that are strongly suspected, or even sufficiently known, to leave 
 no moral doubt on any one's mind, yet of which no legal proof 
 can be obtained. Or they may keep within the letter of the 
 law in proceedings quite contrary to the spirit of it ; and if a 
 new Act of Parliament be passed to meet the case, they may 
 find some new evasion of the new enactment. In an absolute 
 monarchy, on the contrary, the least suspicion of .any design 
 against the ruler's person or power is visited with summary 
 vengeance. And though the innocent are likely often to suffer 
 with the guilty, it might be supposed that the guilty would 
 have no chance of escape, and that all plots would be nipped in 
 the bud. But the fact is otherwise ; and it confirms the Latin 
 proverb that " He who is feared by many must live in fear of 
 many." ( Necesse est multos timeat, qiiem mnlti timent.) 
 
 A late Viceroy of Egypt having been found dead in his bed, 
 it was certified by the surgeons appointed to examine the body, 
 that he had died of apoplexy. They are believed to have re- 
 ceived instructions to that effect from persons whom they dared 
 not disobey. But few have an^ doubt that he was smothered 
 by some of his domestics. Two men are pointed out, and well 
 known as the perpetrators — or among the perpetratoi'S — of the 
 deed. But they enjoy perfect impunity, inasmuch as it had 
 been officially and publicly stated that the death was natural. 
 Some believe that only those two persons were concerned ; others 
 say five. And while some attribute the act to threats which 
 the Viceroy had uttered against these men, others think that 
 the assassination was planned by some members of his own 
 
128 PRESENT STATE OP EGYPT. [lect. v. 
 
 family. But amidst all those conflicting opinions, all except a 
 very few, agree that assassination did take place. 
 
 This man, however, it must be owned, was far beyond the 
 average in point of tyranny. It is reported, that when some of 
 the many palaces he built (for that was his passion) shall be 
 pulled down, there will be fearful revelations made ; for he is 
 commonly believed to have been in the habit of ordering a man 
 to be huilt up within a wall. And it is certain that on one 
 occasion he sewed up with his own hands the mouth of one of 
 the women of his harem, and ?o left her to die of hunger, for 
 having transgressed an order of his against smoking. He 
 spoke of it himself to the person who told my informant, and 
 who had remarked on his fingers being bloody. It is remark- 
 able, however, that the representations, current in Europe of 
 this monster, were far less unfavourable than what are circu- 
 lated respecting his successor ; a Viceroy about whom there are 
 indeed great diiferences of opinion, but who is allowed by all to 
 be at least better than the other. The supposed reason of this 
 is, that the one paid, and the other refused to pay, a large 
 stipend to the correspondent of an influential English news- 
 paper. If the editor of a journal be himself inaccessible to 
 bribes, it does not follow that all his foreign agents will be so. 
 
 But despots who govern with much less cruelty than the 
 man just mentioned, yet generally govern so as to make their 
 overthrow desirable to a large portion of their subjects. Tax- 
 payers who had not ready money to pay their taxes, but only 
 produce, paid their taxes in kind (and some, I believe, were 
 compelled to pay in kind rather than in money), at a rate fixed 
 hij the collector, who valued their corn or other produce at about 
 one-half of the market-price. And public creditors, many of 
 them persons whose land had been taken from them with the 
 promise of an annual payment in lieu of it, were paid the same 
 mmher of piastres as had been originally fixed, the piastre 
 meantime having been reduced to less than a quarter of its 
 proper value — from about tenpence English, to about nine 
 farthings. 
 
XECT. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OP EGYPT. 
 
 129 
 
 The pressing of soldiers, also, is a dreadful hardship to 
 many of the peasants, who have families dependent on their 
 labour for support. My informant one day, seeing a poor 
 woman sobbing bitterly, inquired of her the cause of her grief. 
 She was a widow, with one daughter and one son. On his 
 labour they had subsisted, and he being just carried off to the 
 army, she and her daughter, she said, must starve. When my 
 friend soon after met with a troop of recruits marching to the 
 depot, he did not wonder to see them chained two and two. 
 
 Now, people who are thus governed are apt to think (though 
 often very erroneously) that any change is likely to be for the 
 better. 
 
 But whatever may be the condition of the subjects of an 
 absolute monarchy, the Royal family — aU its members — many 
 would suppose to be kept in the enjoyment of everything that 
 the present life can bestow. On the contrary, their lives are 
 not safe from one another, and their domestic happiness is 
 cruelly sacrificed. This arises in great measure from the 
 Turkish law of succession, which makes the crown descend, not 
 to the son necessarily of the last sovereign, but to the eldest 
 male of the family ; often, therefore, to a brother or a nephew, 
 if there be any older than the Sultan's or Viceroy's son. 
 Hence the well-known practice among the Turkish rulers of 
 cutting off their brothers ; and the total amount of royal infan- 
 ticide that goes on is what sounds to European ears almost 
 incredible. But it is well known that a brother or younger son 
 of a Turkish sovereign is to have no children, A daughter, 
 indeed, or sister of the sovereign may rear female children, but 
 males must be cut off as soon as born. No issue whatever, 
 male or female, is allowed to the brother or younger son. The 
 unnatural law of succession is thus eluded by unnatural ex- 
 pedients. 
 
 And of the children of the sovereign himself — often very 
 numerous — not above one in ten, scarcely, perhaps, one in 
 twenty, are reared. They are entrusted from infancy to the 
 care — if such a word as care can be so applied — of persons, 
 
130 
 
 PKESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 [LEfT. V. 
 
 many of whom either wish them to die, or do not care for 
 them; and they often fall a sacrifice to wilful neglect. 
 
 With . such a low tone of morality, and so little regard for 
 human life, and without any such reference to public opinion as 
 exists among us, it may easily be understood how unsafe must 
 be the lives of persons of high family or station, and those 
 connected with them. Well authenticated instances indeed of 
 persons who have been secretly made away with, it is, of course, 
 difficult to produce, on account of that very state of things 
 which renders such occurrences probable. It is likely that 
 many cases of this kind which are reported are not true, and 
 that very many more have occurred which were hardly at all 
 suspected. Poison, there is no doubt, is not unfrequently 
 resorted to. " One instance I " (said a friend of mine) " know 
 of, in which there is every reason to believe poison to have been 
 administered to a European, who narrowly escaped with life." 
 
 The expression is not uncommon of a person's having " ta- 
 ken a cup of coffee too much." On every occasion of a visit, 
 cofifee is presented, which it would be reckoned uncivil to re- 
 fuse ; and this affords a most favourable occasion for poisoning. 
 
 The carelessness about human life and human happiness or 
 suffering which 1 have just adverted to, is one of the most 
 curious characteristics of Oriental character, especially when 
 contrasted with their scrupulous tenderness towards the brute 
 creation. Bacon, in his Essay on Goodness [what in modern 
 language is called "benevolence''], remarks that it is so essen- 
 tial a part of Man, that when not exercised towards his fellow- 
 men, it finds, as it were, a kind of vent towards other animals. 
 " The Turks," says he, "are a cruel people, but yet they are 
 kind to beasts." Two centuries and a half after Bacon's time, 
 this is the statement given to my friend by a resident in Cairo. 
 " The remark that Orientals are not to be judged according to 
 European notions, is so obvious that it has become trite ; but 
 on no point is the difierence between the two minds more 
 striking than in the respect for life. 
 
 " The European cares nothing for brute-life. He destroys 
 
fJlCT. v.] 
 
 PBEPENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 131 
 
 the lower animals without scruple whenever it suits his con- 
 /enience, his pleasure, or his caprice. The Mussulman pre- 
 serves the lives of the lower animals solicitously. I say the 
 'ives; for they do sometimes ill-use their beasts of burden, 
 ;hough they scruple to hill, except for food or in self-defence, 
 rhough the Mussulman considers the dog impure, and never 
 nakes a friend of him, he thinks it sinful to kill him, and 
 lUows the neighbourhood, and even the streets, of his towns, to 
 )e infested by packs of masterless brutes which you would get 
 •id of in London in one day. The beggar Joes not venture to 
 lestroy his vermim ; he puts them tenderly on the ground, to 
 )e caught up into the clothes of the next passer-by. There are 
 lospitals at Cairo for superannuated cats, where they are fed at 
 ;he public expense. 
 
 " But to human life he is utterly indifferent. He extinguishes 
 t with much less scruple than that with which you shoot a 
 lorse past his work. Abbas, the last Viceroy, when a boy, had 
 lis pastrycook bastinadoed to death. Mohammed Ali mildly 
 'eproved him for it, as you would correct a child for killing a 
 butterfly. He explained to his little grandson that such things 
 )ught not to be done without a motive." 
 
 The slight sketch I have given of an Oriental system of 
 government may perhaps have caused you to doubt how far the 
 loet's assertion is borne out, who says — 
 
 " Of all the various ills that men endure 
 How small the part that kings can cause or cure." 
 
 Jut it would be most unfair to attribute to misgovernment all 
 —or all the most important — of the evils that are to be found 
 a Egypt and in other Eastern countries. A large portion is 
 he result of the gross ignorance and strange superstitions of the 
 leople ; and how far — or whether at all — the Government is 
 esponsible for that ignorance and ill-education, it would not be 
 !asy to decide. 
 
 One of the most noxious of their superstitions (as far as 
 
 K 3 
 
132 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF E<iYPT. 
 
 [lect. v. 
 
 regards temporal well-being) is their dread of the evil eye. The 
 notion is very widely spread in the East, and very ancient; so 
 as to have gi^n a tinge to popular language. For though 
 there is a Greek word answering to our word " envy," the 
 New Testament writers generally use the expression of " evil 
 eye ;" as for instance, " Is thine eye evil because I am good ? " 
 i.e., " Art thou envious because I am bountiful ?" 
 
 Bacon, in his Essay on Envij, speaks of the notion as 
 prevalent among ourselves in his time, and as one to which he 
 did not altogether himself refuse credence. 
 
 " There be none of the affections," he says, *' which have 
 been noted to fascinate or bewitch, but love and envy, they 
 both have vehement wishes ; they frame themselves readily into 
 imaginations and suggestions ; and they come easily into the 
 eye, especially upon the presence of the objects ; which are the 
 points that conduce to fascination, if any such thing there be. 
 We see likewise, the Scripture calleth envy an evil eye ; and 
 the astrologers call the evil influences of the stars evil aspects ; 
 so that still there seemeth to be acknowledged in the act of 
 envy an ejaculation or irradiation of the eye. Nay, some have 
 been so curious as to note that the times when the stroke or 
 percussion of an evil eye doth most hurt, are when the party 
 envied is beheld in glory or triumph; for that sets an edge 
 upon envy ; and besides, at such times the spirits of the persons 
 envied do come forth most into the outward parts and so meet 
 the blow." Bacon might have added that the very word 
 " invidere," from which our word " envy" is derived, signifies 
 originally, casting a hostile look on some one. 
 
 " I once in Cairo," said my friend, " conversed on this 
 superstition with an intelligent Cairan, who described it as the 
 great curse of his country. 
 
 " Does the mischievous influence of the evil eye," he was 
 asked, " depend on the will of the person whose glance does the 
 mischief?" 
 
 " Not altogether," he answered : " an intention to harm may 
 render more virulent the poison of the glance ; but envy, or the 
 
i.Ecr. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 133 
 
 desire to appropriate a thing, or even excessive admiration, may 
 render it hurtful, without the consciousness, or even against the 
 will, of the offender. It injures most the thing that it first hits. 
 Hence the bits of red cloth that are stuck about the dresses of 
 women, and about the trappings of camels and horses, and the 
 large spots of lampblack on the foreheads of children. They are 
 a sort of conductors. It is hoped that they will attract the 
 glance, and exhaust its venom." A fine house, fi.ne furniture, a 
 fine camel, and fine horse, are all enjoyed with fear and trem- 
 bling, lest they should excite envy and bring misfortune. A 
 butcher would be afraid to expose fine meat, lest the evil eye of 
 passers-by, who might covet it, should taint it, or make it spoil, 
 or become unwholesome. 
 
 Children are supposed to be peculiai'ly the objects of desire 
 and admiration. When they are suffered to go abroad, they are 
 intentionally dirty and ill-dressed, but generally they are kept at 
 home, without air or exercise, but safe from admiration. This 
 occasions a remarkable difference between the infant mortality in 
 Europe and in Egypt. In Europe, it is the children of the rich 
 that live ; in Egypt, it is the children of the poor. The children 
 of the poor cannot be confined. They live in the fields. As 
 soon as you quit the city, you see in every clover-field, a group, 
 of which the centre is a tethered bufi"alo, and round it are the 
 [ children of its owner, with their provision of bread and water, 
 ' sent thither at sunrise, and to remain there till sunset, basking 
 in the sun, and breathing the air from the desert. The Fellah 
 I children enter their hovels only to sleep ; and that, only in the 
 I winter. . In summer, the days and nights are passed in the open 
 air ; and notwithstanding their dirt and their bad food, they grow 
 up healthy and vigorous, except when sufi"ering from ophthalmia, 
 as numbers do. The children of the rich, confined by fear of the 
 evil eye, to the harem, are puny creatures, of whom not a fourth 
 part reaches adolescence. Achmet Pasha Jahir, one of the 
 governors of Cairo under Mohammed Ali, had two hundred and 
 eighty children ; only six survived him. Mohammed Ali himself 
 had eighty-seven ; only ten were living at his death. " I believe," 
 
 I 
 
134 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 [lect. v. 
 
 he added,' that at the bottom of this superstition is an enor- 
 mous prevalence of envy among the lower Egyptians. You see 
 it in all their fictions. Half of the stories told in the coffee- 
 shops by the professional story-tellers, of which the Arabian 
 Nights are a specimen, turn on malevolence — malevolence, not 
 attributed, as it would be in European fiction, to some insult or 
 injury, inflicted by the person who is its object, but to mere 
 envy ; envy of wealth, or of the other means of enjoyment, 
 honourably acquired and liberally used." 
 
 I ought not to omit mentioning, while on this subject, that a 
 little son of the present Viceroy is placed under the care of an 
 English nurse, with the express stipulation that she is to have 
 the uncontrolled management of him. Accordingly, he is kept 
 clean and well clad, and runs about in the open air, in defiance 
 of the " evil eye," to the gi'eat astonishment of every one. 
 
 This superstition appears to prevail equally among the Ma- 
 hometans and the Christians. But each class have also some 
 of their own. 
 
 The Coptic Patriarch, in a conversation at which my in- 
 formant was present, complained that his people who wert 
 pressed for recruits to the army, were often compelled by theii 
 comrades to become Mussulmans against then- will, by forcing 
 flesh-meat down their throats on a fast- day. They believed, h( 
 said, that this compulsory defilement cut them off finally fron 
 the christian Church; and that they might as well becomi 
 Mussulmans at once. Why does not your Holiness, it was asked 
 grant a dispensation for such cases ? He answered that h' 
 did; but that his people often refused to avail themselves oj 
 it. And he mentioned an instance of a sick woman whom thj 
 physicians had ordered to take nourishing food, as essential t\ 
 her recovery. The Patriarch permitted and enjoined her to d 
 so ; but she persisted in fasting, and died. 
 
 It is curious to observe the coincidence between the supersti 
 tion of these poor people and that of the Hindus, who believ 
 that a man who has a piece of beef forced down his throat, o 
 who is tricked into tasting it, loses caste irretrievably. And th 
 
LECX. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 135 
 
 Indian mutineers sedulously spread the false report that the 
 British had a design thus to deprive them of their religion with- 
 out their own consent. It does not appear that they had any 
 dread of the missionaries ; because every one is at liberty to 
 listen to them or not, at his own choice. But it certainly would 
 be possible for a Crovernment — though no British Government 
 would ever have such a thought — to make Hindus lose caste (as 
 Tippoo Sahib is said to have done in some instances), without 
 their own consent. That a similar notion should prevail among 
 any denomination of Christians with regard to their religion, is 
 what few would have anticipated. If those poor people had 
 been rightly instructed from their childhood, they would have 
 learned, that, though compliance, when practicable, with the rules 
 of their Church in matters originally indifferent, is a duty, " the 
 kingdom of heaven," as Paul tells the Romans, " is not meat 
 and drink but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost." 
 
 But the Coptic, in which the Scriptures are read to the 
 people is, as I have already mentioned, a dead language, under- 
 stood by few, if any, of the laity, and very imperfectly, it is said, 
 by many of the clergy. 
 
 Among the Mussulmans, one of the most hurtful supersti- 
 tions is the Mahometan doctrine of fatalism. I say the '■^Ma- 
 hometan doctrine," because this differs from the complete, 
 consistent fatalism which teaches that all things are alike fated, 
 the means as well as the ends, and which, therefore, does 
 not necessarily exercise any influence on the conduct. It is told 
 of the famous Roman stoic, Cato, that one of his slaves, who 
 was about to be punished for stealing, endeavoui-ed to shelter 
 himself under the stoical doctrine of fatalism, saying that he 
 was fated to be a thief ; " and to be flogged," replied his mas- 
 ter. One who believes that the husbandman who is fated to 
 reap must have been fated to sutv, and that he whose destiny is 
 to be idle is destined to starve ; who holds that if he is predes- 
 tined to commit a murder, he is fated to be hanged for it ; such a 
 one may be in his conduct uninfluenced by his speculative belief. 
 
136 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 [lect. v. 
 
 But Mahomet taught a fatalism independent of human actions. 
 Those who have fallen in a certain battle, the Mussulman does 
 not describe as predestined to go to the battle ; but hold that 
 if they had stayed at home, they would have dropped down dead 
 at the very same time. 
 
 Now it is true indeed that this doctrine is one which no one 
 does, or can, carry out in practice thoroughly and constantly. 
 No one doing so could live a week ; for he would not move out 
 of the way of an advancing carriage, or sea-tide, but would say, 
 if I am destined to be crushed or drowned, nothing can save 
 me ; and if I am fated to escape, nothing can destroy me. But 
 though no one constantly acts on such a principle, many of the 
 Mussulmans do act on it very frequently, when it affords a plea 
 for their habitual indolence and carelessness, or for following any 
 inclination. It is well known how difficult it is to induce them 
 to take the most obvious precautions against infectious diseases 
 and epidemics. And, it was remarked to my informant, in re- 
 ference to the capture of the important town of Kars, which 
 might easily have been saved if prompt supplies had been sent 
 to it, that the Mussulman plea for the gross neglect shown, 
 probably was, " if Allah wills that Kars shall be taken, nothing 
 we can do will save it, and if it is his decree that it shall stand, 
 it will stand without our exertions." And he added instances 
 of persons who when a crime was proved against them, calmly 
 replied that it was the " will of Allah." 
 
 A population, such as that of Egypt at the present day, 
 sunk in the ignorance and superstitions that prevail, could not 
 be at once raised into civilization and prosperity, even by the 
 most just and benevolent and enlightened government. 
 
 But there is some hope that increased intercourse with 
 Europeans, caused by the transit line to India, may in time 
 benefit both the rulers and the people, and gradually cause some 
 rays of light to penetrate the gloom, and to dispel some of the 
 intellectual and moral darkness — even a darkness that may be 
 
LECT. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 137 
 
 felt" — which overspreads the land, like that literal darkness in 
 the days of Moses. 
 
 And no doubt such an effect would be produced in no long 
 time, and indeed would have been perceptibly produced before 
 now, if the Europeans in Egypt were much more like what 
 Christians ought to be, than, unhappily a large portion of them 
 are. Their vices, and their manifest carelessness about their 
 own religion, constitute one of the greatest hindrances to the 
 improvement of Egypt. Of all the European Christians resident 
 in that country, the Italians, and still more, the Greeks, are said 
 to bear the worst character. But I grieve to say that not a few 
 of our own countrymen have a heavy share in this awful respon- 
 sibility. And far worse is the professed Christian who, either in 
 Egypt, or here, is leading an unchristian life — far worse, both in 
 himself, and in the effects of his example on others, than the 
 unenlightened Egyptian or Turk. Worse in himself, because he 
 has had, and has abused greater advantages ; and "of him to 
 whom much is given, much will be required ; " and more hurtful 
 to others, because it is Gospel truth that his conduct tends to 
 bring into disrepute ; even as Paul, in the Epistle to the Romans, 
 reproaches some of his countrymen with causing " the name of 
 God to be blasphemed among the Gentiles." 
 
 One important advantage to ourselves may be derived, I 
 think, from the contemplation — painful as it is to a generous 
 mind— of such a government as that of Egypt and some other 
 countries. It may lead us to prize as we ought, with contented 
 thankfulness, the blessings of our own Constitution. By " con- 
 tent," I do not mean that we should abstain from seeking by 
 legitimate means a remedy for any defects we may observe, and 
 should aim at no improvements in any department of Government. 
 Indeed, it is one of our chief blessings, and the glory of our 
 constitution, that legitimate means are within our reach ; that 
 the nation can make known its complaints, or wants or wishes, 
 in a better mode than by insurrection or assassination. But I 
 mean that we should not murmur at not having reached a 
 
138 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 [lect. v. 
 
 perfection beyond what can reasonably be looked for in any 
 human institution ; that we should not complain of imaginary 
 grievances, nor exaggerate real ones; nor seek to subvert all 
 that is established, because we do not find the earth converted 
 into a Paradise. 
 
 If, on the one hand, our Government, with all its faults 
 either in theory, or' in the administration of it, be, as some are 
 disposed to think, the best on the whole, or one of the best, that 
 exists, or ever did exist, that is no reason why we should not 
 seek by lawful means to render it still better. And, on the other 
 hand, its falling short of complete perfection, is no reason why 
 we should ungratefully shut our eyes to the benefits we do pos- 
 sess, and which so many other nations want. To regard indeed 
 with proud and exulting scorn, and hard-hearted self-congratula- 
 tion, the inferiority, the defects, and the misfortunes of others, 
 this would, no doubt, be most ungenerous. But to dwell with 
 eagerness, with triumphant invective, and with scornful and 
 light-hearted ridicule, on the defects, real or fictitious, of our own 
 constitution, this shows (to say the least) a very unamiable levity 
 of character, and tends to no good result. 
 
 I am alluding particularly to the tendency of some modern 
 writers, such as are noticed in an able article in the Edinburgh 
 Review ; writers who, with Auch wit and power of description, 
 find amusement for themselves and their readers in the keen 
 pursuit and exposure of everything faulty, or which can be 
 represented as faulty, in every portion of our whole system ; 
 exaggerating with eager delight every evil they can find, and 
 fixing on it like a raven pouncing on a piece of carrion ; invent- 
 ing such as do not exist, and keeping out of sight whatever is 
 well done and unexceptionable. 
 
 The general drift of such publications is to lead to the con- 
 clusion, that with all our boasted institutions and precautions, we 
 are the worst governed people upon earth ; that all our preten- 
 sions to justice or wisdom are a mere delusion ; and that our 
 Law-courts, and Parliaments, and Public OflSces of every descrip- 
 
LECT. V.J 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 139 
 
 tion, are merely a cumbrous machinery for deceiving, and plun- 
 dering, and oppressing the people. 
 
 I am not speaking now of an occasional bitter sarcasm such 
 as may be allowably thrown out in the course of an argumenta- 
 tive work (designed to call serious attention to some particular 
 abuse, or imminent danger), but of what are avowedly works of 
 amusement, and the main staple of which is to hold up all our 
 institutions to ridicule mixed with abhorrence, in a sort of moral 
 pillory. 
 
 If a work of this character were put in the way of an Orien- 
 tal despot (and, for aught I know, this may have actually been 
 done), he would be not unlikely to say — " Since it appears, by 
 your own showing, that, with all the troublesome machinery of 
 judges and juries. Lords and Commons, long pleadings, and long 
 debates, you are utterly misgoverned, and all your public men, 
 appointed with so many forms and so much care, are continually 
 contriving how to repress merit, and to leave business undone, 
 your best course will be to sweep away all these things as useless 
 incumbrances, and establish an absolute monarchy like mine. 
 With less trouble, matters miyht go on better, and evidently 
 could not, by your owa. account, go on worse." And he might 
 add — " One advantage you would certainly gain at once ; such a 
 writer as this I have been now reading, if he should presume to 
 write in a similar tone about the new Government, would at 
 once lose his head." For, during a late Viceroyalty of Egypt, 
 several headless trunks were at one time exhibited in Cairo; 
 each with a label on his breast, declaring that they had made too 
 free use of their tongues. It had been strictly forbidden to talk 
 about the war then going on in Syria ; and these men had been 
 guilty of telling or of asking news. 
 
 Much greater licence is used in tins country, wretchedly 
 enslaved as it is represented to be. The writers I have alluded 
 to give us to understand that the business of the country is done 
 very slowly and very ill ; that inventors and projectors of im- 
 provements are always treated with insolent neglect ; that the 
 
140 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. [i^cT. v. 
 
 Government is conducted by, and for, a few aristocratic families, 
 whose whole public life is a constant career of personal jobs; and 
 that judges, ministers of state, and all other officials, are in a 
 conspiracy to defeat justice, and to shelter cruel oppressors. 
 These are rather serious charges, which are much less true 
 in this country, where they are freely circulated, than in 
 several other countries where — because they are true, it would 
 not be safe to publish them. 
 
 But these writers, many will say, and doubtless with truth, 
 do not mean all, or half, of what they set forth. They only dress 
 up their tales with exaggeration, to give them a piquancy for the 
 entertainment of their readers ; they heighten their descriptions 
 to display their eloquence, either in the tragic or the comic vein. 
 It is " the fool," according to Solomon, that " scattereth fire- 
 brands, arrows, and death, and saith, am I not in sport?" 
 
 The direct and immediate tendency of such representations 
 is towards revolution — such a revolution as is aimed at by 
 that small number of persons who call themselves Chartists, or 
 Christian Socialists. But it is probable that though such be the 
 direct tendency of their representations, the practical effect on 
 the minds of the greater part of the Public, is to render them 
 incredulous as to real and remediable defects, and indifferent 
 about really needful reforms. They understand that these 
 over-wrought representations are merely for dramatic effect — 
 that the whole is but a joke — a piece of wag2;ery designed for 
 present entertainment, and that there is nothing in the whole 
 subject calling for any serious attention; but that when we 
 have closed the book, we have only to awake as it were from a 
 lively dream, and go about our business with a happy conviction 
 that the whole is unreal. 
 
 To one of these writers it would be a fair retribution, and 
 might supply a useful lesson, that he should be visited, himself, 
 with a horrible dream. I would wish him to dream that he was 
 a peasant under an Oriental despotism. Let him dream that he 
 was taxed at the arbitrary will of the sovereign, and that he had 
 
LECT. v.] 
 
 PRESENT STATE OF EGYPT. 
 
 141 
 
 to pay his taxes in kind, his produce being valued at about half 
 the market price. Let him next dream that a great part of his 
 land was taken from him, he receiving in return a rent of so 
 many piastres ; and the piastre being afterwards reduced to one- 
 fourth of its original value, the nominal payment remaining the 
 same. Let him dream that he was pressed to labour, under the 
 lash, on some public work, at low wages, of which four-fifths 
 were paid in food, consisting of hard, sour biscuit. Next, let 
 him dream, that having been robbed or defrauded by a Turk, 
 and going to a magistrate for redress, whom he was obliged to 
 bribe to hear his cause, he found that, after all, his opponent 
 had bribed higher ; and that besides losing his cause, he was bas- 
 tinadoed till he had confessed that he had brought a false 
 charge. Then let him dream that he saw his grown-up son, on 
 whom he had relied for the future support of the family, dragged 
 off in chains as a conscript soldier. And lastly, let him dream 
 that this son having deserted, and been concealed by him, both 
 received sentence of death. On awaking, he would be inclined 
 to doubt whether ours really is the worst possible govern- 
 ment. 
 
 And as for those wlio, in Ireland, post up placards, de- 
 nouncing as oppressive and persecuting every Government that 
 does not allow them to oppress and persecute others, and calling 
 on all Irishmen to follow tlie example of the brave Sepoys — 
 those brave Sepoys who show their valour by torturing and mur- 
 dering helpless women and children, but in the battle-field are 
 always routed by a fourth part of their number of our gallant 
 countrymen — as for those who exhort Irishmen to follow that 
 example, by slaughtering man, woman, "and child of the Saxon 
 race, I would wish one of them to dream that he was under the 
 rule of a Hindu Prince, to whom he had submitted on a promise 
 of safety and protection, and who proceeded to fulfil his promise 
 in Oriental style, by wreaking his vengeance on him for being, 
 though not a Saxon, at least an European, and (most unfairly) 
 for being a Christian ; unfairly, I say, since in everything but 
 
142 
 
 PRESENf STATE OP EGYPT. 
 
 [LECT. V, 
 
 the name, he is most emphatically rm-Christian. Let him 
 dream that he sees his wife and daughters outraged, mutilated. 
 And tortured to death, and his infants dashed on the pavement, 
 while he himself is being gradually and slowly hacked to pieces 
 by ferocious barbarians, one degree, though only one degree, 
 less detestable than himself, inasmuch as they were brought up 
 heathens, and do not call themselves Christians. 
 
 And when he awoke, he would probably exclaim with joy, 
 ** Thank God, it was but a dream ! Thank God, I am under a 
 British sovereign 1 " 
 
LECTURE Vr. 
 
 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 To treat of the works of Bacon generally, would require, — 
 if it were not to be done in a meagre and unsatisfactory man- 
 ner, — not one lecture, but a course of lectures, of no inconsider- 
 able length. And even of his volume of Essays alone, to say 
 all that would be pertinent and interesting concerning such a 
 vast variety of subjects, and his mode of treating of them, would 
 far exceed my present limits. 
 
 I propose, therefore, merely to lay before you a few remarks 
 on that work generally, and on a few of the Essays in particular, 
 taken as specimens. 
 
 Perhaps it may be thought by some to be a superfluous task 
 to say anything at all concerning a work which has been in 
 most people's hands for about two centuries and a-half ; and has, 
 in that time, rather gained than lost in popularity. But there 
 are some qualities in Bacon's writings to which it is important 
 to direct, from time to time, especial attention, on account of a 
 tendency often showing itself, and not least at the present day, 
 to regard with excessive admiration writers of a completely op- 
 posite character; — those of a mystical, dim, half-intelligible 
 kind of affected grandeur. 
 
 It is well known what a reproach to our climate is the pre- 
 valence of fogs, and how much more of risk and of inconveni- 
 ence results from that mixture of light and obscurity than from 
 the darkness of night ; but let any one imagine to himself, if he 
 can, a mist so resplendent with gay prismatic colours, that men 
 should forget its inconveniences in their admiration of its beauty, 
 and that a kind of nebular taste should prevail, for preferring 
 
144 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. yi. 
 
 that gorgeous dimness to vulgar daylight ; nothing short of this 
 could aflbrd a parallel to the mischief done to the public mind 
 by some late writers both in England and America ;— a sort of 
 " Children of the Mist," who bring forward their speculations, 
 —often very silly, and not seldom very mischievous, — under 
 cover of the twilight. They have accustomed their disciples to 
 admire as a style sublimely philosophical what may best be de- 
 scribed as a certain haze of words imperfectly understood, 
 through which some seemingly original ideas, scarcely dis- 
 tinguishable in their outUnes, loom, as it were, on the view, in a 
 kind of dusky magnificence, that greatly exaggerates their real 
 dimensions. 
 
 In the October number of the Edinburgh Review (p, 513), 
 the reviewer, though evidently disposed to regard with some 
 favour a style of dim and mystical sublimity, remarks, that " a 
 strange notion, which many have adopted of late years, is, that 
 a poem cannot be profound unless it is, in whole or in part, 
 obscure; the people like their prophets to foam and speak 
 riddles." 
 
 But the reviewer need not have confined his remark to 
 poetry ; a similar taste prevails in reference to prose writers 
 also. " I have ventured," says the late Bishop Copleston, in 
 a letter published in the memoir of him by his nephew, " to 
 give the whole class the appellation of the 'magic-Ian thorn 
 school,' for their writings have the startling eifect of that toy ; 
 children delight in it, and grown people soon get tired of it." 
 
 One may often hear some writers of the magic-lanthorn 
 school spoken of as possessing wonderful power, even by those 
 who regret that this power is not better employed. " It is a 
 pity," we sometimes hear it said, " that such and such an author 
 does not express in simple, intelligible, unaffected English such 
 admirable matter as his." They little think that it is the 
 strangeness and obscurity of the style that make the power dis- 
 played seem far greater than it is ; and that much of what they 
 now admire as originality and profound wisdom, would appear, 
 if translated into common language, to be mere common- place 
 
LECT. Vl.'] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 145 
 
 matter. Many a work of this description may remind one of 
 the supposed ancient shield, which had been found by the anti- 
 quary, Martinus Scriblerus, and which he highly prized, in- 
 crusted as it was with venerable rust. He mused on the splendid 
 appearance it must have had in its bright newness; till, one day, 
 an over-sedulous housemaid having scoured off the rust, it turned 
 out to be merely an old pot lid. 
 
 It is chiefly in such foggy forms that the metaphysics and 
 theology of Germany, for instance, are exercising a greater 
 influence every day on popular literature. It has been 
 zealously instilled into the minds of many, that Germany 
 has something far more profound to supply than anything 
 hitherto extant in our native literature ; though what that 
 profound something is, seems not to be well understood by 
 its admirers. They are, most of them, willing to take it for 
 granted, with an implicit faith, that what seems such hard 
 thinking must be very accurate and original thinking also. 
 What is abstruse and recondite they suppose must be abstruse 
 and recondite wisdom ; though, perhaps, it is what, if stated in 
 plain English, they would throw aside as partly trifling truisms, 
 and partly stark folly. 
 
 It is a remark that I have heard highly applauded, that a 
 clear idea is generally a little idea ; for there are not a few 
 persons who estimate the depth of thought as an unskilful 
 eye would estimate the depth of water. Muddy water is apt 
 to be supposed deeper than it is, because you cannot see to 
 the bottom; very clear water, on the contrary, will always 
 seem less deep than it is, both from the well-known law of 
 refraction, and also because it is so thoroughly penetrated by 
 the sight. Men fancy that an idea must have been always 
 obvious to every one, when they find it so plainly presented to 
 the mind, that every one can easily take it in. An expla- 
 nation that is perfectly clear, satisfactory, and simple, often 
 causes the unreflecting to forget that they had needed any 
 explanation at all. 
 
 Now Bacon is a striking instance of a genius who could 
 
146 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 think so profoundly, and at the same time so clearly, that an 
 ordinary man understands readily most of his wisest sayings, 
 and, perhaps, thinks them so self-evident as hardly to need 
 mention. But, on re-consideration and repeated meditation, 
 you perceive more and more what extensive and important 
 applications one of his maxims will have, and how often it 
 has heen overlooked : and on returning to it again and again 
 fresh views of its importance will continually open on you. 
 One of his sayings will be like some of the heavenly bodies 
 that are visible to the naked eye, but in which you see con- 
 tinually more and more, the better the telescope you apply to 
 them. 
 
 The " dark sayings," on the contrary, of some admired 
 writers, may be compared to a fog-bank at sea, which the 
 navigator at first glance takes for a chain of majestic moun- 
 tains, but which, when approached closely, or when viewed 
 through a good glass, proves to be a mere mass of unsub- 
 stantial vapours. 
 
 A large proportion of Bacon's works has been in great 
 measure superseded, chiefly through the influence exerted by 
 those works themselves ; for, the more satisfactory and effectual 
 is the refutation of some prevailing errors, and the establish- 
 ment of some philosophical principles that had been overlooked, 
 the less need is there to resort, for popular use, to the arguments 
 by which this has been effected. They are like the trenches 
 and batteries by which a besieged town has been assailed, 
 and which are abandoned as soon as the capture has been effected. 
 
 " I have been labouring," says some writer who had been 
 engaged in a task of this kind (and Bacon might have said 
 the same) — " I have been labouring to I'ender myself useless." 
 Great part, accordingly, of what were the most important 
 of Bacon's works are now resorted to chiefly as a matter of 
 curious and interesting speculation to the studious few, while 
 the effect of them is practically felt by many who never read, 
 or perhaps even heard of them. 
 
 But £is Essays retain their popularity, as relating chiefly 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 147 
 
 to the concerns of every- day life, and which, as he himself 
 expresses it, " come home to men's business and bosoms." 
 
 To treat fully of the design and character of Bacon's 
 greater works, and of the mistakes — which are not few or un- 
 important — that prevail respecting them, would be altogether 
 unsuited to this occasion. But it may be worth while to intro- 
 duce two brief remarks on that subject. 
 
 (1.) The prevailing fault among philosophers in Bacon's 
 time, and long before, was hasty, careless, and scanty observa- 
 tion, and the want of copious and patient experiment. On 
 supposed facts not carefully ascertained, and often on mere 
 baseless conjecture, they proceeded to reason, often very closely 
 and ingeniously; forgetting that no architectural skill in a 
 superstructure will give it greater firmness than the foundation 
 on which it rests ; and thus they of course failed of arriving at 
 true conclusions ; for, the most accurate reasoning is of no avail, 
 if you have not well-established facts and principles to start from. 
 
 Bacon laboured zealously and powerfully to recall philo- 
 sophers from the study of fanciful systems, based on crude 
 conjectures, or on imperfect knowledge, to the careful and 
 judicious investigation, or, as he called it, " interrogation" and 
 "interpretation of nature;" the collecting and properly ar- 
 ranging of well-ascertained facts. And the maxims which 
 he laid down and enforced for the conduct of philosophical 
 inquiry are universally admitted to have at least greatly con- 
 tributed to the vast progress which physical science has been 
 making since his time. 
 
 But though Bacon dwelt on the importance of setting out 
 from an accurate knowledge of facts, and on the absurdity 
 of attempting to substitute the reasoning-process for an in- 
 vestigation of nature, it would be a great mistake to imagine 
 that he meant to disparage the reasoning-process, or to sub- 
 stitute for skill and correctness in that, a mere accumulated 
 knowledge of a multitude of facts. And any one would be 
 far indeed from being a follower of Bacon who should despise 
 logical accuracy, and trust to what is often called experience ; 
 
 L 3 
 
148 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [LECT. VI. 
 
 meaning by that an extensive but crude and undigested ob- 
 servation. For, as books, though indispensably necessary for a 
 student, are of no use to one who has not learned to read, 
 though he distinctly sees black marks on white paper, so is all 
 experience and acquaintance with facts unprofitable to one 
 whose mind has not been trained to read rightly the volume of 
 nature and of human transactions spread before him. 
 
 When complaints are made — often not altogether without 
 reason — of the prevailing ignorance of facts, on such or such 
 subjects, it will often be found that the parties censured, 
 though possessing less knowledge than is desirable, yet possess 
 more than they know what to do with. Their deficiency in 
 arranging and applying their knowledge, in combining facts, 
 and correctly deducing, and rightly employing, general prin- 
 ciples, will be perhaps greater than their ignorance of facts. 
 Now, to attempt remedying this defect by imparting to them 
 additional knowledge, — to confer the advantage of wider ex- 
 perience on those who have not skill in profiting by experience, — 
 is to attempt enlarging the prospect of a short-sighted man by 
 bringing him to the top of a hill. Since he could not, on the 
 plain, see distinctly the objects before him, the wider horizon 
 from the hill-top is utterly lost on him. 
 
 In the tale of Sandford and Merton, where the two boys 
 are described as amusing themselves with building a hovel, 
 they lay poles horizontally on the top, and cover them with 
 straw, so as to make a flat roof; of course the rain comes 
 through ; and Master Merton proposes then to lay on more 
 straw. But Sandford, the more intelligent boy, remarks, that 
 as long as the roof is flat, the rain must sooner or later soak 
 through ; and that the remedy is, to alter the building, and 
 form the roof sloping. Now, the idea of enlightening incorrect 
 reasoners by additional knowledge, is an error analogous to 
 that of the flat roof. Of course knowledge is necessary ; so is 
 straw to thatch the roof; but no quantity of materials will 
 be a substitute for understanding how to build. 
 
 But the unwise and incautious are always prone to rush 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 149 
 
 from an error on one side into an opposite error. And a 
 reaction accordingly took place from the abuse of reason- 
 ing, to the undue neglect of it, and from the fault of not 
 sufficiently observing facts, to that of trusting to a mere ac- 
 cumulation of ill-arranged knowledge. It is as if men had 
 formerly spent vain labour in threshing over and over again 
 the same straw, and winnowing the same chaff, and then 
 their successors had resolved to discard those processes alto- 
 gether, and to bring home and use wheat and weeds, straw, 
 chaff, and grain, just as they grew, and without any pre- 
 paration at all. 
 
 If Bacon had lived in the present day, I am convinced he 
 would have made his chief complaint against unmethodized 
 inquiry, and careless and illogical reasoning; certainly, he 
 wouhl n^t have complained of Dialectics as corrupting philo- 
 sophy. To guard now against the evils prevalent in his time, 
 would be to fortify a town against battering-rams instead of 
 against cannon. 
 
 (2.) The other remark I would make on Bacon's greater 
 works is, that he does not rank high as a " natural philosopher.'* 
 His genius lay another way; not in the direct pursuit of 
 physical science, but in discerning and correcting the errors of 
 philosophers, and laying down the principles on which they 
 ought to proceed. According to Horace's illustra-tion, his 
 office was not that of the razor, but the hone, " acutum reddere 
 quae ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi." 
 
 The poet Cowley accordingly has beautifully compared 
 Bacon to Moses, 
 
 - " Wlio did upon the very border stand 
 Of that fair promised land ;" 
 
 who had brought the Israelites out of Egypt, and led them 
 through the wilderness to the entrance into the land flowing 
 with milk and honey, which he was allowed to view from the 
 hill-top, but not himself to enter. 
 
 It requires the master-mind of a great general to form 
 
150 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 the plan of a campaign, and to direct aright the movements of 
 great bodies of troops : but the greatest general may perhaps 
 fall far short of many a private soldier in the use of the musket 
 or the sword. 
 
 But Bacon, though far from being -without a taste for the 
 pursuits of physical science, had an actual inaptitude for it, 
 as might be shown by many examples. The discoveries of 
 Copernicus and Galileo, e.g., which had attracted attention 
 before and in his own time, he appears to have rejected or 
 disregarded. 
 
 But one of the most remarkable specimens of his inapti- 
 tude for practically carrying out his own principles in matters 
 connected with Physical Science, is his speculation concerning 
 the well-known plant called misselto. He notices the popular 
 belief of his own time, that it is a true plant, propagated by 
 its berries, which are dropped by birds on the boughs of other 
 trees, a fact alluded to in a Latin proverb applicable to those 
 who create future dangers for themselves ; for, the ancient 
 Romans prepared birdlime for catching birds from the misselto 
 thus propagated. Now this account of the plant, which has 
 long since been universally admitted, Bacon rejects as a vulgar 
 error, and insists on it that misselto is not a true plant, but an 
 excrescence from the tree it grows on ! 
 
 Nothing can be conceived more remote from the spirit of the 
 Baconian philosophy than thus to substitute a random con- 
 jecture for careful investigation: and that, too, when there 
 actually did exist a prevailing belief, and it was obviously 
 the first step to inquire whether this were or were not well- 
 founded. 
 
 But rarely, if ever, do we find any such failures in Bacon's 
 speculations on human character and conduct. It was there 
 that his strength lay ; and in that department of philosophy it 
 may be safely said that he had few to equal, and none to excel 
 him. 
 
 His Essays contain many admirable specimens of this his 
 characteristic kind of wisdom, and on a few of them, taken as 
 
bacon's essays. 
 
 161 
 
 specimens, I shall offer some brief remarks. But it may be 
 proper to premise, in reference to the title of " Essays," that 
 it has been considerably changed in its application since the 
 days of Bacon. By an Essay was meant, according to the ob- 
 vious and natural sense of the word, a slight sketch, to be 
 filled up by the reader; — brief hints designed to be followed 
 out, — loose thoughts on some subject, thrown out without much 
 regularity, but sufficient to suggest further inquiries and re- 
 flection. Any more elaborate, regular, and finished composition, 
 such as in our days often bears the title of an *' essay," our 
 ancestors called a treatise, tractate, dissertation, or discourse. 
 But the more unpretending title of " essay " has in great 
 measure superseded those others which were formerly in use, 
 and more strictly appropriate. 
 
 I have adverted to this circumstance, because it ought to 
 be remembered, that an essay in the strict and original sense 
 of the word — an essay such as Bacon's — was designed to be 
 suggestive of further remarks and reflections, and, in short, to 
 set the reader a thinMng on the subject. With an essay in the 
 modern sense of the word, it is not so. If the reader of what 
 was designed to be a regular and complete treatise on some sub- 
 ject (and which would have been so entitled by our forefathers) 
 makes additional remarks on that subject, he may be understood 
 to imply that there is a deficiency and imperfection — a some- 
 fhing wanting — in the work before him ; whereas to suggest 
 such further remarks — to give outlines that the reader shall fill 
 up for himself— is the very object of an essay properly so called, 
 such as those of Bacon. 
 
 He is throughout, and especially in his Essays, one of the 
 most suggestive authors that ever wrote ; and it is remarkable, 
 thatj compressed and pithy as his Essays are, and consisting 
 chiefly of brief hints, he has elsewhere condensed into a still 
 smaller compass the matter of most of them. In his Rhetoric, 
 he has drawn up what he calls " Antitheta," or common- 
 places " — locos — pros and cons — opposite sentiments and rea- 
 sons on various points, most of them the same that are dis- 
 
152 bacon's essays. Tlect. VI. 
 
 cussed in the Essays. It is a compendious and clear mode of 
 bringing before the mind the most important points in any 
 question, to place in parallel columns, as Bacon has done, what- 
 ever can be plausibly urged, fairly or unfairly, on opposite 
 sides; and then you are in the condition of a judge, who has to 
 decide some cause after having heard all the pleadings. 
 
 I will select a few examples from those Essays which cor- 
 respond with certain heads m the Antitheta. E.g., in the 
 Essay on NolUity (in the sense of high birth) he says — after 
 having treated of it first as a " portion of an estate/' i.e., in 
 modern English, of an ordtr of nobles as a part of the consti- 
 tution : — 
 
 " As for nobility in particular persons ; it is a reverend thing to 
 see an ancient castle, or building, not in decay, or to see a fair timber 
 tree sound and perfect ; how much more, to behold an ancient noble 
 family, which hath stood against the waves and weathers of time ? 
 for new nobility is but the act of power, but ancient nobility is the 
 act of time. Those that are first raised to nobility, are commonly more 
 virtuous, but less innocent, than their descendants ; for there is rarely 
 any rising but by a commixture of good and evil arts : but it is reason 
 the memory of their virtues remain to their posterity, and their faults 
 die with themselves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth industry ; 
 and he that is not industrious, envieth him that is : besides, noble 
 persons cannot go much higher : and he that standeth at a stay when 
 others rise, can hardly avoid motions of envy. On the other side, 
 nobility extinguisheth the passive envy from others towards them, 
 because they are in possession of honour. Certainly, kings that have 
 able men of their nobility shall find ease in employing them, and a 
 better slide into their business ; for people naturally bend to them 
 as born in some sort to command." 
 
 Now observe how he condenses the chief part of this in his 
 Antitheta : — 
 
 "XOBIUTAS. 
 PRO. " CONTRA. 
 
 * * * " Earo ex virtute nobilitas : 
 
 " Xobilitas laiu-ea, qua tempus rarius ex nobilitate virtus. 
 
 homines coronat. Nobility is seldom the conse- 
 
 " Nobility is the wreath with quence of virtue ; virtue, still more 
 
 which Time crowns men. seldom the consequence of nobility. 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 153 
 
 " PRO. 
 
 " Antiquitatcm etiam in mo- 
 numentis mortuig veneramur ; 
 quanto magis in vivis ? 
 
 " We reverence antiquity even in 
 lifeless monuments, how much more 
 in living ones ? 
 
 * « * 
 
 " Nobilitas virtutcm invidise 
 Bubducit, gratiae tradit. 
 
 " Nobility withdraws virtue from 
 envy, and commends it to favour. 
 
 " CONTRA. 
 
 " Nobiles majorum depreca- 
 tione, ad veniam, sjepius utun- 
 tur, quam sufifragatione, ad 
 honores. 
 
 " Persons of high birth oftener 
 resort to their ancestors as a means 
 of escaping punishment than as a 
 recommendation to high posts. 
 
 " Tanta solet esse industria 
 hominum novorum, ut nobiles 
 prae illis tanquam statuae vi- 
 deantur. 
 
 " Such is the activity of upstarts, 
 that men of high birth seem statues 
 in comparison, 
 
 "Nobiles in stadio respectant 
 nimis sffipe; quod mali cursor is 
 est. 
 
 " In runni7ig their race, men of 
 birth look back too often, which is 
 the mark of a bad runner." 
 
 Again, take a portion of the Essay on Ceremonies and Re- 
 spedSy by which he means what, in modern English, we ex- 
 press by " conventional forms of politeness," and " rules of 
 etiquette :" 
 
 " He that is only real bad need have exceeding great parts of 
 virtue ; as the stone had need to be rich that is set -without foil : but 
 if a man mark it well, it is in jjraise and commendation of men, as it 
 is in gettings and gains ; for the proverb is true ' That light gains 
 make heavy purses ;' for light gains come thick, whereas great come 
 but now and then ; so it is true, that small matters win great com- 
 mendation, because they are continually in use and in note : whereas 
 the occasion of any great virtue cometh but on festivals ; therefore it 
 doth much add to a man's reputation, and is (as queen Isabella said) 
 like perpetual letters commendatory, to have good forms. To attain 
 them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them ; for so shall a man ob- 
 serve them in others ; and let him trust himself with the rest ; for if 
 he labour too much to express them, he shall lose their grace ; which 
 h to be natural and unaffected. Some men's behaviour is like a verse, 
 wherein every syllable is measured; how can a man comprehend, 
 great matters that breaketh his mind too much to small observations ? 
 
154 
 
 bacon's ESSAY! 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 Not to use ceremonies at all is to teach others not to use them again ; 
 and so diminish respect to himself ; especially they are not to be 
 omitted to strangers and formal natures : but the dwelling upon them, 
 and exalting them above the moon, is not only tedious, but doth di- 
 minish the faith and credit of him that speaks ; and, certainly, there 
 is a kind of conveying of effectual and imprinting passages amongst 
 comjjliments, which is of singular use, if a man can hit upon it. 
 Amongst a man's peers, a man shall be sure of familiarity ; and there- 
 fore it is good to keep a little state ; amongst a man's inferiors, one 
 shall be sure of reverence ; and .therefore it is good a little to be 
 familiar." 
 
 Compare with this — 
 
 " CEREMONI^, PTJ 
 " PRO. 
 
 " Si et in verbis vulgo pare- 
 mus, quidni in habitu, et gestu ? 
 
 " If ice accommodate ourselves to 
 the vulgar in our speech, why not 
 also in our deportment ? 
 
 " Virtus et prudentia sine 
 punctis, velut peregrinae linguae 
 sunt ; nam vulgo non intelli- 
 guntur. 
 
 " Virtue and wisdom without 
 forms of politeness are strange lan- 
 guages, for they are not ordinarily 
 understood. 
 
 " Puncti translatio sunt virtu- 
 tis in linguam vernaculam. 
 
 "Forms are the translation of vir- 
 tue into the vidgar tongue. 
 
 icti, affectatio. 
 
 "contra. 
 
 " Quid deformius, quam scenam 
 in vitam transferre ? 
 
 " What can be more disgusting 
 than to transfer the stage into com- 
 mon life ? 
 
 " Magis placent cerussatae buc- 
 cse, et calamistrata coma, quam 
 cerussati et calamistrati mores. 
 
 " Rouged cheeks and curled hair 
 are less offensive than rouged and 
 curled manners.'''' 
 
 It is worth observing in reference to this head, that the 
 vernacular tongue," in which the forms of civility are ex- 
 pressed, differs in different times and places. For instance, in 
 Spain it is a common form of civility to ask a man to dinner, 
 and for the other to reply, " Sure you would not think of such 
 a thing." To accept a first or second invitation would be as 
 great a blunder as if, among us, any one who signed himself 
 
LSCT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 155 
 
 "your obedient servant" should be taken literally, and desired to 
 perform some menial office. If a Spanish gentleman really 
 means to ask you to dinner, he repeats the invitation a third 
 time ; and then he is to be understood literally. 
 
 Serious errors may, of course, arise in opposite ■ways, by 
 not understanding aright what is and is not to be taken as a 
 mere complimentary form. 
 
 The Essay on Innovations is one of the most instructive; 
 and his Antitheta on the same subject are particularly happy. 
 
 INNOVATIO. 
 
 "pro. 
 
 " Omnis medicina innovatio. 
 
 " Every medicament is an inno- 
 vation. 
 
 " Qui nova remedia fugit, nova 
 mala operitur. 
 
 "i7e who shuns new remedies 
 must expect new evils. 
 
 " Novator maximus tempus : 
 quidni igitur tempus imitemur ? 
 
 "Time is the great innovator; 
 why then not Imitate Time ? 
 
 " Morosa morum retentio, res 
 turbulenta est, aeque ac novitas. 
 
 " A stubborn adherence to old 
 practices breeds tumults no less than 
 novelty. 
 
 " Cum per se res mutentur in 
 deterius, si consilio in melius non 
 mutentur, quis finis erit mali ? 
 
 " Since things spontaneously 
 change for the worse, if they be 
 not by design changed for the better, 
 evils must accumulate without end. 
 
 "COXTRA. 
 
 " Nullus auctor ])lacet, praeter 
 tempus. 
 
 " One bows willingly to no au- 
 thority but Time. 
 
 " Nulla novitas absque injuria; 
 nam praesentia convellit. 
 
 " Every novelty does soine hurt, 
 for it unsettles what is established. 
 
 "Quae usu obtinuere, si non 
 bona, at saltem apta inter se 
 sunt. 
 
 " Things that are settled by long 
 use, if not absolutely good, at least 
 fit well together. 
 
 " Quis novator tempus imitatur, 
 quod novationes ita insinuat, ut 
 sensus fallant? 
 
 " Shew me the innovator who 
 imitates Time, that slides in changes 
 imperceptibly. 
 
 " Quod prater spem evenit, cui 
 prodest, minus acceptum ; cui 
 obest magis molestum. 
 
 " What happens unexpectedly is, 
 for that reason, less welcome to him 
 whom it profits, and more galling to 
 him whom it /lurfs." 
 
 When Bacon speaks of time as an " innovator," he might 
 have remarked, by the way — what of course he well knew — 
 
156 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [LECT. VI, 
 
 that though this is an allowable and convenient form of ex- 
 pression, it is not literally correct. In the words of the late 
 Bishop Copleston (in the volume of his Remains, which I 
 edited), " one of the commonest errors is to regard time as 
 an agent. But in reality time does nothing, and is nothing. 
 We use it as a compendious expression for all those causes 
 which act slowly and imperceptibly. But, unless some positive 
 cause is in action, no change takes place in the lapse of one 
 thousand years; as, for instance, in a drop of water enclosed 
 in a cavity of silex. The most intelligent writers are not free 
 from this illusion. For instance, Simond, in his Sioitzerland, 
 speaking of a mountain-scene says — ' The quarry from which 
 the materials of the bridge came, is just above your head, and 
 the miners are still at work ; air, water, frost, weight, and 
 time.^ Thus, too, those politicians who object to any positive 
 enactments aflfecting the Constitution, and who talk of the 
 gentle operation of time, and of our Constitution itself being 
 the work of time, forget that it is human agency all along 
 which is the eflQcient cause. Time does nothing." Thus far 
 Bishop Copleston. 
 
 But we are so much influenced by our own use of language, 
 that, though no one can doubt, when the question is put before 
 him, that eflects are produced not hy time, but in time, we are 
 accustomed to represent Time as armed with a scythe, and 
 mowing down all before him. 
 
 There is no more striking instance of the silent and im- 
 perceptible changes brought about by what is called *' time," 
 than that of a language becoming dead. To point out the 
 precise period at which Greek or Latin ceased to be a living 
 language, would be as impossible as to say when a man becomes 
 old. And much confusion of thought, and many important 
 practical results arise from not attending to this. For ex- 
 ample, many persons have never reflected on the circumstance : 
 that one of the earliest translations of the Scriptures into ; 
 a vernacular tongue, was made by the Church of Rome. The : 
 Latin Vulgate was so called from its being in the vulgar, i.e.y 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 157 
 
 the popular language then spoken in Italy and the neigh- 
 bouring countries; and that version was evidently made on 
 purpose that the Scriptures might he intelligibly read by, 
 or read to, the mass of the people. But gradually and imper- 
 ceptibly Latin was superseded by the languages derived from 
 it — Italian, Spanish, and French, while the Scriptures were 
 still left in Latin : and when it was proposed to translate them 
 into modern tongues, this was regarded as a perilous inno- 
 vation, though it is plain that the real innovation was that 
 which had taken place imperceptibly, since the very object 
 proposed by the vulgate version was, that the Scriptures might 
 not be left in an unknown tongue. Yet you will meet with 
 many among the fiercest declaimers against the Church of 
 Rome, who earnestly deprecate any the slightest changes in 
 our authorized version, and cannot endure even the gradual 
 substitution of other words for such as have become quite 
 obsolete, for fear of unsettling men's minds. It never occurs 
 to them that it was this very dread that kept the Scriptures 
 in the Latin tongue, when that gradually became a dead 
 language. 
 
 But, universally, the removal at once of the accumulated 
 effects gradually produced in a very long time, is apt to strike 
 the vulgar as a novelty, when, in truth, it is only a restoration 
 of things to their original state. 
 
 For example, suppose a clock to lose only one minute and a 
 few seconds in the week, and to be left uncorrected for a year ; 
 it will then have lost a whole hour ; and any one who then sets 
 it right, will appear to the ignorant to have suddenly robbed 
 them of that amount of time. 
 
 This case is precisely analogous to that of the change 
 of Style. There was, in what is called the Julian Calendar 
 (that fixed by Julius Ctesar) a minute error, which made 
 every fourth year a trifle too long ; in the course of centuries 
 the error amounted to eleven days, and when, about a century 
 ago, we rectified this (as had been done in Roman Catholic 
 countries a century earlier), this mode of reckoning was called 
 
158 
 
 BACON S ESSAYS. 
 
 [lect. ti. 
 
 the neiu style." The Russians, who still use what is called 
 " the old style," are now not eleven, but twelve days wrong '■> 
 that is, they are one day further from the original position of 
 the days of the month, as fixed in the time of Julius CiBsar: 
 and this they call adhering to the Julian Calendar. 
 
 So, also, to reject the religious practices and doctrines 
 that have crept in by little and little since the days of the 
 apostles, and thus to restore Christianity to what it was under 
 them, appears to the unthinking to be forsaking the old religion 
 and bringing in a new. 
 
 In reference to the present subject, it may be remarked as 
 a curious circumstance, that there are in most languages pro- 
 verbial sayings respecting it, apparently opposed to each other ; 
 as for instance, that men are attached to what they have been 
 used to ; that " use is a second nature ;" that they fondly cling 
 to the institutions and practices they have been accustomed to, 
 and can hardly be prevailed on to change them even for better ; 
 and then, again, on the other side, that men have a natural 
 craving for novelty ; that unvarying sameness is tiresmoe ; 
 that some variety, — some change, even for the worse, is agree- 
 ably refreshing, &c. 
 
 The truth is, that in all the serious and important affairs 
 of life, men are attached to what they have been used to ; in 
 matters of ornament, they covet novelty; in all systems and 
 institutions — in all the ordinary business of life — in all funda- 
 mentals — they cling to what is the established course; in mat- 
 ters of detail — in what lies, as it were, on the surface — they 
 seek variety. Man may, in reference to this point, be compared 
 to a tree whose stem and main branches stand year after year, 
 but whose leaves and flowers are changed every season. 
 
 In most countries people like change in the fashions of 
 their dress and furniture ; in almost all, they like new music, 
 new poems and novels (so called in reference to this taste), 
 pictures, flowers, games, &c., but they are wedded to what is 
 established in laws, institutions, systems, and in all that relates . 
 to the main business of life. Every one knows how slowly and j 
 
bacon's essays. 
 
 159 
 
 ■with what difficulty farmers are prevailed on to adopt any new 
 system of husbandry, even when the faults of an old established 
 usage, and the advantage of a change, can be made evident 
 to the senses. If you ask persons of this class their reason 
 for doing so and so, they will generally give as an answer, 
 which they consider quite a sufficient one, " that is what we 
 ahvays do." 
 
 This distinction is one which it may often be of great im- 
 portance to keep in mind. For instance, the ancient Romans 
 and other Pagans seldom objected to the addition of a new god 
 to their list ; and it is said that some of them actually did pro- 
 pose to enrol Jesus among the number. This was quite con- 
 sonant to the genius of their mythological system. But the 
 overthrow of the whole system itself, and the substitution of 
 a fundamentally different religion, was a thing they at first 
 regarded with alarm and horror ; all their feelings were en- 
 listed against such a radical change. And any one who should 
 imagine that the Gospel could be received with some degree of 
 favour on account of its being new, because, forsooth, men like 
 novelties, and that, therefore, something short of the most 
 overpowering miraculous proofs might have sufficed for its 
 introduction and spread, such a person must have entirely 
 overlooked the distinction between the kinds of things in which 
 men do or do not favor what is new. 
 
 And the like holds good in all departments of life. New 
 medicines, for instance, come into vogue from time to time, 
 with or without good reason ; but a fundamentally new si/stem 
 of medicine, whether right or wrong, is sure to have the 
 strongest prejudices enlisted against it. If when the celebrated 
 Harvey discovered the circulation of the blood, he had, on the 
 ground that people often readily introduced some new medi- 
 cine, calculated on a favorable reception, or even a fair hearing 
 for his doctrine, which went to establish a fundamental revo- 
 lution, he would soon have been undeceived by the vehement 
 and general opposition with which he was encountered. 
 
 And it was the physicians of the highest standing that 
 
160 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 most opposed Harvey. It was the most experienced naviga- 
 tors that opposed Columbus' views. It was those most con- 
 versant with the management of the Post-office, that were 
 the last to approve of the plan of the uniform penny- postage. 
 For, the greater any one's experience and skill in his own 
 department, and the more he is entitled to the deference which 
 is proverbially due to each man in his own province [" peritis 
 credendnm est in arte sua"], the more likely, indeed, he will 
 be to be a good judge of improvements in details, or even 
 to introduce them himself; but the more wwlikely to give a 
 fair hearing to any proposed radical change. An experienced 
 stage-coachman is likely to be a good judge of all that relates 
 to turnpike roads and coach -horses ; but you should not consult 
 him about railroads and steam-carriages. 
 
 True it is that great and sudden and violent changes do 
 take place — that ancient institutions have been recklessly over- 
 thrown — that sanguinary revolutions have taken place in quick 
 succession, and that new schemes, often the most wild and 
 extravagant, both in civil and religious matters, have been 
 again and again introduced. We need not seek far to find 
 countries that have had, within the memory of persons now 
 living, not less than nine or ten perfectly distinct systems 
 of government. But no changes of this kind ever originate 
 in the mere love of change for its own sake. Never do men 
 adopt a new form of government, or a new system of religion, 
 merely from that delight in variety which leads them to seek 
 new amusements, or to alter the fashion of their dress. They 
 seek changes in what relates to serious matters of fundamental 
 importance, only through the pressure of severe suffering, or 
 of some vehement want, or, at least, from the perception of 
 some great evil or deficiency. Widely as the vulgar are often 
 mistaken as to the causes of any distress, or as to the remedies 
 to be sought, the distress itself is real, when they aim at any 
 great revolution. If an infant beats its nurse, although its 
 j acts are as irrational as those of a mad dog, you may be assured 
 that it is really in pain. And when men are sufiering from a 
 
UECT. 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 161 
 
 famine or pestilence, though it is absurd for them to seek to 
 obtain relief by establishing a new kind of senate or parliament, 
 or by setting up a dictator, or by slaughtering all people of 
 property, still the evil itself is real, and is keenly felt ; and it 
 is that, and not a mere love of change, for change-sake, that 
 drives them to take the most irrational steps. And when evils 
 are really occasioned by absurd and oppressive laws and ty- 
 rannical governments, it is right and rational to aim at a 
 change, though the changes which an infuriated populace does 
 bring about will usually be both irrational and wrong — will 
 j overthrow the good along with the evil — and will be pregnant 
 j with worse evils than they seek to remedy. The ancient 
 I despotism of France, detestable as it was, did not cause more 
 j misery in a century than the Reign of Terror did in a year, 
 I And, universally, the longer and the more grievously any people 
 have been oppressed, the more violent and extravagant will be 
 the reaction. And the people will often be in the condition of 
 King Lear, going to and fro between his daughters, and de- 
 prived first of half his attendants^ then of half the remainder, 
 then of all. 
 
 Hence, though it is true that innovations in important 
 matters are never sought through mere love of change for 
 its own sake, but for relief from some evil, the danger is 
 lot the less, of rash and ill-advised innovations ; because evils, 
 greater or less, and more or less of imperfection, always do 
 !xist in all human institutions administered by fallible men. 
 
 And what is more, there is seldom any kind of evil that 
 loes not admit of a complete and elfectual remedy, if we are 
 ;areless about introducing some different, and, perhaps, greater 
 vil in its place. It is seldom very difiicult to dam up a 
 tream that incommodes us ; only we should remember that it 
 rill then force for itself a new channel, or else spread out 
 Qto an unwholesome marsh. The evils of contested elections, 
 he bribery, the intimidation, and the deception which they 
 ften give rise to, are undeniable; and they would be com- 
 letely cured by suppressing the House of Commons altogether, 
 w. E. M 
 
 I 
 
162 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 or making the seats in it hereditary ; but we should not 
 be gainers by the exchange. There are evils belonging speci- 
 fically to a pure monarchy, and to an oligarchy, and to a 
 democracy, and to a mixed government : and a change in the 
 form of government would always remedy one class of evils, and 
 introduce another. And under all governments, civil and ec- 
 clesiastical, there are evils arising from the occasional incapacity 
 or misconduct of those to whom power is entrusted ; evils which 
 might be at once remedied -by introducing the far greater evil 
 of anarchy, and leaving every man to " do as is right in his 
 own eyes." There are inconveniences again from being governed 
 by fixed laws, which must always bear hard on some particular 
 cases ; but we should be no gainers by leaving every judge to 
 act like a Turkish Cadi entirely at his own discretion. And 
 the like holds good in all departments of life. 
 
 Bacon's maxim, therefore, is most wise, to " make a stand 
 upon the ancient way, and look about us to discover what is the 
 hest way;" neither changing at once, anything that is established, 
 merely because of some evils actually existing, without con- 
 sidering whether we can substitute something that is on the 
 whole better ; nor again, steadily rejecting every plan or system 
 that can be proposed, till one can be found that is open to no 
 objections at all. For, nothing framed or devised by the wit 
 of Man ever was, or can be, perfect ; and therefore to condemn 
 and reject everything that is imperfect, and has some evils 
 attending on it, is a folly which may lead equally — and indeed 
 often has led — to each of two opposite absurdities : either an 
 obstinate adherence to what is established, however bad, because 
 nothing absolutely unexceptionable can be substituted ; or again, 
 a perpetual succession of revolutions till we can establish — which 
 is totally impossible — some system completely faultless. 
 
 The obvious dictate of common sense is to compare and 
 weigh together the advantages and disadvantages on both sides, 
 and then decide accordingly. 
 
 It is quite certain that whatever is established and already 
 existing has a presumption on its side ; that is, the burden of proof 
 
LECT. n-l 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 163 
 
 lies on those who propose a change. No one is called on to 
 bring reasons against any alteration, till some reasons have 
 been oflFered for it. But the deference which is thus claimed 
 for old laws and institutions is sometimes extended (through the 
 ambiguity of language — the use of "old" for "ancient") to 
 what are called " the good old times as if the world had 
 formerly been older, instead of younger, than it is now. But 
 it is manifest that the advantage possessed by old men — that of 
 long experience — must belong to the present Age more than to 
 any preceding. 
 
 The two kinds of absurdity which I have just adverted to 
 — a blind impatience for any novelty that seems to promise fair, 
 and an equally blind repugnance to any change, however need- 
 ful — may be compared respectively to the acts of two kinds of 
 irrational animals, a moth, and a horse. The moth rushes into 
 a flame and is burned ; and the horse obstinately stands still in 
 a stable that is on fire, and is burned likewise. One may often 
 meet with persons of opposite dispositions, though equally un- 
 wise, who are accordingly prone respectively to these opposite 
 errors ; the one partaking more of the character of the moth, 
 and the other of the horse. 
 
 I will conclude my remarks on this head by referring to the 
 homely old proverb, a " tile in time saves nine." A house may 
 stand for ages if some very small repairs and alterations are 
 promptly made from time to time as they are needed ; whereas 
 if decay is suffered to go on unheeded, it may become necessary to 
 pull down and rebuild the whole house. The longer any need- 
 ful reform is delayed, the greater and the more diflScult, and the 
 more sudden, and the more dangerous and unsettling, it will be. 
 And then, perhaps, those who had caused this delay by their 
 pertinacious resistance to any change at all, will point to these 
 evils — evils brought on by themselves — in justification of their 
 conduct. If they would have allowed a few broken slates on the 
 roof to be at once replaced by new ones, the timbers would not 
 have rotted, nor the walls, in consequence, leaned, nor would 
 the house have thence needed to be demolished and rebuilt. 
 
 M 8 
 
164 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 To say that no changes shall take place is to talk idly. We 
 might as well pretend to control the motions of the earth. To 
 resolve that none shall take place except what ai-e undesigned 
 and accidental, is to resolve that though a clock may gain or 
 lose indefinitely, at least we will take care that it shall never 
 be regulated. 
 
 Most wise, therefore, is Bacon's admonition, to copy the 
 great innovator time, by vigilantly watching for, and promptly 
 counteracting the first small insidious approaches of decay, and 
 introducing gradually, from time to time, such small improve- 
 ments (individually small, but collectively great) as there may 
 be room for, and which will prevent the necessity of violent and 
 sweeping reformations. 
 
 Few of you, probably, are likely ever to be called on to take 
 part in the reformation of any public institutions. But there is 
 no one of us but what ought to engage in the important work of 
 se^Areformation. And according to the well-known proverb, 
 " If each would sweep before his own door, we should have a 
 clean street," Some may have more, and some less, of dust and 
 other nuisances to sweep away ; some of one kind and some of 
 another. But those who have the least to do, have something 
 to do ; and they should feel it an encouragement to do it, that 
 they can so easily remedy the beginnings of small evils before 
 they have accumulated into a great one. 
 
 Begin reforming, therefore, at once : proceed in reforming, 
 steadily and cautiously ; and go on reforming for ever. 
 
 Far ahead of his Age as Bacon was, it would be too much 
 to expect of any one not gifted with infallibility to have been 
 wholly free from the prejudices prevalent in his time. 
 
 Besides a tendency, apparent in many places, towards an 
 undue depreciation of Aristotle, which was a natural reaction 
 from the excessive, absurd, and almost idolatrous veneration 
 that had long been paid, chiefly to the least valuable of his 
 works. Bacon was also, in a certain degree, infected with the 
 tulgar errors of that Age. 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 165 
 
 For instance, in his Essay on the G-reatness of King- 
 doms, he speaks of aggressive wars with a view to extension of 
 empire, and of seeking plausible pretexts for them, in a style 
 which not even a Russian would venture to use in these days. 
 Bad as men's practice still is, the sentiments they express are 
 happily much more conformable to justice : and as it is the 
 character of right theory to be always somewhat ahead of right 
 practice, we may cherish a hope that the conduct of States is 
 (though as yet very backward) in a way to improve. 
 
 Bacon's view of war as a kind of healthful exercise for a 
 nation, was that of his times, and of times not only long before, 
 but long after his day. I wish we could say that such a view 
 has never been put forth in the present generation. But we may 
 say that the doctrine is one which very few military, and still 
 fewer non-military men would, now, venture to maintain. 
 
 And if the happy time should ever arrive that there should 
 be no more wars of aggression, all wars would cease, since there 
 can be none without an aggressor. If indeed some one, or some 
 two or three States should practically adopt the doctrine of the 
 unlawfulness of self-defence, wars would be likely to increase, 
 since any such State would at once be taken under the protection 
 of some unscrupulous conqueror, like a flock of sheep left to the 
 mercy of a wolf ; he would seize on their country, when he 
 found that he could do so with impunity, and take their children 
 as conscripts, to be trained as his soldiers for fresh conquests. 
 But if some States steadily renounce wars of conquest, while 
 yet prepared to maintain their own independence, their example 
 may be followed by others ; and when such a system shall have 
 become universal, the question about the lawfulness of self- 
 defence will have become a purely speculative one ; since there 
 will no longer be any aggression to repel. 
 
 Again, in the Essay on Seditions and Tumults, he falls 
 j into the error which always prevails in the earlier stages of 
 civilization, and which accordingly was more prevalent in his 
 ! Age than in ours — that of over-governing. 
 
1(36 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 It may be reckoned a kind of puerility: for you will 
 generally find young persons prone to it, and also those legis- 
 lators who lived in the younger, i.e., the earlier ages of the 
 world. They naturally wish to enforce by law everything that 
 they consider to be good, and forcibly to prevent men from doing 
 anything that is unadvisable. And the amount of mischief is 
 incalculable that has been caused by this meddlesome kind of 
 legislation. For not only have such legislators been, as often, 
 as not, mistaken, as to what really is beneficial or hurtful, but 
 also when they have been right in their judgment on that point, 
 they have often done more harm than good by attempting to 
 enforce by law what had better he left to each man's own 
 discretion. 
 
 As an example of the first kind of error, may be taken the 
 many efforts made by the legislators of various countries to re- 
 strict foreign commerce, on the supposition that it would be 
 advantageous to supply all our wants ourselves, and that we 
 must be losers by purchasing anything from abroad. If a 
 weaver were to spend half his time in attempting to make shoes 
 and furniture for himself, or a shoemaker to neglect his trade 
 while endeavouring to raise corn for his own consumption, they 
 would be guilty of no greater folly than has often been, and in 
 many instances still is, forced on many nations by their govern- 
 ments ; which have endeavoured to withdraw from agriculture to 
 manufactures a people possessing abundance of fertile land, or 
 who have forced them to the home cultivation of such articles as 
 their soil and climate are not suited to, and thus compelled them 
 to supply themselves with an inferior commodity at a greater cost. 
 
 On the other hand, there is no doubt that early hours are 
 healthful, and that men ought not to squander their money on 
 luxurious feasts and costly dress, unsuited to their means ; but 
 when governments thereupon undertook to prescribe the hours 
 at which men should go to rest, requiring them to put out their 
 lights at the sound of the curfew-bell, and enacted sumptuary 
 laws as to the garments they were to wear, and the dishes of 
 meat they were to have at their tables, this meddling kind of 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 167 
 
 legislation was always found excessively galling, and moreover 
 entirely ineffectual ; since men's dislike to such laws always pro- 
 duced contrivances for evading the spirit of them. 
 
 Bacon, however, was far from always seeing his way rightly 
 in these questions; which is certainly not to be wondered at, 
 cwisidering that we who live three centuries later have only just 
 emerged from thick darkness into twilight, and are far from 
 having yet completely thrown oflF those erroneous notions of our 
 forefathers. 
 
 Bacon in that Essay I have just alluded to, advocates sump- 
 tuary laws, — the regulating of prices by law (which, by the way, 
 still existed in the memory of most of us, with respect to bread) 
 — legislation against engrossing of commodities (an error which 
 has only very lately been exploded), and prohibiting the laying 
 down of land in pasture — with other such puerilities as are to 
 be found in the earlier laws of most nations. 
 
 In his Essay on Usury he does not go the whole length 
 of the prejudices existing in his time, though he partakes of 
 them in a gi-eat degree. In his day, and long before, there were 
 many who held it absolutely sinful to receive any interest for 
 money, on the ground of the prohibition of it to the Israelites in 
 their dealings with each other; though the Mosaic law itself 
 proves the contrary, since it allows lending at interest to a 
 stranger; and certainly the Israelites were not permitted to 
 oppress and defraud strangers. 
 
 Bacon, however, is for tolerating usury, on the ground that 
 men are so hard-hearted, that they will not lend without in- 
 terest. It never occurred to him, seemingly, that no one is 
 called hard-hearted for not letting his land or his house rent free, 
 or for requiring to be paid for the use of his horse, or his ship, 
 or any other kind of property. It may seem strange that Bacon 
 should not have perceived — but it is far more strange that legis- 
 lators in the nineteenth century should not have perceived — that 
 there is no essential difference between the use of any other kind 
 of property, and money, which represents, and is equivalent to, 
 any and all kinds. 
 
168 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 Llect. VI. 
 
 One man, for example, invests his money in building a ship, 
 or manufactory, and engages in commerce or in manufactures 
 himself ; a second builds the ship or the mill, and lets it to a 
 merchant or a manufacturer who understands that kind of busi- 
 ness better than he does ; and a third lends the money to a 
 merchant or a manufacturer to build for himself in the way that 
 will best suit his purpose. It is plain there can be no difference, 
 morally, between those three ways of investing capital. 
 
 No doubt advantage is often taken of a man's extreme 
 necessity, to demand high interest, and exact payment with 
 rigour. But it is equally true that advantage is taken in some 
 crowded town of a man's extreme need of a night's lodging. 
 And the interposition of the law in dealings between man and 
 man, except for the prevention of fraud, generally increases the 
 evil it seeks to remedy. A prohibition of interest, or — which 
 is only a minor degree of the same error — a prohibition of any 
 beyond a certain fixed rate of interest — has an efiect similar to 
 that of a like interference between the buyers and sellers of any 
 other commodity. If, for example, in a time of scarcity it were 
 enacted, on the ground that cheap food is desirable, that bread and 
 meat should not be sold beyond such and such a price, the result 
 would be that every one would be driven — unless he would sub- 
 mit to be starved — to evade the law ; and he would have to pay 
 for his food more than he otherwise would, to cover (1) the cost 
 of the contrivances for the evasion of the law, and (2) a com- 
 pensation to the seller for the risk, and also for the discredit, of 
 that evasion. Even so, a man who could have borrowed money 
 (which he needs, to extricate him from some difficulty) at ten 
 per cent., if all dealings were left free, has to pay for it, virtually 
 fifteen or twenty per cent, through some circuitous process. • 
 
 But of all unwise interferences of governments, by far the 
 most noxious, and also the most plausible, and the hardest to be 
 got rid of, is religious intolerance. And this Bacon discount- 
 enances in his Essay on Religious Unity, protesting against 
 the " forcing of men's consciences." I am not quite sure, how- 
 ever, whether he fully embraced the principle that all secular 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 169 
 
 coercion, small or great, in what regards religious faith, is con- 
 trary to the spirit of Christianity ; and that a man's religion, 
 as long as he conducts himself as a peaceable and good citizen, 
 does not fall ivithin the province of the civil Magistrate. Bacon 
 speaks with just horror of " sanguinary persecutions." Now 
 any laws that can properly be called " sanguinary " — any undue 
 severity — should be deprecated in all matters whatever ; as if, 
 for example, the penalty of death should be denounced for steal- 
 ing a pin. But if religious truth does properly fall within the 
 province of the civil magistrate — if it be the office of govern- 
 ment to provide for the good of the subjects, universally, in- 
 cluding that of their souls, the rulers can have no more right 
 to tolerate heresy, than theft or murder. They may plead that 
 the propagation of false doctrine, — that is, what is contrary to 
 what they hold to be true, — is the worst kind of robbery, and 
 is a murder of the soul. On that supposition, therefore, the 
 degree of severity of the penalty denounced against religious 
 offences, whether it shall be death, or exile, or fine, or imprison- 
 ment, or any other, becomes a mere political question, just as in 
 the case of the penalties for other crimes. 
 
 But if, on the contrary, we are to understand and comply 
 ■with, in the simple and obvious sense, our Lord's injunction to 
 " render to CjBsar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the 
 things that are God's;" and his declaration that his "kingdom is 
 not of this world ;'' and if we are to believe his apostles sincere 
 in renouncing, on behalf of themselves and their followers, all 
 design of propagating their faith by secular force, or of monopo- 
 lizing for Christians as such, or for any particular denomination 
 of Christians, secular power and political rights, then, all penal- 
 ties and privations, great or small, inflicted on purely religious 
 grounds, must be equally of the character of persecution (though 
 all are not equally severe persecution), and all alike unchristian. 
 Persecution, in short, is not wrong because it is cruel ; but it is 
 cruel because it is wrong. 
 
 In the Essay on Plantations [colonies] Bacon remarks 
 most justly that " it is a shameful and unblessed thing to 
 
170 
 
 BACON S ESSAYS. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 take the scum of people, and wicked condemned men to be 
 the people with whom you plant;" and he adds that "it 
 spoileth the plantation," Yet two and a-half centuries after 
 his time, the English government, in opposition to the re- 
 monstrances of the enlightened and most emphatically ex- 
 perienced philanthropist, Howard, established its penal colonies 
 in Australia, and thus, in the language of Shakspeare, " began 
 an impudent nation." 
 
 It is now above a quarter of a century since I began point- 
 ing out to the public the manifold mischiefs of such a system; 
 and with Bacon and Howard on my side, I persevered in 
 braving all the obloquy and ridicule that were heaped on me. 
 But successive ministries, of the most opposite political parties, 
 agreed in supporting what the most eminent Political econo- 
 mist of the present day had described as " a system begun in 
 defiance of all reason, and persevered in in defiance of all 
 experience." 
 
 Again, in the Essay on Praise, he says — 
 
 " Praise is the reflection of virtue, but it is as the glass, or body, 
 which giveth the reflection; if it be from the common people, it is 
 commonly false and naught, and ratlier followeth vain persons than 
 virtuous : for the common people understand not many excellent 
 virtues : the lowest virtues draw praise from them, the middle virtues 
 work in them astonishment or admu'ation; but of the highest virtues 
 they have no sense or perceiving at all ; but shows and ' species vir- 
 tutibus similes' serve best with them. Certainly, fame is like a river, 
 that beareth up things light and swollen, and drowns things weighty 
 and solid : but if persons of quality and judgment concur, then it is (as 
 the scripture saith) ' Nomen bonum instar unguenti fragrantis ;' it 
 iilleth all round about, and will not easily away; for the odours of 
 ointments are more durable tLan those of flowers." 
 
 " LAUS, EXISTIMATIO. 
 " PRO. " CONTRA. 
 
 " Virtutis radii reflexi laudes. " Fama deterior judex, quam 
 
 " Praises are the reflected rays of nuncia. 
 
 virtue. " Common fame is a had mes- 
 
 " Laus honor is est, ad quern senger, hut a worse judge. 
 liberis suffragiis pervenitur. 
 
LECT. Xl."] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 171 
 
 " PRO. 
 
 " Praise is that kind of honor 
 u-hich is conferred hy free votes. 
 
 "Honores diverse a diversis 
 politiis conferuntur ; sed laudes 
 ubique suut libertatis. 
 
 " Honors are conferred differently 
 indifferent governments ; but praises, 
 everywhere by popular suffrage. 
 * * * 
 
 " Ne mireris, si valgus verius 
 loquatur, quam honoratiores ; 
 quia etiam tutius loquitur. 
 
 " It is no wonder that the vulgar 
 sometimes speak viore truly than 
 those of high place, because they 
 speak more safely. 
 
 " CONTRA. 
 
 " Fama veluti fluvius, levia at- 
 tollit, solida mergit. 
 
 Fame, like a river, bears vp 
 what IK light, and sinks what is solid. 
 
 " Infimarum virtutum apud 
 vulgus laus est, mediarum ad- 
 niiratio, supremarum sensus nul- 
 lus. 
 
 " The lou-est of the virtues the 
 vulgar praise ; the middle ones they 
 admire ; of the highest they have no 
 perception.^'' 
 
 What a pregnant remark is this last ! By the lowest of the 
 virtues he means probably such as hospitality, liberality, gra- 
 titude, good-humoured courtesy, and the like; and these he 
 says the common run of mankind are accustomed to praise. 
 Those which they admire, such as daring courage, and firm 
 fidelity to friends, or to the cause or party one has espoused, 
 are what he ranks in the next highest place. But the most 
 elevated virtues of all, such as disinterested and devoted public 
 spirit, thorough-going even-handed justice, and disregard of 
 unpopularity when duty requires, of these he says the vulgar 
 have usually no notion. And he might have gone further; 
 for it often happens that a large portion of mankind not only 
 do not praise or admire the highest qualities, but even censure 
 and despise them. Cases may occur in which, though you may 
 obtain the high approbation of a very few persons of the most 
 refined and exalted moral sentiments, you must be prepared to 
 find the majority (even of such as are not altogether bad men) 
 condemning you as unnatural, unkind, faithless, and not to be 
 depended on ; or deriding you as eccentric, crotchety, fanciful, 
 or absurdly scrupulous. 
 
 And this is the more likely to occur, because there are 
 many cases in which the same conduct may result either from 
 
172 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [LECT. VI. 
 
 the very highest motive, or from a base one ; and then, those of 
 the noblest character, and who are also cautious and intelligent, 
 will judge from your general conduct and character which mo- 
 tive to assign ; while those who are themselves strangers to 
 the highest principle, will at once attribute your acts to the 
 basest. For example, if you shrink from some daring or 
 troublesome undertaking which is also unjustifiable, this may 
 be either from cowardice or indolence, or from scrupulous 
 integrity: and the worse motive will be at once assigned by 
 those who have no notion of the better. If you are tolerant in 
 religion, this mmj be either from utter carelessness, like Gallio's, 
 or from a perception of the true character of the Gospel : and 
 those who want this latter, will be sure to attribute to you at 
 once the other. If you decline supporting a countryman against 
 foreigners when they have right on their side, or a friend 
 against a stranger, this may be either from indiiFerence to your 
 country, or your friend, or from a strong love of justice ; and 
 those who have but dim views of justice will at once set you 
 down as unpatriotic or unfriendly. And so in many other 
 cases. 
 
 If, accordingly, you refuse to defend, or to deny, or to 
 palliate the faults of those engaged in a good cause, and if 
 you are ready to bear testimony to whatever there may be 
 that is right on the opposite side, you will be regarded by 
 many as treacherous, or lukewarm, or inconsistent. 
 
 If you advocate toleration for an erroneous faith, and pro- 
 test against forcing or entrapping, or bribing any persons into 
 the profession of a true one, many will consider you as yourself 
 either tainted with error, or indifferent about religious truth. 
 If, again, you consider a seat in Parliament, or any other place 
 you may occupy, or the power of appointing another to such a 
 place, as a sacred trust for the public service, and, therefore, 
 requiring sometimes the sacrifice of private friendship, — if you 
 do justice to an opponent against a friend, or to a worse man 
 (when he happens to have right on his side) against a better 
 — if you refuse to support your friends, or those you have been 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 173 
 
 accustomed to act with, or those to whom you have a per- 
 sonal obligation, when they are about doing something that is 
 wrong, — if you decline making application in behalf of a 
 friend to those who would expect you to place your votes 
 and interest at their disposal, whether your own judgment 
 approved of their measures or not, — in these and other such 
 cases, you will be perhaps more blamed or despised by the 
 generality than commended or admired. For, party- men will 
 usually pardon a zealous advocate of their party for many great 
 faults, more readily than they will pardon the virtue of standing 
 quite aloof from party, and doing strict justice to all. It will 
 often happen, therefore, that when a man of very gi'eat real ex- 
 cellence does acquu-e great and general esteem, four-fifths of 
 this will have been bestowed on the minor virtues of his cha- 
 racter; and four-fifths of his admirers wUl have either quite 
 overlooked the most truly admirable of his qualities, or else 
 regarded them as pardonable weaknesses. 
 
 You should guard, then, against the opposite dangers of 
 either lowering your own moral standard to the level of some of 
 your neighbours, or judging too hardly of them. Your general 
 practical rule should be, to expect more of yourself than of others. 
 Not that you should ever call wrong conduct right ; but you 
 should consider that that which would be a very great fault in 
 you, may be much less inexcusable in some others who have not had 
 equal advantages. You should be ready to make allowances for 
 want of clearness of understanding, or for defective education, or 
 for a want of the highest and best examples. Those may be really 
 trying to do their duty according to the best lights they have, 
 whose moral views are, on some points, as yet but dim and im- 
 perfect, and whose conduct, on the whole, falls far short of what 
 may fairly be expected — and ^viU be expected — of one whose 
 moral judgment is more enlightened, and his standard of duty 
 more elevated. 
 
 In the Essay on Custom and Education, Bacon makes a 
 remark, which like very many others, he has elsewhere con- 
 
174 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. VI. 
 
 densed in Latin into a very brief and pithy Apophthegm : 
 Cogitamus secundum Naturam ; loquimur secundum prse- 
 cepta ; sed agimus secundum consuetudinem." " We think ac- 
 cording to our nature ; we speah as we have been instructed ; but 
 we act as we have been accustomed ;" or, as he has a little more 
 expanded it in the Essay, " Men's thoughts are much according 
 to their inclination [original disposition] ; their discourse and 
 speeches, according to their learning and infused opinions ; but 
 their deeds are after as they have been accustomed." 
 
 Of course. Bacon did not mean his words to be taken literally 
 in their utmost extent, and without any exception or modifica- 
 tion ; as if natural disposition, and instruction, had nothing to 
 do with conduct. And, of course, he could not mean anything 
 so self-contradictory as to say that all action is the result of 
 custom : for, it is plain that, in the first instance, it must be ly 
 actions that a custom is formed. 
 
 But he uses a strong expression, in order to impress it on 
 our mind that, for practice, custom is the most essential thing, 
 and that it will often overbear both the original disposition, and 
 the precepts which have been learnt : that whatever a man may 
 inwardly think, and (with perfect sincerity) say, you cannot 
 fully depend on his conduct till you know how he has been accus- 
 tomed to act. For, continued action is like a continued stream of 
 water, which wears for itself a channel that it will not easily be 
 turned from. The bed which the current had gradually scooped 
 at first, afterwards confines it. 
 
 Bacon is far from meaning, I conceive, when he says that 
 " men speak as they have learned " — to limit himself to the case 
 of insincere professions ; but to point out how much easier it is 
 to learn to repeat a lesson correctly, than to bring it into prac- 
 tice, when custom is opposed to it. 
 
 This is the doctrine of one whom Bacon did not certainly 
 regard with any undue veneration — Aristotle, who in his 
 Ethics, dwells earnestly on the importance of being early 
 accustomed to right practice, with a view to the formation of 
 virtuous habits. And he derives the word "Ethics," from a 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 175 
 
 Greek word signifying custom ; even as the word " Morality " 
 is derived from the corresponding Latin word " Mos." 
 
 The power of custom in often, as Bacon remarks, prevailing, 
 when you come to action, over the inward sentiments, and the 
 sincere professions of opinion, is remarkably exemplified in the 
 case of soldiers, who have long been habituated to obey, as if by 
 a mechanical impulse, the word of command. 
 
 It happened, in the case of a contemplated insurrection in a 
 certain part of the British Empire, that the plotters of it sought 
 to tamper with the soldiers who were likely to be called out 
 against them ; and, for this purpose, frequented the public- 
 houses to which the soldiers resorted, and drew them into con- 
 versation. Reports of these attempts reached the officers ; who, 
 however, found that so little impression was made that they did 
 not think it needful to take any notice of them. On one occa- 
 sion it appeared that a serjeant of a Scotch regiment was so far 
 talked over as to feel and express great sympathy with the agi- 
 tators, on account of their alleged grievances, as laid before him 
 by the seducer. " Weel, now, I did na ken that ; indeed that 
 seems unco hard ; I can na wonder that ye should complain o' 
 that," &c., &c. 
 
 The other, seeking to follow up his blow, then said — " I 
 suppose now such honest fellows as you, if you were to be called 
 out against us, when we were driven to rise in a good cause, 
 would never have the heart to fire on poor fellows who were only 
 seeking liberty and justice." The serjeant replied (just as he 
 •was reaching down his cap and belt, to i-eturn to barracks), " Vd 
 just na advise ye to try ! " 
 
 He felt conscious — misled as he had been respecting the 
 justice of the cause, — that, whatever might be his private 
 opinions and inward feelings, if the word of command were 
 given to " make ready, present, fire," he should instinctively 
 obey it. 
 
 And this is very much the case with any one who has been 
 long drilled in the ranks of a party. Whatever may be his 
 natural disposition — whatever may be the judgment his un- 
 
176 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [LECT. VI. 
 
 biassed understanding dictates on any point — whatever he may 
 inwardly feel, and may (with perfect sincerity) have said, when 
 you come to action, it is likely that the habit of going along with 
 his party will prevail. And the more general and indefinite the 
 purpose for which the party, or society (or by whatever name it 
 may be called) is framed, and the less distinctly specified are its 
 objects, the more will its members be, usually, under the control 
 and direction of its leaders. 
 
 I was once conversing with an intelligent and liberal-mmded 
 man, who was expressing his strong disapprobation of some late 
 decisions and proceedings of the leading persons of the Society 
 he belonged to, and assuring me that the greater part of the 
 subordinates regarded them as wrong and unjustifiable. " But," 
 said I, " they will nevertheless, I suppose, comphj, and act as 
 they are required? " " Oh yes, they must do that ! " 
 
 Of course, there are many various degrees of partizanship, as 
 there are also dificrent degrees of custom in all other things : 
 and it is not meant that all who are in any degree connected 
 with any party must be equally devoted adherents of it. But I 
 am speaking of the tendency of party-spirit, and describing a 
 party-man so far forth as he is such. And persons of much ex- 
 perience in human afifairs lay it down accordingly as a maxim, 
 that you should be very cautious how you fully trust a party- 
 man, however sound his own judgment, and however pure the 
 principles on which he acts, when left to himself. A sensible 
 and upright man, who keeps himself quite unconnected with 
 party, may be calculated on as likely to act on the views which 
 you have found him to take on each point. In some things, per- 
 haps, you find him to difier from you ; in others to agree ; but 
 when you have learnt what his sentiments are, you know in each 
 case what to expect. But it is not so with one who is connected 
 with, and consequently controlled by, a party. In proportion as 
 he is so, he is not fully his own master ; and in some instances 
 you will probably find him take you quite by surprise, by as- 
 senting to some course quite at variance with the sentiments 
 which you have heard him express — probably with perfect sin- 
 
LECT. VI.] 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 177 
 
 cerity — as his own. When it comes to action, a formed habit 
 of following the party will be likely to prevail over everything. 
 At least, " Vdjust na advise ye to try!'''' 
 
 I wish 1 could feel justified in concluding without saying 
 anything of Bacon's own character ; — without holding him up 
 as himself a lamentable example of practice at variance with 
 good sentiments, and sound judgment, and right precepts. 
 He thought well, and he spoke well ; but he had accustomed 
 himself to act very far from well. And justice requires 
 that he should be held up as a warning beacon to teach all 
 men an important lesson ; to afford them a sad proof that no 
 intellectual power, — no extent of learning, — not even the most 
 pure and exalted moral sentiments confined to theory, will sup- 
 ply the want of a diligent and watchful conformity in practice 
 to christian principle. All the attempts that have been made to 
 vindicate or palliate Bacon's moral conduct, tend only to lower, 
 and to lower very much, the standard of virtue. He appears 
 but too plainly to have been worldly, ambitious, covetous, base, 
 selfish, and unscrupulous. And it is remarkable that the Mam- 
 mon which he served proved but a faithless master in the end. 
 He reached the highest pinnacle, indeed, to which his ambition 
 had aimed; but he died impoverished, degraded, despised, and 
 broken-hearted. His example, therefore, is far from being at 
 all seductive. 
 
 But let no one, thereupon, undervalue or neglect the lessons 
 of wisdom which his wi-itings may supply, and which we may, 
 through divine grace, turn to better account than he did him- 
 self. It would be absurd to infer, that because Bacon was a 
 great philosopher, and far from a good man, therefore you will 
 be the better man for keeping clear of his philosophy. His in- 
 tellectual superiority was no more the cause of his moral 
 failures, than Solomon's wisdom was of his. You may be as 
 faulty a character as either of them was, without possessing a 
 particle of their wisdom, and without seeking to gain instruction 
 from it. The intellectual light which they enjoyed did not, in- 
 W. E. N 
 
178 
 
 bacon's essays. 
 
 [lect. yi. 
 
 deed, keep them in the right path ; but you will not be the 
 more likely to walk in it, if you quench any light that is af- 
 forded you. 
 
 The Canaanites of old, you should remember, dwelt in " a 
 good land, flowing with milk and honey," though they wor- 
 shipped not the true God, but served abominable demons, with 
 sacrifices of the produce of their soil, and even with the blood of 
 their children. But the Israelites were invited to go in, and 
 take possession of " well-stored houses that they builded not, 
 and wells which they digged not ; " and they " took the labours 
 of the people in possession ;" only, they were warned to beware 
 lest, in their prosperity and wealth, they should " forget the 
 Lord their God," and to ofier to Him the first-fruits of their 
 land. 
 
 Neglect not, then, any of the advantages of intellectual cul- 
 tivation which God's providence has placed within your reach ; 
 nor " think scorn of that pleasant land ;" and prefer wandering 
 by choice in the barren wilderness of ignorance ; but let the 
 intellect which God has endowed you with be cultivated as a 
 servant to Him, and then it will be, not a master, but a useful 
 servant, to you. 
 
LECTURE VII. 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 If any educated and intelligent person were asked what is 
 the most extraordinary nation that exists, or ever did exist, on 
 earth, he could hardly fail to answer that it is the People 
 commonly called Jews. Whether he were a Christian, or of 
 any other religious persuasion, or of none at all, he could not 
 but know that some most wonderful events have taken place in 
 that nation, and that they are now, and long have been, in an 
 extraordinary situation, quite different from that of any other 
 people. Moreover, the oldest book, by far, that exists, relates 
 in a very great degree to that people. And even if any one 
 should refuse to give any credit to the narratives in that book, 
 he must still admit that something not less wonderful than what 
 is there recorded must have befallen them. Should he give a 
 loose to his imagination, and frame conjectures as to what 
 might have occurred, according to his notions of the probable, 
 
 I he would be unable to devise any history that should not abound 
 
 I in wonders. 
 
 And again, the history of this People is, in a most impor- 
 tant point, closely connected with our own, and with that of the 
 whole civilized world. A believer and an unbeliever, in the 
 
 I Gospel, cannot but agree in admitting that the christian reli- 
 gion does exist, and that it is with Jews that it originated. If 
 any one, not ignorant of history, were asked who was the most 
 
 i remarkable person that ever existed, and who produced the most 
 important, and wonderful, and lasting changes in the world, he 
 could hardly fail — even though he were an Atheist — to answer, 
 that Jesus of Nazareth was that person. Rightly or wrongly, 
 
180 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. vn. 
 
 a Jew did change the religion of all the most enlightened 
 portion of mankind. 
 
 I have spoken of the People " commonly called " Jews, 
 because, perhaps, in strictness, they ought rather to be desig- 
 nated as Israelites. For though it is probable that the 
 majority of them are actually of the Tribe of Judah, there is, 
 undoubtedly, a very large admixture of the other tribes. Be- 
 sides the small Tribe of Benjamin, in whose territory Jerusalem 
 stands, and which was always incorporated in the kingdom of 
 Judah, there is also the whole, or nearly the whole, of the 
 Tribe of Levi, who were connected with the service of the 
 Temple at Jerusalem, and who, on being deprived by Jeroboam, 
 King of Israel, of all their peculiar privileges, would naturally 
 settle in the territory of the kingdom of Judah, 
 
 And over and above all these, we read in the Book of Chroni- 
 cles, of great numbers from Ephraim, and the other tribes, 
 who joined the kingdom of Judah at sundry times. Jeroboam 
 having set up, and his successors continued, the idolatrous 
 worship of the goLlen calves, all his subjects who adhered to 
 the regular worship at Jerusalem, were thus led to enrol them- 
 selves as subjects of the kings of Judah. Hence, we find 
 mention in Luke's Gospel, of the Prophetess Anna, of the Tribe 
 of Assar. And great multitudes, no doubt, of those called 
 Jews, both at that time and now, were wholly or partly de- 
 scended from other tribes. 
 
 But Judah being the principal tribe, and the kingdom 
 receiving its name from that, it thus happened, very naturally, 
 that the designation of Jews came to be extended to all its 
 subjects. 
 
 I do not, of course, propose to give any thing like a full 
 account of this remarkable People ; nor shall I treat of several 
 doubtful points relative to them, which have often been dis- 
 cussed ; having no design at present to enter on controversies. 
 And I shall pass by also several curious speculations which do 
 not practically concern ourselves. But there are several points 
 
LECT. VII.] 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 181 
 
 that are folly established, and generally known— though some- 
 times not sufficiently attended to — which do concern ?(s, and 
 which therefore it may be both interesting and profitable to 
 bring before the mind, and dwell upon attentively. 
 
 In particular, there are many prophecies relating to the 
 Jewish People, which are of unquestioned antiquity, and some 
 of which appear to be receiving their fulfilment before our eyes 
 in the present day. 
 
 Among others, there are some very remarkable ones in the 
 book of the Prophet Ezekiel, particularly one in the 20th chap. 
 V. 32 — 34. Obscure as some portions of this Prophet's writings 
 confessedly are, the passage to which I am now calling your at- 
 tention is perfectly clear. "That which cometh into your mind 
 shall not be at all, that ye say we will be as the Heathen — as 
 the families of the countries, to serve wood and stone. As I 
 live, saith the Lord God, surely with a mighty hand, and with a 
 stretched-out arm, and with fury poured out, will I rule over 
 you: and I will bring you out from the people, and will 
 gather you out of the countries wherein ye are scattered, with a 
 mighty hand and a stretched-out arm, and with fury poured out." 
 
 This very remarkable passage (much more remarkable 
 than ordinary readers are aware) occurs in a book which 
 the Jews of the present day, as well as ourselves, acknow- 
 ledge to have been written by the Prophet Ezekiel, at a time 
 when his countrymen were greatly disposed to fall into the 
 idolatry of the nations around them, and for which, as well as 
 other sins, he repeatedly denounces the divine judgments against 
 them. This particular sin of idolatry had apparently reached 
 its height at the same time when Ezekiel wrote ; and accordingly, 
 there is, perhaps, no one of the prophets who has so many and 
 so earnest censures and threats against it. And our Scriptures 
 give us very full accounts of the execution of the thi'eats of 
 Moses and the prophets, — the judgments which fell (m the rebel- 
 lious nation ; great part of which they had been actually under- 
 going at the time Ezekiel wrote. They predict the miseries the 
 Jews underwent from the invasion of enemies, the destruction of 
 
182 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. vu. 
 
 their city and temple by the Chaldeans, and the long captivity 
 of the nation. But the most remarkable circumstance is, that 
 this Prophet does not foretell (as one might have expected) 
 either that the nation should be entirely cut off, or that those of 
 them -who remained should be mixed and altogether blended with 
 the heathen, and lose all distinction as God's peculiar People, so 
 as to be no more a separate nation ; but, on the contrary, that they 
 should still continue a distinct People, notwithstanding their own 
 endeavours (at the time when he (Ezekiel) wrote) to mix with 
 the Gentiles, and shake off all marks of separation ; that they 
 should still, in spite of themselves, be singled out as God's pe- 
 culiar People, though no longer his peculiarly favoured people ; 
 that He would still be in an especial manner their King, visiting 
 them with peculiar and heavy judgments, and distinguishing 
 them by these, as much as they had formerly been distinguished 
 by extraordinary blessings, from all other nations. " That which 
 cometh into your mind shall not be at all, that ye say we will 
 be as the Heathen, as the families of the countries," &c. &c. 
 
 The Jews in Ezekiel's time seem to have despised and ab- 
 horred their privilege of being the Lord Jehovah's peculiar people, 
 and to have wished to conform in all things to the practices of 
 the nations around them. [You should observe Heathens, G-en- 
 tiles, and Nations, are words originally all of the same meaning.] 
 The Jews then, I say, were desirous of being like the rest of the 
 world, serving idols of wood and stone, and casting off all those 
 distinctions which had kept them till then a separate nation; 
 sometimes dreaded, sometimes despised, and always disliked, by 
 their idolatrous neighbours. But the Prophet declares that this 
 design of theirs shall not take effect ; that Jehovah their King 
 will neither suffer them to follow their inclination, nor utterly 
 destroy them ; but will keep them his peculiar people whether 
 they will or not ; and as He formerly distinguished them by 
 blessings, so now He will govern them with severity ; — as He 
 wrought great deliverances for them, and brought them out of 
 Egypt with a mighty hand .... so now with a mighty hand, 
 and with fury poured out. He would rule over them. 
 
LECI. vn.] 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 183 
 
 And to this day the unbelieving Jews are a separate people. 
 They themselves, I suppose, interpret the prophecy of Ezekiel 
 of the deliverance from the Babylonish captivity, and their re- 
 turn from that to their own land. But it must relate to some- 
 thing more than that ; for, their restoration to their own land 
 was an act of kindness and favour; whereas the Prophet plainly 
 points at their being separated from other nations by a govern- 
 ment of severity and chastisement : " with a mighty hand and 
 stretched-out arm, and with fury poured out will I rule over 
 you." But whether or not we understand the prophecy to have 
 related in part to the return from the Babylonish captivity, it 
 plainly foretells that the Jews never shall at any time be blended 
 and wholly lost as a nation among idolatrous people ; a thing 
 which to all human conjecture must have appeared extremely 
 probable at the time when Ezekiel wrote. 
 
 It is important to keep in mind that in order to establish the 
 claim of an alleged prophecy to a superhuman origin, four points 
 are requisite : — 
 
 1st. The prediction must clearly correspond with the event. 
 
 2nd. It must be clearly shown to have been delivered he- 
 fore the event. 
 
 3rd. It must not be •within the reach of any human sagacity 
 (such, as for instance, the prediction of an eclipse by astro- 
 nomers). 
 
 4th, and lastly, it must be a prediction which could not it- 
 self cause its own fulfilment. 
 
 If, for instance, there were a prediction afloat, that such- 
 and-such a person should appear at a certain time and place, 
 and should say and do so-and-so, it might be in his own power 
 to fulfil that prediction; and it might be for his advantage 
 to do so. 
 
 In all these points the prediction now before us will be found 
 to establish its truly prophetical character. 
 
 Nothing, as I have just said, could be, humanly speaking, 
 more probable, at the time when Ezekiel wrote, than the com- 
 plete blending of the Jews with idolatrous nations. Ezekiel 
 
184 
 
 THE JEWS, 
 
 [lect. %Tr. 
 
 however, prophesied that this never should take place: and it 
 never has, to this day. After their return from the Babylonish 
 captivity, they appear to have fallen no more into the idolatry 
 which they had before been so much addicted to; and though 
 guilty of many enormous sins, always maintained with the most 
 scrupulous reverence the letter of the Law of Moses ; as they 
 endeavour to do to this time. And yet the fury poured out on 
 them as a nation is very observable. While the Temple of 
 Solomon stood, they profaned even that holy place itself with 
 Idolatry; ever since its destruction they have abstained from 
 Idolatry; for above 1800 years they have had no Temple — no 
 city — no country; they cannot oifer the sacrifices which the 
 Law of Moses directs, because it is forbidden them to do so ex- 
 cept at the Temple at Jerusalem — the place last chosen by the 
 Lord to " set his Name there." — [Deut. xii. 13.] 
 
 Yet still they observe the Mosaic Law, as far as they are 
 able, with the most scrupulous exactness. In all that long 
 period, since the destruction of their city by the Romans, they 
 have not only enjoyed no extraordinary providence in their 
 favour as a nation, but have been insulted and persecuted in 
 various parts of the world, driven from place to place as home- 
 less wanderers ; and remarkable as they were of old for their 
 warlike spirit, not only when the Lord of Hosts gave them vic- 
 tory in the battle, but in their obstinate, though fruitless, 
 resistance to the Romans, yet since the destruction of their city, 
 though often exposed to bitter persecutions, and that too in 
 countries where they were very numerous, they have seldom 
 or never attempted the slightest resistance ; but (in the words 
 of Bishop Heber) : — 
 
 " In dumb despaii- their country's wrongs behold, 
 And dead to glory, only burn for gold." 
 
 When Mahomet first set up his religion, after having in vain 
 invited the Jews to adopt it, which very few of them did, he ap- 
 pealed to the sword, and challenged them to take the field in the 
 
LECT. VII.] 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 185 
 
 cause of their faith against him and his followers ; but though 
 in some regions of the East they are reckoned to amount to a 
 quarter of the population, they generally refused to try the 
 event of battle; but submitted and still submit to be upbraided 
 by the Mahometans both as infidels and as cowards, and to be 
 oppressed and loaded with every kind of indignity, which they 
 bear with a patient stubbornness that is truly wonderful. But 
 any one may observe, even from a view of the comparatively 
 small number of them scattered through our own country, how 
 exactly their situation agrees both with the prophecy of Ezekiel 
 and with those of Moses in the Book of Deuteronomy ; especi- 
 ally in Chapter 28 : " Thou shalt become an astonishment, a 
 proverb, and a by-word among all nations whither the Lord shall 
 lead thee, and among these nations [' the wilderness of the peo- 
 ple,' as Ezekiel has it,] thou shalt find no ease, neither shall 
 the sole of thy foot have rest." 
 
 What is as remarkable, perhaps, as anything is, that all 
 this is denounced by Moses against them as a judgment for dis- 
 oheijing the Law he delivered ; and yet the Jews of the present 
 day are particularly strict in (what they consider) the observ- 
 ance of the Mosaic Law ; and what is more, seem to suffer all 
 the indignities they are exposed to, in consequence of their ad- 
 hering to that Law : since any one of them has only to renounce 
 Judaism and conform to the religion of the country he lives in, 
 and he is immediately blended with the general mass of the 
 people, and no longer distinguished as a Jew. 
 
 Now this ought to put a Jew of any candour upon consider- 
 ing how it can be that the very punishments denounced against 
 their nation as a judgment for disobeying the Mosaic law should 
 be actually inflicted on them for conforming to it. And this 
 would lead him, perhaps, to perceive that they are not really 
 conforming to the law of Moses, though they pretend and think 
 they are, but are in fact apostates from the religion which they 
 are supposing themselves to be so steadily maintaining. For 
 the very end and object and fulfilment of all the other ob- 
 servances of the Law, is the Messiah or Christ — the prophet 
 
186 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. vn. 
 
 whom Moses declared the Lord their God should raise up among 
 them like unto him [Moses]. " Him shall ye hear, and whoso- 
 ever will not hear that prophet, shall be cut off." 
 
 This they themselves allow, and are waiting to this day for 
 the coming of the Christ, whom they will not believe to have 
 been Jesus. But they themselves would admit that to reject 
 the Messiah or Christ, on his coming, would be to reject the 
 Mosaic law; and therefore, since their nation is actually suf- 
 fering the judgments threatened for rejecting the Mosaic law, 
 this should lead them to conclude that they have rejected Messiah. 
 
 And again, if a Jew were to reflect candidly on the strict- 
 ness with which his nation observe, and have long observed, 
 numerous precepts and religious rites instituted by Moses, 
 wondering at the same time that still no deliverance should 
 be afforded them, this might lead him to reflect that the most 
 important of all those observances, the sacrifices in the temple 
 (which made up the main part of the Jewish religion), are not 
 kept up. This, he would say, is not their fault, since they 
 have no temple. But to say that their not observing this law 
 is no fault of theirs, does not alter the fact, that it is not ob- 
 served ; and the Christian would tell him that all these sacri- 
 fices were figures and representations of the great sacrifice of 
 Jesus, which was accordingly intended to put an end to all 
 those ofierings under the Law, and to be the efiectual substi- 
 tute for them ; so that the way to comply with the precepts 
 of Moses concerning the offering of sacrifices, is to trust in the 
 great Atonement of Christ crucified ; and, instead of slaying 
 the paschal lamb, to feast at the Lord's table on those memo- 
 rials which He appointed, of the sacrifice of the true "Lamb 
 of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." And this, 
 God has declared to the Jews, if they would open their eyes 
 and ears, by his having abolished completely the sacrifices of 
 beasts in the temple, through the destruction of the temple 
 itself, which makes it absolutely impossible to comply with 
 the most important part of the law of Moses in any other way 
 than that in which Christians say it ought to be complied with. 
 
I^CT. VU.] 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 187 
 
 The Jew will not conform to this part of the law of Moses in 
 the manner in which we say he ought, and he cannot — through 
 the destruction of the temple — conform to it in any other way. 
 Christians, or those of any persuasion except the Jewish, 
 could, if expelled from their country, still celebrate the rites 
 of their religion. It is only to Jews that this is impossible. 
 Why God's providence has rendered it impossible to the Jews, 
 through the destruction of their temple, to obey literally the 
 principal part of the Law which He enjoined them to obey, 
 let them explain in any other way if they can. 
 
 Although, however, the Jewish prophecies, now that they 
 are fulfilled, appear conformable to the events predicted, and 
 though we perceive that the Jewish notion of a temporal and 
 triumphant Christ, and of the subjection of all nations to the 
 Jews-by-race, is at variance with those prophecies which speak 
 of a svffering Christ, and of the call of the Gentiles to be God's 
 people ; still, we know that all this was not understood by the 
 Jews, even those of them who became the disciples of Jesus, till 
 He had " opened their understanding that they might understand 
 the Scriptures," saying, " Thus it is written, and thus it behoved 
 the Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day." 
 
 And some may wonder why all this had not been so plainly 
 declared that all might have knoAvn beforehand what sort of 
 . a kingdom they were to expect, so that, when Jesus came, 
 they might have been prepared to receive his Gospel. 
 
 Now, it would certainly be unbecoming God's creatures to 
 demand, or to expect to obtain, in all cases, a full explanation 
 of all his dealings with Man. But this much we can perceive ; 
 that if the promised Saviour, when He came, had corresponded 
 exactly with all the expectations and hopes which the Jews 
 had been so long and so fondly cherishing, a reception of the 
 Gospel would have been in a manner forced upon them all, 
 without affording any trial of their candour in inquiry, and 
 their humble faith in God. And this forcing of the truth on 
 men's understanding by such evidence as the most perverse 
 and prejudiced could not withstand, seems contrary to the 
 
188 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. vn. 
 
 system on nvhich (for whatever reason) God's providence has 
 manifestly always proceeded, in what relates to moral and 
 religious truths. 
 
 But, now, let us consider what advantage we may derive 
 in respect of the evidence of our faith, from reflecting on the 
 state of mind of the Jews at the time our Lord appeared. 
 
 If He and his Gospel had corresponded with their interpre- 
 tation of the prophecies, and had consequently been readily 
 and gladly received by the greater part of the nation, would 
 there not have been room for a lurking suspicion that too 
 easy credit was given to the account of his miracles? — that a 
 people, so credulous as the Jews were at that time, were de- 
 luded, partly by their imagination, and partly by their ready 
 reception of feigned and exaggerated tales? We know that 
 such things have often taken place, both formerly and in our 
 own times; that accounts of miracles are received with very 
 little inquiry among ignorant people, who are predisposed to 
 admit the pretensions of those to whom the miracles are attri- 
 buted. Even the testimony of the senses is not always to be 
 relied on, in the case of weak and superstitious men, when 
 under strong prejudice. 
 
 But what is the actual case? Through their interpretation 
 of the prophecies, all the wishes and expectations — all the pre- 
 judice — all the weak credulity of the Jews were enlisted against 
 Jesus and his apostles. They were prepared to resist to the 
 utmost all the evidence in his favour ; and when they could 
 not deny the miracles they witnessed, were driven to the most 
 absurd explanations of them, as wrought by magic, and through 
 the agency of demons^ 
 
 Thus has Providence afforded us the overwhelming tes- 
 
 ' ThU is the account given by the 
 Jews themselves, in that verv ancient 
 work called the Toldoth Jeschu. 
 
 It is remarkable that when any Jews 
 or other anti-christians attempt to find a 
 parallel to the christian Narratives, in 
 Pagan Mythology, or Romish Legends, 
 the cases they adduce are always euch 
 
 as form a complete contrast to the chris- 
 tian miracles. In every instance the 
 miraculous narratives have been received 
 by a people predUposed to beheve them, 
 and have not been the foundation of 
 their religion, but resting on the religion 
 for reception. 
 
LECT. vn.] 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 189 
 
 timony of adversaries. Thus does the credulous weakness of 
 those adversaries supply strength to our cause. The former 
 unbelief, as well as the present condition of the Jews, makes 
 them unanswerable witnesses for the Gospel. 
 
 And let any infidel explain, if he can, how that extraordi- 
 nary nation came to be, and to have been so long, in such a 
 strange condition. They are to this day a standing miracle ; 
 a monument of the fulfilment of prophecy, and a sample of 
 God's judgments ; kept in existence, and kept separate from 
 all other people, among whom they are scattered, by t'le 
 " mighty hand and out-stretched arm " of God : despised and 
 oppressed, and utterly ruined as a nation ; yet still, as far as 
 ever from being extirpated or lost. They have been compared 
 to the burning bush which Moses saw in the wilderness, which 
 burned with fire, yet was not consumed. Thinned as they 
 must have been by the prodigious slaughter of the Romans, 
 and fugitives without a country ever since; and thinned also 
 by the great numbers who embraced the Gospel, who amounted, 
 even in Paul's time, to many myriads i in Jerusalem alone, they 
 are calculated to be at this time not less numerous than the 
 whole nation of Israel in the days of Solomon ! 
 
 I am acquainted with one very ingenious person — an infidel, 
 or nearly so — at least a sceptic — one who is not fully con- 
 vinced of the truth of our religion — who acknowledged to me 
 that, though he could see objections to the other arguments 
 commonly used in favour of Christianity, the case of the Jews, 
 i.e. their present state, considered along with their past history, 
 completely perplexed him. He could not conceive in what way to 
 account for this wonderful state of things, on the supposition of 
 our Scriptures not being true. 
 
 Those who resolve (as is the case with some writers in our 
 time) to admit nothing that is not, according to their notions, 
 probable, must, in this instance, refuse to believe what is before 
 their eyes. 
 
 I Our version has " thousands ;" but in the original, it is " tens of thousands." 
 
190 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. vn. 
 
 Nations without number have indeed before now been sub- 
 dued by their enemies. Some have lived under the govern- 
 ment of their conquerors, and generally mixed with those 
 conquerors ; some have been dispersed into other lands, and 
 mixed with the people of those lauds, so that their name has 
 been lost. These, our islands, have been possessed by Britons, 
 by Gaels, by Saxons, partially by Danes, and by Normans ; 
 but all are now, and have long been, blended together; no 
 one can point out which are descended from which of those 
 nations ; the very language we speak is a mixture of all theirs 
 together. No nation but the Je ,ts have been dispersed into all 
 lands without settling in any that they could call their own, 
 and yet retained their remarkable system of religion wherever 
 they have gone. 
 
 That wandering race which we call Gipsies, are those who, 
 in some points, come the nearest to the case of the Jews ; but 
 in the most important and remarkable points the cases are quite 
 different. 
 
 That people have been, not long since, fully made out to be 
 a race of Hindoos, some of whom are still left in our East 
 Indian territories ; they are properly called Zingaries or Chin- 
 garies ; they have a peculiar language, which has been found to 
 be a dialect of the Hindoo ; they are wanderers in most parts of 
 the world, and generally found unmixed with other races. So 
 far the two cases are alike ; but it is much less wonderful that 
 these Zingaries should be kept unmixed, because they live in 
 tents in the open fields, and mix very little in the multitude of 
 the great towns, so that they are not in the way of becoming 
 one people with those who lead so different a life from them ; 
 whereas, the Jews frequent exclusively crowded cities, and live 
 in houses, and engage in trades, in the midst of persons of other 
 nations : it is onhj their religion that keeps them distinct. 
 
 But the grand difference is, that the Zingaries, or Gipsies, 
 so far from maintaining a peculiar religion, and suffering per- 
 secution for it, are always ready to profess the religion of any 
 country where they are living ; they appear to have little or no 
 
LECT. VII.] 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 191 
 
 sense of religion in reality; but never make any scruple of 
 calling themselves Mahometans, or Romanists, or Protestants, if 
 required, according to the country in which they are. 
 
 The Jews, on the contrary, profess and steadily adhere to a 
 religion which has often brought persecution on them — a re- 
 ligion which is the very thing that keeps them separate from all 
 other people ; not, as in the case of the Gipsies, their mode 
 of life ; — a religion whose sacred books they carry with them 
 with extreme reverence wherever they wander; and which 
 books contain prophecies of the very banishment and disgrace to 
 "which their nation is now subjected, as well as of the Christ 
 whom they are still expecting, but whom Christians see in the 
 Lord Jesus. These pi-ophecies, therefore, which the Jews hold 
 in reverence, bear witness against themselves, when they are in 
 a christian country ; since they are unable to explain (though 
 we can) why they who boast of being God's peculiar people, 
 should be exposed to so severe a judgment, unless it be for the 
 sin of I'ejecting the promised Messiah. Yet, still, they rever- 
 ence these books, and bear witness in an unanswerable manner 
 to their being at least ancient books, and not forged by Chris- 
 tians ; and still, with these prophecies in their hands, they refuse 
 to embrace the Gospel ; they wander " in the wilderness of the 
 people" (as Ezekiel expresses it), fugitives in the midst of 
 populous nations ; even as their fathers wandered in the Wil- 
 derness of Sinai ; and both, for the same cause ; because, when 
 invited, they refused to enter " into the rest " which the Lord had 
 provided for them. Their fathers would not enter into the land 
 of Canaan when commanded ; and were sentenced to wander in the 
 wilderness forty years ; and their descendants would not enter 
 into the spiritual kingdom of God, which Canaan represented, 
 and they are still wandering " in the wilderness of the people." 
 
 Jews are found in pagan countries, in Mahometan countries, 
 and in various christian countries ; but everywhere they are 
 fulfilling the prediction of the prophet Balaam, which was con- 
 firmed and extended by Ezekiel' s — " the people shall dwell 
 alone, and shall not be numbered among the nations." 
 
192 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. ra. 
 
 Now let infidels, I say, explain all this if they can ; and let 
 Christians meditate upon it, and humbly praise God for having 
 been pleased to afford us so strong a proof of the truth of his 
 Gospel, even in the very cii'cumstance of the obstinate unbelief 
 of those to whom it was first preached, and who were once his 
 favoured People. Blind as they are to the truths before them, 
 they may be of use to enlighten us. They are like the burning- 
 glass, which, unwarmed itself by the sun's rays that pass through 
 it, serves to collect those rays, and to kindle by their power the 
 object on which it throws them. Their own faith is dead ; it is 
 the corpse of a departed revelation ; but it is like the bones of 
 the prophet Elijah, which, though still remaining lifeless them- 
 selves, revived the dead corpse of him who was laid upon them : 
 their dead and decayed religion may impart new life to ours. 
 
 It is a remarkable circumstance that the Jews expect, that, 
 under the reign of the Messiah, the Gentiles shall be converted 
 to a true religion (though not made equal to the Jews-by-birth), 
 and shall apply to the Jews for religious instruction. I once 
 had much conversation with a well-informed Jew, who cited to 
 me the prophetical passage from Zechariah viii. 23 : Ten men 
 shall take hold, out of all languages of the nations, even shall 
 take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying, We will go 
 with you.'; for we have heard that God is with you." It seemed 
 to have never occurred to him that this prophecy has been 
 fulfilled. All the books of the New Testament, which are 
 what we Gentiles rely on, were written by Jews. Jesus and his 
 Apostles were Jews ; it was by Jewish peasants and fishermen 
 that the religion of the civilized world was changed. 
 
 Some Christians, as well as the Jews of this day, look for- 
 ward to a further fulfilment of that prophecy, to come hereafter. 
 Whether this is to be so or not, is a matter of opinion, and one 
 on which opinions differ ; but that there has been a fulfilment 
 of the prophecy, is a matter, not of opinion, but of undeniable 
 and notorious fact. And the delivery and the fulfilment of that, 
 and of the other prophecies concerning the Jews, is what cannot 
 be explained by any unbeliever in Christianity. 
 
I.ECT. \H.] 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 193 
 
 Explain to me (you may say to one who urges doubts and 
 difficulties against the Gospel), explain to me first, before you 
 bring any objections against our religion, the past history, and 
 present condition of the Jews. There is nothing like the case 
 in all the world, nor ever was. You must allow it to be, at 
 least, singular and remarkable; point out by what natural 
 causes it might have come about: why have these things be- 
 fallen the Jews? and why did they never befall any other 
 people? And how came the prophets to foretell anything so 
 unlikely? And when you get a satisfactory answer to these 
 questions, you may then listen to whatever o1 jections may be 
 brought against the Gospel. But the questions are what we 
 may be very sure no infidel can ever answer ; or else surely they 
 would have been answered long before now. 
 
 There are several questions, (as I said at the beginning,) 
 relative to the Jewish nation, that are of a dmiblficl character, 
 and altogether speculative, as far as we are concerned, having 
 no reference to our practice. One of the questions relates to 
 descendants of that portion of what are called the ten Tribes, 
 who were carried away captive. 
 
 Some believe that a remnant of these will one day be dis- 
 covered, and will be brought back to their own former land. 
 Others think that there is no different dispensation designed 
 for those ten Tribes as distinguished from the rest, but that all 
 are to be blended together as one people, — as was distinctly 
 
 I declared to Ezekiel, (ch. 37,) who was commanded by the Lord 
 
 I to take two sticks, and write on one of them " for Judah and for 
 the children of Israel, his companions :" and on the other, '* for 
 
 ' Joseph, the stick of Ephraim, and the children of Israel, his 
 companions, and join them one to another, and they shall 
 become one stick in thine hand." And he was told to explain 
 
 i to the People that the Lord would gather together all the 
 Israelites, and they should be no more two nations, but one. 
 
 And, accordingly, the Apostle Paul speaks (Acts xxvi.) of 
 the '* twelve Tribes serving God" in his time; and James ad- 
 W. E. 0 
 
 I 
 
194 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. vn. 
 
 dresses his epistle to the twelve Tribes. And in the opening of 
 the Lecture I reminded you of the narrative in Chronicles, of 
 the junction of large bodies of the several Tribes to the 
 kingdom of Judah. 
 
 But the whole question is, as I have said, merely a specu- 
 lative one ; since, if there does exist some remnant of the ten 
 Tribes that is hereafter to be restored to the Holy Land, we 
 are not required either to assist or to oppose them. 
 
 And the same may be said of the recovery, — which some 
 persons expect, — of Jerusalem by the Jewish nation, and the 
 rebuilding of their Temple. We, at all events, are nowhere 
 commanded either to aid such an attempt, or to oppose it: so 
 that the question, though it may be a practical one to the 
 Jews, is, to tis, one of mere speculative curiosity. 
 
 We are, indeed, assured that there is to be no religious 
 distinction between believing Jews and Gentiles ; — no spiritual 
 superiority in the children of Abraham after the flesh. For 
 the Apostle Paul declares, most expressly, that " in Christ 
 Jesus there is neither Jew nor Greek, Barbarian, Scythian, 
 bond or free; but Christ is all, and in all;" and he says 
 elsewhere, writing to Gentiles, if ye are Christ's, then are ye 
 Ahraham^s seed, and heirs according to the promise : " and he 
 calls Christians " the Israel of God." 
 
 But as for a temporal restoration of the Jewish nation, that 
 is a doubtful question, and one on which learned and pious 
 Christians are divided : and it is a question of no practical im- 
 port to us\ 
 
 There is, indeed, even an attraction, to some minds, in 
 curious speculations, connected with religion, but which are 
 not practical; — which afford the satisfaction of feeling that 
 one is piously occupied, while at the same time there is no 
 call for troublesome exertion, — for vigilant care, — for laborious 
 effort to learn or to do something : but somewhat the kind of 
 gratification that is derived from a beautiful Poem, or a fine 
 
 ' See Lectures on a Future State. The Lecture on the Expected Restoration of 
 (he Jews, may be had separate. 
 
LECT. VII.] THE JEWS. 195 
 
 piece of Sacred Music. But without passing any censure on 
 such speculations, we must admit that the first place in point 
 of importance, belongs to what is practical and useful. I have 
 accordingly been endeavouring (as I said in the outset) to 
 turn your attention profitably to some well-estuhlished points 
 which do practically concern ourselves. The confirmation which 
 is aflforded to the truth of the Gospel by the contemplation of 
 the history, and present state, of the Jews, is completely within 
 the reach of the plainest Christian who can but read his Bible, 
 and who will but be at pains to reflect a little on what he 
 reads, and also on what is passing around him. And let not 
 his reflections come to a close as soon as he is fully convinced 
 of the truth of the Gospel. The Jews, not only serve as a 
 proof to us, but also as an example, and a sign, and a warning. 
 "These things" (says Paul, of the ancient transactions of the 
 nation) " these things happened unto them for examples, and 
 they are written for our admonition ;" and surely the things 
 which have happened since Paul's time are not the less fit 
 to answer the same purpose. The Jews, by displaying God's 
 mercy, and also his severity, towards that nation as a nation, 
 in respect of the things of this world, admonish us what each 
 single individual among Christians has to expect with regard 
 to the things of the next world. They afibrd a specimen, by 
 way of proof, of the plan of God's dealings with Man. They 
 teach us that it is not some part of those who enjoy the 
 light of the Gospel, but all of them, whether they listen to 
 the call or not, that are God's elect, chosen, peculiar People ; 
 since not some only, but the whole Jewish nation were God's 
 elect of old. \JElect and chosen, you should observe, are trans- 
 lations of the same word in the original.] They teach us, 
 again, that he who trusts in the privilege of being one of 
 God's Elect, and thinks his salvation sure on that ground, 
 without striving to " walk worthy of the vocation wherewith 
 he is called," is in the same error with those Jews who thought 
 " to say within themselves, we have Abraham to our Father," 
 and who were punished even the more severely on account of 
 
 0 3 
 
196 
 
 THE JEWS. 
 
 [lect. vn. 
 
 their heing God's People, for not " bringing forth fruits meet 
 for repentance," They teach us that God's mercy is indeed 
 to be relied on by those who embrace his offers, but not by 
 those who are deaf to them. Those have only to expect his 
 severity. That He is mighty to save, and gracious, and faith- 
 ful to his promises, and long suffering, the Jews afford a 
 proof. That He can, and will, punish, when He has declared 
 that He will, of this also the Jews afford a proof. The Gospel 
 holds out not temporal, but eternal rewards and punishments. 
 The temporal rewards and punishments of the Jewish Nation 
 are samples of the divine government of all men : and the 
 Christian in proportion as he has a far more glorious — a 
 heavenly Canaan, set before him, and a far brighter reve- 
 lation bestowed on hira, must look for the heavier judgments 
 also in the next world, in case of his neglecting those advan- 
 tages. " He that despised Moses' Law," (as we read in the 
 Epistle to the Hebrews,) " died without mercy under two or 
 three witnesses ; of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, 
 shall he be thought worthy who hath trodden under foot the 
 Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant where- 
 with he was sanctified an unholy thing, and hath done despite 
 unto the Spirit of Grace." " Wherefore," (says the same 
 Epistle,) " to day if ye will hear his voice, — even while it is 
 called to-day, lest any of you be hardened through the deceit- 
 fulness of sin, — to-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not 
 your hearts, as in the provocation, and temptation in the wilder- 
 ness, — lest He swear in his wrath that ye shall not enter into 
 bis eternal rest." 
 
LECTURE YIII. 
 
 ON THE SUPPOSED DANGERS OF A 
 LITTLE LEARNING. 
 
 [N.B. — This Lecture ivas delivered at Cork in the year 1852, 
 introductory to a course of Lectures, by several hands.] 
 
 It is, I trust, sufficiently understood that it is not my pur- 
 pose to deliver one of that course of lectures which it is proposed 
 to have delivered in connexion with the Exhibition ; but only to 
 make a few prefatory observations as an introduction to those 
 lectures which are about being delivered by persons more com- 
 petent, in their respective departments, than myself. 
 
 The proposed lectures should be considered as emanating 
 from — as the offspring of — the National Exhibition; and, in 
 fact, may be considered as a subsidiary and necessary portion of 
 it. These lectures do not undertake or pretend to give a course 
 of education in any one particular department, any more than 
 the collection of manufactures and articles viewed this day, 
 should be considered as a warehouse, rather than a sample of 
 what Nature and Art were capable of producing in this country. 
 Such an exhibition, I take it, would be unfinished and incom- 
 plete unless some specimens were also exhibited of what could 
 be done, in the way of instruction, by those whom the country 
 could produce to give that instruction to the nation. Of all the 
 instruments which are exhibited in the collection I have in- 
 spected in the course of the day, there is none so important 
 as a good instructor. The flax, growing in the field, is not more 
 different from the finest and most finished cambric than an 
 ignorant man is from a well informed man. The proposed 
 
198 
 
 ON THE SUPPOSED DANGERS 
 
 [lect. vm. 
 
 lectures are not intended to furnish full instruction in any one 
 department, but merely as a specimen of what may be done in 
 the way of imparting information — to show what lectures can do 
 to those who are disposed to resort to and pi'ofit by them. 
 
 The National Exhibition has not been got up, as far as I can 
 observe and collect, from any spirit of rivalry or jealousy against 
 the Great Exhibition in London last year — but it has been got 
 up in a spirit of honest and laudable emulation ; not to show 
 how well Ireland can get on without England and the rest of 
 the world, but to show how worthy Ireland is to be included 
 in the industrious nations of the world, and how worthy it is to 
 form a portion of the British empire. And as there has been 
 no feeling of jealousy exhibited in getting up this Exhibition, 
 so I hope no feeling of low narrow-mindedness or base jealousy 
 will be excited in England against it. If the English should 
 see as much to be admired as I have seen this day, I conceive 
 the natural effect will be congratulation to the Irish, and in- 
 creased emulation amongst the English. I think I may say 
 that the National Exhibition, if not more admirable than the 
 Great Exhibition, may be called more surprising, considering 
 the circumstances under which each was got up. 
 
 What I say respecting Ireland as a part of the British Em- 
 pire — and my desire has always been to see Ireland considered 
 a worthy member of the Empire— is no new sentiment with me, 
 and has not been taken up for the present occasion, nor since 
 my coming to this country ; but, is the sentiment which my 
 most intimate friends could bear witness of as being mine from 
 the time I have been able to form an opinion on a public sub- 
 ject. It has always been my wish that Ireland should be con- 
 sidered as a really integral portion of the British empire, and as 
 such admitted to take its place with all the others, and not to be 
 considered as a province or a dependency of the Empire, but as 
 much a part of it as Yorkshire or any other portion of the 
 Kingdom. I may be mistaken as to what would conduce to the 
 welfare of England and the welfare of this country ; but, there 
 is not an Englishman nor an Irishman who has more at heart 
 
LECT. VIII.] 
 
 OP A LITTLE LEARNING. 
 
 199 
 
 the welfare of the Kingdom, or any portion of the British Empire, 
 than I have. And it has always appeared to me — if any one 
 thinks me mistaken, I trust he v/iW, at all events, accord me 
 credit for sincerity in what I say, — that the narrow policy of 
 separating England from Ireland, and setting forth their in- 
 terests as inimical and antagonistic, and exciting the feelings of 
 the people against each other, savours of barbarism, and is in 
 effect, bringing them back to the days of the Heptarchy. I 
 would never join in the cry of "Ireland for the Irish;" nor 
 would I join in the cry of "England for the English" — which is 
 only the second part of the same tune. If you adopted such a 
 plan, they would then have the cry of Cork for Corkmen " 
 and " Dublin for Dubliners," and thus you would be narrowing 
 yourselves into cities, and towns, and clans, until all would 
 relapse into a state of semi-barbarism, such as is to be found 
 in New Zealand and Africa. I am confident that the prosperity 
 of Ireland will always be reflected on England, and that the pros- 
 perity and wealth and tranquillity of the latter will reach the 
 former. I have always considered the two countries as two 
 brothers — the best and most useful friends when united ; but the 
 bitterest and worst enemies when disunited. These are not 
 sentiments taken up for the present occasion, but sentiments 
 which I have always felt and expressed openly from the period 
 I was first able to form and express an opinion. 
 
 Lectures, something of the same character, only of a more 
 continuous and prolonged course, and having the character of 
 being in connection with a more permanent institution, than 
 those about being delivered in this hall, were established several 
 years ago at Manchester, and also at Edinburgh ; and on the es- 
 tablishment of those lectures, and of a library and museum, I 
 was invited to attend the opening. I did attend at Manchester, 
 and subsequently at Edinburgh; and on both occasions ex- 
 pressed my warm approbation of their proceedings, and a hearty 
 wish for their success ; and for so doing, I and those other per- 
 sons who had taken a part in the proceedings, were reviled and 
 ridiculed, by a certain portion of the Press, with the bitterest 
 
200 
 
 OK THE SUPPOSED DAXGERS [lect. \-in. 
 
 derision. It is not for me to say how far that portion of the 
 Press was actuated by a -wish to repress and circumscribe the 
 spread of education among the people ; but, for some reason or 
 another — as I presume there was a reason for doing it — we were 
 most bitterly reviled and maligned. Those who did so put forth 
 grounds in justification of their conduct, which, as far as I could 
 understand them resolved themselves into two reasons. First, 
 they said, this was a plan for imparting knowledge, not neces- 
 sarily connected with religion and morality, nor under the con- 
 trol or supervision of the teachers of morality and religion ; and 
 as the lecturers were not under the control of spiritual teachers, 
 the more able and instructive these lecturers were, the more 
 they would be enabled to corrupt the mind of the learner, and 
 the more dangerous they might make him. The second objec- 
 tion was to what might be called " the dangers of smattering " 
 — the dangers of "a little learning." They said the people 
 would be the worse for having a slight knowledge — " a little 
 learning " imparted to them. 
 
 On those two objections I shall make a few observations. 
 — The lectures which were established at Manchester and at 
 Edinburgh, five or six years ago, like those lectures that are 
 about being established here, did not contain, as a portion 
 of them, moral and religious instruction ; and therefore they 
 were represented as dangerous. Now, in all the works I have 
 written I have warned men against the danger of neglecting 
 a moral and religious education, and against any undue pre- 
 ponderance being given to secular instruction without a duly 
 proportionate attention being devoted to morality and religion. 
 And I pointed out that the same amount of moral and re- 
 ligious cultivation which would be suflScient for a very ignorant 
 clown, should not be considered a fair proportion for those 
 who had received a higher degree of secular cultivation. That 
 which would be the tithe of a small produce should not be 
 ofiFered as tithe of a larger one. But you should remember 
 that while these lectures are being delivered, there is no defi- 
 ciency of religious and moral instruction elsewhere, be it good 
 
LECT. vm.] 
 
 OF A LITTLE LEARNING. 
 
 201 
 
 or bad. There are sermons to be heard from persons of all 
 religious denominations, which are, in fact, lectures on religion 
 and morality, from which persons may, if they so please, derive 
 moral instruction; and it would be as impi'oper if in those 
 sermons allusion were made to agriculture, chemistry, or the 
 fine arts, as if in lectures on chemistry, agriculture, or the 
 fine arts, the lecturer were to inculcate morality and religion. 
 As to any compulsory system of religious teaching I have 
 always been opposed to it, both on principle -and on grounds 
 of expediency. We have no right to force upon any person 
 religious or moral instruction; for, as Shakespere said of 
 mercy, its quality 
 
 " is not strained. 
 
 It di-oppeth like the gentle rain from Heaven, 
 Upon the place beneath." 
 
 But all we can do to provide against the danger of neglecting 
 the moral and religious cultivation of the mind, is, to warn 
 man of the danger of such neglect ; and when we have done 
 that, we have done all we can do. It would be useless, and 
 worse than useless, to force moral instruction on a person as a 
 condition of his receiving a secular education. 
 
 But you will be told by some that " they only wish secular 
 education to be under the control of those who have the 
 spiritual guidance of the persons receiving such secular educa- 
 tion;" that " those spiritual directors should have a veto upon 
 everything which has reference to the secular education; be- 
 cause," they add, " the lecturer on geology might, in the course 
 of his address, insinuate false and mischievous notions in re- 
 gard to religion and morality ; and therefore the entire control 
 of the secular education should be placed under the guidance 
 and superintendence of the spiritual guides of the people." 
 
 Now, as to the danger in question, I will not deny that it is 
 possible for a teacher of some branch of secular learning to 
 introduce false religious notions, and mischievous and dangerous 
 moral principles. But I do not think there is any adequate 
 
202 
 
 ON THE SUPPOSED DANGERS 
 
 [lect. vm. 
 
 safeguard against such danger, except • to warn men against 
 it, and to tell them to teach merely geology, mathematics, 
 chemistry, agriculture, &c., in their respective departments ; 
 but, in so doing, to take care that they do not insinuate any- 
 thing against religious and moral principles. For if you go be- 
 yond this precaution, there is a danger on the opposite side. If 
 you leave the teaching of geology and mathematics to the spirit- 
 ual teachers of the people, you may find that these may make 
 as great errors as the others, by teaching false philosophical 
 principles. "What a different kind of danger!" it maybe 
 said. " Suppose a man did imbibe some false notions of phi- 
 losophy — how trifling is this in comparison with his imbibing 
 false religious and dangerous moral principles." *' May not a 
 man," they continue, " be a good Christian although a bad 
 chemist? May not a man be a good Christian although he 
 believe the sun goes round the earth." Now this I hold to be 
 altogether an erroneous view of the case. You will perceive on 
 reflection that the danger is nearly the same, and not less, but 
 gi;eater. False philosophical notions indeed, conveyed by pro- 
 fessors who are the spiritual teachers of the people, if given 
 merely as their own private opinions, as individuals, and not 
 as interwoven with their religious teaching, are no greater 
 evil than if taught by any one else. But it is not so with 
 errors in science when represented as connected with reli- 
 gion. Although errors in chemistry and physics are in them- 
 selves insignificant when compared with the danger of wrong 
 notions in religion and morality, there is danger of persons 
 being taught certain erroneous notions of philosophy as a 
 part of their religion, and by that means having a lever placed 
 under their religious principles which will upheave and over- 
 turn them. True, a man may be a good Christian and a 
 moral man, though he believe that the sun moves round the 
 earth. But, suppose that man was taught, as a part of divine 
 revelation, and an essential point of his faith, that the sun 
 really does move round the earth, then, when it is demonstrated 
 to him that such is not the fact, he thus is led to believe that 
 
LECT. vm.] 
 
 OF A LITTLE LEARNING. 
 
 203 
 
 he has got a system of wrong notions as his religious faith, and 
 he -will be inclined to doubt it all. 
 
 I will give an instance which came under my own knowledge 
 in the discussion of a question of physical truth as connected 
 with religious and moral truth. There was, some twenty years 
 ago, a reviewer, who, in a review of a work (in the Wesiminster 
 Review) contended that it was impossible any revelation could 
 have been made to Man, because, according to the reviewer, 
 in the second book of Chronicles, it appeared from a descrip- 
 tion of the temple, that the Jews did not know that the 
 diameter of a circle differed from a third of its circumference. 
 The answer to this argument is simple. For, first, it was not 
 clear that the Jews ivere ignorant of the fact that the diameter 
 of a circle differed from a third part of its circumference ; and 
 secondly, even if they were ignorant of that geometrical truth, 
 it did not follow that they could not have had a revelation that 
 the heavens and the earth were made by a Supreme Being. It 
 is not clear that the Jews were ignorant of the geometrical 
 truth ; and the reviewer's conclusions did not follow even if 
 they were ignorant. We all speak of the rising and the setting 
 of the sun. The reviewer himself would have spoken of the 
 same ; and yet we all know that the sun does not rise or set. 
 The reviewer certainly would not have hesitated to say — " go 
 in a straight line from this place to that, and be sure you are 
 there before sunset." And yet (according to his own reasoning) 
 from so saying, he would appear to be ignorant of the globular 
 form of the earth, as well as of the Copernican system of 
 astronomy. How absurd and pedantic it would be to say — "go 
 in a geodesic line from this place to that, and be sure you 
 are there before that portion of the earth is withdrawn from 
 the sun's rays." 
 
 But, now, take a different view of the case. Suppose a 
 teacher of theology had taken up the above notion, and being 
 a bad mathematician, had insisted that they were bound to 
 take it as a part and parcel of the christian revelation, that 
 the circumference was treble the diameter, what would be the 
 
204 
 
 ON THE SUPPOSED DANGERS [lect. mi. 
 
 consequence? Simply, that a student learning Euclid would 
 fancy he had got a mathematical demonstration of the falsity of 
 the Bible. 
 
 All the security we can have from the dangers on both sides, 
 is to put the people on their guard against them, and say, " let 
 no person go beyond his own department." Look in the Scrip- 
 tures for religious instruction ; and, above all, let the theologian 
 be always warned to teach his people, that a true religion has 
 nothing to fear, and can have nothing to fear, from a full and 
 searching investigation of Nature — that false and pretended 
 religions may be overthrovm from facts brought to light, but 
 that true religion is confirmed by enlightenment and investiga- 
 tion. It comes from the Author of Nature, and He cannot 
 contradict Himself. Two great volumes are placed before us — 
 the book of Nature and the book of Revelation, and as they 
 came from the same Author, they cannot contradict each other. 
 We should learn to read them both aright. 
 
 The other objection which is urged agamst this system of 
 lectm-ing, is, in the words of the Poet — 
 
 " A little learning is a dangerous thing." 
 
 That is an objection frequently urged, and I acknowledge the 
 existence of the danger. I admit that with a " little learning" 
 people are likely to be puffed up with vanity — to consider them- 
 selves above laborious work — and to become discontented at not 
 being honoured as the very accomplished persons they consider 
 themselves. I do not deny the danger. But the poet adds aa 
 a remedy — 
 
 " Drink deep or taste not." 
 
 I think on reflection you will perceive that both of these reme- 
 dies "drink deep" and "taste not," are impossible. "Drink 
 deep ! " Hoiv deep are they to go ? Is not the most learned 
 man, even in any department to which he may have completely ' 
 devoted himself, extremely ignorant in reference to the subject 
 itself? He may have gone very " deep" in comparison with 
 
LECT. vm-l OF A LITTLE LEARNING. 205 
 
 some of his neighbours, but still is he not very ignorant "when 
 his knowledge is compared with that which he does not know ? 
 Five centuries ago, a man went more "deep" than the gene- 
 rality, who could read. The gigantic telescope, which is such 
 an honour to this country, has brought to light wonders in 
 astronomy, that go far beyond anything with which we were 
 previously acquainted ; showing that the astronomers who 
 " drank deep," three centuries ago, were mere children when 
 compared to those who lived a century since, and that those 
 again were children to those who have followed them. It is 
 impossible to have more than a very "little learning" in com- 
 parison to what we have to remain ignorant of. As, in making 
 a clearing in an American forest, the more trees you fell, the 
 wider is the prospect of surrounding wood, so, the more we 
 learn, the more we perceive of what is yet unlearnt. A man 
 may indeed attain a very great and a very " deep" degree of 
 learning in comparison of his neighbours ; but, is he, therefore, 
 the less likely to be self- conceited and puffed up ? But if by 
 " drink deep" is meant, learn modesty, there cannot be a better 
 admonition, or one in which I would more heartily concur. 
 
 I would, therefore, say, the first recommendation of the 
 poet — " drink deep" — is impracticable. The other — " taste 
 ! not" — that is to say, have no learning, is equally impossible. 
 The most ignorant clown knows something ; and knows some- 
 thing that is often dangerous. You will not find in the most 
 remote part of Ireland, a peasant who does not know what 
 money is ; who does not know the difference between a penny 
 and a half-crown, and even between a half-crown and gold. 
 But it is possible that this same peasant may think that the 
 rich are the cause of all the sufferings of the poor ; and that if 
 I the rich were to be plundered of their property and massacred, 
 the people would be better off. This shows the danger of a little 
 knowledge ; but now the peasantry may learn a little more ; I 
 am happy to say, in the class books of the National schools, 
 they may learn that the rich are a benefit to their country, and 
 that if they were destroyed, the country would be worse off than 
 
206 
 
 ON THE SUPPOSED DANGERS 
 
 [lect. Ym. 
 
 before. There is no one in this assembly, although I believe I 
 am surrounded by persons of erudition and high attainments, 
 •who is not — with respect to many branches of knowledge — in the 
 perilous position of having a " little learning." I suppose that 
 although not many of you are profound agriculturists, you all 
 know the difference between a crop of turnips and a crop of oats. 
 Although there may not be a dozen chemists in the room, I am 
 sure you all could tell the difference between salts and sugar. 
 And it is very possible, and also very useful, to have that slight 
 smattering of chemistry which will enable one to distinguish 
 from the salts used in medicine, the oxalic acid, with which, 
 through mistake, several persons have been poisoned. Again, 
 without being an eminent botanist, a person may know — what 
 it is most important to know — the difference between cherries 
 and the berries of the deadly Night-shade ; the want of which 
 knowledge has cost many lives. 
 
 Again, there is no one present, even of those who are not 
 profound politicians, who is not aware that we have rulers ; and 
 is it not proper that he should understand that government is 
 necessary to preserve our lives and property ? Is he likely to 
 be a worse subject for knowing that ? That depends very much 
 on the kind of government you wish to establish. If you wish 
 to establish an unjust and despotic government — or, if you wish 
 to set up a false religion, — then it would be advisable to avoid 
 the danger of enlightening the people. But if you wish to 
 maintain a good government, the more the people understand 
 the advantages of good government, the more they will respect 
 it ; and the more they know of true religion, the more they will 
 value it. 
 
 There is nothing more general among uneducated people 
 than a disposition to Socialism, and yet nothing more injurious 
 to their own welfare. An equalization of wages would be most 
 injurious to themselves; for it would, at once, destroy all emula- 
 tion. All motives for the acquisition of skill, and for superior 
 industry, would be removed. All the manufactures in this Ex- 
 hibition would be utterly destroyed by the equalization of wages. 
 
LECT. vm.] 
 
 OP A LITTLE LEARNING. 
 
 207 
 
 Now it is but a little knowledge of political economy that is 
 needed for the removal of this error ; but that little is highly 
 useful. 
 
 Again, every one knows, no matter how ignorant of medi- 
 cine, that there is such a thing as disease. But as an instance 
 of the impossibility of the " taste not" recommendation of the 
 poet, I will mention a fact, which perhaps is known to you all. 
 When the cholera broke out in Poland, the peasantry of that 
 country took it into their heads that the nobles were poisoning 
 them in order to clear the country of them ; they believed the 
 rich to be the authors of that terrible disease ; and the con- 
 sequence was that the peasantry rose in masses, broke into the 
 houses of the nobility, and finding some chloride of lime, which 
 had been used for the purpose of disinfecting, they took it for 
 the poison which had caused the disease, and they murdered 
 them. Now, that was the sort of a " little learning" which was 
 very dangerous. 
 
 Again, you cannot prevent people from believing that there 
 is some superhuman Being who has an interest in human affairs. 
 Some clowns in the Weald of Kent, who ha* been kept as much 
 as possible on the taste not" system, — left in a state of gross 
 ignorance, — yet believed that the Deity did impart special 
 powers to certain men : and that belief, coupled with excessive 
 stupidity, led them to take an insane fanatic for a prophet. In 
 this case, this " little learning" actually caused an insurrection 
 in his favour, in order to make him king, priest, and prophet, of 
 the British empire ; and many lives were sacrificed before this 
 insane insurrection was put down. If a " little learning" is a 
 " dangerous thing," you will have to keep people in a perfect 
 state of idiotcy in order to avoid that danger. I would, there- 
 fore, say that both the recommendations of the poet are im- 
 practicable. 
 
 The question then arises what are we to do ? Simply, to 
 impress upon all people to labour to know how little their 
 learning is ; how little, in comparison to what they remain 
 ignorant of, they know. And the more they are taught, the 
 
208 
 
 ON THE SUPPOSED DANGERS [lect. vm. 
 
 less likely they will be to overrate or mistake the character of 
 their learning. Other things being equal, the more widely 
 knowledge is diffused among mankind, the less danger there 
 is of an ill-use being made of it. For, what is more mischievous 
 to the tranquillity of a country than a clever, unprincipled, 
 " patriot " demagogue, who makes use of a number of ignorant 
 and uncultivated people as his tools? He gets the people to 
 believe in him as a patriot, a guide, perhaps a prophet ; and 
 they will do anything — commit any extravagances that he 
 may direct. Who ever heard of an educated rabble? Who 
 ever heard of such a thing as a riotous mob consisting of men 
 of cultivated minds ? Such a thing is impossible ; for each 
 would be thinking for himself, and all would be generals. The 
 more widely, therefore, you diffuse intellectual culture, the 
 greater is your chance of a peaceable, and well ordered com- 
 munity. A little light is only dangerous to those who walk 
 boldly on in the twilight — to those who do not see where they 
 tread. But, I would say, seek not to remedy the danger by 
 blinding the eyes. 
 
 Some persons, however, are not so much afraid of those who 
 have but a little knowledge, as of what are called smatterers ; — 
 persons who are puffed up on account of their having learnt 
 certain hard words — certain scientific and technical terms : 
 from having attended lectures on what they have been pleased 
 to term the various " ologies " — geology, biology, chronology, 
 ornithology — which enable the smatterers to move along in 
 society, as if they were well informed on all the " ologies." I 
 admit this danger too, and have often pointed it out. But 
 there is another danger — that of a scorn for all Science, — for 
 all systematic knowledge, — combined with a self-sufiBcient confi- 
 dence in what is called common sense and experience. And 
 this danger, though not so often pointed out, is as great, if 
 not greater than that to which I have alluded, and far more 
 hopeless. There are men who depend on *' their experience " 
 and their " common sense " for everything — who are con- 
 tinually obtruding what may be called the pedantry of their 
 
LECX. vm.] 
 
 OF A LITTLE LEARNING. 
 
 209 
 
 " experience" and their "common sense" on the most abstruse 
 subjects. They meet all scientific and logical argument with 
 " common sense tells me I am right " — and, " my every day's 
 experience confirms me in the opinion I have formed." If they 
 are spoken to of Political Economy, they will immediately 
 reply — " Ah, I know nothing of the dreams of Political Econ- 
 omy " (this is the very phrase I have heard used) — " I never 
 studied it — I never troubled myself about it; but there are 
 some points upon which I have made up my mind, such as 
 the questions of Free Trade, and Protection, and Poor Laws." 
 " I do not profess" — a man will perhaps say — " to know anything 
 of Medicine, or Pharmacy, or Anatomy, or any of those 
 things ; but I know by experience that so and so is wholesome 
 for sick people." 
 
 In former times men knew by experience that the earth 
 stands still, and the sun rises and sets. Common sense taught 
 them, that there could be no antipodes, since men could not 
 stand with their heads downwards, like flies on the ceiling. 
 Experience taught the King of Bantam that water can never 
 become solid. And — to come to the case of human afiairs — 
 the experience and common sense of the most intelligent of 
 the Roman historians, Tacitus, taught him that for a mixed 
 government to be established, combining the elements of 
 Royalty, Aristocracy and Democracy would be next to impos- 
 sible ; and that if it were established, it must speedily be 
 dissolved. Yet had he lived to the present day, he would 
 have learned that the establishment and continuance of such 
 a form of government was not impossible. So much for 
 experience! The experience of some persons resembles the 
 learning of a man who has turned over the pages of a great 
 many books without ever having learned to read: and their 
 so-called common sense is often in reality, nothing else than 
 common prejudice. 
 
 We may rest assured then, that those who afiect to dread 
 and despise what they call a smattering of science, and trust 
 to experience and common sense, have no security against 
 
 W. E. P 
 
210 
 
 ON THE SUPPOSED DANGERS, ETC. [lzct. vin. 
 
 error, or against presumptuous confidence in error, if they 
 are deficient in real sound judgment, and in modesty ; and 
 with these qualities, no one will be in danger of self-sufficiency 
 and pedantry from the acquisition of scientific truth, be it 
 much or little. 
 
 Be not deterred therefore, I would say, by the dread of 
 being called smatterers, from seeking a little knowledge where 
 more is not within your reach : only take care not to over- 
 estimate your knowledge, be it small or great. 
 
 These Lectures will never, I am convinced, deter any one 
 from reading, and from studying systematically what he 
 ■would, but for these Lectures, have so studied. They are 
 more likely to incite some to read and inquire concerning 
 subjects to which they might otherwise have never given a 
 thought. And to all, the little knowledge they may impart 
 may prove useful in various ways, and not least in giving 
 them some notion of the vast amount remaining behind of 
 knowledge which they have not acquired. 
 
REVIEWS. 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 1. Facts and Observations respecting Canada and the United 
 States of America; affording a Comparative View of the 
 inducements to Emigration presented in those Countries : to 
 which is added an Appendix of Practical Instructions to Emi- 
 grant Settlers in the British Colonies. By Charles F. Grece, 
 Member of the Montreal and Quebec Agricultural Societies ; 
 and Author of Essays on Husbandry, addressed to the Canadian 
 Farmers. 8vo. pp. 172. Loudon. 1819. 
 
 2. The Emigrant's Guide to Upper Canada ; or, Sketches of the 
 Present State of that Province, collected from a Residence^ 
 therein during the Tears 1817, 1818, 1819. Interspersed with 
 Reflections. By C. Stuart, Esq., Retired Captain of the Honour- 
 able the East India Company's Service, and one of His Majesty's 
 Justices of the Peace for the Western District of Uj^per Canada. 
 12mo. pp. 335. London. 1820. 
 
 3. A Visit to the Province of Upper Canada, in 1819. By James 
 Strachan. 8vo. pp. 224. Aberdeen. 1820. 
 
 We had occasion lately' to discuss generally the subject 
 of emigration ; but it is too important a topic to be speedily 
 exhausted of its interest: and the public attention has been 
 of late so particularly directed to the Cape, that it becomes 
 a duty to prevent, as far as our influence extends, an undue 
 neglect of our North American colonies. 
 
 In fact, the growth and prosperity of the Cape and of 
 Canada, do not necessarily intei-fere with each other : both are 
 well deserving the most careful attention of government, and 
 both hold out great advantages to individual emigrants ; while 
 these advantages are in many respects so different in the two 
 
 • In a former Number of the Quarterly Review. 
 
 p 3 
 
212 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 colonies, as very materially to lessen the rivalship between them 
 Those whom health or inclination leads to prefer a much warmer 
 climate than our own, will naturally prefer the Cape : those, on 
 the other hand, who wish for a climate and soil, and produce, 
 and culture, the most nearly approaching that to which they 
 have been accustomed, will be more nearly suited, we appre- 
 hend, in Upper Canada, than in any other spot they can fix 
 upon. The comparative shortness of the voyage also, will be 
 likely to influence the decision of many emigrants ; and the 
 number of colonists of British origin already fixed there, will 
 be an inducement to others, especially to such as have con- 
 nexions or friends among the number. 
 
 Of those, however, who resolve to settle in North America, 
 a very large proportion fix on some part or other (the western 
 territory especially) of the United States, in preference to our 
 own provinces; a preference which, in many instances at least, 
 arises, as we are convinced on the best authority, partly from the 
 exaggerated descriptions of Mr. Birkbeck and others, of the 
 superior advantages held out by the United States, and partly 
 from the misapprehensions and misrepresentations which pre- 
 vail respecting Canada. Of the efiect produced by those 
 exaggerations, a remarkable instance has been transmitted to us 
 by a most respectable correspondent in Upper Canada. A person 
 went from the district of Newcastle, (selling his farm there,) 
 and another, from the Bay of Quinty, allured by the hopes of 
 better success in the United States ; one of them looked about 
 for an eligible spot to the north and east of Washington ; the 
 other in the western territory : but both ultimately returned, 
 and fixed themselves in the settlements which they had quitted. 
 
 The ignorance and misrepresentation also with respect to 
 our own provinces are astonishingly "great and wide-spread : 
 Lower and Upper Canada are perpetually, even by those who 
 ought to know better, confounded in a great degree in what 
 regards their climate, productions, and inhabitants. Many 
 persons have a vague general idea of Canada as a cold uncom- 
 fortable region, inhabited by people of French extraction : but 
 even those whom a glance at the map has satisfied of the wide 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 213 
 
 interval between the extremities of Lower and of Upper Canada, 
 may not be prepared to expect (and indeed the interval of latitude 
 is not sulBcient to account for it) so great a difference as between 
 five months of winter and three; or to believe that the Upper Pro- 
 vince enjoys, on the whole, a much warmer climate than this island. 
 
 We need not indeed wonder at the prevalence of erroneous 
 opinions on this subject among the mass of the community, 
 when we find even official persons stating in general terms, that 
 " our North American colonies labour under the disadvantage 
 of a barren soil, and an ungenial climate !" How remote this 
 representation is from the truth, may be readily inferred from 
 the remarkable fact, that, notwithstanding the high price of 
 labour, and the utter worthlessness, in most cases, of timber, 
 the settler not only can always find persons willing to clear his 
 land for him, on condition of having the first crop from it, but 
 is considered as having made, if he resorts to this method, a 
 very disadvantageous bargain, and much overpaid the labour. 
 Nor can that be called an ungenial climate which brings to per- 
 fection, not only all the fruits of the earth which this country 
 can boast, but others, which we are precluded from cultivating. 
 We need only mention the maize or Indian-corn, which would 
 be an invaluable acquisition to the British agriculturist, if our 
 ordinary summers were sufficient to ripen it, from its producing 
 on moderate soils an immense return, frequently above sixty 
 bushels per acre, of a grain particularly serviceable in feeding 
 all kinds of cattle and poultry, and furnishing several nutritious 
 and not unpalatable articles of diet for Man. 
 
 Strongly impressed with the importance of our Canadian 
 possessions, and the desirableness of having some authentic and 
 practical information respecting them as widely diffused as 
 possible, we were much gratified with the appearance of the 
 works whose titles are prefixed to this Article. 
 
 Mr. Grece's is evidently the production of a plain, sensible, 
 practical man. He has manifestly no great skill or experience 
 in authorship ; but, what is much more important, he seems to 
 possess those requisites in the subject of which he treats ; and 
 it is no slight recommendation to the greater part of his readers, 
 
214 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 and we may add, to his reviewers, that he seems altogether 
 exempt from the ambition of making a book, and conveys his 
 information briefly and plainly, with the air of a man who 
 writes, not because he wants to say something^ but because he has 
 something to say. 
 
 As a Canadian, his statement of the comparative advantages 
 of settling in his own country, and in the United States, will 
 naturally be exposed to the suspicion of partiality : but those 
 who will judge for themselves by a perusal of his book, cannot 
 fail, we think, to be impressed with an appearance of candour 
 and veracity ; and where he expresses himself the most 
 strongly, he is borne out by the testimony of unexceptionable 
 witnesses. 
 
 " And now let us pursue our comparison of these and other ad- 
 vantages of the Canadas with those which are so pompously held 
 out to settlers in the western territories of the United States. 
 
 " The difference as to distance, and the consequent expense of 
 travelling, by sea and land, have already been sufficiently noticed ; 
 as also have the relative situations of the respective markets from 
 the abodes of the growers in Canada and in the Ohio States, by 
 which it has been shewn that in a much less time than a boat can 
 pass between the Ohio country to the Orleans depot, and return, 
 might a ship make a voyage from Quebec to Europe or the West 
 Indies, and return again to the Canadian port. 
 
 " Let us suppose, however, that an emigrant has surmounted 
 the perilous and expensive voyage from Europe to the western 
 territory ; on his arrival there what a host of difficulties, expenses, 
 and inconveniences has he got to combat. 
 
 " Perhaps, with a delicate wife and a family of children, he finds 
 himself seated under a tree in the midst of a wild and trackless 
 region, where not a single human face besides those of his own 
 retinue can be seen ; not a hut or a cabin can he behold ; and the 
 alluring stories he had been told about luxuriant natural meadows, 
 called prairies, waiting only for the hand of the mower and a day's 
 sun to be converted into food for his horses and cattle, turn out to 
 have been lavished upon wide open fields of grass, towering as high 
 as the first floor window of the comfortable house he has forsaken 
 in Europe, and penetrating vnih its tough fibrous roots into the 
 earth beyond the reach of the ploughshare, requiring the operation 
 of fire ere the land can be converted to any useful purpose. 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 215 
 
 " Under a burning sun, and with but little shelter from the 
 foliage of trees, or the retreats of the forest, he has to dig wells ere 
 he can qiiench his thirst, there being no cooling and refreshing 
 springs I and although he may still hope that time will enable him 
 to surmount all his difficulties, and reconcile his complaining, per- 
 haps upbraiding, family to their isolated condition, his heart will be 
 apt to sicken within him, especially when he finds that he must 
 wander many miles in search of some one to assist him in the very 
 commencement of his operations. At length, however, that assist- 
 ance is procured; but of what species of beings does it consist? 
 — Alas I alas ! they are those very unfortunate wretches whose 
 degraded condition he has, while in Europe, learnt most humanely 
 to commiserate." — pp. G2 — 64. 
 
 There is much practical detail in Mr. Grece's book, which is 
 calculated to be of great service to emigrants ; the chief obstacle 
 to whose success appears to be either the misapplication of their 
 little capital, or the consumption of it in fruitless delays, -while 
 thej are hesitating what spot to fix on, and what measures to 
 adopt. 
 
 " Emigrants intendmg to proceed to Upper Canada take their 
 departure from Montreal to La Chine, a distance of nine miles. 
 From thence they go to Prescot in boats. 111 miles. From thence 
 there is a steam boat to Kingston, where there are other steam boats 
 proceeding to York, the capital and seat of government for the 
 Upper Province. After landing passengers, the boat proceeds to 
 Queenatown, on the Niagara frontier. Between Queenstown and 
 lake Erie there is a portage of eighteen miles. The total expense 
 from Montreal is generally considered to amount to about five 
 pounds each person. 
 
 " Those who proceed farther take carriage past the portage, to 
 avoid the Niagara falls, and embark in vessels on lake Erie for 
 Amlmrstburgh on the Detroit river. Few people, however, pro- 
 ceed that distance, except for curiosity : they generally concentrate 
 themselves near market towns, where labourers are plentiful, and 
 artificers are to be found to perform the different kinds of work that 
 may be required. There are, nevertheless, many extensive settle- 
 ments in the Erie country. 
 
 " Those persons who wish to proceed to the Ottawa river will 
 find a packet-boat at La Chine, which leaves that place every 
 Sunday morning, from May to November, for St. Andrew's and 
 
216 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 Carillion, being the foot of the rapids on that river, extending about 
 nine miles, A steam boat is expected to ply between the head of 
 these rapids and the river Rideau, the present summer, to carry- 
 goods aud passengers to the Perth and Richmond settlements, 
 where, during the summer of 1818, a road was made to commu- 
 nicate with the Ottawa. Another road has been made through 
 the townships of Chatham, Grenville, the seigniory of the Petit 
 Nation, the townships of Norfolk, Templeton, and Hull, forming 
 a regular communication by land from the above settlement to 
 Montreal and Kingston in Upper Canada. — pp. 51, 53. 
 
 " As every article of real utility, and even of luxury, can be 
 easily procured in the Canadian cities, and that too at nearly 
 as easy a rate as in London, emigrants need not expend their cash 
 in goods for sale, but preserve as much specie as possible. The 
 emigrant may, however, provide himself with such articles of 
 clothing as are suitable to the climate : viz. coarse Yorkshire cloth 
 trowsers and round jacket, a long great coat, striped cotton shirts, 
 and worsted stockings, with boots or high shoes. For the summer 
 dress he may provide Russia-duck trowsers, and smock frock. 
 He may also take out bed and bedding. Kitchen furniture may 
 or may not be taken out ; he might, however, include a few rough 
 carpenters' tools. Axes, chains, hoes, and ploughs for new land, are 
 made in Canada, better adapted to the work than can be had in any 
 part of Europe." — pp. 58 — 60. 
 
 The system of husbandry pursued in both the Canadas 
 appears to be still very defective ; a circumstance which ought 
 to be taken into account by those who estimate the quality 
 of the land from reports of the produce. We mean defective 
 in comparison of what it might and should be under actual 
 circumstances ; for we are well aware that it would be absurd 
 in the case of a new colony to draw our notions of a perfect 
 system of husbandry from what is considered such in Great 
 Britain. The ratios of the price of an acre of land in a state of 
 nature to that of a day's wages to a common labourer, in the 
 two countries, may be taken on a rough estimate, in the one 
 case, as more than two hundred to one, in the other, as some- 
 thing less than five to one; a difference which must in many 
 points occasion a material distinction in the mode of agriculture 
 which prudence would suggest in each. The want of capital 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 217 
 
 also, under which most of the colonists labour, is an insur- 
 mountable obstacle to many improvements which would answer 
 abundantly if they could be carried into effect : but there appears 
 to be also, a great deficiency of skill ; which indeed to any 
 one who considers the materials of which colonies are generally 
 composed, will by no means be matter of wonder. 
 
 Mr. Grece seems to have exerted himself very laudably, 
 and not altogether unsuccessfully, for the improvement of his 
 countrymen in this respect; his agricultural essays having 
 attracted great and deserved attention. 
 
 How much the progress of Canadian agriculture would 
 be accelerated by the diffusion of scientific knowledge, if not 
 among the whole body of the farmers, at least among their 
 leaders and instructors, may be conjectured from the following 
 extract from the appendix to Mr. Grece's work, under the head 
 " Plaster of Paris." 
 
 " This valuable manure, almost unknown, though very easy to 
 be obtained, merits the attention of every farmer ; there is scarcely 
 a farm in the Provinces but it might be applied to with advantage. 
 The practice of nine years on the following soils and crops may 
 suffice to prove its quality. On a piece of poor yellow loam, I 
 tried three grain crops without success ; with the last, which fol- 
 lowed a hoe crop, I laid it down with barley : the return was little 
 more than the seed. The grass seed took very well. In the 
 month of May the following year, I strewed powder of plaster, at 
 the rate of one minot and one peck to the arpent. In July, the 
 piece of land being mowed, the quantity of grass was so great that 
 it was not possible to find room to dry it on the land where it 
 grew. The produce was five large loads of hay to the arpent. It 
 continued good for five years. A trial was made with plaster on a 
 piece of white clay laid down with clover and timothy — the grass 
 was very thin. After the plaster was strewed, it improved so much 
 as to be distinguished from any other part of the field ; the sixth 
 year after, the field was broke up in the spring, and sowed with 
 pease : the spot where the plaster had been put produced twice as 
 much as any other part of the field. The haulm was of a deep green 
 colour, nor were they affected with the drought, like the others on 
 the part of the field where no plaster had been put. A trial was 
 made on a strong loam ; the crop, Indian corn, manured in the hills 
 
218 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 with old stable dung, lime, and plaster : the stable dung surpassed 
 the other two, the Indian corn being finest where that was applied. 
 In the spring of the following year, the field was ploughed and 
 sowed with pease ; where the plaster and lime had been the year 
 before, the pease were as strong again as in any other part of the 
 field. I tried plaster on cabbages and turnips, but did not perceive 
 any good effect. From the frequent trials of this manure on various 
 soils, it is evident that it is applicable to both strong and light soils 
 for top dressings of succulent plants. 
 
 " Method of reducing it. — Take an axe and break the stone to 
 the size of a nut ; then take a flat stone two feet in diameter, and 
 break it into powder with a wooden mallet. It must be reduced 
 very fine ; those that have an iron pestle and mortar can pound it 
 expeditiously that way. Should plaster meet its deserved attention, 
 it might give employment to people in the houses of correction to 
 reduce it to powder for the use of the farmers, when no other objects 
 of industry present themselves. 
 
 " In order to give an idea of the measure of a ton of plaster in 
 stone, it will measure three feet square on the base and two feet two 
 inches high, English measure. This is cited in order to assist 
 persons that may wish to buy from the vessels going up the river, 
 where weights cannot be had to weigh. That which is taken from 
 the mine is best, and is of a silver grey colour ; that from off the 
 surface is red, and is of less value. A ton will produce fourteen 
 minots of powder when broke ; a man can break eighty pounds in 
 one day, in a mortar of six inches diameter, in its natural state. 
 Having a great deal to prepare for the spring of 1817, 1 bad it broke 
 about the size of a goose egg, and then put into the oven of a double 
 stove; it remained about half an hour, after which a man could 
 reduce two hundred and ten ])ounds in twelve hours, with a sledge 
 hammer, pounding it on a flat stone. As this is an experiment, 
 time must determine whether the heat diminishes its quality." — 
 Facts, dc. pp. 147, 150. 
 
 A very sliglit knowledge of chemistry would have decided 
 this important question, and led the Canadian farmers at once 
 to the result which they will probably arrive at gradually by 
 experiments, viz. that heat, abstracting nothing from the sul- 
 phate of lime, except its water, cannot lessen its value as a 
 manure ; and consequently, that its comjykte calcination, which 
 renders it so friable as almost entirely to supersede the la- 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 219 
 
 borious process just described, would be the fittest preparation*. 
 To any one who considers the great value of this manure, to- 
 gether with the high price of labour, and the cheapness of fuel 
 in the newly settled districts, this single improvement will 
 appear of incalculable importance. 
 
 Captain Stuart's book is in some respects recommended by 
 the circumstance of its not being written by a Canadian. One 
 who is familiar with a different state of society is at least the 
 better qualified to convey to those similarly circumstanced 
 a clear idea of the state of a new colony ; besides that he may 
 be expected, by taking more enlarged views, to form a better 
 estimate of it. Both kinds of authority, however, have their 
 respective advantages ; and it is therefore most desirable to be 
 enabled, as in the present case, to have recourse to both. 
 
 There is much interesting information in this book ; and it 
 conveys an impression of the author's sincerity and good in- 
 tentions. Unfortunately, however, he is deeply smitten with 
 the ambition of being an eloquent writer: a character for 
 which he is so little qualified, that we cannot forbear applying 
 to him the celebrated precept which is said to have been given 
 by some austere critic to a young author ; viz. " whenever 
 he had written anything that he thought particularly fine, 
 to scratch it out." Captain Stuart has not yet attained even 
 correctness in the use of his language ; (an acquisition which 
 should precede every attempt at ornament;) and in good taste 
 he is lamentably deficient. 
 
 We refrain from giving any specimens of his unsuccessful 
 attempts at sublimity, because we think too well of the design 
 and of the probable utility of the work, to have any pleasure in 
 drawing ridicule upon it: but in case the author should have 
 any thoughts of re-casting it in a second edition, or of publishing 
 
 1 Sir n. Davy is of opinion, that this substance is essential as a component part 
 of many vegetables of the description which are usually called grass crops ; and 
 hence accounts for the extraordinary effects which in many cases it has produced. 
 
220 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 any thing further on the subject, we would beg leave to advise 
 him to omit all extraneous matter, and say what he has to say 
 on the subject in a plain way ; leaving solid arguments and 
 statements of facts to plead their own cause, without calling 
 in the aid of high-flown declamation. Let him absolutely for- 
 swear the use of notes of admiration ; and let him express his 
 religious sentiments in their proper place, boldly and strongly, 
 but undebased by the cant-language of a religious party. It 
 is, indeed, most consolatory to find a settler and promoter 
 of settlements in Canada, strongly impressed with a sense of 
 the paramount importance of religion. To a layman, and not 
 least to a military man, this is peculiarly creditable ; and we 
 fear that such a spirit is in few places more wanted : but great 
 disservice is done to the cause by those injudicious friends of it, 
 who, setting calm discretion and good taste at defiance, by 
 their manner of introducing and discussing religious topics, and 
 by the style which they employ, tend to excite disgust and 
 contempt in the less serious minds, and in those of more sober 
 reflection suspicion of themselves as enthusiasts : 
 
 " Haud illud quserentes num sine sensu, 
 
 Tempore num faciant alieno." — 
 
 We must in justice however assure our readers, that they 
 will find Captain Stuart, in every thing that relates to Canadian 
 afiairs, deserving of much greater confidence. Many of his re- 
 marks are just and important ; and in his statements of facts we 
 have had the good fortune to possess most satisfactory means of 
 verifying his accuracy. On the whole, there is more good sense 
 and candour in his work than one would at first sight expect to 
 find. 
 
 On the subject of the deeded lands, (a most important one,) 
 Captain Stuart has a passage which is very much to the purpose : 
 
 " The province, originally an immense wilderness, yet possessed 
 of a soil and climate which promised everything, presented attrac- 
 tions to its first visitors which naturally produced a corresponding 
 effect. They (as other men would have been) were at once desirous 
 of appropriating to themselves the most fertile tracts, and of avoiding 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 221 
 
 the trouble and expense of rendering them productive. They 
 necessarily foresaw that in the course of years the country would be 
 peopled; that as population increased, the fertile tracts, in this 
 manner secured, would be enhanced in value ; and that thus at length 
 an important property would be obtained for their posterity without 
 any exertion or care of their own. They probably foresaw not the 
 evils necessarily resulting from such property so abandoned to na- 
 ture. Let every man, before he condemns others for this conduct, 
 lay his hand upon his heart, and ask himself, if, under such circum- 
 stances, he woxdd not have done the same. There doubtlessly may 
 be men who woiild not have done so ; but, for my part, though I 
 now irresistibly perceive its pernicious consequences, and lament 
 them, and earnestly desire, as far as may be consistent with justice, 
 to have them rectified ; yet I have no hesitation in acknowledging, 
 that in every probability such would have been my own conduct ; 
 and I blush thus to find in myself, amidst a thousand others, this 
 new corroboration of the darkness and guilt of my nature. 
 
 " Under this influence, however, blind, and selfish, and base as 
 it is, immense tracts of some of the finest lands in the province 
 have been secured by possessors, who either no longer form even a 
 nominal part of its population, or who, dwelling amidst its plains, 
 revel in anticipation upon the benefits which their sloth shall derive 
 from the labours of others. Having obtained the grant, they are 
 gone whither their more immediate interests or affections have led 
 them (as others would have done), leaving their possessions here to 
 improve in value by the toils and exertions of others ; to whom, as 
 far as depends upon them, they yield not only no reciprocation of 
 benefit, but produce even a most positive and glaring disadvantage ; 
 or they reside in the province, keeping back their fertile possessions 
 from more industrious hands, and leaving them in the wildness of 
 nature, to become eventually valuable by that very industry which 
 they counteract and chill. 
 
 " Thus wherever you go, wastes of deeded land, sometimes the " 
 reward of merit or of service, as often the fruit of falsehood and 
 intrigue, glare in your face, and withstand you imder the mighty 
 barrier of law, which protects them, while, with all the stupidity 
 and sordidness of the dog in the manger, they abuse it." — p. 176 — 
 179. 
 
 To illustrate more strongly what the author has here said, 
 ■we will mention a fact which has come to our knowledge re- 
 specting the settlement of Perth, first inserting his description 
 of that settlement : 
 
222 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 " Struck by events of the last war with the risks incident to the 
 navigation of the head of St. Lawrence, in case of contest with the 
 United States, it became an anxious object with the government to 
 provide for tlie public service another route more sheltered from those 
 risks ; and the result of the research produced by this desire was the 
 choice of Perth, as an original port, for the prosecution of the woj-k. 
 
 " At the distance of about forty miles from Brockville, the 
 nearest and most favourable frontier to it, and far out of the route 
 of common observation, this place would probably have slumbered 
 unknown, beneath the retired wildness of its native forests for 
 another half century, had not this circumstance called it forth; and 
 its remoteness, even when thus produced, required for it a fostering 
 hand to support what had been founded. The assistance of govern- 
 ment was liberally advanced ; a fine soil, with a salubrious climate, 
 corroborated the effort ; the unusual impulse produced a correspond- 
 ing effect ; and Perth, though commenced but the other day (that is, 
 about four years ago), alreaily assumes the appearance of a flour- 
 ishing colony. The extension of the settlement is continuing both 
 towards Kingston and the Ottawas ; and the spirit which planned 
 and supports it sees this great object of public utility apparently 
 approaching to a favourable conclusion." — pp. 42, 43. 
 
 Now it was originally intended that Perth should be fixed 
 on the River Rideau, (not Radeau, as Capt. Stuart calls it,) hut 
 this was found impracticable, from the government-lands not 
 extending far enough in the requisite direction, but being in- 
 terrupted by a tract of land (left in a state of nature and waiting 
 to become valuable) which had been granted to the heirs of 
 General Arnold ; in the rear of which tract (on the banks of a 
 comparatively insignificant stream) the settlement was ultimately 
 placed, and through which a road was necessarily cut, to open a 
 communication with the rest of the province, at a heavy public 
 expense, and to the incalculable profit of the owners of that grant. 
 
 The subject of the government and clergy-reserves also 
 deserves consideration in many points of view. The obstacle to 
 improvement which they present, is the same with that of the pri- 
 vate grants above noticed, and ought, if possible, to be removed- 
 
 But a more serious and urgent evil is the inadequate pre- 
 sent provision for the clergy. We are far from agreeing with 
 Captain Stuart in his apprehensions of evil hereafter, from a 
 liKprnl independent provision for the clergy ; or, in his " indifier- 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 223 
 
 ence as to the denomination of protestanfs" on -whicli the support 
 of government should be bestowedi, but we heartily sympathise 
 in his dissatisfaction at the spiritual state of Canada in the mean 
 time. It matters little that we have a prospect at some remote 
 period of having a numerous and well-supported clergy in the 
 province, if its present inhabitants are suffered to remain in a 
 state of heathenism ; for, besides that they have souls to be saved 
 as well as their posterity, what chance of success will the clergy 
 have who are appointed to superintend parishes in which religion 
 shall have been for a long time wholly unthought of? — in which 
 several generations, reckoning back to the present time, (we speak 
 advisedly,) shall have successively grown up ivithout baptism ? 
 We do not impute blame to any particular parties ; but it is 
 quite clear that, if this state of things be suffered to go on 
 without redress in a part of an empire calling itself christian, 
 a heavy responsibility must attach somewhere. — If we slumber, 
 we must expect that anabaptists, methodists, and sectaries of 
 all descriptions from the United States, who are already making 
 great progress in Canada, will completely supplant the church. 
 Their exertions cannot be blamed, since they are, in many 
 instances at least, not sowing divisions among Christians, but 
 making Christians ; nor is their success even to be deprecated, 
 unless we exert ourselves, since any form of Christianity is 
 better than none. 
 
 " There are at present in Upper Canada twelve or fifteen clergy- 
 men of the established church, and not quite so many churches. 
 These are supported partly by the government and partly by the 
 Society for propagating the Gospel. I need not add (stationary as 
 they are, or at least confined to narrow circuits,) how totally insuffi- 
 cient such a provision must be for the spiritual wants of a secluded 
 population, scattered over a frontier of nearly one thousand miles. 
 To the mass of the people it is almost as nothing. 
 
 " Yet the province has not been left entirely thus destitute. The 
 spirit of the establishment seems improving; and the Baptists, 
 
 ' This indiflFerence does not extend to' the Roman Catholics; so that we presume 
 he believes that there is a Itind of charm in the name of Protestant, which secures 
 those who bear it from all essential errors. 
 
224 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 Methodists, and Presbyterians, have concurred in keeping alive in 
 it the worship of God. Of these, the most active and the most 
 successful are the Methodists." — pp. Ill, 112. 
 
 We have good grounds for believing that Captain Stuart's 
 opinion of the American methodists is far too favourable : they 
 are for the most part gross and ignorant enthusiasts, and actuated 
 by a spirit of bitter hostility against the English methodists, who 
 are a far more respectable body of men. The existence of a 
 national jealousy, so strong as thus to prevail over religious 
 agreement, is well worthy of attention, as it may hereafter lead 
 to important consequences. 
 
 But, whatever may be the character of the sectaries, it ia 
 surely incumbent on those who, as individuals, profess themselves 
 members of the Church of England, and, as a community, 
 acknowledge that church as an ally of the State, and a part of 
 the constitution, to provide for the instruction of their fellow- 
 subjects in its principles. 
 
 Among the measures which appear to be called for, with a 
 view to this object, one of the most obvious seems to be, the 
 appointment of an archdeacon, or some other functionary, to 
 exercise, in the Upper Province, (unless indeed it were con- 
 stituted a distinct See,) those ecclesiastical duties which cannot 
 possibly be adequately performed in person by the Bishop of 
 Quebec. It would, in fact, be an oflBce of no small labour, to 
 afford the requisite superintendence to the affairs of Upper 
 Canada ; such is the extent of territory, the difSculty of travel- 
 ling, and the number of new demands continually arising for 
 pastors and for places of worship. 
 
 Mr. Strachan's book is by far the most interesting that we 
 have seen on the subject ; and we strongly recommend it to 
 those of our readers who wish for full information respecting 
 Upper Canada, compressed into a very moderate compass, and 
 conveyed in an unpretending and yet agreeable form. The 
 author presents us with his own first impressions as a stranger, 
 together with the accurate local knowledge obtained from his 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 225 
 
 brother, a settler of long standing, who has access to the best 
 sources of information : and accordingly he appears to have 
 fully made good the profession of his preface, " that almost 
 every thing which an emigrant going to Upper Canada wishes 
 to know, will be found in his small volume." 
 
 His account of the state of religion in the province (a sub- 
 ject which he treats of like a sincere, but sober-minded Chris- 
 tian) is such as fully to bear out the remarks which we have 
 already made: it is such as ought to encourage, but not to 
 satisfy us. The baptism of some adults by his brother, at a 
 chapel which was indebted for its existence to his exertions, is 
 well described : the fact which he subjoins may create surprise 
 in the minds of some of our readers, and is certainly well 
 worthy of attention. " On our return home," he says, " I in- 
 quired of my brother whether such occurrences frequently hap- 
 pened." " Since the building of this church," he replied, " I 
 have baptized nearly 400 persons, half cf them grown up.'''' 
 
 Mr. Strachan gives a very interesting account of a conver- 
 sation at which he was present, between two American citizens 
 on the subject of their grand canal : (of which a detailed de- 
 scription may be seen in the Appendix to Mr. Grece's Book, 
 No. 1, p. 81,) one of them he represents as appearing by no 
 means convinced of the commercial advantages which others 
 anticipated from the scheme : 
 
 " It is so easy, (turning to us,) gentlemen, to improve the navi- 
 gation of the St. Lawrence, that all our efforts to divert the trade 
 ■will prove in vain. And it is well that it should be so ; for the 
 produce of the vast countries which surround us will be enough for 
 both. It is not as an instrument of commerce that I admire the 
 canal which we are digging, but as an emblem of peace. Had we 
 not despaired of conquering the Canadas, the hope of which pro- 
 duced the late war, this great work had never been commenced." — 
 p. 107. 
 
 The information which the author subjoins respecting the 
 proposed improvements in the inland navigation of Canada, is 
 the more valuable from the circumstance of his brother being, 
 
 W. E. Q 
 
226 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 if we are not misinformed, the person to whom the province is 
 principally indebted for the suggestion of the plan. 
 
 " Ships can come i;p to Montreal ; but here dangerous rapids 
 commence, and continue nine miles. The canal, to avoid them, 
 may require a length of ten miles ; and is now beginning under an 
 incorporated coraimny. It is to pass behind Montreal, and have 
 a lateral cut from the St. Lawrence, at the entrance of the town. 
 The ground is easy of excavation, and the supply of water inex- 
 haustible : in two or three years it will be open for transport. The 
 ■whole expense is not expected to exceed £80,000 ; and such is 
 the trade that must pass through it, that the stock-holders will, in 
 two or three years after it is in operation, share their maximum, or 
 15 per cent. 
 
 " Lake Ontario is reckoned 200 feet above the St. Lawrence at 
 Montreal, which may be divided into three unequal parts. From 
 the head of the St. Lawrence, where' it leaves the Lake, to the 
 Rapid Plat, a distance of ninety miles, there is not more than 
 forty feet fall ; from the Rapid Plat to Lake St. Francis, a distance 
 of forty miles, there is a fall of fifty-five ; the next twenty-six 
 miles, called Lake St. Francis, show some current, and may give 
 a declivity of six feet. From tlie Coteau du Lac to Lake St. 
 Lewis, nearly twenty-two miles, the fall may be estimated at fifty- 
 Beven feet; and the Lachine Rapids forty-two feet, in a distance 
 of twelve miles. It is obvious tbat much of conjecture enters into 
 this calculation ; but it will not be found very wide of the truth. 
 
 " To allow sloops and steam-boats to go from Montreal to Lake 
 St. Francis, two canals are necessary of about equal difficulty— the 
 Lachine canal just begun, and the Cedar canal of much the same 
 length. This canal commences near tbe junction of the Ottawa, or 
 Grand River, and the St. Lawrence, and enters Lake St. Francis 
 near the east end. The estimated expense £75,000; so that 
 £155,000 would cure all the defects of the St. Lawrence within 
 the limits of Lower Canada. The impediments in Upper Canada 
 are less considerable ; it is not thought a greater sum than £60,000 
 •would be necessary to remove every impediment. But the pro- 
 vincial revenue is too limited at present to admit the disbursement 
 of this sum, small as it is, and great as the advantages must be to 
 the colony. The House of Assemhly, in conjunction with the 
 legislative council, sensible of these advantages and their present 
 inability, have petitioned his Royal Highness the Prince Regent, 
 through his excellency Sir Peregrine Maitland, for a grant of 
 100,000 acres of land, to assist in such improvements; and as the 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 227 
 
 request goes home favoured by his excellency, there is little doubt 
 of its being favourably received 
 
 " Now this quantity of land, if located in a favourable situation, 
 will sell for two and a half dollars per acre ; that is, £G2,500 for 
 the whole, or £2500 beyond our estimate of the necessary improve- 
 ments. But should the sum wanted exceed this ten or twelve 
 thousand pounds, no impediment would arise, for the legislature 
 would very willingly provide for this contingency. 
 
 " Having thus, at a small expense, opened a direct communi- 
 cation between Niagara and the ocean, the next great object is the 
 junction of the two Lakes Erie and Ontario, which may be more 
 easily effected than is commonly supposed. There are several parts 
 of the Chippawa where it is navigable for vessels of any reasonable 
 size within fifteen miles of Lake Ontario. For thirty miles the 
 Chippawa resembles a canal: the current almost imperceptible, and 
 very little affected by rains; the channel deep and without ob- 
 struction. A canal of fourteen miles would reach to the head of 
 the mountain, close on Lake Ontario, in several places ; four locks 
 would be sufficient in this distance. — The height of the hill within 
 a distance of two miles of Lake Ontario is 250 feet, requiring 
 upwards of thirty locks, all very near one another. The great 
 expense of so many locks, and the time lost in passing and 
 repassing them, seem to point out a rail-way as more advantageous. 
 The basin at the end of the canal should be formed at some distance 
 from the top of the hill, making the rail-way, with its windings, 
 about four miles before it reached the wharfs on Lake Ontario. 
 The distribution of the height of 250 feet would hardly be per- 
 ceptible in this distance. The canal, fourteen miles long, will cost 
 £40,000 ; and the rail-way, four miles, £10,000 ; and £10,000 for 
 stores and wharfs — forming an aggregate of £60,000 for joining 
 the two Lakes. 
 
 " After passing into Lake Erie, to which there is no difficidty, 
 from the mouth of the Chippawa, except a mile of rapid water at 
 Black Rock, the navigation is open through Lakes Sinclair, Huron, 
 and Michigan ; and a trifling expense at the Strait of St. Mary 
 wiU enable vessels to proceed into Lake Superior. 
 
 " There is one other improvement connected Avith this line which 
 I consider of great importance to a large and wealthy section of 
 the province, namely, a communication between the Grand River 
 and Chippawa. The Grand River is navigable for boats to a great 
 distance from its mouth. It abounds in mill seats of the best 
 description, capable of turning any machinery whatever; and the 
 country through which it runs is of the first quality, and must in 
 
 Q 3 
 
228 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 a short time become rich in the production of gi'ain. It would, there- 
 fore, be of infinite advantage to possess a water communication to Lake 
 Ontario, which may he effected by a canal of five miles in length ; for 
 so near do the Grand River and Cliippnwa approach to one another. 
 This would complete the main line of internal navigation, and bring 
 the greater part of the province close to the ocean. "VYhat is peculiarly 
 encouraging, there is no expense to be incurred which can be con- 
 sidered beyond our reach. The communication between the two 
 lakes will not be required for a few years, as the surplus produce 
 for some time will find an immediate market among the new 
 settlers, who are flocking in great numbers to the London and 
 Western districts; and before that period elapses the provincial 
 treasury will enable the legislature to appropriate, without any 
 difficulty, a sum sufficient to pay the interest of the capital laid out 
 in making the canals, rail-»vays, &c." — pp. 108 — 112. 
 
 Of the whole process by which lands are cleared, settled, and 
 improved, Mr. Strachan gives, in an unaffected stjle, the most 
 distinct and graphic descriptions we have met with in any of 
 the numerous publications on the subject : and his book may, 
 on the whole, be safely recommended as the best calculated, not 
 only to amuse the curious, but also to afford to those who have 
 thoughts of emigrating, clear notions (which in such a case is 
 a matter somewhat diiScult as well as important) of the very 
 novel state of things they have to expect. 
 
 We cannot dismiss the subject without noticing a little more 
 fully than we have yet done some prevailing objections both 
 against emigration in general and emigration in the direction of 
 Canada in particular; and we shall be enabled to point out, 
 as we proceed, the nature of the advantages it promises. 
 
 It is objected, in the first place, that all hopes of counter- 
 acting by emigration the evils of a redundant population must 
 be utterly illusory ; since the necessary expense of the voyage 
 and outfit would place the remedy beyond the reach of those 
 very persons for whose benefit it is proposed. Mr. Malthus, 
 therefore, concludes, from his review of the history of several 
 settlements, " that the reason why the resource of emigration 
 has so long continued to be held out as a remedy to redun- 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 229 
 
 dant population is, because, from the natural unwillingness of 
 people to desert their native country, and the difficulty of 
 clearing and cultivating fresh soil, it never is, nor can be, 
 adequately adopted." — B. iii. c. iv. p. 301, 8vo. 
 
 And, accordingly, -vvhen it is proposed to afford, either at 
 the expense of government, or from charitable contributions, 
 such assistance to persons willing to emigrate as may enable 
 them to surmount the obstacles opposed to them, it is not 
 unfrequently answered that their maintenance at home would 
 be less expensive : Avhile on the other hand it is urged that 
 those who have such a capital as to enable them to emigrate 
 with advantage, though it would be most unjust to prohibit 
 them from taking that step, yet ought by no means to be 
 encouraged in it, because the capital which they withdraw is 
 so much loss to the mother-country. These objections, how- 
 ever, though undoubtedly sound and weighty under certain 
 modifications, will not bear to be pushed to the utmost extreme; 
 and no one has been more ready to admit this than the 
 candid and able writer already cited. Jn a passage almoat 
 immediately following the one we have given, he says, " it is 
 clear, therefore, that with any view of making room for an 
 unrestricted increase of population, emigration is perfectly in- 
 adequate ; but as a partial and temporary expedient, and with 
 a view to the more general cultivation of the earth, and the 
 wider extension of civilization, it seems to be both useful and 
 proper." And in the supplement to his great work, which 
 was published in 1817, he expresses himself strongly as to the 
 occasional expediency of emigration : 
 
 '■ If, from a combination of external and internal causes, a very 
 great stimulus should be given to the population of a country for 
 ten or twelve years together, and it should then comparatively 
 cease, it is clear that labour will continue flowing into the market, 
 with almost undiminished rajtidity, while the means of employing 
 and paying it have been essentially contracted. It is precisely 
 under these circumstances that emigration is most useful as a 
 temporary relief ; and it is in these circumstances that Great 
 Britain finds herself placed at present. Though no emigration 
 
230 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 should take place, the population will by degrees conform itself to 
 the state of the demand for labour; but the interval must be 
 marked by the most severe distress, the amount of which can 
 scarcely be reduced by any human efforts; because, though it may 
 be mitigated at particular periods, and as it affects particular 
 classes, it will be proportionably extended over a larger space of 
 time and a greater number of people. The only real relief in such a 
 case is emigration; and the subject at the present moment is well 
 worthy the attention of the government, both as a matter of 
 humanity and policy." — On Population, vol. ii. pp. 304, 305. 
 
 In fact, the expediency of resorting to emigration for the relief 
 of a distressed population must always depend on a variety of 
 circumstances, which are to be distinctly considered in each parti- 
 cular case. But it should not be forgotten that there are cases 
 in which that mode of relief might be suggested by the wisest 
 economy, even when the immediate support of the individuals in 
 question might cost less at home : if, at a somewhat heavier 
 expense, we have a fair prospect of getting rid of a permanent, 
 and perhaps (as in the case of an increasing family) a growing 
 burden ; — if we can, by such an expedient, not only provide for 
 the individuals in question, but benefit others of the same 
 class, by lessening the injurious competition in an overstocked 
 market of labourers, — we may attain advantages which would 
 have entirely escaped the view of a more short-sighted calculator. 
 
 As for the apprehensions of impoverishment to this country 
 by the transfer of her capital to the other side of the Atlantic, 
 we are convinced that they are altogether visionary. In the 
 first place, we may be sure that whatever inducements we may 
 hold out, few, after all, will be found willing to carry their 
 capital to Canada, who have a reasonable assurance of deriving 
 from it the means of living in independence and prosperity at 
 home ; and those who have ml such a prospect, are probably 
 consulting the interest of their country, as well as their own, 
 by emigrating. A man, who in the vigour of life, may have 
 acquired a little capital of £200 or £300, may feel, under 
 many circumstances, a very reasonable doubt whether he shall 
 be enabled so to provide for the wants of a numerous family 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 231 
 
 and for the infirmities of old age, as to be secure against 
 becoming dependent, for his children or himself, on parochial 
 relief or private charity. Surely, in this case, his emigration 
 to a country where such a capital, with common prudence and 
 industry, will ensure an independent competence to himself, 
 and comparative affluence to his posterity, is rather a relief, 
 than a loss to his own. 
 
 In the second place, since, whatever opinion may he enter- 
 tained respecting this loss of capital, it is quite certain that men 
 luill transfer it from one country, or one employment, to another, 
 when they find their advantage in so doing, it should be the ob- 
 ject of the politician to iiirect that stream which it would not be 
 possible, even were it desirable, to dam up. We would be the 
 last to encourage an illiberal jealousy of the United States, or 
 grudge them the advantages they may derive from this country; 
 but it is not going too far to feel a preference, at least, for our owu 
 colonies ; — to wish that they should receive that accession of num- 
 bers and of capital from English emigration, which has hitherto, 
 in a majority of instances, been intercepted by a foreign power. 
 
 Lastly, it should be remembered that a commercial country, 
 like this, should not consider all the capital carried out of it as 
 so much loss : the market for our commodities, which is afforded 
 by a flourishing and increasing colony, is a source of wealth to 
 the mother-country far exceeding probably what would have 
 been produced by the amount of the capital bestowed on it, if 
 retained at home. It is speaking, we are persuaded, far within 
 compass, to say that for every £1000 carried out to Upper 
 Canada, 500 acres of fertile land, which would otherwise have 
 remained an unprofitable desert, will have been within twenty 
 years brought under cultivation. Let any one calculate the 
 supplies of corn and other produce which these 500 acres will 
 a9"ord us, and the demand for our various manufactures which 
 they will create in return. Mr. Malthus speaks indeed of the 
 impolicy of " founding a great empire for the sole purpose of 
 raising up a people of customers ;" but neither the means nor 
 the end to which his remarks apply are the same as those now 
 
232 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 under consideration. It is not proposed to lay out the national 
 capital in founding a colony at the public expense ; but merely 
 to encourage and facilitate the enterprize of those individuals 
 who are willing so to employ their own capital. It is impossible 
 indeed to contemplate attentively the present state of the con- 
 tinent — the extx-eme jealousy of this country which prevails in 
 most parts of it — the zeal for improving their own manufactures, 
 — together with the superior cheapness of labour, — without 
 anticipating, as at least probable, a great and progressive 
 diminution of that enormous demand which has hitherto existed 
 in Europe for the productions of British enterprize and skill. 
 With such an expectation before us, nothing can be more con- 
 solatoz'y than the prospect of that boundless market for our 
 commodities which seems to be opening in the new world, from 
 which the other nations of Europe, even should they hereafter 
 become our rivals there, can never hope to exclude us. In 
 this point of view, the revolution in Spanish America is likely 
 to' prove of incalculable importance to us : but our own colonies 
 are on many accounts calculated to offer greater advantages to 
 our commerce than those of any other country ; our own coun- 
 trymen possess in a peculiar degree, and are likely to transmit 
 to their descendants, both a taste for that description of luxuries 
 which commerce and manufactures furnish, and a persevering 
 industry in acquiring the means of commanding them: not to 
 mention the preference generated by habit, for such articles in 
 particular as are most in use in the mother-country. 
 
 There are many, however, who, though friendly to emigra- 
 tion in general, entertain certain objections to our North Ameri- 
 can colonies in particular. One of these, the supposed " barren 
 soil and ungenial climate," we have already noticed ; but there 
 is another, which is not unfrequently acknowledged, and prob- 
 ably still more frequently felt, viz. a conviction that Canada 
 must at no distant period fall into the hands of the United 
 States, and that consequently while we are aiding to colonize 
 and improve it, we are in eflfect labouring for the advantage of a 
 formidable rival. 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA, 
 
 233 
 
 Now, without professing to " look into the womb of time " 
 quite so far as some transatlantic politicians, we cannot forbear 
 suggesting a doubt whether the probability here supposed is al- 
 together well established. We suspect that the confident boasts 
 of some American writers on this subject have produced an un- 
 due effect, not only on their own countrymen, but on ours. Let 
 it not be forgotten how fully and how arrogantly they anticipated 
 the conquest of Canada at the commencement of the late Ameri- 
 can war. The parent State was indeed at that time under cir- 
 cumstances of peculiar difficulty ; exhausted by the length, and 
 embarrassed by the continuance, of a most desperate struggle iu 
 Europe. Yet the Canadians, amidst all these disadvantages, 
 amidst the imbecility and despondency of their own commander, 
 made good the defence of their country against all the efforts 
 of the Americans. They appear indeed to come short of no 
 British subjects throughout the world in devoted attachment to 
 our government, and (what to them is a necessary part of that 
 attachment) in a rooted aversion to that of the United States. 
 
 But it is urged, that though the Americans were not able to 
 subdue Canada quite so early as they expected, their power is 
 increasing so rapidly that they must ultimately accomplish it. 
 Now to any one who examines the map, it will be plain that the 
 resources of Canada, in improvable territory, are practically in- 
 exhaustible, no less than those of the United States. Why then, 
 we would ask, if a proper use is made of these advantages, should 
 not Canada, we do not say overtake the United States, but at 
 least preserve the same comparative strength which she has at 
 present? If in her infancy she has strangled the smaller ser- 
 pents that assailed her, why may she not, in maturer strength, 
 successfully encounter the Hydra ? 
 
 In fact, however, such are the circumstances of aggressive 
 war, that its success or failure does not depend entirely on the 
 relative, but partly also on the absolute, strength of the parties 
 engaged ; and the greater this is, the less is the advantage of 
 the assailant: 10,000 men can make a far better defence 
 against 50,000 invaders, than 10 could against 50 ; and if the 
 
234 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 "wealth and population of Canada and the United States were 
 each increased exactly tenfold, the former would be in much less 
 danger of subjugation than at present. We have not, in this 
 view of the subject, adverted at all to the probability of a sepa- 
 ration of the United States ; which it would pei'haps be rash, 
 confidently to foretell, but which those who speculate so freely 
 on future contingencies ought certainly to take into their 
 account. Nor have we taken any notice of the superior ad- 
 vantages possessed by Canada in many points, especially its 
 greater facilities of inland navigation, and the salubrity of its 
 climate. 
 
 Nevertheless we are far from maintaining that Canada is 
 certain of being a part of the British empire to the end of time, 
 or even for the next three or four centuries : but what worldly 
 events are certain, or what possessions eternal ? Our empire in 
 India has been long since described as precarious ; but the cer- 
 tainty of its downfall, and the precise limits of its duration, have 
 not yet been made sufficiently clear by any of our political seers, 
 to occasion the removal of that immense capital whose security 
 depends on its continuance. The events which have taken place 
 in Europe, during the last thirty years, have so baffled all cal- 
 culations, that we are hardly authorized to call any political 
 change impossible. It is unreasonable, therefore, to depre- 
 ciate our Canadian possessions on the ground of an uncertain 
 tenure, unless it can be shown that they are exposed to very 
 peculiar and imminent danger : and this we profess our inability 
 to perceive, at least to any thing like the degree in which some 
 seem to apprehend it. There is no doubt, however, that pro- 
 phecies frequently cause their own fulfilment : the patient hardly 
 stands a fair chance for his life, if he is left to the care of a 
 physician who is convinced that he cannot possibly recover; and 
 if our government were unfortunately to act with respect to 
 Canada, under the conviction that it must inevitably in a few 
 years be wrested from us, the event would probably confirm their 
 expectations. If no means of education were provided either in 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 235 
 
 England or in Canada, so that those intended for the church', 
 and all others who were desirous of education, should resort for 
 it (as is too generally the case at present) to the colleges of the 
 United States, from which students return deeply imbued with 
 prejudices against our constitution both in church and state, — 
 if no impediment were offered to the retention of large tracts of 
 land in the hands of those who will not improve them, but wait 
 for their increasing in value by the labours of others, — if no 
 measures were taken for facilitating inland navigation, — if, in 
 short, a general neglect of the interests of the colony prevailed, 
 and abuse and mismanagement were allowed to creep into all de- 
 partments of the government, — then indeed it is probable that 
 the Canadians would not long have either the power or the in- 
 clination to maintain their connection with this country. And 
 yet, since no one will suspect that Great Britain would resign 
 the possession of the colony without a blow, we should still have 
 to look forward to a contest for it with the United States more 
 expensive in blood and treasure than any former one. 
 
 Such, indeed, as the Canadians have shown themselves in 
 the late contest, it would be a degradation of the British charac- 
 ter to abandon or to neglect them : but every motive of policy, 
 as well as of honour, concurs in recommending that Canada 
 should, with the utmost diligence, be cherished and fortified. 
 Should a line of conduct be adopted in all respects opposite to 
 
 ' A scheme was proposed, not long 
 since, of establishing four or five exhi- 
 bitions of about two hundred pounds 
 each, for the education, at one of the 
 English Universities, of native Canadians 
 designed for the church. Such persons 
 would be in many respects better quali- 
 fied for the ministry in that province 
 than natives of this country ; (not to 
 mention the difficulty of finding respect- 
 able persons willing to emigrate in that 
 capacity ;) and they would have a better 
 and aafer education than they now get 
 in the United States, to which they are 
 
 principally driven by the want of means 
 to bear the expense of education in Eng- 
 land. The amount of the proposed ex- 
 hibitions is too trifling to deserve a 
 moment's hesitation, when compared 
 with the sum total of what Canada costs 
 us, and with the greatness of the pro- 
 posed benefit. We are aware that it is 
 in contemplation to establish a college 
 in Canada : and this may be a ground 
 for withholding the exhibitions when the 
 college shall be in full activity ; but a 
 merely contemplated college educates no 
 one. 
 
236 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 that which has been above sketched out as tending to its decay, 
 we see no reason to doubt that the result would be altogether 
 opposite likewise : and where else shall we find so strong a bar- 
 rier to the boundless increase of that power which threatens to 
 prove the most formidable rival that Great Britain has ever en- 
 countered ? 
 
 Let any one but carefully inspect the map, and he will see 
 that Canada is, as it were, the bridle of the United States; while 
 at the same time it is the less likely ever to throw off its allegi- 
 ance to this country, from the apprehensions which it recipro- 
 cally entertains of its powerful neighbour. We are far from 
 sanctioning the policy of those who make the fear of remote 
 danger a plea for immediate warfare, or for hostile precautions ; 
 but such measures cannot surely be censured as tend at once 
 both to diminish the probability of a contest, and to strengthen 
 us in the event of its occurrence ; both which elFects, as we have 
 endeavoured to show, would result from a timely attention to 
 our Canadian possessions. The requisite measures to be adopted 
 for advancing the prosperity of the colony, and for deriving from 
 it the advantages it offers both to the State and to individuals, 
 are many and various ; some of them fall entirely within the 
 province of government ; others depend principally on indi- 
 viduals : we .have already noticed several in the course of this 
 Article, and many more will be suggested by a perusal of the 
 works reviewed. But if we were asked what is the principal 
 thing wanted, we should reply, (as Demosthenes did, concerning 
 action in oratory,) that the first, second, and third requisite is 
 Information. Information as to where Canada is situated, and 
 how it is to be reached : — information as to the capital required, 
 — the articles to be provided, — the spot to be fixed on for set- 
 tling ; — and, in short, as to every step to be taken. With a view, 
 principally, to this object, societies have lately been established 
 in different parts of Canada, which have also raised liberal sub- 
 scriptions for the relief of those multitudes of our countrymen 
 who, from having emigrated without knowledge of the means of 
 procuring subsistence, or from having wasted their little store in 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 237 
 
 idle schemes, have been reduced to utter destitution'. A society 
 is also, we understand, just established in London, whose object 
 is to correspond with, and further the views of those in Canada. 
 We heartily wish success to their benevolent exertions; ani 
 with a view to this object, beseech them not to attempt too much 
 at the commencement. Let them content themselves in the first 
 instance with communicating information, by handbills and 
 pamphlets, and opening offices at the ports whence the greatest 
 number of embarkations take place, at which the applicants 
 might receive such instructions as would secure them from being 
 gi-ossly imposed upon with respect to their passage, or at least 
 from being left at New Brunswick instead of Quebec. After- 
 wards it might be thought desirable to make some little addition 
 to the store of those who bore a good character, as likely to 
 prove industrious and useful settlers, and who had collected 
 nearly enough of their own to defray then* expenses, but needed 
 some small additional aid. 
 
 It has been proposed, we understand, to form a company for 
 the purchase of lands in Canada, on a plan which promises 
 greatly to promote its colonization, and which it is supposed 
 might be carried into effect, not only without ultimately diminish- 
 ing the funds employed, but so as to aflFord a reasonable prospect 
 of considerable profit. Any such scheme, if only so far success- 
 ful as to cover expenses, would have this decided advantage, 
 that its beneficial operation might continue indefinitely ; whereas 
 mere charitable contributions are continually tending to exhaust 
 their source. The proposed plan is said to have for its object 
 the accommodation of those who are competent to the manage- 
 ment of a Canadian farm, but have not the means of defraying 
 the expense of the voyage and outfit : persons so situated would 
 in general accept with eagerness the offer of having these 
 previous expenses (including the stock, provisions, &c. requisite 
 to enable them to begin farming) advanced to them, on condi- 
 
 1 We are assured, on the best authority, that not less than thirteen thousand 
 emigrants arrived in the course of the last season at Quebec. 
 
238 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 tion of occupying as tenants a portion of uncleared land, from 
 100 to 200 acres, for a term of years (say 21) at a very low 
 rent, such as would return on the average about one per cent, 
 on the cost of the land and stock advanced ; and of receiving, 
 at the end of that term, provided they then replaced the stock 
 originally advanced, one-third or a half of the land as freehold 
 property. It has been calculated, that from the immense 
 increase in value of land brought into cultivation, the portion 
 remaining to the proprietor, would, together with the stock 
 replaced, be worth two or three times as much as the capital 
 originally advanced. The success of any such scheme as this 
 must evidently depend on the obtaining of proper agents resi- 
 dent on the spot. The task of such an agent indeed would not 
 require either great labour or remarkable ability ; but vigilant 
 attention, and perfect integrity, would be indispensable. We 
 earnestly hope, however, that no schemes of this nature will be 
 permitted to interfere with that which ought to be the primary 
 object — the diffusion of information. 
 
 The subjoined estimate of expenses, drawn up by a person of 
 undoubted knowledge and judgment, is well calculated to further 
 this object, and may be interesting to such of our readers as 
 may not have chanced to meet with it : 
 
 " 1. Ships sail for Quebec from London, Liverpool, Hull, Glas- 
 gow, and Cork ; the passage (usually about six weeks or two months) 
 costs from £7 to £12 per head, passengers finding their own pro- 
 visions. 
 
 " 2. Emigrants will do well to take out with them (besides 
 clothes) bedding, handsaws, hammers, chisels and planes. All other 
 tools, furniture, &c. they can procure in the country itself. 
 
 " 3. If they mean to settle in the Upper Canada, (which is far 
 preferable, as the climate is much milder, and the language and 
 society are English,) they will proceed from Quebec to Montreal 
 (180 miles) by steam-boat; from Montreal to Kingston (180 
 miles) partly by open boats and partly by steam-boats : from 
 Kingston there is a steam-boat to the head of Lake Ontario. On 
 their route they will find different Emigrant Societies, which will 
 furnish them with any information they may require respecting 
 obtaining grants of land, &c. 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 239 
 
 " 4. The following may be given as a rough Estimate of the 
 
 necessary expenses of emigration, in the case of a married man, with 
 four children : — 
 
 £ s. d. 
 
 Travelling expenses, (including both the passage by 
 
 sea and on the river, together with provisions,) say 70 0 0 
 
 Materials and labour for erecting a log -house . 16 10 0 
 Fees paid on receiving a grant of land, (usually 
 
 100 acres) 5 0 0 
 
 For a cow, tools, &c 10 0 0 
 
 Subsistence for one year. — N.B. Provisions are 
 
 cheaper than in England 40 0 0 
 
 £141 10 0 
 
 " It would answer for a farmer who has some capital, to take out 
 with him a few steady, industrious men, paying their passage, &c., 
 on condition of their worldng for him the first year for their board 
 and lodging only, and afterwards for such wages as might be agreed 
 npon. 
 
 " 5. The soil of Upper Canada is generally good ; when first 
 cleared it will produce from twenty to twenty-five bushels of wheat 
 to the acre. The climate is healthy ; the winters are, indeed, more 
 severe, and the summers are hotter than in this country ; but no 
 great inconvenience is experienced therefrom. The harvest season 
 is usually extremely dry and fine : the hay crops are got in with 
 very little trouble. Wood fuel is, of course, very abundant." 
 
 The communication of such hints as these cannot but be 
 desirable, even if it should produce no other effect than that of 
 deterring from the enterprise those who have not the requisite 
 means, and securing them from the misery which may ensue 
 from the failure of their hopes. 
 
 When, however, emigration is recommended as in any 
 case desirable, it is natural to inquire what kind of men 
 should be encouraged to take such a step. This question is 
 indeed sometimes brought forward as an objection, in the 
 form of a most tremendous dilemma : " Would you," says 
 the querist, " send out the idle and profligate, who can do 
 no good at home ? you would then do the colony more harm 
 than good. Or would you send out the best and most in- 
 dustrious men you could find ? this would indeed be a benefit 
 
240 
 
 EMTQRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 to the colony, but a loss to the mother-country, and would be 
 holding out, as a reward for superior merit, a perpetual exile." 
 
 This kind of argument well deserves to have been honoured 
 with a distinct name by the ancient schools of dialectics ; for it 
 is applicable, mutatis mutandis, to all subjects, and may be em- 
 ployed to prove any thing whatever. The principle indeed, on 
 the assumption of which it proceeds, viz. that the two extremes 
 of each class comprehend the whole of it, is one which could 
 not conveniently be acted on ; if it had been, in the case of 
 Bias's argument for instance, (which is a fine antique specimen 
 of it,) the human race would probably have long since been 
 extinct ; for he contended that marriage altogether was to be 
 avoided, because an eminently beautiful wife might be a source 
 of jealousy, and a hideously ugly one, of disgust ; but still the 
 argument is found serviceable for the purposes of an argument ; 
 i.e. to perplex an opponent. We shall endeavour to pass between 
 the horns of this dilemma, by replying, that it is neither by the 
 very best, nor the worst, of our countrymen, that we would see 
 our colonies stocked ; and as nine-tenths belong neither to the 
 one description nor the other, this exception produces no great 
 diflSculty. The former class, indeed, are not likely to be induced 
 to emigrate, as they generally thrive very well at home ; and 
 the latter are not likely to thrive anywhere. 
 
 But in an improved and fully peopled country, and especially 
 in times like the present, there cannot fail to be great numbers 
 of persons not deficient in industry and good conduct, who, from 
 the unfavourable state of the markets, from excessive competi- 
 tion in every profession and branch of labour, or from casual 
 misfortunes, find themselves either at a loss to obtain a com- 
 fortable independent maintenance for themselves or their fami- 
 lies, or excluded from the prospect of some respectable situation 
 in life, or perhaps of some matrimonial union, on which their 
 hopes had been fixed. To persons so situated, emigration seems 
 to be precisely the appropriate resource. It need not be appre- 
 hended that all the facilities and encoui'agement, or even all the 
 persuasion and assistance, that can be bestowed, will ever induce 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 241 
 
 those to emigrate who are so circumstanced, and so disposed, as 
 to be contented with their lot at home ; and if they are not, 
 their departure is not to be regretted. But it does not follow 
 that all such are of so restless and dissatisfied a temper, that they 
 will never be steady and contented anywhere. For instance, sup- 
 pose a strong attachment to exist between a young couple, who 
 are, perhaps, secure from indigence in a single state, but have no 
 prospect of decently bringing up and providing for a family ; if 
 they are uneasy at being compelled to renounce an object, the 
 desire of which is so natural, and, in itself, so blameless, are 
 they therefore to be reckoned among those restless characters, 
 who are impatient of every hardship and privation, and unfit for 
 any settled and regular course pf life ? If, indeed, the violence 
 of a romantic passion prompts them to set at defiance the dic- 
 tates of prudence, and to marry without a reasonable prospect of 
 supporting their offspring, they are much to be blamed ; though 
 even in that case they are generally prepared and willing to 
 undergo much toil and privation, though they may have over- 
 rated the prospects of success. Now there is no reason why 
 persons so situated may not prove industrious and prosperous 
 settlers. They will have difficulties and hardships to encounter, 
 — for these we have supposed them prepared ; but these difficul- 
 ties and hardships are all at the beginning of their course. 
 Instead of having to look forward to a continual increase of 
 them, as their family increases, — to regret the past, and dread 
 the future, more and more, each succeeding season, they will 
 'find their prospects growing continually brighter, and their 
 resources more abundant. Year after year the forest recedes 
 before the persevering cultivator : fresh fields are clothed with 
 corn or herbage ; his cattle multiply ; his increasing produce 
 enables him to proceed with still greater rapidity in extending 
 his improvements ; the log-hut is enlarged into a convenient 
 dwelling, and fitted up with those articles of comfort and 
 luxury which perhaps he had at first been compelled to forego ; 
 and his children inherit, in the place of an unproductive thicket, 
 a fertile and well stocked farm. 
 
 w. E. R 
 
242 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 It is not too much to say that the degree of industry, 
 frugality, and temperance, which are absolutely essential to 
 enable a person in the middling or lower orders, in this country, 
 to maintain his station in society, and preserve himself from 
 want, are in Canada, suflBcient to raise him to comparative 
 wealth. We know from most respectable authority, that one 
 of the wealthiest individuals of a considerable town of Upper 
 Canada, arrived in that country as an emigrant, with no other 
 property than the axe with which he was to labour. And 
 though several fortunate circumstances must have concurred to 
 produce such an extraordinary degree of success, there is no 
 presumption in calculating, in the case of every settler, on an 
 independent competence, as the natural result of steadiness and 
 good conduct. 
 
 It is not, however, generally speaking, desirable, that men 
 should be encouraged to go out as mere labourers, without 
 having either more money than just enough to pay their passage, 
 or any preconcerted arrangement for obtaining employment 
 when they arrive ; and especially is such a step to be deprecated 
 in the case of those who have families. Much severe distress 
 has been the consequence of such imprudence ; for though there 
 are perhaps many settlers who would be glad to hire them, yet 
 from their remote and scattered situations, and the diflBcultiea 
 of communication, much time may elapse before their mutual 
 wants are made known to the parties, so that the demand and 
 supply may be brought to balance each other ; and in the mean 
 time the emigrant is perhaps starving in a strange country. It 
 was for the relief of this distress, the amount of which has been 
 very great, that the societies to which we have already alluded 
 were first established in Canada. 
 
 The best plan perhaps would be that which is hinted at in 
 the printed statement ;. viz. that those who are emigrating as 
 farmers should, either at their own expense or otherwise, take 
 out with them such labourers as they might personally know, 
 or have good assurance of, as honest, steady, and skilful ; mak- 
 ing some bargain with them beforehand, as to the time and 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA, 
 
 243 
 
 terms of tbe engagement. Arrangements might also be made 
 through the medium of such societies as those already established 
 in Canada and in London, for supplying with labourers the 
 settlers already established there, many of whom probably 
 would be glad to receive men bringing from this country testi- 
 monials as to character. 
 
 One description of workmen, who would be especially well- 
 suited to the colony, is not, perhaps, so frequent in this country 
 now, as formerly, viz. a Jaclc-of- all-trades. In some remote dis- 
 tricts, such artisans are still prized ; but, in proportion to the 
 increase of population, and the consequent subdivision of labour, 
 they fall into disrepute. As Plato remarks of a certain class 
 of philosophers, (who, notwithstanding the lofty appellation 
 bestowed on them, were neither more nor less than artists of 
 this description,) no one chuses to employ the one man who can 
 do many things tolerably, when he can have access to several 
 who can do each of them excellently : and hence, though in 
 general men of superior ingenuity, their poverty is become pro- 
 verbial. They have accordingly the more reason to try their 
 fortune in a young settlement, which is exactly their proper 
 field. A scattered population, bad roads, remoteness from 
 towns, and a novel situation, leave in a most helpless condition 
 the man who has concentrated all his powers in learning to 
 perform some one operation very skilfully, and who has no 
 resources. 
 
 It would appear indeed that from this cause a nation like 
 our own, in which the subdivision of labour has been brought to 
 the utmost perfection, is less fitted for furnishing colonists than 
 one which has made far less progress in the arts. To illustrate 
 this by a single instance — no one can doubt that the querns, or 
 hand-mills, which were in use not long since in the Highlands, 
 as well as among the ancients, occasioned much waste of labour, 
 and that a great accession of wealth has been gained by the 
 powerful machinery which is now employed : but if we look to 
 the case of a new settlement, the picture is reversed ; we find, 
 in the Illinois district, the farmer obliged sometimes to carry 
 
244 
 
 EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 his corn fifty miles, through bad roads, to the nearest mill, and 
 to wait when he comes there, perhaps a week, before his turn 
 comes to have it ground ; yet he submits to this evil as utterly 
 irremediable. What a prodigious saving of labour would a 
 colony of highlanders with their querns have in this case 
 obtained ! We really think that the manufacture of hand- 
 mills, or of small horse-mills for this purpose, would be well 
 •worth the consideration of those who are interested in the pros- 
 perity of the Canadian settlers. 
 
 Perhaps too the society we have been speaking of may 
 hereafter be led to adopt the plan of establishing a kind of 
 mechanical school in this country, for communicating a slight 
 degree of instruction in several of the most necessary arts. It 
 •would take but a very short time to make a man a tolerable 
 carpenter, smith, &c., and the acquisition would be, in a new 
 settlement, invaluable. We have no doubt, however, that the 
 combined activity of intelligent individuals on both sides of the 
 Atlantic, guided by local knowledge, and stimulated by benevo- 
 lent zeal, will in time, if their numbers and funds should be- 
 come considerable, devise and bring into practice every expe- 
 dient, as far as the power of individuals extends, by which the 
 prosperity of the colony may be promoted. And if the fostering 
 hand of government is extended, to afford free scope for their 
 exertions, — to co-operate with them, where its aid is indispens- 
 able, — and to rectify from time to time the various abuses 
 •which must be expected to creep in, — we see every reason to 
 anticipate both a valuable resource to the redundant population 
 of this country, and a great accession of strength to our trans- 
 atlantic dominions, by the diversion thither of the better part 
 of that tide of emigrants which is now poured into the terri- 
 tories of the United States. We say, the letter part, because 
 there are doubtless many emigrants of a character which would 
 not promise much benefit to the colony ; and one of the chief 
 advantages perhaps which would result from the labours of a 
 •well-constituted society for promoting emigration, would be the 
 careful selection of proper persons on whom to bestow their 
 
EMIGRATION TO CANADA. 
 
 245 
 
 encouragement and assistance. Those in whom a rooted aver- 
 sion to our constitution in church and state is one of the prin- 
 cipal inducements for emigrating to republican America, it 
 would neither be easy nor desirable to divert from their purpose. 
 That is the best place for them. If they are disappointed in 
 finding that a democratical government and the absence of a 
 church-establishment do not imply freedom from taxes, and the 
 universal diifusion of virtue and happiness ; though their hopes 
 are not gratified, their complaints, at least, will be silenced, or 
 at any rate will cease to disturb our government. There may 
 nevertheless be many, who, though not radically corrupt in their 
 notions, nor altogether hostile to our government and religion, 
 may have been goaded by the pressure of distress, combined 
 with the inflammatory declamations of designing men, to feel a 
 great degree of impatience of the burden of taxes, tithes, and 
 poor-rates ; and such men may become, by the removal of the 
 cause of their irritation, loyal and peaceable subjects in that 
 part of the empire which is entirely exempt from those burdens. 
 At least their angry feelings will have time and opportunity to 
 subside, in a country where there are no tumultuous meetings 
 in populous towns of unemployed manufacturers ; but where all 
 their neighbours, as well as themselves, have something better 
 to do (as Mr. Gourlay found by experience) than to set about 
 new modelling the constitution ; — where the chief reform called 
 for is to convert forests into corn-fields, in which no one will 
 hinder them from laying the axe to the root of the evil; — and 
 in which the desire of novelty may be fully gratified, without 
 destroying established institutions ; — where, in short, the whole 
 structure of society is to be built up, without being previously- 
 pulled down. 
 
11. 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 1. Report from the Select Committee on Criminal Commitments 
 and Convictions. 1828. 
 
 2. New South Wales. Return to an Address of the Honourable the 
 Mouse of Commons, dated 1 May, 1828, for a Copy of a Report 
 by the late Major General Macquarie, &c. and an Extract of 
 a Letter from Major General Macquarie to Earl Bathurst in 
 October 1823, in answer to a certain part of the Report of Mr. 
 Commissioner Bigge on the State of the said Colony, &c. 
 
 3. Two Years in New South Wales ^ comprising Sketches of the 
 actual state of Society in that Colony ; of its peculiar advan- 
 tages to Emigrants; of its Topography, Natural History, &c. 
 &c. By P. Cunniagham, Surgeon, ll.N. 2 vols. Second 
 edition, revised and enlarged. 1827. 
 
 Wb remember to have heard an anecdote of a gentleman 
 who in riding through the deep and shady Devonshire lanes, 
 became entangled in the intricacies of their numberless wind- 
 ings; and not being able to obtain a suflBciently wide view of 
 the country to know whereabouts he was, trotted briskly on, 
 in the confident hope that he should at length come to some 
 house whose inhabitants would direct him, or to some more 
 open spot from which he could take a survey of the different 
 roads, and observe whither they led. After proceeding a long 
 time in this manner, he was surprised to find a perfect uni- 
 formity in the country through which he passed, and to meet 
 with no human Being, or come in sight of any habitation. 
 He was however encouraged by observing, as he advanced, 
 the prints of horses' feet, which indicated that he was in no 
 unfrequented track : these became continually more and more 
 numerous the further he went, so as to afford him a still 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 247 
 
 increasing assurance of his being in the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of some great road or populous village ; and he accord- 
 ingly paid the less anxious attention to the bearings of the 
 country, from being confident that he was in the right way. 
 But still he saw neither house nor human creature ; and, at 
 length, the recurrence of the same objects by the roadside 
 opened his eyes to the fact, that all this time, misled by the 
 multitude of the turnings, he liad been riding in a circle; 
 and that the footmarks, the sight of which had so cheered him, 
 were tJwse of his own horse; their number, of course, increasing 
 with every circuit he took. Had he not fortunately made this 
 discovery, perhaps he might have been riding there now. 
 
 The truth of the tale (and we can assure our readers that 
 we at least did not invent it) does not make it the less useful 
 by way of apologue : and the moral we would deduce from it 
 is, that in many parts of the conduct of life, and not least in 
 government and legislation, men are liable to folloiv the track of 
 their own footsteps, — to set themselves an example, — and to 
 flatter themselves that they are going right, from their con- 
 formity to their own precedent. 
 
 It is commonly and truly said, when any new and untried 
 measure is proposed, that we cannot fully estimate the incon- 
 veniences it may lead to in practice; but we are convinced this 
 is even still more the case with any system which has long been 
 in operation. The evils to which it may contribute, and the 
 obstacles it may present to the attainment of any good, are 
 partly overlooked or lightly regarded, on account of their fami- 
 liarity, partly attributed to such other causes as perhaps really 
 do co-operate in producing the same effects ; and ranked along 
 with the unavoidable alloys of human happiness, the inconve- 
 niences from which no human policy can entirely exempt us. 
 In some remote and unimproved districts, if you complain of 
 the streets of a town being dirty and dark, as those of London 
 were for many ages, the inhabitants tell you that the nights are 
 cloudy and the weather rainy : as for their streets, they are 
 just such as they have long been ; and the expedient of paving 
 
248 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 and lighting has occurred to nobody. The ancient Romans 
 had probably no idea that a civilized community could exist 
 without slaves. That the same work can be done much better 
 and cheaper by freemen, and that their odious system con- 
 tained the seeds of the destruction of their empire, were truths 
 which, familiarized as they were to the then existing state of 
 society, they were not likely to suspect. " If you allow of no 
 plundering," said an astonished Mahratta chief to some English 
 officers, " how is it possible for you to maintain such fine armies 
 as you bring into the field?" He and his ancestors time out 
 of mind had doubtless been following their own footsteps in the 
 established routine ; and had accordingly never dreamed that 
 pillage is inexpedient as a source of revenue, or even one that 
 can possibly be dispensed with. Recent experiment, indeed, 
 may bring to light and often exaggerate the defects of a 
 new system ; but long familiarity blinds us to those very 
 defects. 
 
 What we would infer from these general remarks, is the 
 importance of reviewing, from time to time, those parts of our 
 legislative system which are supposed to have the sanction of 
 experience, but to whose real consequences our eyes are likely 
 to have been blinded by custom. Custom may bring men to 
 consider many evils unavoidable, merely because they have 
 never hitherto been avoided ; and to reason like those Arabs 
 of whom the story is related, who concluded that a country 
 must be miserable which had no date- trees, merely because 
 dates had always been, to them, the staff of life. Nothing, in- 
 deed, should be hastily altered on the ground merely that it is 
 not, in practice, perfect ; since this is not to be expected of 
 any system. And we should remember also that custom will 
 often blind men to the good, as well as to the evil eifects, of 
 any long established system. The agues engendered by a 
 marsh, (like that ancient one which bore the name and sur- 
 rounded the city of Camarina,) and which have so long been 
 common as to be little regarded, may not be its only effects ; it 
 may be also a defence against an enemy. The Camarinseans 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 249 
 
 having drained the swampi, their city became healthy, but was 
 soon after besieged and taken. The preventive effects, indeed, 
 whether good or evil, of any long established system, are hardly 
 ever duly appreciated. But though no law or system, whether 
 actually existing or proposed, can be expected to be unex- 
 ceptionable, or should have its defects pointed out without any 
 notice of corresponding advantages, it is most important to 
 examine every measure, whether new or old, and to try it on 
 its intrinsic merits ; always guarding against the tendency to 
 acquiesce without inquiry into the necessity of any existing 
 practice. In short, we should, on the one hand, not venture 
 rashly on untrodden paths without a careful survey of the 
 country ; and, on the other hand, be ever on our guard against 
 following in confident security the track of our own footsteps. 
 
 We have no intention of entering, at present, on so wide 
 a field as the examination of the subject of crimes and punish- 
 ments generally : but we wish to call the attention of our 
 readers to the consideration of one particular class of them 
 with reference to the existing state of the law among ourselves. 
 The subject is not an agreeable one ; but as long as crimes 
 exist, and punishments are, in consequence, necessary to check 
 them, there can hardly be one of much greater importance. 
 The theory of punishment is usually regarded as too elementary 
 to require or admit of a detailed discussion : but it often 
 happens that principles are, in practice, overlooked, from the 
 very circumstance of their being so obvious as to be never dis- 
 puted, and, consequently, seldom adverted to. And it will be 
 found accordingly in this, oftener perhaps than in any other 
 subject, that the same truths which, when stated generally, are 
 regarded as truisms not worth insisting on, will, in their prac- 
 tical application, be dreaded as the most startling paradoxes. 
 We are convinced, therefore, that those who are best acquainted 
 with the subject, will be the least disposed to complain of our 
 
 ' In opposition to the oracle 
 
 Kivti Kafiapivav, oKivijroc yap afitivuv. 
 
250 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 laying down distinctly in the outset, the principles from which 
 our deductions are made. 
 
 We may be allowed then to premise the remark, that there 
 are three, and only three objects, with a view to which punish- 
 ments can be inflicted or threatened : 1st. Retrihuiion, or ven- 
 geance; — a desire to allot a proportionate sufiering to each 
 degree of moral guilt, independent of any ulterior consideration, 
 and solely with a view to the past ill-desert of the offender : 
 2dly. What may be called correction ; — the prevention of a 
 repetition of offence by the same individual; whether by his 
 reformation or removal : 3dly. The prevention of the offence, 
 generally, by the terror of a punishment denounced ; whether 
 that object be attained by the example of a culprit suffering 
 the penalty, or, simply, by the mere threat and apprehension of 
 it. To these appropriate objects may be added another, in- 
 cidental advantage, not belonging to punishments , as such, but 
 common to them with other legislative enactments ; — the public 
 benefit, in an economical point of view, which may be, con- 
 ceivably, derived directly from a punishment ; as when crimi- 
 nals are usefully employed on any public work, so as to make 
 in that way some compensation to society for the injury done 
 to it. Such a compensation, however, we should remember, 
 must necessarily be so very inadequate, that this object should 
 always be made completely subordinate to the main end or ends 
 proposed in the denunciation of punishment. 
 
 And what is to be regarded as the great object ? All pro- 
 bably would admit, in the abstract, whatever they may do in 
 practice, that it is the prevention of crime. As for the first of 
 the purposes just enumerated, the infliction of just vengeance 
 on the guilty, it is clearly out of Man^s province. Setting aside 
 the consideration that the circumstances on which moral guilt 
 depends, the inward motives of the offender, his temptations, 
 and the opportunities he may have had of learning his duty, 
 can never be perfectly known but to the Searcher of hearts, — 
 setting aside this, it does not appear that Man, even if the de- 
 grees of moral turpitude could be ascertained by him, would 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 251 
 
 have a right to inflict on his fellow-man any punishment -what- 
 ever, whether heavy or light, of which the ultimate object 
 should be, the suffering of the offender. Such a procedure, in 
 individuals, is distinctly forbidden by the Founder of our 
 religion, as a sinful revenge : and it does not appear how in- 
 dividuals combined into a community can impart to that com- 
 munity any right which none of them individually possessed; — 
 can bestow, iu short, on themselves what is not theirs to bestow. 
 Our Saviour and his apostles did not mean to deprive even 
 an individual of the right of defending (when there is no other 
 defence to be had ) his own person and property ; and this 
 right he is competent to transfer, and is considered as having 
 transferred, to the community ; but they meant to forbid the 
 " rendering of evil for evil," for its own sake. And as no one 
 man is authorized to do this, or can authorize others to ex- 
 ercise such a right, even over himself, so neither can ten men 
 or ten millions possess any such right to inflict vengeance : for 
 " vengeance is mine, saith the Lord." 
 
 Of the other two, which are legitimate objects of punish- 
 ment, the prevention of a repetition of the offence by the same 
 individual, whether by his reform or removal, is clearly of 
 incalculably less importance (desirable as it is in itself) than 
 the other, the prevention of crime generally, by the terror of 
 example or of threat. If we could, however, completely attain 
 the other objects, by some expedient which would yet fail 
 of, or very inadequately accomplish, this last, such a system 
 must be at once pronounced inefiicacious. Could we be sure 
 of accomplishing the reformation of every convicted criminal, 
 at the same time making his services available to the Public, 
 yet if the method employed should be such as to deter no one 
 from committing the offence, society could not exist under such 
 a system. On the other hand, if the punishment denounced 
 had no other tendency whatever but to deter, and could be 
 completely effectual in that, it is plain that it would entirely 
 supersede all other expedients, since it would never even be in- 
 flicted. This truth, though self-evident, is frequently over- 
 
252 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 looked in practice, from the necessary imperfection of all our 
 expedients. Hardly any denunciation of pmiishment ever was 
 thus completely effectual ; and thence men are often led to look 
 to the actual infliction as the object contemplated. Whereas it 
 is evident that every instance of the infliction of a punishment, 
 is ah instance, as far as it goes, of the jailure of the legislator's 
 design. No axiom in Euclid can be more evident than that the 
 object of the legislator in enacting that murderers shall be 
 hanged, and pilferers imprisoned or transported, is, not to load 
 the gallows, fill the jail, and people New Holland, but to pre- 
 vent the commission of murder and theft ; and that conse- 
 quently every man who is hanged, or transported, or confined, 
 is an instance " pro tanto," of the ineflBcacy {i.e. want of com- 
 plete efficacy) of the law. The imprisonment may reform the 
 offender; death removes him from the possibility of again 
 troubling society ; and the example may in either case operate 
 to deter others in future ; but the very necessity of inflicting 
 the punishment, proves that the dread of that punishment has, 
 so far at least, failed of producing the desired efiect. This 
 absolute perfection indeed — the entire prevention of crime — is a 
 point unattainable ; but it is a point to which we may approach 
 indefinitely ; — it is the point towards which our measures must 
 be always tending, and we must estimate their wisdom by the 
 degrees of their approach to it. 
 
 We have dwelt, at the risk of being thought tedious, on 
 these first principles, because many of the maxims inevitably 
 resulting from them are so perpetually violated in practice, that 
 some persons would even be startled at the inculcation of them : 
 — because, in short, the present case is one where the premises 
 pass for truisms, and the conclusions, frequently, for extravagant 
 paradoxes. Even those who are too intelligent and too well 
 taught not to be fully aware of the true end of human punish- 
 ments, are perpetually liable to be led into a forgetfulness of it 
 by the circumstance that the same action may be at once a sin 
 and a crime — an act of moral turpitude, and also one calling for 
 legal punishment on grounds of political expediency ; — yet may 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 253 
 
 be of incalculably different magnitude according as it is viewed 
 in this light or in that ; and may be even aggravated in the one 
 point of view, by the very circumstances which extenuate it in 
 the other. So that if we lose sight for a moment of the pre- 
 cise object with which we are considering any offence, we are 
 liable to draw a conclusion not only wide of the truth, but 
 exactly opposite to it. E.g. it is plain that the strength of the 
 temptations to any offence is an extenuation of the moral guilt 
 of the offender ; and it is no less plain, and is a rule on which 
 legislators act — as in the case of stealing sheep and other neces- 
 sarily exposed property — that this very circumstance calls for 
 the heavier punishment to counterbalance it, in order to prevent 
 the offence. Yet we have known an intelligent writer, doubtless 
 well aware of this principle, but losing sight of it through the 
 inadvertency just alluded to, contend for the justice of a more 
 severe punishment in the case of offenders whose temptations 
 are less, in consideration of the increased moral guilt of the 
 offence. After remarking that confinement to hard labour, &c. 
 is a far severer infliction on persons of the higher ranks, he 
 adds, that rank and education ought not to lighten punishment, 
 because if they make the feelings more susceptible to an equal 
 infliction, it must be remembered also that the moral restraint 
 and social obligation were the stronger, and that the violation of 
 them merits a severer suffering. And so it does, in a moral 
 point of view ; which is evidently that which the author was 
 inadvertently taking ; forgetting, for the moment, the proper 
 end of legislative enactments. Into the very same error no less 
 a writer than Adam Smith has been betrayed, in condemning 
 the punishments denounced against smuggling for being more 
 severe in proportion to the strength of the temptation ; which, 
 he says, is contrary to the principles of just legislation. ( Wealth 
 of Nations, p. v. c. 2.) 
 
 But to proceed to our inquiry ; there is no question perhaps 
 more perplexing to the legislator than the treatment of that 
 class of offenders whose crimes fall short of capital, and yet are 
 such as cannot be adequately repressed by pecuniary mulct, or 
 
254 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 such corporal chastisements as are now in use among us. The 
 majority of offences of this description are at present visited by 
 sentence of transportation. We say " sentence of transporta- 
 tion," because in a large proportion of cases, including a great 
 majority of those in which the sentence is for seven years only, 
 actual transportation is not the punishment inflicted ; but con- 
 finement with hard labour, either on board the hulks or in the 
 penitentiary, is substituted, either for the whole term, or for 
 some part of it. 
 
 " Die quo discrimine, ripas 
 
 Haj linqniint, illjB remis vada livida verrimt." 
 
 There may be reasons to justify such a system of uncertainty ; 
 but they ought to be very strong ones ; for it seems on the face 
 of it open to many objections. It is universally admitted that 
 the certainty of punishment, i. e. of receiving some punishment, 
 is far more effectual in deterring from crime than severity ; 
 because the same kind of disposition which leads men to ven- 
 ture in a lottery, viz., the tendency to calculate on their own 
 good luck, makes them more willing to run some small risk of a 
 very heavy penalty, than to encounter a certainty, or nearly a 
 certainty, of the lightest. In fact, if every man could be quite 
 sure of being speedily visited, though with a moderate punish- 
 ment for every transgression, hardly any would ever incur it. 
 And this is the point to which, though not perfectly attainable, 
 we should always endeavour to approach as nearly as possible. 
 Now it seems to be consonant to this principle, that we should 
 remove, as far as can be done, every kind of uncertainty in 
 reference to punishments. And though it is out of man's power 
 to insure the defection and conviction of every offender, it evi- 
 dently is possible to let every one know beforehand the pre- 
 cise meed of punishment which will await him in case of his 
 being convicted. This, we say, is possible to be done to the 
 fullest extent; but should that be, for any reason, judged incon- 
 venient, at least there should be as little uncertainty as possible. 
 For otherwise, may it not be inferred from the natural character 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 265 
 
 of man, that each malefactor, ia addition to the chances of 
 escaping conviction, will, and does console himself with the 
 hope of undergoing that species of punishment which, to him, 
 is the lightest ? Like a party of gamblers at rouge et noir, all 
 buoyed up with hope, some in the confidence that success will 
 attend the red, others the black, convicts who have taken 
 tickets in our penal lottery, flatter themselves with opposite 
 hopes ; he who dreads nothing so much as a penitentiary, that 
 he shall onhj be transported ; and he who is most afraid (if there 
 be any such) of expatriation, that he shall not be transported, 
 but left in the penitentiary or the hulks. 
 
 We are aware that no penalty can be devised which shall be 
 of precisely equal severity to every one who undergoes it : a 
 punishment which is the most dreaded by one man, on account 
 of his peculiar feelings and habits, is to another, of opposite 
 habits, comparatively light. Nor, again, can any system be 
 framed which will allot, with perfect regularity, to each class of 
 characters, the punishment most dreaded by each. But one of 
 the inconveniences, and perhaps one of the greatest, of the 
 system of complete uncertainty to which we have been object- 
 ing, is that it precludes the legislature from profiting by ex- 
 perience ; indeed, from acquiring any, concerning the respective 
 efficacy of difierent kinds of punishment. For it should be 
 remembered that, with a view to the main object, prevention, it 
 is, in all cases, the expectation, not the infliction of the punish- 
 ment, that does good ; the only benefit that can arise from the 
 example of the infliction being, the excitement in others of this 
 expectation ; — the wholesome terror of suffering the like. Now 
 this benefit can only exist as far as men are led to anticipate 
 for themselves, in case of a similar oflence, a similar suffering. 
 The infliction of a whipping is no example to thieves on the mere 
 ground that the person so chastised is a thief and is whipped 
 for it, but on the ground that other thieves may expect hereafter 
 to be whipped. Yet this maxim, truism as it is, is practically 
 violated in every instance in which it is left to chance to decide 
 which, out of several different punishments, a certain convict 
 
256 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 shall receive. There are then no means of judging which of 
 these are more, and which less, eflBcacious in deterring offenders. 
 A certain kind of punishment, we will suppose, may be inflicted 
 on a considerable number of convicts, without any diminution 
 of that class of offences ; and yet, for aught we know, this very 
 punishment may be an object of dread to those very men, and 
 might have deterred most of them, if they had been assured 
 what punishment awaited them. The labourer at the hulks, if 
 we could dive into his thoughts, might perhaps be found to have 
 offended, not in defiance of the hulks, but of transportation : 
 and he who groans under solitary confinement, might prove to 
 be one who thought little of imprisonment among good company 
 on board the hulks. As long as this uncertainty remains, all 
 our judgments respecting the comparative eflBcacy of punish- 
 ments must remain involved in equal uncertainty. No legislator 
 can decide "^what penalty malefactors most dread, unless he 
 knows what they expect. On the other hand, any penalty which 
 should be invariably inflicted on a certain class of offenders, 
 even should it prove wholly ineffectual, would at least have 
 served the purpose of an experiment ; we should have ascertained 
 its ineflBcacy, and might proceed to change it for another. But 
 on the opposite plan, our practice neither springs from ex- 
 perience, nor tends to produce experience ; we cannot refer 
 effects to their causes ; but are left to proceed by guess and at 
 random from beginning to end. 
 
 Now if it be the fact, and we shall presently proceed to show 
 that it is at least highly probable, that actual transportation is, 
 to most offenders, either a very slight punishment, or a reivard, 
 it will be evident from what has been just said that this circum- 
 stance will not only nullify the effect of transportation itself as 
 a preventive of crime, but will also impair the efficacy of such 
 other penalties as are liable to be commuted for it. It is opening 
 a door to hope. And in legal enactments the same rule holds 
 good as in mechanics : nothing is stronger than its weakest 
 I part. If a poor man is convinced (we wish the supposition were 
 impossible and inconceivable) that a trip to Botany Bay would 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 257 
 
 be the best thing that could befall him, he may be even tempted 
 by such a belief, to steal a sheep in the hope of a free passage, 
 and to run the risk of being sent to the hulks instead, trust- 
 ing that he shall have better luck than that : especially if there 
 be some aggravation in his offence, which will procure him a 
 sentence of fourteen instead of seven years ; in which case 
 actual transportation is much the more likely to be the conse- 
 quence. 
 
 But can there be any, some of our readers will perhaps say, 
 to whom transportation really is no punishment ? Doubtless to 
 a person in a tolerably comfortable situation in his own country, 
 and whose habits are quiet and regular, a four months' voyage, 
 and a settlement, either permanent or temporary, at theantipodes, 
 is likely to be felt as a grievous exile ; to say nothing of the 
 abridgement of liberty, and compulsory labour. But the higher 
 classes, or indeed those in any class, will fall into great errors, if 
 they judge too hastily of the feelings of others by their own, 
 and conclude that every thing must be felt by all as a punish- 
 ment, which would be such to themselves. If a fine lady or 
 gentleman were promised a sight of a criminal sentenced to 
 hard labour, and were to be shown a man occupied all day in 
 raking mud out of a ditch, and dining on hard dumpling with 
 dripping poured over it, (the Suffolk dainty,) they might per- 
 haps think his punishment too severe, and might be surprised 
 to be told that he was after all no criminal, but an honest 
 labourer, who was very well satisfied to get such good employ- 
 ment ; and that, though probably he would be glad of better 
 diet, more beer, and less work, he would find himself as uncom- 
 fortable if confined to the mode of life and occupations of those 
 who pitied him, as they would be in the scene of his highest 
 enjoyment, the chimney-corner of a dirty alehouse. In fact, 
 the great mass of mankind are sentenced to hard labour, by the 
 decree of Providence. And though a tolerably steady character, 
 in tolerable circumstances, will usually prefer undergoing this 
 lot in " his own, his native land," to the chance of even better- 
 ing his condition in another, it is well known that all men are 
 
 W. B. S 
 
258 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 not steady characters, nor all in even tolerable circumstances : 
 multitudes are every -way exposed to the trials of " malesuada 
 fames, ac turpis egestas.^^ 
 
 The man who is able and willing to work hard, yet is unable 
 ■with his utmost exertions to provide bare necessaries for his wife 
 and family without resorting to parish relief, — the man who, with- 
 out being incorrigibly idle, has a distaste for steady hard work, 
 rewarded with a bare subsistence, and a taste for the luxuries of 
 the lower orders, yet cannot acquire them by honest means, — the 
 man who by his irregularities has so far hurt his character that 
 he cannot obtain employment except when hands are scarce, — 
 these, and many other very common descriptions of persons, are 
 so situated that transportation can hardly be expected to be viewed 
 by them as any punishment. As a punishment, we mean, when 
 viewed in comparison with the alternative of living by honest 
 industry : for it would be absurd to say that, to lazy vagabonds, 
 the necessity of labour is itself a punishment : they dislike it in- 
 deed, but they cannot avoid it hy abstaining from crime. Labour 
 they must at any rate, or else steal or starve ; and that only can 
 operate as a preventive punishment which it is in one's power to 
 avoid by good conduct. It would be ridiculous to exhort a poor 
 man not to subsist by stealing but by hard labour, lest he should 
 be condemned to hard labour ! If every thing that a man dislihes 
 is to be regarded as therefore a punishment to him, we might 
 hope to deter people from stealing by the threat of merely com- 
 pelling them to restore what they steal ; for they all probably 
 would agree with FalstafF in " hating restitution, as double 
 trouble." Yet a man would be reckoned an idiot, who should 
 say, " Brave the cold contentedly in your own clothes, and do 
 not steal my cloak ; for if you do, I will — if I can catch you — 
 make you pull it off again." 
 
 We should apologize for noticing a truth so obvious were we 
 not convinced that it is often overlooked, in consequence of the 
 diffei'ence, in effect, of the same sentence, on different persons. 
 To one brought up in refinement, a sentence to wield the spade 
 or axe, and live on plentiful though coarse food for seven years, 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 269 
 
 ■would be felt as a very heavy punishment for flagrant miscon- 
 duct, and might induce him to abstain from such misconduct J 
 to the majority of mankind, it is the very bonus held out for 
 good conduct. 
 
 To the great bulk of those, therefore, ■who are sentenced to 
 transportation, the punishment amounts to this, that they are 
 carried to a country whose clim<ate is delightful, producing in 
 profusion all the necessaries and most of the luxuries of life ; — 
 that they have a certainty of maintenance, instead of an uncer- 
 tainty; are better fed, clothed, and lodged, than (by honest means) 
 they ever y^eve before; have an opportunity of regaling themselves 
 at a cheap rate with all the luxuries they are most addicted to ; 
 — and if their conduct is not intolerably bad, are permitted, even 
 before the expiration of their term, to become settlers on a fertile 
 farm, which with very moderate industry they may transmit as 
 a sure and plentiful provision to their children. Whatever other 
 advantages this system may possess, it certainly does not look 
 like a very tei-rific punishment, -ffisop, we are told, remon- 
 strated with a man who, when bitten by a dog, attempted the 
 superstitious cure for the wound by giving the beast bread 
 dipped in the blood : if the dogs, said he, find this out, they 
 will all fall upon us. in hopes of these sops. We fear the shrewd 
 old fabulist would entertain similar apprehensions from what is 
 called our humane system of laws. 
 
 Perhaps therefore, all things considered, it is as well that 
 the execution of such a sentence should take place in the other 
 hemisphere, that the lower orders in England may have the less 
 opportunity of comparing their o"mi condition with that of the 
 convicts : if the punishment really were a punishment likely to 
 strike terror, there would be a very serious objection to its 
 being removed so far from the knowledge or notice of those 
 whom it is designed to deter. But let any man of common 
 sense judge how far those under a temptation to any crime are 
 likely to be deterred, by a knowledge of such facts as Mr. 
 Cunningham among others lays before us : — 
 
 S 3 
 
260 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 " I question much, however, whether many English labourers 
 live better than our convict servant here, whose weekly ration con- 
 sists of a sufficiency of flour to make four quartern loaves at least ; 
 of seven pounds of beef ; two ounces of tea, one pound of sugar, and 
 two ounces of tobacco, with the occasional substitution of two or 
 three quarts of milk daily for the tea and sugar allowance. Numbers 
 of the English working poor would doubtless be happy to bargain 
 for such a diet ; and thus their situation might in these points be 
 bettered, by their being placed upon an equality with convicts !" 
 
 The natives of the sister-island, it seems, have their eyes 
 more speedily opened to the advantages of their lot than our- 
 selves : — 
 
 " The Irish convicts are more happy and contented with their 
 situation on board than the English, although more loth to leave 
 their country, even improved as the situation of the great body of 
 them is by being thus removed, — numbers telling me they had never 
 been half so .well off in their lives before. It was most amusing to 
 read the letters they sent to their friends on being fairly settled on 
 board, (all such going through the surgeon's hands,) none ever 
 failing to give a most circumstantial account of what the breakfast, 
 dinner, and supper, consisted of; a minute list of the clothes sup- 
 plied, and generally laying particular emphasis on the important fact 
 of having a blanket and bed to ' my own self entirely,' which seemed 
 to be somewhat of a novelty by their many circumlocutions about 
 it. One observed, in speaking of the ship, that ' Mr. Reedy's parlour 
 was never half so clone,' while the burden of another was, ' Many a 
 Mac in your town, if he only knew what the situation of a convict 
 was, would not be long in following my example ! thank God for the 
 same ! I never was better off in my life !' " 
 
 This dangerous knowledge however does, not unfrequently, 
 reach this country also ; and may be expected to be more and 
 more generally diifused, and to lead to its natural results. 
 Sundry instances have come under our own observation, (and 
 many of our readers probably could multiply them to a great 
 extent, if each would note down such as he hears of on good 
 authority,) of convicts writing home to their friends in England 
 in the same style of self-congratulation, and exhorting such of 
 them as are in a distressed situation to use their lest endeavours 
 to obtain a passage to a land where such cheering prospects 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 261 
 
 await them. Two instances we know, of a master, and a mis- 
 tress, who had each been robbed by a servant subsequently 
 transported, receiving a friendly greeting, in one of the in- 
 stances personally, in the other, by a letter, accompanied by a 
 pi'esent, with acknowledgments of former kindness, from these 
 very servants, who had realized large property, one of them 
 in New Holland, the other in Van Diemen's Land. The latter 
 seriously urged her mistress to come out and join her, pro- 
 mising herself to patronize and assist her, and holding out 
 the certainty of making a fortune ! It is most consolatory, 
 no doubt, to reflect how thrifty and well conducted these in- 
 dividuals must, in all likelihood, have become, and to observe 
 their dutiful gratitude. But gold may be bought too dear. 
 Is it worth while to hold out a temptation which will be the 
 means of spoiling one thousand servants, for the sake of trying 
 how effectually we can reform half a dozen of them : — . 
 
 " Only to show with how small pain, 
 A wound like this is healed again ? " ' 
 
 Shall we, in short, to cure one bite, throw a sop to the dog, 
 which will bring a Avhole pack upon us ? 
 
 It may perhaps be said, that such instances of rapid accu- 
 mulation of wealth must be very rare ; and that many of the 
 accounts transmitted are probably much overcharged. We 
 should answer, so much the worse. The mischief is done, not 
 by the attainment of these advantages in New South Wales, but 
 by the expectation of them excited at home : a very few prizes 
 of twenty or thirty thousand pounds will induce multitudes to 
 take tickets ; false descriptions may excite real hopes ; and if 
 the credulous are allured by these hopes, it is no comfort to 
 think that they are ultimately disappointed ; on the contrary, 
 it is an aggravation of the evil, since our object is, not the in- 
 fliction of suffering, but the excitement of a salutary dread of it, 
 at the least expense of actual pain that is compatible with that 
 object. If it were possible that we could carry offenders to an 
 Elysium, and at the same time succeed in keeping up the belief 
 
262 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 that they were carried to a Tartarus, this would be of all 
 things the most desirable ; but if they expect, whether truly or 
 not, a passage to Elysium, our object is completely defeated : as 
 long as such hopes, however visionary, are kept up, we must 
 expect to find the distressed or discontented part of the commu- 
 nity resembling (according to the felicitous allusion to the ^neid 
 by one of our contemporaries) the disconsolate ghosts on the 
 banks of Styx : — 
 
 " Stabant orantes primi transmittere cui'sum 
 Tendebantque manus, ripje ulterioris amore." 
 
 We find Mr. Cunningham, whose testimony is the more im- 
 portant, on account of his being a decided advocate for the 
 system of colonizing with convicts, distinctly admitting that 
 hitherto, i.e. for about forty years during Avhich this system has 
 been in operation, it has totally failed of the main object, the 
 deteri-ing of oflfenders by the fear of punishment ; but he con- 
 soles himself with the hope that hereafter a better method 
 will be pursued, and so that transportation may begin to be 
 really penal. 
 
 " A penal colony, however, to prove fully beneficial to the 
 mother-country, must be regulated so as efficiently to punuh the 
 crime committed, before the reform of the criminal is thought of; 
 and in this particular has hitherto consisted the great defect of our 
 New South Wales system; for transportation here could scarcely be 
 called a punishment, and indeed, in half of the cases at least, proved 
 a reward. The judicious measures, however, commenced by our 
 present governor, promise a speedy reform in these matters, and 
 will, I hope, convert the colony from a paradise, into a purgatory, 
 for criminals," 
 
 We do not dispute that improvements may be introduced 
 into the system ; but the only efiectual one, we are convinced, 
 will be to abandon it altogether. Means doubtless may be used 
 to make transportation no longer altogether a reward ; but it 
 does not follow that even then it will operate as a punishment ; 
 and we must be ever on our guard against concluding at once 
 (according to the fallacy above noticed) that it does so, on the 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 263 
 
 ground of criminals beginning to dread and dislike it; they 
 must dread and dislike it more, much more, than a life of honest 
 industry, before it can operate as a check to those whose only 
 alternative is such a life, or one of dishonesty, and who are 
 disposed to prefer the latter. We have said that this penal 
 labour ought to be much more dreaded than honest industry, for 
 two reasons ; first, on account of the uncertainty of the criminal's 
 detection : he who had rather steal than submit to ordinary hard 
 work, will take his chance of being sent to Botany Bay, unless 
 his punishment there is apprehended to be something far beyond 
 ordinary hard work : secondly, on account of the hope held out, 
 (and which is a principal design of the system to hold out,) that 
 at the expiration of his term, if not sooner, he shall be located 
 on a farm, and placed in a situation exceeding the brightest 
 dreams of an English cottager. This hope will need much to 
 counterbalance it, if transportation is to become a dreaded 
 punishment. Mr. C. trusts it will become a purgatory ; but he 
 must remember it is one which, like the Popish purgatory, leads 
 to a paradise. 
 
 Supposing this point however to be fully attained, and to 
 suppose it, is what Johnson would call " the triumph of hope 
 over experience," still it would be a long time after the comple- 
 tion of this change, before the character of it would be so fully 
 understood in England as to do away the impression produced 
 by forty previous years of impunity and reward.. And till then 
 — till the reformation of the discipline in New South Wales 
 were fully appreciated in England, no good whatever would be 
 effected by the change : for, as we must once more repeat, it is 
 not suffering, but the expectation of suffering, that does good. 
 Generation after generation of criminals would be shipped off 
 before the truth was completely learned, that the same sentence 
 which formerly implied nothing terrific, was at length become a 
 serious penalty. And lastly, the effect must even, after all, be 
 comparatively trifling, of a punishment undergone at the distance 
 of a four months' voyage. 
 
 That a system, on the face of it so little calculated to secure 
 
264 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 the great end of punishment, the prevention of crime, should 
 have been so long persevered in, indeed, should have ever been 
 resorted to, is to be attributed, we conceive, chiefly to the hope 
 of attaining those other objects which we have already noticed 
 as of a subordinate character: viz. first, reform, or at least, 
 removal of the individual culprits ; and, secondly, the benefit to 
 the colony resulting from their labour. It may, perhaps, be 
 thought scarcely necessary ever to notice these supposed advan- 
 tages, because, as we have above remarked, could these be 
 attained in the utmost perfection, yet if the great object, pre- 
 vention, were not accomplished, the whole scheme must be 
 regarded as a failure. We shall, however, venture on a few 
 remarks relative to these subordinate objects, because, we con- 
 ceive, that the expediency of the present system, even with a 
 view to them alone, is greatly overrated. 
 
 . With respect to the reformation of off'enders, that it has 
 been, in some instances, more or less perfectly attained, there 
 can be no doubt : but that, in the generality of cases, the dis- 
 cipline undergone in the colony should be suflScient even to undo 
 the evil of the passage — to remove but the additional contamina- 
 tion contracted during the voyage out — is more than either 
 reasonable conjecture, or experience, would allow us to hope. 
 For let any one but consider the probable eflfects of a close 
 intercourse for four months, of a number of criminals of various 
 ages, and degrees of guilt, with nothing whatever to do in all 
 that time but to talk over their exploits of roguery ! They 
 must be like grass heaped together in a green state, and sufiered 
 to become mow-hurnt before it is spread out and turned. That 
 would deserve to be called a mighty reformation, which should 
 ever bring them back to their former state, and leave them 
 merely no worse than they were before the voyage. Of the 
 sort of life led by the convicts during the passage, Mr. C. gives 
 nearly such an account as might have been anticipated. 
 
 " A man being estimated in this kind of society according to the 
 amount and adroitness of his villanies, it Is no wonder that the yet 
 ' mute inglorious ' Barringtons of the day should crown themselves 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 265 
 
 occasionally with the bays appertaining to other brows, or boast of 
 robberies committed only in their imagination, in order to elevate 
 themselves to something like a par with more dignified culprits. 
 Almost all their conversation is of the larcenous kind, — consisting 
 of details of their various robberies, and the singular adventures 
 they have passed through ; bat generally one-half of these are 
 either sheer invention, or dressed up in such a way as to show off 
 in the most flattering point of view before the eyes of their asso- 
 ciates. 
 
 " The adventures of some of these men are certainly both 
 extraordinary and amusing ; and the tact with which they will 
 humbug the very individuals whom they are plundering, might 
 serve to entertain even the plundered party. It is the rogue's in- 
 terest, of course, to make the adventure tell well to his own credit, 
 and therefore considerable deduction must generally be made for the 
 embellishments wherewith he garnishes his tale. I once listened 
 unobserved to the relation of an adroit and facetiously-managed 
 robbery, which the hero was detailing with great glee ; and the 
 admirable manner in which the whole was wound up, called forth 
 such a spontaneous burst of laughter and applause from the throng 
 around, that he rapturously exclaimed, while striking the bench 
 with his firmly-clenched fist, (his whole countenance beaming de- 
 lightedly,) ' By G — , I could steal a shirt off a fellow's back without 
 his knowing it ! ' 
 
 " It is, in sober sadness, time fruitlessly expended, to attempt 
 the reformation of these people when crowded thus 'knave upon 
 knave :' those who may be seriously inclined are jeered out of it 
 by the rest, and the reformation you bring about is a mere bam 
 meant to be turned to gainful account by making a dupe of you. 
 All you ought to attempt, under such circumstances, is to bring 
 about regularity and decency of conduct. If you aim at more, you 
 only make hypocrites, which is ten times worse than permitting 
 them to remain (as you find them) open downright knaves." 
 
 Accordingly, those coQvicts who return after the expiration 
 of their sentence, or who escape before, are generally found to 
 be the most perfect and accomplished villains. 
 
 Many, however, remain and settle in the colony ; but the 
 majority of them appear to turn out just such settlers, as from 
 their previous habits of life, might be anticipated. 
 
 " The thriving and fertile districts of Airds and Apin ar e 
 
266 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 situated in the county of Cumberland, immediately beyond the Cow- 
 pasture, looking from Camden. They are chiefly occupied by small 
 settlers, who have been originally convicts, out of many of whose 
 hands the grants are slowly passing through the thoughtless, spend- 
 thrift conduct of the occupants." 
 
 Their posterity, however, appear to be considerably im- 
 proved. Of the cwrreracy-population, (as the natives of the 
 settlement are called,) Mr. C. seems to think very favoui-ably ; 
 and indeed no class of mortals are more likely to meet with au 
 indulgent judgment, since even tolerable conduct presents a 
 striking contrast to that of their progenitors. They are de- 
 scribed as remarkable for honesty : query, in what degree may 
 this be attributed to the total absence of all hope of being re- 
 warded for dishonesty, by being sent to New South Wales.-* 
 Honesty, however, in another sense, is represented as far less 
 common than black swans. The females, it seems, are cleanly 
 and active, but " do not reckon chastity as the first of vii'tues." 
 But though they cannot boast that " the women are all vir- 
 tuous," "the men are all brave." By Mr. C.'s account they 
 excel as pugilists ; practising that noble art with great valour 
 and skill from their childhood, and generally proving victorious 
 in a boxing-match, "between sterling and currency!" Who 
 knows but that in addition to her exports of merino-wool, Aus- 
 tralia may one day furnish a " champion of England." 
 
 It is, however, considered by some as a matter of great 
 self-congratulation, that these persons- are so much superior 
 to what any children of such profligate parents would have 
 proved if they had remained in England. But this proceeds on 
 the manifestly false assumption that, in that case, the same 
 numerous progeny would have arisen; whereas reason and ex- 
 perience show that (to say nothing of the boasted fecundity of 
 the worst description of females in New Holland) whenever 
 settlers are placed in an unoccupied territory, where conse- 
 quently the supply of subsistence is practically unlimited, 
 population increases with vast rapidity ; as in the North Ameri- 
 can States, where the numbers advance as much in five-and- 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 267 
 
 twenty years, as in Europe in five centuries. The immediate 
 progeny of one thousand reprobates of both sexes, reared in 
 England in one generation, would hardly much exceed, probably 
 would fall short of, the number of their parents : in a new 
 colony, they are likely to be four or five times as numerous. 
 Whether, therefore, these are better than their parents, is not 
 the question; but whether they are the best population with 
 which we could stock the country — whether it be wise to save 
 for seed the worst plants — whether they are better than 
 none at all — and whether, if they are, the advantage is worth 
 purchasing at such a cost as that of holding out a bonus to 
 criminals, and consequently shaking the very foundations of 
 social order. 
 
 But to return to the consideration of the actual convicts : we 
 are inclined to think that transportation is looked to not so much 
 with a sanguine hope of their reform, as with a view to the 
 getting rid of them. Now supposing we could (which is not 
 possible) clear the kingdom at once of all criminals, by ship- 
 ping them off to New South Wales, and that every sentence of 
 transportation were for life, (which should clearly be the case if 
 riddance be our object,) still the country would be no gainer un- 
 less we got rid of the crimes as well as the individual criminals ; 
 and this could never be done unless the transportation were a 
 dreaded punishment. For it is not to be imagined that thieves 
 are a distinct species, like wolves, so that if we could but exter- 
 minate them all, (as the Saxon king did our four-footed sheep- 
 stealers,) the breed would be extinct. "iHfrm" (says the legal 
 maxim) " is a wolf to man." While human nature remains, 
 property, as far as it is not protected by fear of punishment, will 
 ever offer a temptation to depredation. Fresh ofienders would 
 immediately arise ; not indeed corrupted by the example and in- 
 struction of those sent out of the country, but encouraged by 
 their impunity ; and thus we might go on till we had peopled 
 New Holland with rogues, without the least diminishing the 
 number at home. " Uno avulso non deficit alter." To think of 
 diminishing crime by simply removing the criminals, without 
 
268 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 holding out an eflfectual terror to future oSenders, is like under- 
 taking to empty a lake by baling out the water, -without stopping 
 the river which flows into it. Now the existing system exactly 
 corresponds with the above supposition, except in two points : 
 first, that as we cannot transport all, or nearly all offenders, 
 there are always enough left at home to train successive genera- 
 tions of tiros in villainy ; and, secondly, that as most sentences 
 of transportation are only for a term of years, we do not effectu- 
 ally get rid even of those who are sent out. We do indeed get 
 rid for ever of such of them as are disposed to lead a reformed 
 life ; they seldom fail to become settlers ; but the most incor- 
 rigible are sure to return. So that this system of " riddance " 
 not only fails of its object, but, by a kind of whimsical perver- 
 sity, fails precisely in the instances in which its success is most 
 desired. 
 
 Some writers express wonder and alarm at the increase of 
 crime : we wish they were more alarmed, and less astonished ; to 
 us, the wonder is, that crimes do not increase much faster ; and 
 we look forward with gi*eat alarm to the continuance of the 
 present system, as one likely to bear its poisonous fruits in con- 
 tinually greater abundance and perfection as it advances toward 
 maturity of growth. 
 
 Having now arrived at our conclusions, by an analytical ex- 
 amination of the subject, it is time that we should compare them 
 with those of the Select Committee, whose Report we have men- 
 tioned at the head of this Article. In this comparison we regret 
 to find a most essential difference, between the Report and our 
 own views. In regard to transportation for fourteen, and for 
 seven years, the views of the Committee may be said to coincide 
 with ours ; but the coincidence is more of detail than of principle. 
 Their objection to the former term of years is that " for those 
 who dread the loss of their native country, it gives a hope of 
 return, which greatly diminishes the value of the punishment.' 
 With this they couple the consideration that " the returned 
 transport is generally a very abandoned character, and he usually 
 returns to his old criminal society, thus forming a link, as it 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 269 
 
 were, between the thieves at large, and the thieves under punish- 
 ment." (p. 14.) In regard to the shorter term of transportation, 
 " the Committee would be inclined to recommend that the punish- 
 ment should be abolished;" but as some convicts had lately been 
 sent to Bermuda, and the result of the experiment was as yet 
 unknown, they thought proper to suspend their judgment. Of 
 transportation commuted into labour on board the hulks, the Com- 
 mittee expressed their disapprobation, at least in its present state, 
 on account of the lightness of the labour enforced, and the want 
 of separation between the different sorts of criminals. 
 
 But the approbation which the Committee give to transpor- 
 tation for life, is most positive and unqualified. 
 
 " Transportation for life is an excellent punishment in certain 
 cases. Where a man has made crime his habit and profession, where 
 he has become the chief, or a member of a band of thieves, and has 
 no resource on his return from imprisonment but to herd with the 
 same gang, and pursue the same practices, it is both mercy and jus- 
 tice to spare his life, and to remove him to a distant colony, where he 
 may first afford an example of punishment by hard labour, and by 
 degrees lose his vicious propensities in a new state of society. — 
 Much has been said of the advantages enjoyed by the convicts in 
 New South Wales, and the little effect which the punishment in- 
 spires. Still there are numbers to whom the notion of being ban- 
 ished for life, with several years of convict labour in addition, is 
 very formidable, nor would it be wise to abandon such a punish- 
 ment." (p. 14.) 
 
 No power of argument, or even demonstration, can avail 
 against such decisions. The Committee's conclusion amounts to 
 this : much has been said against transportation for life, but 
 still "it is an excellent punishment." Experience seems to 
 prove that the threat of such a punishment inspires no fear; 
 but " still there are numbers to whom it is formidable." To what 
 class the individuals belong who form these numbers, the Com- 
 mittee do not stop to enquire. The notion of banishment for 
 life, and convict labour, is far from being agreeable to them- 
 selves, and on the strength of this feeling they assert the exist- 
 ence of numbers to whom this notion is formidable. How the 
 
270 
 
 TRANSPORTATION, 
 
 Committee are prepared to prove that it has that effect on that 
 sort of men in relation to whom they ought to have settled the 
 question — how either from reasoning or experience they can 
 show that a man who has made crime his habit and profession, 
 who has become the chief or a member of a band of thieves, which 
 in ninety-nine out of a hundred cases is the effect of his not be- 
 ing able to subsist by labour as hard and much more hopeless 
 than that with which he is threatened — how they are to per- 
 suade the world that such men are so attached to their native 
 soil as to dread the exchange of it for one more fertile, mild, and 
 cheerful — one besides of the same language as their own — one, 
 in fine, where, as far as country means any thing connected with 
 the intellectual and moral part of man, an Englishman will find 
 himself more- at home than if he were sent to many parts of 
 Ireland, or the Hebrides, we are at a loss to guess. 
 
 But we cannot take leave of the Committee without ad- 
 verting to the unsteadiness of their views in regard to any 
 standard by 'which to ascertain the usefulness of the punish- 
 ment which they were considering, and which they so strongly 
 recommended. The excellence of transportation for life, to 
 judge by their statement, consists, 1st. In the example of 
 punishment afforded by the temporary hard labour of the 
 convict ; 2ndly. In the probability that by degrees he will 
 " lose his vicious propensities in a new state of society." This 
 is a striking example of unphilosophical investigation. The 
 question is, whether transportation for life is good as a punish- 
 ment? Good in respect to what end of punishment? ought 
 to have been the first question, A glimpse of the true end, 
 prevention of crime, seems to have crossed the minds of the 
 Committee, and accordingly they endeavour to make out 
 transportation useful as an example. On finding this im- 
 practicable, they seize on an incidental circumstance of trans- 
 portation, i.e. hard labour, and on this they fasten their 
 conclusion. But it happens unfortunately for the argument, 
 that the hard labour, which, as we have observed, is a mere 
 incident in the case, wants every one of the circumstances 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 271 
 
 which are essential to useful example : it is not seen by those 
 •who should be .deterred ; it is an evil with which they are 
 familiar ; it cannot be much worse than the hard labour to 
 which they must submit if they abstain from crime ; and being 
 to their minds at an indefinite distance of time and space, it 
 loses in the gay hues of hope every harsh feature of punish- 
 ment. So much for example. The weakness of this argument 
 being probably felt by the Committee, they turned to the 
 usual resource in sucli cases — accumulation of reasons. If 
 removal for life to Botany Bay (they seem to say) should not 
 be found to act powerfully as an example, it is, at all events, 
 conducive to the reform of the convict. But what is the 
 ground of their hopes on this score ? The influence of a new 
 state of society. Now if a neiv state of society can have, any 
 chance in correcting vicious habits, its novelty must consist in 
 the removal of every thing that cherished the evil propensities, 
 and smothered the good ones, of the individual to be reformed. 
 One half, and perhaps more, of our worst characters would be 
 reformed, could they be placed among a set of virtuous and 
 industrious people, who, from their ignorance of the previous 
 misconduct of the strangers, should be ready to treat them 
 with kindness, and able to give them a share in their industry 
 and profits. But what is the new state of society to which the 
 convicts are removed ? What is there neio to them in their 
 place of exile, but what, if transportation is not to be a reward 
 instead of punishment, must necessarily increase their vicious- 
 ness? Are they not introduced into a society in which de- 
 pravity is the general rule, and honesty the exception ? Are 
 they not to be reduced to a kind of slavery, the greatest 
 corrupter of the human heart? Are they not to be branded 
 with a mark of infamy which even a thorough reformation, 
 supported by ^11 the influence of the first authority of the 
 country, can never remove ? Let any one who doubts it, read 
 the parliamentary report on the state of New South Wales, 
 and he will find that the main source of all the disturbances 
 occasioned by the government of General Macquarie, was his 
 
272 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 leniency towards reformed convicts — his (as we think) benevo- 
 lent yet mistaken view of the penal end of transportation. It 
 is curious indeed to observe how two men, in bitter opposition 
 to each other, agree, though unawares, in furnishing proofs of 
 our position, that if convicts are treated in New South Wales, 
 as they must be if transportation is to be a punishment to them, 
 it is morally impossible that they should be reformed. 
 Commissioner Bigge observes very justly, that 
 
 " A propensity to violence of language and abuse, insensibly 
 becomes a habit in those to whom the irksome task is committed 
 of enforcing compulsory la])our, or wholesome restraint against 
 refractory and vicious men; such conduct indeed certainly has no 
 tendency to the improvement of a depraved character, and as 
 certainly debases and hardens the heart of others." — (p. 30.) 
 
 It is most true, and it has long been known both from 
 theory and experience, that slavery corrupts both the slave and 
 the master. Now take the picture drawn by General Macquarie. 
 
 " I have no doubt that many convicts who might have been ren- 
 dered useful and good men, had they been treated with humane and 
 reasonable control, have sunk into despondence by the unfeeUng 
 treatment of such masters ; and tl at many of those wretched men, 
 driven to acts of violence by hard usage, and who by a contrary 
 treatment might have been reformed, have betaken themselves to 
 the woods, where they can only subsist by plunder, and have 
 terminated their lives on the gallows ; but with every indulgence 
 that can reasonably be extended to convicts, transportation is far 
 from being a light sentence ; it is at best a state of slavery ; and 
 the fate of the convict, as to misery or comparative comfort, 
 depending on the will of his master, the constant sense of degrada- 
 tion and loss of liberty is a severe punishment, which has no 
 remission while he is in a state of bondage." — (lb. p. 31.) 
 
 The natural, inevitable inference from these statements is, 
 that the improvement of such convicts as are generally trans- 
 ported, is incompatible with an adequate punishment of their 
 crimes : so that the additional reason adduced by the Committee 
 to prop up their lame defence of transportation as punishment, 
 namely the probability of reform, excludes, and is mutually 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 273 
 
 excluded by that argument which it was meant to support. It 
 is like the advice of a physician who prescribed ice to his 
 patient, and then, fearing that might be too cold a remedy, sug- 
 gested, as an improvement, that it should be warmed. 
 
 But what is to become of the colony, on which we have 
 already expended so much, if we cease thus to supply it with 
 labourers at the public expense ? It would be a pity to check 
 its rising prosperity, to which convict labour so much contributes. 
 
 "Nothing, in fact," (says Mr. Cunningham,) "ever created 
 greater dismay among us, than the announcement, some two years 
 ago, of a project for the future disposal of convict labour in the fur- 
 therance of government works at home, and in other colonies in pre- 
 ference to this ; while our colonial wags still occasionally delight 
 to work upon our fears, by propagating alarming reports of the 
 increasing morality of the people of Great Britain, or of the 
 lightness of the last jail-deliveries there — reports which the 
 visitor to England will soon find q%dte destitute of foundation." 
 (Vol. i. p. 12.) 
 
 Aristotle long since remarked this principle — the high value 
 set on any thing that has cost much ; which is recognised in the 
 proverbial expression of " throwing good money after bad." 
 And so powerful is this principle, that if we were not prepared 
 to point out a mode of much more effectually benefiting the 
 colony by a different procedure, we should almost despair of 
 obtaining a fair hearing for the reasons against the present 
 system. And yet the object of affording aid to the settlers is 
 clearly and confessedly subordinate to the main one — the pre- 
 vention of crime. Indeed, the colony was first settled with a 
 view to that very object ; so that it would evidently be an absurd 
 inconsistency, when that object is found not to be promoted, to 
 continue sacrificing the end to the means ; first to found a 
 colony for the sake of transporting convicts, and then (folloioing 
 our own footsteps) to transport convicts for the sake of the 
 colony. We remember an old country squire, who kept a number 
 of horses, and, of course, a great many servants to look after 
 them. For the last forty years of his life he never rode ; but 
 W. E. T 
 
274 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 he still kept the horses, to find employment for his servants in 
 exercising and grooming them ! 
 
 To adhere to a system which cherishes, or at least does not 
 keep down, violations of the laws here, in order that we may be 
 enabled to keep up a supply of useful labourers for New South 
 Wales, is the same sort of economy which Swift recommends in 
 his "directions to the groom," for the benefit of his master's 
 service, viz. to " fill the horses' rack with hay to the top, 
 though perhaps they may not have the stomach to eat ; if the 
 hay he thrown dvwn, there is no loss, for it will make Utter, and 
 save straw." 
 
 In the present instance, however, the spoiled hay does not 
 appear even to make good litter. The Emancipists, as they are 
 called — those who have come out as convicts, are described, in 
 an extract already given, as for the most part idle, unthrifty 
 settlers ; and the currency, those born in the colony, are repre- 
 sented as generally preferring a seafaring life, having the odious 
 associations of crime and slavery connected with agricidtural 
 pursuits ; a feeling perfectly natural under such circumstances, 
 but the very last one we would wish to find in a colony. This 
 particular disadvantage was not especially pointed out, among 
 the rest, by Bacon; but the system has, on other accounts, 
 his decided disapprobation. " It is," says he, " a shameful and 
 unblessed thing to take the scum of people and wicked con- 
 demned men to be the people with whom you plant." One of 
 the results, not, we apprehend, originally contemplated, is that 
 these " wicked condemned men," have planted for themselves 
 several volunteer-colonies ; escaping in small craft, either to the 
 South Sea Islands, (in many of which, for a good while past, 
 each native chief has for a prime minister some choice graduate 
 of the university of Newgate,) or, more frequently, to some 
 part of the coast of New Holland, or some of the small islands 
 at a little distance from the main, particularly one called Kan- 
 garoo Island ; where they settle, and subsist chiefly on wild 
 animals ; especially seals, whose skms and oil form a profit- 
 able article of trafiic with the small traders from the mother- 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 275 
 
 colony. Several more of these lawless settlements are supposed 
 to exist besides those generally known; as it is clearly the 
 interest of the above-mentioned traders, when they discover 
 such a one, to keep the knowledge to themselves, for the sake 
 of monopolizing the commerce. A most profitable trade they 
 of course find it ; as their customers are not only willing to 
 pay an enormous price in oil for the luxuries of rum and 
 tobacco, but when once intoxicated, are easily stripped of all. 
 Another article, it seems, has been found more profitable in this 
 trade than even rum ; viz. women ; who, if kidnapped at 
 Botany Bay, and carried off" to one of these settlements, will 
 sell for a whole ocean of seal oil ! This infernal traiBc was 
 betrayed bj the wreck of a vessel, from which, in consequence, 
 two women, who had been thus carried off from Sydney, made 
 their escape, and it is to be hoped put others on their guard 
 against the detestable fate designed for them. These volunteer 
 settlers, however, it seems, resort to another expedient to supply 
 themselves with wives: viz. seizing on the native black women, 
 after, we presume, knocking on the head the males of the 
 tribe. 
 
 " At Kangaroo Island, on our southern coast, about four hundred 
 miles to the west of Bass Straits, a settlement of this kind has long 
 existed, as I have before mentioned ; (by the latest accoimts, this 
 settlement contains a population of forty individuals, — men, women, 
 and children ;) the men having reached that point by coasting along 
 in boats, and having seized and carried off native women. During 
 the seal season they live upon the coast, feasting upon the seal-flesh 
 which their wives procure for them ; and on the season being over, 
 retire to their village, built in a valley in the interior, and subsist 
 upon the produce of their gardens and what game they can destroy. 
 They lead a most slothful, idle life, obliging their women to perform 
 all the drudgery, but occasionally assisting vessels calling there to 
 load with salt, which is found covering the bed of a lagoon six 
 inches deep; and bartering their seal-skins for rum, tea, sugar, 
 and so forth, with the crews. The senior individual upon the 
 settlement is named Abyssinia, and has lived there fourteen years 
 and upwards. Various islands in Bass Straits are also peopled in 
 like manner ; Flinder's Island, according to the latest accounts, 
 
 T 3 
 
276 
 
 TRANSPORTATION, 
 
 containing twenty, including women and children." ( Txvo Tears in 
 New South Wales, vol. ii. p. 203.) 
 
 So that we may hope in time to have the coast of New 
 South Wales, suri'ounded by a fringe, as it were, of colonies of 
 half-castes, consisting of a mixture of the blood of the most 
 debased of savages, with that of the more refined and intelligent 
 scoundrels of civilized society ; and exhibiting, we may antici- 
 pate, a curious specimen of the worst possible form of human 
 nature. And thus it is that we are proceeding to people Aus- 
 tralia. The land is certainly planted, but it is planted with the 
 worst of weeds, according to the ingenious experiment suggested 
 in the Tempest for Prospero's Island — 
 
 " Gmzalo. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord 
 
 Antonio. He'd sow it with nettle seed." 
 
 " But all these," we have heard it replied, " are merely 
 incidental evils; they are no part of the design." If this 
 means merely that no system should be at once con- 
 demned solely because some incidental evils are connected with 
 it, as some must be with every system, in this we heartily 
 concur. Navigation is a good thing, although ships are occa- 
 sionally wrecked, and men drowned. But if it be meant that 
 incidental evils are, on that ground, to be totally disregarded, 
 and left out of calculation, the best mode we can think of for 
 disabusing one who holds such an opinion, is, that he should 
 take up his abode next door to a soap-boiler, with a brazier on 
 the other side of his house, a slaughter-house over the way, and 
 a store of gunpowder in the vaults beneath him ; being ad- 
 monished at the same time to remember that if his eyes, nose, 
 and ears are incessantly annoyed, and he is ultimately blown 
 up, these are only incidental evils. 
 
 But we must hasten to redeem our pledge of pointing out 
 (which our limits warn us must be done in a very few and brief 
 hints) a mode of even improving the situation of the colony 
 without this every-way-objectionable supply of convicts. The 
 persons we would have sent out (we would not have it called 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 277 
 
 transportation ) are able-bodied paupers ; those who are capable 
 and desirous of labour, but cannot get employment, or not 
 sufficient to maintain a family without parish aid. These are 
 precisely the description of persons to whom a colony, with a 
 practically-boundless extent of territory, is best suited ; because 
 there, a moderate degree of industry will furnish a more 
 abundant subsistence, and a better security agamst future want, 
 than the most severe and unremitting toil in a full-peopled 
 state ; and because a large family is there an aid instead of a 
 burden, and a source, not of gloomy anxiety, but of cheering 
 anticipations. Many a man so circumstanced, and provided for 
 in the way here suggested, would probably be one, who, under 
 the present system, would ultimately have found his way, in 
 another character, to Botany Bay ; but not till after having 
 yielded to the temptations arising from distress, he had been led 
 on, step by step, to the commission of crimes which would have 
 gone far to disqualify him for becoming a useful settler. Had 
 the system recommended been pursued from the beginning, 
 many of the same colonists would have now been there who are 
 there now ; with the diflference of an unstained character and 
 undepraved disposition ; with those evils, in short, prevented, 
 which we are now, too often in vain, labouring to cure. And 
 no one who was reduced to apply to the Public for relief, 
 could complain of its being bestowed in the mode most con- 
 venient to the public. The community would say to these 
 persons, " we do not force, or even ask you to leave your 
 country ; stay and welcome, if you can maintain yourself by 
 your labour at home ; but if you cannot, it is both allowable 
 and kind to send you to a place where you can." And as there 
 would be no compulsion to go, so there would be no prohibition 
 of return ; if, as would probably sometimes happen, a man 
 should, in the course of years, have realized enough to place 
 him above want in his own country, and he had a desire to end 
 his days in it. Only, every such emigrant should be made, in 
 the eye of the law, a native of that country (whether New 
 Holland, Canada, or the Cape — for we would not confine the 
 
278 
 
 TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 ' system to any one colony) to which he had been conveyed at the 
 public expense. He should, if he chose to return, have no claim 
 to parochial relief. 
 
 One objection has been suggested to us, which, though at first 
 sight formidable, will admit, in theory at least, of a ready 
 answer : it is, that such a measure as we are recommending 
 should be preceded by a repeal of the corn -laws ; on the ground 
 that it is unreasonable to send a man to earn his bread in a 
 foreign land, who could earn it at home, if you would let him 
 buy it as cheaply as others would be willing to supply it. This 
 is not the place for discussing the question of the corn-laws; 
 but it is sufl5cient for the present purpose that it should be 
 admitted, which is surely undeniable, that they either are, or 
 are not necessary for the imhlic welfare ; that if they are not, 
 then, however profitable they may be to any individuals, they 
 ought at any rate to be altered ; and that if they are a public 
 benefit, no one has a right to complain of being obliged to sub- 
 mit to the consequences of them. 
 
 But what shall we do with the convicts ? This is a question 
 truly important, but of which the full discussion does not seem 
 necessary, if the foregoing conclusions be admitted as established. 
 If what we now hold out as a punishment be proved to be in 
 some cases a very inadequate punishment, in more, a reward, 
 that is surely a sufficient reason for beginning to turn our 
 thoughts towards the adoption of some system of punishment, 
 and of effectual punishment; though we may not be able at 
 once to point out which is the most effectual. 
 
 The traveller, whose case we adverted to in the opening of 
 this article, when he discovered that he was riding in a circle, 
 was not probably able to decide at once which was his best road ; 
 but he did not, we imagine, for that reason continue contentedly 
 to follow his own track, round and round ; it was plain he was 
 going wrong, whichever way might be right. 
 
 But, in fact, it cannot be said that we should be even for 
 I a moment utterly at a loss how to dispose of criminals, should 
 actual transportation be discontinued ; since, as it is, a majority 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 279 
 
 of those sentenced to it do not actually undergo it. And of all 
 the substitutes that have been resoi'ted to, unequal as their re- 
 commendations may be, we will venture to say the very worst is 
 is far less objectionable, in many respects, than actual trans- 
 portation. 
 
 With respect to every sentence of confinement to hard labour, 
 whether at the tread-wheel, or of any other kind, we would 
 venture to suggest what we cannot but consider as a most 
 important improvement, viz, that instead of a certain period 
 of time, a convict should be sentenced to go through a certain 
 quantity of work. We mean that a computation should be 
 made of the average number of miles for instance which a man 
 sentenced to the tread-wheel would be expected to walk in 
 a week ; and that then, a sentence of so many iveeks'- labour 
 should be interpreted to mean, so many miles ; the convict to be 
 released when, and not before, he had " dreed his weird ;" whether 
 he chose to protract or to shorten the time of his penance. In 
 the same manner he might be sentenced to beat so many 
 hundred weight of hemp; dig a ditch of such and such di- 
 mensions, &c. ; always exacting some labour of all prisoners, 
 and fixing a minimum sufficiently high to keep up the notion 
 of hard labour, but leaving them at liberty as to the amount of 
 it above the fixed daily task. The great advantage resulting 
 would be, that criminals, whose habits probably had previously 
 been idle, would thus be habituated not only to labour, but to 
 form some agreeable association with the idea of labour. Every 
 step a man took in the tread -wheel, he would be wjulking out of 
 prison ; every stroke of the spade would be cutting a passage for 
 restoration to society. 
 
 Among other kinds of penal labour, we would hint at one not 
 much different from the best kind of employment of the trans- 
 ported convicts, viz. the draining, paring, and burning, and 
 otherwise fitting for cultivation, of the Irish peat-bogs ; not with 
 a view, however, to their being afterwards settled by the con- 
 victs ; as it would be easy to people the territory thus reclaimed 
 with far better colonists, and with such as would ultimately 
 
280 
 
 TEANSPORTATION. 
 
 prove of eminent service to that country^ We are aware that 
 in most instances the land thus reclaimed would not be worth 
 the cost of the labour bestowed on it, were that labour to be 
 hired ; but that is not the question : if worth any thing, that 
 worth would be all clear gain. The convicts must be maintained 
 at the public expense, even though kept in idleness. Though 
 their work, therefore, should amount to less than their main- 
 tenance, it is yet desirable that it should diminish that public 
 expense, which it is insufficient to cover. The first object is penal 
 labour; the next point is, that that labour should be at least of 
 some use. And if the expense of a four months' voyage to New 
 South Wales be taken into the calculation, it will probably be 
 found that every acre cleared by convict-labour there, costs the 
 public many times more than an acre reclaimed from an Irish 
 peat-bog, which is thenceforward of many times greater value to 
 the country. And it is to be observed, that all the principal 
 bogs in Ireland (amounting, it is supposed, to between one and 
 two millions of acres) are capable of being not only drained, 
 but brought into a state of great productiveness. Peat contains 
 abundance of vegetable matter, the main material of fertility, 
 but is barren through its constant wetness, its spongy texture, 
 want of decomposition, absence of a sufficient mixture of earthy 
 matter, and the occasional presence of sulphate of iron. This 
 last, which is poisonous to vegetation, is decomposed, and ren- 
 dered salutary by the addition of lime, which also is a powerful 
 decomposer of vegetable fire ; gravel, sand, or clay, in fact 
 any earthy substance, forms a most effectual and permanent 
 manure for peaty land; at once decomposing its parts, and 
 giving firmness to the soil. And in most cases such a manure 
 is at hand ; most peat-bogs resting on a clayey substratum. We 
 are ourselves acquainted with a peat-bog in Yorkshire, which, 
 after draining, was converted into good corn-land, at the ex- 
 perise of seven pounds per acre, by overspreading the surface 
 with clay, which was found at the depth of six feet. 
 
 ' On this subject, see some remarks (with most of which we fully coincide, 
 though not with all) in a Letter to Mr. Malthus, in No. 17 of the Pamphleteer. 
 
TRANSPORTATION. 
 
 281 
 
 But wlietlier this, or any other scheme of penal labour be 
 thought worth trying, or whether in any, or in all instances, 
 corporal chastisement should be considered preferable, there 
 are two important conclusions which we think both reason and 
 experience will fully warrant, and which we hope to see prac- 
 tically admitted : 1st, That the particular kind of punishment 
 allotted to each offence should be as far as possible fixed, and 
 known with certainty beforehand, in order that the execution of 
 the sentence may at least furnish an experiment, and may serve 
 to guide our judgment as to its eflBcacy : — 2ndly, That we should 
 not be too anxious to accomplish several objects at once; but 
 keep steadily in view the main purpose of penal legislation, lest 
 we sacrifice that, in the pursuit of subordinate objects, and lose 
 sight of the prevention of crime, in the midst of our schemes for 
 reclaiming hardened villains and Australian forests'. 
 
 ' This article was reprinted nearly 
 thirty years ago in a letter to Earl Grey ; 
 and some years after, I published the 
 substance of a speech on the same sub- 
 ject. To some persons it may seem 
 
 strange that a system should have been 
 so long adhered to, which was, as Mr. 
 Senior has justly observed, " begun in 
 defiance of all reason, and maintained 
 in defiance of all experience." 
 
III. 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 Northanger Ahhey, and Persuasion. By the Author of "Sense 
 and Sensibility," " Pride and Prejudice," " Mansfield Park," 
 and " Emma." 4 vols. New Edition. 
 
 The times seem to be past when an apology was requisite 
 from reviewers for condescending to notice a novel ; when they 
 felt themselves bound in dignity to deprecate the suspicion of 
 paying much regard to such trifles, and pleaded the necessity of 
 occasionally stooping to humour the taste of their fair readers. 
 The delights of fiction, if not more keenly or more generally 
 relished, are at least more readily acknowledged by men of 
 sense and taste ; and we have lived to hear the merits of the 
 best of this class of writings earnestly discussed by some of the 
 ablest scholars and soundest reasoners of the present day. 
 
 We are inclined to attribute this change, not so much to an 
 alteration in the public taste, as in the character of the pro- 
 ductions in question. Novels may not, perhaps, display more 
 genius now than formerly, but they contain more solid sense ; 
 they may not afford higher gratification, but it is of a nature 
 which men are less disposed to be ashamed of avowing. We 
 remarked, in a former Number', in reviewing a work of the 
 author now before us, that " a new style of novel has arisen, 
 within the last fifteen or twenty years, difi"ering from the former 
 in the points upon which the interest hinges ; neither alarming 
 our credulity nor amusing our imagination by wild variety of 
 incident, or by those pictures of romantic affection and sensi- 
 bility, which wei'e formerly as certain attributes of fictitious 
 characters as they are of rare occurrence among those who 
 actually live and die. The substitute for these excitements, 
 
 ' The Article was by Sir Walter Scott. 
 
MOPERN NOVELS, 
 
 283 
 
 which had lost much of their poignancy by the repeated and 
 injudicious use of them, was the art of copying from nature 
 as she really exists in the common walks of life, and pre- 
 senting to the reader, instead of the splendid scenes of an 
 imaginary world, a correct and striking representation of what 
 is daily taking place around him." 
 
 Now, though the origin of this new school of fiction may 
 probably be traced, as we there suggested, to the exhaustion of 
 the mines from which materials for entertainment had been 
 hitherto extracted, and the necessity of gratifying the natural 
 craving of the reader for variety, by striking into an untrodden 
 path ; the consequences resulting from this change have been 
 far greater than the mere supply of this demand. When this 
 Flemish painting, as it were, is introduced — this accurate and 
 unexaggerated delineation of events and characters — it neces- 
 sarily follows, that a novel, which makes good its pretensions of 
 giving a perfectly correct picture of common life, becomes a far 
 more instructive work than one of equal or superior merit of the 
 other class ; it guides the judgment, and supplies a kind of arti- 
 ficial experience. It is a remark of the great father of criticism, 
 that Poetry {i.e. narrative, and dramatic poetry) is of a more 
 philosophical character than History ; inasmuch as the latter 
 details what has actually happened, of which many parts may 
 chance to be exceptions to the general rules of probability, 
 and consequently illustrate no general principles ; whereas the 
 former shows us what must naturally, or would probably, 
 happen under given circumstances ; and thus displays to us a 
 comprehensive view of human nature, and furnishes general 
 rules of practical wisdom. It is evident, that this will apply 
 only to such fictions as are quite perfect in respect of the pro- 
 bability of their story ; and that he, therefore, who resorts 
 to the fabulist rather than the historian, for instruction in 
 human character and conduct, must throw himself entirely on 
 the judgment and skill of his teacher, and give him credit for 
 talents much more rare than the accuracy and veracity which 
 are the chief requisites in history. We fear, therefore, that 
 
284 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 the exultatiou which we can conceive some of our gentle readers 
 to feel, at having Aristotle's warrant for (what probably they 
 had never dreamed of) the philosophical character of their 
 studies, must, in practice, be somewhat qualified, by those 
 sundry little violations of probability which are to be met with 
 in most novels ; and which so far lower their value, as models 
 of real life, that a person who had no other pi'eparation for 
 the world than is afibrded by them, would form, probably, a 
 less accurate idea of things as they are, than he would of 
 a lion from studying merely the representations on China tea- 
 pots. 
 
 Accordingly, a heavy complaint has long lain against works 
 of fiction, as giving a false picture of what they profess to 
 imitate, and disqualifying their readers for the ordinary scenes 
 and every-day duties of life. And this charge applies, we 
 apprehend, to the generality of what are strictly called novels, 
 with even more justice than to romances. When all the charac- 
 ters and events are very far removed from what we see around 
 us, — when, perhaps, even supernatural agents are introduced, 
 the reader may indulge, indeed, in occasional day-dreams, but 
 will be so little reminded of what he has been reading, by any 
 thing that occurs in actual life, that though he may perhaps feel 
 some disrelish for the tameness of the scene before him, com- 
 pared with the fairy-land he has been visiting, yet at least his 
 judgment will not be depraved, nor his expectations misled ; he 
 will not apprehend a meeting with Algerine banditti on English 
 shores, nor regard the old woman who shows him about an 
 antique country seat, as either an enchantress or the keeper of 
 an imprisoned damsel. But it is otherwise with those fictions 
 which differ from common life in little or nothing but the 
 improbability of the occurrences : the reader is insensibly led to 
 calculate upon some of those lucky incidents and opportune 
 coincidences of which he has been so much accustomed to read, 
 and which, it is undeniable, may take place in real life ; and to 
 feel a sort of confidence, that however romantic his conduct 
 may be, and in whatever difiiculties it may involve him, all will 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 285 
 
 be sure to come right at last, as is invariably the case with the 
 hero of a novel. 
 
 On the other hand, so far as these pernicious eflFects fail to 
 be produced, so far does the example lose its influence, and the 
 exercise of poetical justice is rendered vain. The reward of 
 virtuous conduct being brought about by fortunate accidents, 
 he who abstains (taught, perhaps, by bitter disappointments) 
 from reckoning on such accidents, wants that encouragement to 
 virtue, which alone has been held out to him. " If I were a 
 man in a novel," we remember to have heard an ingenious friend 
 observe, "I should certainly act so and so, because I should be 
 sure of being no loser by the most heroic self-devotion, and of 
 ultimately succeeding in the most daring enterprises." 
 
 It may be said, in answer, that these objections apply only 
 to the unskilful novelist, who, from ignorance of the world, gives 
 an unnatural representation of what he professes to delineate. 
 This is partly true, and partly not ; for there is a distinction to 
 be made between the unnatural and the merely improbable : a 
 fiction is unnatural when there is some assignable reason against 
 the events taking place as described, — when men are represented 
 as acting contrary to the character assigned them, or to human 
 nature in general ; as when a young lady of seventeen, brought 
 up in ease, luxury, and retirement, with no companions but the 
 narrow-minded and illiterate, displays (as a heroine usually 
 does) under the most trying circumstances, such wisdom, forti- 
 tude, and knowledge of the world, as the best instructors and 
 the best examples can rarely produce without the aid of more 
 mature age and longer experience. — On the other hand, a fiction 
 is still improbable, though not unnatural, when there is no reason 
 to be assigned why things should not take place as represented, 
 except that the overbalance of chances is against it ; the hero 
 meets, in his utmost distress, most opportunely, with the very 
 person to whom he had formerly done a signal service, and who 
 happens to communicate to him a piece of intelligence which 
 sets all to rights. Why should he not meet him as well as any 
 one else ? all that can be said is, that there is no reason why he 
 
286 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 Btould. The infant who is saved from a wreck, and who after- 
 wards becomes such a constellation of virtues and accomplish- 
 ments, turns out to be no other than the nephew of the very 
 gentleman, on whose estate the waves had cast him, and whose 
 lovely daughter he had so long sighed for in vain : there is no 
 reason to be given, except from the calculation of chances, why 
 he should not have been thrown on one part of the coast as well 
 as another. Nay, it would be nothing unnatural, though the 
 most determined novel-reader would be shocked at its improba- 
 bility, if all the hero's enemies, while they were conspiring his 
 ruin, were to be struck dead together by a lucky flash of light- 
 ning : yet many denouements which are decidedly unnatural, 
 are better tolerated than this would be. 
 
 We shall, perhaps, best explain our meaning by examples, 
 taken from a novel of great merit in many respects. When 
 Lord Glenthorn, in whom a most unfavourable education has 
 acted on a most unfavourable disposition, after a life of torpor, 
 broken only by short sallies of forced exertion, on a sudden re- 
 verse of fortune, displays at once the most persevering diligence 
 in the most repulsive studies, and in middle life, without any 
 previous habits of exertion, any hope of early business, or the 
 example of friends, or the stimulus of actual want, to urge 
 him, outstrips every competitor, though every competitor has 
 every advantage against him ; this is unnatural. — When Lord 
 Glenthorn, the instant he is stripped of his estates, meets, falls 
 in love with, and is conditionally accepted by the very lady 
 who is remotely intitled to those estates ; when, the instant 
 he has fulfilled the conditions of their marriage, the family of 
 the person possessed of the estates becomes extinct, and by the 
 concurrence of circumstances, against every one of which the 
 chances were enormous, the hero is re-instated in all his old 
 domains ; this is merely improbable. 
 
 The distinction which we have been pointing out may be 
 plainly perceived in the events of real life ; when any thing takes 
 place of such a nature as we should call, in a fiction, merely im- 
 probable, because there are many chances against it, we call it 
 a lucky or unlucky accident, a singular coincidence, something 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 287 
 
 very extraordinary, odd, curious, &c. ; whereas any thing which, 
 in a jSction, would be called unnatural, when it actually occurs, 
 (and such things do occur,) is still called unnatural, inexpli- 
 cable, unaccountable, inconceivable, &c., epithets which are not 
 applied to events that have merely the balance of chances 
 against them. 
 
 Now, though an author who understands human nature is 
 not likely to introduce into his fictions any thing that is un- 
 natural, he will often have much that is improbable : he may 
 place his personages, by the intervention of accident, in striking 
 situations, and lead them through a course of extraordinary 
 adventures ; and yet,- in the midst of all this, he will keep up 
 the most perfect consistency of character, and make them act as 
 it would be natural for men to act in such situations and circum- 
 stances. Fielding's novels are a good illustration of this : they 
 display great knowledge of mankind ; the characters are well 
 preserved ; the persons introduced all act as one would naturally 
 expect they should, in the circumstances in which they are 
 placed; but these circumstances are such as it is incalculably 
 improbable should ever exist : several of the events, taken 
 singly, are much against the chances of probability ; but the 
 combination of the whole in a connected series, is next to im- 
 possible. 
 
 Even the romances which admit a mixture of supernatural 
 agency, are not more unfit to prepare men for real life, than 
 such novels as these; since one might just as reasonably 
 calculate on the intervention of a fairy, as on the train of lucky 
 chances which combme first to involve Tom Jones in his difiicul- 
 ties, and afterwards to extricate him. Perhaps, indeed, the 
 supernatural fable is of the two not only (as we before remarked) 
 the less mischievous in its moral efi"ects, but also the more 
 correct kind of composition in point of taste : the author lays 
 down a kind of hypothesis of the existence of ghosts, witches, or 
 fairies, and professes to describe what would take place under 
 that hypothesis ; the novelist, on the contrary, makes no de- 
 mand of extraordinary machinery, but professes to describe 
 what may actually take place, according to the existing laws of 
 
288 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 human affairs : if he therefore present us vrith a series of events 
 quite unlike any which ever do take place, we have reason to 
 complain that he has not made good his professions. 
 
 When, therefore, the generality, even of the most approved 
 novels, were of this character, (to say nothing of the heavier 
 charges brought, of inflaming the passions of young persons by 
 warm descriptions, weakening their abhorrence of profligacy by 
 exhibiting it in combination with the most engaging qualities, 
 and presenting vice in all its allurements, while setting forth the 
 triumphs of" virtue rewarded") it is not to be wondered that 
 the grave guardians of youth should have generally stigmatized 
 the whole class, as " serving only to fill young people's heads 
 with romantic love-stories, and rendering them unfit to mind 
 any thing else." That this censure and caution should in many 
 instances be indiscriminate, can surprise no one, who recollects 
 how rare a quality discrimination is; and how much better it 
 suits indolence, as well as ignorance, to lay down a rule, than to 
 ascertain the exceptions to it. We are acquainted with a careful 
 mother, whose daughters, while they never in their lives read a 
 novel of any kind, are permitted to peruse, without reserve, any 
 plays that happen to fall in their way ; and with another, from 
 whom no lessons, however excellent, of wisdom and piety, con- 
 tained in a prose-fiction, can obtain quarter ; but who, on the 
 other hand, is no less indiscriminately indulgent to her children 
 in the article of tales in verse, of whatever character. 
 
 The change, however, which we have already noticed, as 
 having taken place in the character of several modern novels, 
 has operated in a considerable degree to do away this pre- 
 judice ; and has elevated this species of composition, in some 
 respects at least, into a much higher class. For most of that 
 instruction which used to be presented to the world in the 
 shape of formal dissertations, or shorter and more desultory 
 moral essays, such as those of the Spectator and Rambler, 
 we may now resort to the pages of the acute and judicious, but 
 not less amusing, novelists who have lately appeared. If their 
 views of men and manners are no less just than those of the 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 289 
 
 essayists who preceded them, are they to be rated lower because 
 they present to us these views, not in the language of general 
 description, but in the form of well-constructed fictitious 
 narrative? If the practical lessons they inculcate are no 
 less sound and useful, it is surely no diminution of their merit 
 that they are conveyed by example instead of precept : nor, if 
 their remarks are neither less wise nor less important, are they 
 the less valuable for being represented as thrown out in the 
 course of conversations suggested by the circumstances of the 
 speakers, and perfectly in character. The praise and blame 
 of the moralist are surely not the less effectual for being 
 bestowed, not in general declamation, on classes of men, but 
 on individuals representing those classes, who are so clearly 
 delineated and brought into action before us, that we seem to 
 be acquainted with them, and feel an interest in their fate. 
 
 Biography is allowed, on all hands, to be one of the most 
 attractive and profitable kinds of reading : now such novels as 
 we have been speaking of, being a kind of fictitious biography, 
 bear the same relation to the real, that epic and tragic Poetry, 
 according to Aristotle, bear to History : they present us (sup- 
 posing, of course, each perfect in its kind) with the general, in- 
 stead of the particular, — the probable, instead of the true ; and, 
 by leaving out those accidental irregularities, and exceptions to 
 general rules, which constitute the many improbabilities of real 
 narrative, present us with a clear and abstracted view of the 
 general rules themselves ; and thus concentrate, as it were, into 
 a small compass, the net result of wide experience. 
 
 Among the authors of this school there is no one superior, 
 if equal, to the lady whose last production is now before us, 
 and whom we have much regret in finally taking leave of : her 
 death (in the prime of life, considered as a writer) being 
 announced in this the first publication to which her name is 
 prefixed. We regret the failure not only of a source of innocent 
 amusement, but also of that supply of practical good sense and 
 instructive example, which she would probably have continued 
 w. E. u 
 
^90 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 to furnish better than any of her contemporaries : — Miss Edge- 
 worth, indeed, draws characters and details conversations, such 
 as they occur in real life, with a spirit and fidelity not to be 
 surpassed; but her stories are most romantically improbable, 
 (in the sense above explained,) almost all the important events 
 of them being brought about by most providential coincidences ; 
 and this, as we have already remarked, is not merely faulty, 
 inasmuch as it evinces a want of skill in the writer, and gives 
 an air of clumsiness to the fiction, but is a very considerable 
 drawback on its practical utility; the personages either of 
 fiction or history being then only profitable examples, when 
 their good or ill conduct meets its appropriate reward, not from 
 a sort of independent machinery of accidents, but as a necessary 
 or probable result, according to the ordinary course of affairs. 
 Miss Edgeworth also is somewhat too avowedly didactic. That 
 seems to be true of her, which the French critics, in the 
 extravagance of their conceits, attributed to Homer and Virgil ; 
 viz., that they first thought of a moral, and then framed a 
 fable to illustrate it. She would, we think, instruct more suc- 
 cessfully, and she would, we ai'e sure, please more frequently, 
 if she kept the design of teaching more out of sight, and did 
 not so glaringly press every circumstance of her story, prin- 
 cipal or subordinate, into the service of a principle to be incul- 
 cated, or information to be given. A certain portion of moral 
 instruction must accompany every well- invented narrative. 
 Virtue must be represented as producing, at the long run, 
 happiness ; and vice, misery ; and the accidental events, that 
 in real life interrupt this tendency, are anomalies which, though 
 true individually, are as false generally as the accidental de- 
 formities which vary the average outline of the human figure. 
 They would be as much out of place in a fictitious narrative, 
 as a wen in an academic model. But any direct attempt at 
 moral teaching, and any attempt whatever to give scientific 
 information will, we fear, unless managed with the utmost dis- 
 I cretion, interfere with what, after all, is the immediate and 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 291 
 
 peculiar object of the novelist, as of the poet, to please. K 
 instructioa do not join as a volunteer, she will do no good 
 service. Miss Edge worth's novels put us in mind of those 
 clocks and.watches which arc condemned '* a double or a treble 
 debt to pay :" which, besides their legitimate object to show 
 the hour, tell you the day of the month or the week, give you 
 a landscape for a dial-plate, with the second hand forming the 
 sails of a windmill, or have a barrel to play a tune, or an 
 alarum to remind you of an engagement : all very good things 
 in their way; but so it is that these watches never tell the time 
 so well as those in which that is the exclusive object of the 
 maker. Every additional movement is an obstacle to the 
 original design. We do not deny that we. have learned much 
 physic, and much law, from Patronage, particularly the lat- 
 ter, for Miss Edgeworth's law is of a very original kind ; 
 but it was not to learn law and physic that we took up the 
 book, and we suspect we should have been more pleased if we 
 had been less taught. With regard to the influence of religion, 
 which is scarcely, if at all, alluded to in Miss Edgeworth's 
 novels, we would abstain from pronouncing any decision which 
 should apply to her personally. She may, for aught we know, 
 entertain opinions which would not permit her, with consistency, 
 to attribute more to it than she has done ; in that case she 
 stands acquitted, in foro conscientice, of wilfully suppressing 
 any thing which she acknowledges to be true and important ; 
 but, as a writer, it must still be considered as a blemish, in the 
 eyes at least of those who think differently, that virtue should 
 be studiously inculcated with scarcely any reference to what 
 they regard as the main spring of it; that vice should be 
 traced to every other source except the want of religious prin- 
 ciple ; that the most radical change from worthlessness to ex- 
 cellence should be represented as wholly independent of that 
 agent which they consider as the only one that can accomplish 
 it ; and that consolation under aflBiction should be represented 
 as derived from every source except the one which they look 
 
 u 3 
 
292 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 to as the only true and sure one : " is it not "because there is no 
 God in Israel that ye have sent to inquire of Baalzebub the Grod 
 of Ekron?" 
 
 Miss Austin has the merit (in our judgment most essen- 
 tial) of being evidently a christian writer: a merit which is 
 much enhanced, both on the score of good taste, and of practical 
 utility, by her religion being not at all obtrusive. She might 
 defy the most fastidious critic to call any of her novels, (as 
 Coelebs was designated, we will not say altogether without rea- 
 son,) a " dramatic sermon." The subject is rather alluded to, 
 and that incidentally, than studiously brought forward and 
 dwelt upon. In fact she is more sparing of it than would be 
 thought desirable by some persons; perhaps even by herself, had 
 she consulted merely her own sentiments ; but she probably in- 
 troduced it as far as she thought would be generally acceptable and 
 profitable : for when the purpose of inculcating a religious prin- 
 ciple is made too palpably prominent, many readers, if they do 
 not throw aside the book with disgust, are apt to fortify them- 
 selves with that respectful kind of apathy with which they un- 
 dergo a regular sermon, and prepare themselves as they do to 
 swallow a dose of medicine, endeavouring to get it down in large 
 gulps, without tasting it more than is necessary. 
 
 The moral lessons also of this lady's novels, though clearly 
 and impressively conveyed, are not offensively put forward, but 
 spring incidentally from the circumstances of the story ; they 
 are not forced upon the reader, but he is left to collect them 
 (though without difficulty) for himself : her's is that unpretend- 
 ing kind of instruction which is furnished by real life ; and cer- 
 tainly no author has ever conformed more closely to real life, as 
 well in the incidents, as in the characters and descriptions. Her 
 fables appear to us to be, in their own way, nearly faultless ; 
 they do not consist (like those of some of the writers who have 
 attempted this kind of common-life novel writing) of a string of 
 unconnected events which have little or no bearing on one main 
 plot, and are introduced evidently for the sole purpose of bring- 
 ing in characters and conversations ; but have all that compact- 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 293 
 
 ness of plan and unity of action which is generally produced by 
 a sacrifice of probability : yet they have little or nothing that 
 is not probable ; the story proceeds without the aid of extraor- 
 dinary accidents ; the events which take place are the necessary 
 or natural consequences of what has preceded ; and yet (which 
 is a very rai-e merit indeed) the final catastrophe is scarcely ever 
 clearly foreseen from the beginning, and very often comes, upon 
 the generality of readers at least, quite unexpected. We know 
 not whether Miss Austin ever had access to the precepts of 
 Aristotle ; but there are few, if any, writers of fiction who have 
 illustrated them more successfully. 
 
 The vivid distinctness of description, the minute fidelity of 
 detail, and air of unstudied ease in the scenes represented, which 
 are no less necessary than probability of incident, to carry the 
 reader's imagination along with the story, and give fiction the 
 perfect appeai-ance of reality, she possesses in a high degree ; 
 and the object is accomplished without resorting to those devia- 
 tions from the ordinary plan of narrative in the third person, 
 which have been patronized by some eminent masters. We al- 
 lude to the two other methods of conducting a fictitious story, 
 viz. either by narrative in the first person, when the hero is 
 made to tell his own tale, or by a series of letters ; both of 
 which we conceive have been adopted with a view of heighten- 
 ing the resemblance of the fiction to reality. At first sight, in- 
 deed, there might appear no I'eason why a story told in the first 
 person should have more the air of a real history than in the 
 third ; especially as the majority of real histories actually are in 
 the third person. Nevertheless, experience seems to show that 
 such is the case. Provided there be no want of skill in the 
 writer, the resemblance to real life, of a fiction thus conducted, 
 will approach much the nearest (other points being equal) to a 
 deception, and the interest felt in it, to that which we feel in real 
 transactions. We need only instance Defoe's Novels, which, in 
 spite of much improbability, we believe have been oftener mis- 
 taken for true narratives, than any fictions that ever were com- 
 posed. Colonel Newport is well known to have been cited as an 
 
294 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 historical authority ; and we have ourselves found great diffi- 
 culty in convincing many of our friends that Defoe was not 
 himself the citizen, who relates the plague of London. The 
 reason probably is, that in the ordinary form of narrative, the 
 writer is not content to exhibit, like a real historian, a bare de- 
 tail of such circumstances as might actually have come under 
 his knowledge ; but presents us with a description of what is 
 passing in the minds of the parties, and gives an account of their 
 feelings and motives, as well as their most private conversations 
 in various places at once. All this is very amusing, but per- 
 fectly unnatural : the merest simpletort could hardly mistake a 
 fiction of this kind for a true history, unless he believed the 
 writer to be endued with omniscience and omnipresence, or to be 
 aided by familiar spirits, doing the ofBce of Homer's Muses, 
 whom he invokes to tell him all tliat could not otherwise be 
 known ; 
 
 " Tfitig yap Seoi tare, irapiaTt re, tare Tt iravra." 
 
 Let the events, therefore, which are detailed, and the characters 
 described, be never so natural, the way in which they are pre- 
 sented to us is of a kind of supernatural cast, perfectly unlike 
 any real history that ever was or can be written, and thus re- 
 quiring a greater stretch of imagination in the reader. On the 
 other hand, the supposed narrator of his own history never pre- 
 tends to dive into the thoughts and feelings of the other parties; 
 he merely describes his own, and gives his conjectures as to 
 those of the rest, just as a real autobiographer might do ; and 
 thus an author is enabled to assimilate his fiction to reality, 
 without withholding that delineation of the inward workings of 
 the human heart, which is so much coveted. Nevertheless 
 novels in the fii'st person have not succeeded so well as to make 
 that mode of writing become very general. It is objected to 
 them, not without reason, that they want a hero : the person in- 
 tended to occupy that post being the narrator himself, who of 
 course cannot so describe his own conduct and character as to 
 make the reader thoroughly acquainted with him ; though the 
 attempt frequently produces an offensive appearance of egotism. 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 296 
 
 The plan of a fictitious correspondence seems calculated in 
 some measure to combine the advantages of the other two; since, 
 by allowing each personage to be the speaker in turn, the feel- 
 ings of each may be described by himself, and his character and 
 conduct by another. But these novels are apt to become ex- 
 cessively tedious; since, to give the letters the appearance of 
 reality, (without which the main object proposed would be de- 
 feated,) they must contain a very large proportion of matter 
 which has no bearing at all upon the story. There is also 
 generally a sort of awkward disjointed appearance in a novel 
 which proceeds entirely in letters, and holds together, as it were, 
 by continual splicing. 
 
 Miss Austin, though she has in a few places introduced let- 
 ters with great effect, has on the whole conducted her novels 
 on the ordinary plan, describing, without scruple, private con- 
 versations, and uncommunicated feelings : but she has not been 
 forgetful of the important maxim, so long ago illustrated by 
 Homer, and afterwards enforced by Aristotle^, of saying as 
 little as possible in her own person, and giving a dramatic air 
 to the narrative, by introducing frequent conversations ; which 
 she conducts with a regard to character hardly exceeded even 
 by Shakspeare himself. Like him, she shows as admirable a 
 discrimination in the characters of fools as of people of sense ; 
 a merit which is far from common. To invent, indeed, a 
 conversation full of wisdom or of wit, requires that the writer 
 should himself possess ability ; but the converse does not hold 
 good : it is no fool that can describe fools well ; and many 
 who have succeeded pretty well in painting superior characters, 
 have failed in giving individuality to those weaker ones, 
 which it is necessai-y to introduce in order to give a faithful 
 representation of real life. They exhibit to us mere folly in the 
 abstract, forgetting that to the eye of a skilful naturalist the 
 insects on a leaf present as wide differences as exist between the 
 elephant and the lion. Slender, and Shallow, and Aguecheek, 
 
 ' tidtv ariBcc. Ariet. Poet. 
 
296 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 as Sliakspeare has painted them, though equally fools, resemble 
 one another no more than Richard, and Macbeth, and Julius 
 Caesar; and Miss Austin's Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Rushworth, and 
 Miss Bates, are no more alike than her Darcj, Knightley, and 
 Edmund Bertram. Some have complained, indeed, of finding 
 her fools too much like nature, and consequently tiresome. There 
 is no disputing about tastes ; all we can say is, that such critics 
 must (whatever deference they may outwardly pay to received 
 opinions) find the Merry Wives of Windsor and Twelfth Night 
 very tiresome; and that those who look with pleasure at 
 Wilkie's pictui-es, or those of the Dutch school, must admit that 
 excellence of imitation may confer attraction on that which 
 would be insipid or disagreeable in the reality. 
 
 Her minuteness of detail has also been found fault with ; but 
 even where it produces, at the time, a degree of tediousness, we 
 know not whether that can justly be reckoned a blemish, which 
 is absolutely essential to a very high excellence. Now, it is 
 absolutely impossible, without this, to produce that thorough 
 acquaintance with the characters, which is necessary to make the 
 reader heartily interested in them. Let any one cut out from 
 the Iliad, or from Shakspeare's plays, every thing (we are far 
 from saying that either might not lose some parts with advan- 
 tage, but let him reject everything) which is absolutely devoid 
 of importance and of interest in itself; and he will find that 
 what is left will have lost more than half its charms. We are 
 convinced that some writers have diminished the efiect of their 
 works by being scrupulous to admit nothing into them which had 
 not some absolute, intrinsic, and independent merit. They have 
 acted like those who strip off the leaves of the fruit tree, as 
 being of themselves good for nothing, with the view of securing 
 more nourishment to the fruit, which in fact cannot attain its 
 full maturity and flavour without them. 
 
 Mansfield Park contains some of Miss Austin's best moral 
 lessons, as well as her most humorous descriptions. The follow- 
 ing specimen unites both : it is a sketch of the mode of education 
 adopted for the two Miss Bertrams, by their aunt Norris, whose 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 297 
 
 father, Sir Thomas, has just admitted into his family a poor 
 niece, Fanny Price (the heroine), a little younger, and much 
 less accomplished than his daughters. 
 
 " ' Dear Mamma, only think, my cousin cannot put the map of 
 Europe together — or my cousin cannot tell the principal rivers in 
 Russia — or she never heard of Asia Minor — or she does not know 
 the difference between water-colors and crayons I — How strange ! — 
 Did you ever hear any thing so stupid ? ' 
 
 " ' My dear,' their considerate aunt would reply ; ' it is very bad, 
 but you must not expect everybody to be as forward and quick at 
 learning as yourself 
 
 • " ' But, aunt, she is really so very ignorant ! — Do you know, we 
 asked her last night, which way she would go to get to Ireland : and 
 she said she should cross to the Isle of Wight. She thinks of nothing 
 but the Isle of Wight, and she calls it the Island, as if there were 
 no other island in the world. I am sure I should have been ashamed 
 of myself, if I had not known better long before I was so old as she 
 is I cannot remember the time when I did not know a great deal 
 that she has not the least notion of yet. How long ago it is, aunt, 
 since we used to repeat the chronological order of the kings of 
 England, with the dates of their accession, and most of the principal 
 events of their reigns ! ' 
 
 " ' Yes,' added the other ; 'and of the Roman emperors as low 
 as Severus ; besides a great deal of the Heathen Mythology, and aU 
 the Metals, Semi-Metals, Planets, and distinguished philosophers.' 
 
 " ' Very true indeed, my dears, but you are blessed with wonder- 
 ful memories, and your poor cousin has probably none at all. There 
 is a vast deal of difference in memories, as well as in every thing 
 else, and therefore you must make allowance with your cousin, and 
 pity her deficiency. And remember that, if you are ever so forward 
 and clever yourselves, you should always be modest ; for, much as 
 you know already, there is a great deal more for you to learn.' 
 
 " ' Yes, I know there is, till I am seventeen. But I must tell 
 you another thing of Fanny, so odd, and so stupid. Do you know, 
 she says she does not want to learn either music or drawing.' 
 
 " ' To be sure, my dear, that is very stupid indeed, and shows a 
 great want of genius and emulation. But all things considered, I 
 do not know whether it is not as well that it should be so, for, 
 though you know (omng to me) your papa and mamma are so good as 
 to bring her up with you, it is not at all necessary that she should 
 be as accomplished as you are ; — on the contrary, it is much more 
 desirable that there should be a difference.' " — p. 33. 
 
- 298 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 The character of Sir Thomas is admirably drawn ; one of 
 those men who always judge rightly, and act wisely, when a case 
 is fairly put before them ; but who are quite destitute of acute- 
 ness of discernment and adroitness of conduct. The Miss 
 Bertrams, without any peculiarly bad natural disposition, and 
 merely with that selfishness, self-importance, and want of moral 
 training, which are the natural result of their education, are 
 conducted, by a train of probable circumstances, to a catastro- 
 phe which involves their father in the deepest affliction. It is 
 melancholy to reflect how many young ladies in the same sphere, 
 with what is ordinarily called every advantage in point of edu- 
 cation, are so precisely in the same situation, that if they avoid 
 a similar fate, it must be rather from good luck than any thing 
 else. The care that is taken to keep from them every thing in 
 the shape of affliction, prevents their best feelings from being 
 exercised ; and the pains bestowed on their accomplishments, 
 raises their idea of their own consequence : the heart becomes 
 hard, and is engrossed by vanity with all its concomitant vices. 
 Mere moral and religious instruction are not adequate to correct 
 all this. But it is a shame to give in our own language senti- 
 ments which are so much better expressed by Miss Austin. 
 
 " Sir Thomas too late became aware how unfavourable to the 
 character of any young people, must be the totally opposite treatment 
 which Maria and Julia had been always experiencing at home, 
 where the excessive indulgence and flattery of their aunt had been 
 continually contrasted with his own severity. He saw how ill he 
 had judged, in expecting to counteract what was wrong in Mrs. 
 Non is, by its reverse in himself ; clearly saw that he had but in- 
 creased the evil, by teaching them so to repress their spirits in his 
 presence, as to make their real disposition unknown to him, and 
 sending them for all their indulgences to a person who had been 
 able to attach them only by the blindness of her affection and the 
 excess of her praise. 
 
 " Here had been grii'vous mismanagement ; but, bad as it was, 
 he gradually grew to feel that it had not been the most direful 
 mistake in his plan of education. Something must have been want- 
 ing within, or time would have worn away much of its ill effect. 
 He feared that principle, active principle, had been wanting, that 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 299 
 
 they had never been properly taught to govern their inclinations 
 and tempers, by that sense of duty which can alone suffice. They 
 had been instructed theoretically in their religion, but never re- 
 quired to bring it into daily practice. To be distinguished for 
 elegance and accomplishments — the authorised object of their youth 
 — could have had no useful influence that way, no moral effect on 
 the mind. He had meant them to be good, but his cares had been 
 directed to the understanding and manners, not the disposition; 
 and of the necessity of self-denial and humility, he feared they had 
 never heard from any lips that could profit them. 
 
 " Bitterly did he deplore a deficiency which now he could 
 scarcely comprehend to have been possible. Wretchedly did he 
 feel, that with all the cost and care of an anxious and expensive 
 education, he had brought up his daughters, without their under- 
 standing their first duties, or his being acquainted with their cha- 
 racter and temper." — vol. iii. pp. 330 — 332, 
 
 Edmund Bertram, the second son, a sensible and worthy 
 young man, is captivated by a Miss Crawford, who, with her 
 brother, is on a visit at the Parsonage with her half-sister, Mrs. 
 Grant : the progress of his passion is very happily depicted : 
 
 " Miss Crawford's attractions did not lessen. The harp arrived, 
 and rather added to her beauty, wit, and good -humour, for she 
 played with the greatest obligingness, with an expression and taste 
 which were peculiarly becoming, and there was something clever to 
 be said at the close of every air. Edmund was at the parsonage 
 every day to be indulged with his favourite instrument ; one morn- 
 ing secured an invitation for the next, for the lady could not 
 be unwilling to have a listener, and every thing was soon in a fair 
 train. 
 
 "A young woman, pretty, lively, with a harp as elegant as 
 herself ; and both ])laced near a window, cut down to the ground, 
 and opening on a little lawn, surrounded by shrubs in the rich 
 foliage of summer, was enough to catch any man's heart. The 
 season, the scene, the air, were all favourable to tenderness and 
 sentiment." — vol. i. pp. 132, 133. 
 
 He is, however, put in doubt as to her character, by the occa- 
 sional levity of her sentiments, and her aversion to his intended 
 profession, the church, and to a retired life. Both she and her 
 brother are very clever, agreeable, and good-humoured, and not 
 without moral taste, (for Miss Austin does not deal in fiends and 
 
300 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 angels,) but brought up without strict principles, and desti- 
 tute of real self-denjing benevolence. The latter falls in love 
 ■with Fannj Price, whom he had been originally intending to 
 flirt with for his own amusement. She, however, objects to his 
 principles; being not satisfied with religious belief and practice 
 in herself, and careless about them in her husband. In this 
 respect she presents a useful example to a good many modern 
 females, whose apparent regard for religion in themselves, and 
 indiiference about it in their partners for life, make one some- 
 times inclined to think that they hold the opposite extreme to 
 the Turk's opinion, and believe men to have no souls. Her 
 uncle. Sir Thomas, however, who sees nothing of her objection, 
 is displeased at her refusal ; and thinking that she may not 
 sufiSciently prize the comforts of wealth to which she has been 
 so long accustomed, without the aid of contrast, encourages her 
 paying a visit to her father, a Captain Price, of the Marines, 
 settled with a large family at Portsmouth. She goes, accom- 
 panied by her favourite brother William, with all the fond 
 recollections, and bright anticipations", of a visit after eight 
 years' absence. 
 
 With a candour very rare in a novelist, Miss Austin de- 
 scribes the remedy as producing its effect. After she has spent 
 a month in the noise, privations, and vulgarities of home, Mr. 
 Crawford pays her a visit of a couple of days ; after he was 
 gone, 
 
 " Fanny was out of spirits all the rest of the day. Though 
 tolerably secure of not seeing Mr. Crawford again, she conld not 
 help being low. It was parting with somebody of the nature of a 
 friend ; and though in one light glad to have him gone, it seemed 
 as if she was now deserted by everybody ; it was a sort of renewed 
 separation from Mansfield ; and she could not think of his returning 
 to town, and being frequently with Mary and Edmund, without 
 feelings so near akin to envy, as made her hate herself for having 
 them. 
 
 " Her dejection had no abatement from any thing passing 
 around her ; a friend or two of her father's, as always happened 
 if he was not with them, spent the long, long evening there ; and 
 from six o'clock to half-past nine, there was little intermission of 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 301 
 
 noise or grog. She was very low. The wonderful improvement 
 which she still fancied in Mr. Cra\vford, was the nearest to admin- 
 istering comfort of any thing within the current of her thoughts. 
 Not considering in how different a circle she had been just seeing 
 him, nor how much might be owing to contrast, she was quite 
 persuaded of his being astonishingly more gentle, and regardful of 
 others, than formerly. And if in little things, must it not be so in 
 great ? So anxious for her health and comfort, so very feeling as 
 he now expressed himself, and really seemed, might not it be fairly 
 supposed, that he would not much longer persevere in a suit so 
 distressing to her ? " — vol. iii. pp. 224, 225. 
 
 Fanny is, however, armed against Mr. Crawford by a stronger 
 feeling than even her disapprobation ; by a vehement attachment 
 to Edmund. The silence in which this passion is cherished — the 
 slender hopes and enjoyments by which it is fed — the restlessness 
 and jealousy with which it fills a mind naturally active, con- 
 tented and unsuspicious — the manner in which it tinges every 
 event and every reflection, are painted with a vividness and a 
 detail of which we can scarcely conceive any one but a female, 
 and we should almost add, a female writing from recollection, 
 capable. 
 
 To say the truth, we suspect one of Miss Austin's gi-eat 
 merits in our eyes to be, the insight she gives us into the pecu- 
 liarities of female character. Authoresses can scarcely ever 
 forget the esprit de corps — can scarcely ever forget that they are 
 authoresses. They seem to feel a sympathetic shudder at ex- 
 posing naked a female mind. JSUes se peignent en busfe, and 
 leave the mysteries of womanhood to be described by some in- 
 terloping male, like Richardson or Marivaux, who is turned out 
 before he has seen half the rites, and is forced to spin from his 
 own conjectures the rest. Now from this fault Miss Austin is 
 free. Her heroines are what one knows women must be, though 
 one never can get them to acknowledge it. As liable to " fall 
 in love first," as anxious to attract the attention of agreeable 
 men, as much taken with a striking manner, or a handsome 
 face, as unequally gifted with constancy and firmness, as liable 
 to have their affections biassed by convenience or fashion, as 
 
302 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 we on on our part, will admit men to be. As some illustration 
 of what we mean, we refer our readers to the conversation 
 between Miss Crawford and Fanny, vol. iii. p. 102. Fanny's 
 meeting with her father, p. 199, her reflections after reading 
 Edmund's letter, 246, her happiness (good, and heroine though 
 she be) in the midst of the misery of all her friends, when she 
 finds that Edmund has decidedly broken with her rival ; feelings, 
 all of them, which, under the influence of strong passion, must 
 alloy the purest mind, but with which scarcely any authress 
 but Miss Austin would have ventured to temper the setherial 
 materials of a heroine. 
 
 But we must proceed to the publication of which the title is 
 prefixed to this Article. It contains, it seems, the earliest and 
 the latest productions of the author ; the first of them having 
 been purchased, we are told, many years back by a bookseller, 
 •who, for some reason unexplained, thought proper to alter his 
 mind and withhold it. We do not much applaud his taste; 
 for though it is decidedly inferior to her other works, havmg 
 less plot, and what there is, less artificially wrought up, and also 
 less exquisite nicety of moral painting ; yet the same kind of 
 excellences which characterise the other novels may be perceived 
 in this, in a degree which would have been highly creditable to 
 most other writers of the same school, and which would have 
 entitled the author to considerable praise, had she written 
 nothing better. 
 
 We already begin to fear, that we have indulged too much 
 in extracts, and we must save some room for Persuasion, or we 
 could not resist giving a specimen of John Thorpe, with his horse 
 that cannot go less than ten miles an hour, his refusal to drive his 
 sister "because she has such thick ankles," and his sober con- 
 sumption of five pints of port a day ; altogether the best por- 
 trait of a species, which, though almost extinct, cannot yet be 
 quite classed among the Palaeotheria, the Bang-up Oxonian. 
 Miss Thorpe, the jilt of middling life, is, in her way, quite as 
 good, though she has not the advantage of being the repre- 
 sentative of a rare or a diminishing species. We fear few of 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 303 
 
 our readers, however much they may admire the naivete, will 
 admit the truth of poor John Morland's postscript, "I caa 
 never expect to know such another woman." 
 
 The latter of these novels, however, Persuasion, which is 
 more strictly to be considered as a posthumous work, possesses 
 that superiority which might be expected from the more mature 
 age at which it was written, and is second, we think, to none of 
 the former ones, if not superior to all. In the humorous de- 
 lineations of character it does not abound quite so much as 
 some of the others, though it has great merit even on that score ; 
 but it has more of that tender and yet elevated kind of interest 
 which is aimed at by the generality of novels, and in pursuit of 
 which they seldom fail of running into romantic extravagance. 
 On the whole, it is one of the most elegant fictions of common 
 life we ever remember to have met with. 
 
 Sir Walter Elliot, a silly and conceited baronet, has three 
 daughters, the eldest two, unmarried, and the third, Mary, the 
 wife of a neighbouring gentleman, Mr. Charles Musgrove, heir 
 to a considerable fortune, and living in a genteel cottage in the 
 neighbourhood of the Great house which he is hereafter to in- 
 herit. The second daughter, Anne, who is the heroine, and the 
 only one of the family possessed of good sense, (a quality which 
 Miss Austin is as sparing of in her novels, as we fear her great 
 mistress, Nature, has been in real life,) when on a visit to her 
 sister, is, by that sort of instinct which generally points out 
 to all parties the person on whose judgment and temper they 
 may rely, appealed to in all the little family differences which 
 arise, and which are described with infinite spirit and detail. 
 
 The following touch reminds us, in its minute fidelity to 
 nature, of some of the happiest strokes in the subordinate parts 
 of Hogarth's prints : Mr. C. Musgrove has an aunt whom he 
 wishes to treat with becoming attention, but who, from being of 
 a somewhat inferior class in point of family and fashion, is 
 studiously shunned by his wife, who has all the family pride of 
 her father and eldest sister : he takes the opportunity of a walk 
 with a large party on a fine day, to visit this despised relation. 
 
304 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 but cannot persuade his wife to accompany him ; she pleads 
 fatigue, and remains with the rest to await his return ; and he 
 walks home with her, not much pleased at the incivility she has 
 shown. 
 
 " She (Anne Elliot) joined Charles and Mary, and was tired 
 enough to be very- glad of Charles's other arm; — but Charles, 
 though in very good humour with her, was out of temper with his 
 wife. Mary had shown herself disobliging to him, and was now to 
 reap the consequence, which consequence was his dropping her arm 
 almost every moment, to cut off the heads of some nettles in the 
 hedge with his switch ; and when Mary began to complain of it, 
 and lament her being ill-used, according to custom, in being on the 
 hedge side, while Anne was never incommoded on the other, he 
 dropped the arms of both to hunt after a weasel which he had a 
 momentary glance of ; and they could hardly get him along at 
 all."— vol. iii. pp. 211,212. 
 
 But the principal interest arises from a combination of events 
 which cannot be better explained than by a part of the pre- 
 fatory narrative, which forms, in general, an Euripidean pro- 
 logue to Miss Austin's novels. 
 
 " He was not Mr. Wentworth, the former curate of Monkford, 
 however suspicious appearances may be, but a Captain Frederick 
 Wentworth, his brother, who being made commander in conse- 
 quence of the action off St. Domingo, and not immediately employed, 
 had come into Somersetshire, in the summer of 1806 ; and having 
 no parent living, found a home for half a year, at Monkford. He 
 was, at that time, a remarkably fine young man, with a good deal 
 of intelligence, spirit, and brilliancy ; and Anne an extremely pretty 
 girl, with gentleness, modesty, taste, and feeling. Half the sum of 
 attraction, on either side, might have been enough; for lie had 
 nothing to do, and slie had hardly anybody to love ; but the 
 encounter of such lavish recommendations could not fail. They 
 were gradually acquainted, and when acquainted, rapidly and deeply 
 in love. It would be difficult to say which had seen highest per- 
 fection in the other, or which had been the happiest ; she in 
 receiving his declarations and proposals, or he in having them 
 accepted. 
 
 ; " A short period of exquisite felicity followed, and but a short 
 one. Troubles soon arose. Sir Walter, on being applied to, with- 
 out actually withholding bis consent, or saying it should never be. 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 305 
 
 gave it all the negative of great astonishment, great coldness, great 
 silence, and a professed resolution of doing nothing for his daughter. 
 He thought it a very degrading alliance ; and Lady Russell, though 
 with more tempered and pardonable pride, received it as a most 
 unfortunate one. 
 
 " Anne Elliot, with all her claims of birth, beauty, and mind, 
 to throw herself away at nineteen ; involve herself at nineteen in an 
 engagement with a young man, who had nothing but himself to 
 recommend him, and no hopes of attaining affluence, but in the 
 chances of a most uncertain profession, and no connexions to secure 
 even his further rise in that profession ; would be, indeed, a throw- 
 ing away, wliich she grieved to think of! Anne Elliot, so young ; 
 known to so few, to be snatched' off by a stranger without alliance 
 or fortune ; or rather sunk by him into a state of most wearing, 
 anxious, youth-killing dependence I It must not be, if by any fair 
 interference of friendship, any representations from one who had 
 almost a mother's love, and mother's rights, it could be prevented. 
 
 " Captain Wentworth bad no fortune. He had been lucky in 
 bis profession, but spending freely, what had come freely, had 
 realized nothing. But, he was confident that he should soon be 
 rich ; full of life and ardour, he knew that he should soon have a 
 ship, and soon be on a station that would lead to every thing he 
 wanted. He had always been lucky ; he knew he should be 
 so still. Such confidence, powerful in its own warmth, and be- 
 witching in the wit which often expressed it, must have been 
 enough for Anne ; but Lady Russell saw it very differently. His 
 sanguine temper, and fearlessness of mind, operated very differently 
 on her. She saw in it but an aggravation of the evil. It only 
 added a dangerous character to himself. He was brilliant, he was 
 headstrong. Lady Russell had little taste for wit ; and of any thing 
 approaching to imprudence a horror. She deprecated the connexion 
 in every light, 
 
 " Such opposition, as these feelings produced, was more than 
 Anne could combat. Young and gentle as she was, it might yet 
 have been possible to withstand her father's ill-will, though un- 
 softened by one kind word or look on the part of her sister ; but 
 Lady Russell, whom she had always loved and relied on, could not, 
 with such steadiness of opinion, and such tenderness of manner, 
 be continually advising her in vain. She was persuaded to be- 
 lieve the engagement a wrong thing — indiscreet, improper, hardly 
 capable of success, and not deserving it. But it was not a merely 
 selfish caution, under which she acted, in putting an end to it. 
 Had she not imagined herself consulting his good, even more than 
 
306 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 her own, she could hardly have given hira up. The belief of being 
 prudent, and self-denying principally for his advantage, was her 
 chief consolation, under the misery of a parting — a final parting ; 
 and every consolation was required, for she had to encounter all the 
 additional pain of opinions, on his side, totally unconvinced and un- 
 bending, and of his feeling himself ill-used by so forced a relin- 
 quishment. He had left the country in consequence. 
 
 " A few months had seen the beginning and the end of their 
 acquaintance ; but, not with a few months ended Anne's share of 
 suffering from it. Her attachment and regrets had, for a long 
 time, clouded every enjoyment of yoiith ; and an early loss of 
 bloom and spirits had been their lasting effect. 
 
 " More than seven years were gone since this little history of 
 sorrowful interest had reached its cl(5se ; and time had softened down 
 much, perhaps nearly all of peculiar attachment to him, — but she 
 had been too dependent on time alone ; no aid had been given in 
 change of place, (except in one visit to Bath soon after the rupture,) 
 or in any novelty or enlargement of society. No one had ever 
 come within the Kellynch circle, who could bear a comparison with 
 Frederick Wentworth, as he stood in her memory. No second 
 attachment, the only thoroughly natural, happy, and sufficient cure, 
 at her time of life, had been possible to the nice tone of her mind, 
 the fastidiousness of her taste, in the small limits of the society 
 around them. She had been solicited, when about two-and-twenty, 
 to change her name, by the young man, who not long afterwards 
 found a more willing mind in her younger sister ; and Lady 
 Eussell had lamented her refusal ; for Charles Musgrovc was the 
 eldest son of a man, whose landed property and general importance 
 were second, in that country, only to Sir Walter's, and of good 
 character and appearance ; and however Lady Russell might have 
 asked yet for something more, while Anne was nineteen, she w'ould 
 have rejoiced to see her at twenty-two, so respectably removed from 
 the partialities and injustice of her father's house, and settled so 
 permanently near herself. But in this case, Anne had left nothing 
 for advice to do ; and though Lady Russell, as satisfied as ever with 
 her own discretion, never wished the past undone, she began now 
 to have the anxiety, which borders on hopelessness, for Anne's 
 being tempted, by some man of talents and independence, to enter 
 a state for which she held her to be peculiarly fitted by her warm 
 affections and domestic habits. 
 
 " They knew not each other's opinion, either its constancy or 
 its change, on the one leading point of Anne's conduct, for the subject 
 was never alluded to, — but Anne, at seven-and-twenty, thought 
 
MODERN NOVELS, 
 
 307 
 
 very differently from what she had been made to think at nineteen. 
 • — She did not blame Lady Russell, she did not blame herself for 
 having been guided by her; but she felt that were any young 
 person, in similar circumstances, to apply to her for counsel, they 
 would never receive any of such certain immediate wretchedness, 
 such uncertain future good.— She was persuaded that, under every 
 disadvantage of disapprobation at home, and every anxiety attending 
 his profession, all their probable fears, delays, and disappointments, 
 she should yet have been a happier woman in maintaining the 
 engagement, than she had been in the sacrifice of it; and this, she 
 fully believed, had the usual share, had even more than a usual 
 share of all such solicitudes and suspense been theirs, without 
 reference to the actual results of their case, which, as it happened, 
 would have bestowed earlier prosperity than could be reasonably 
 calculated on. All his sanguine expectations, all his confidence, had 
 been justified. His genius and ardour had seemed to foresee and 
 to command his prosperous path. He had, very soon after their 
 engagement ceased, got employ ; and all that he had told her would 
 follow, had taken place. He had distinguished himself, and early 
 gained the other step in rank — and must now, by successive 
 captures, have made a handsome fortune. She had only navy 
 lists and newspapers for her authority, but she could not doubt 
 his being rich ; — and, in favour of his constancy, she had no reason 
 to believe him married. 
 
 " How eloquent could Anne Elliot have been, — how eloquent, 
 at least, were her wishes, on the side of early warm attachment, and 
 a cheerful confidence in futurity, against that over-anxious caution 
 which seems to insult exertion and distrust Providence ! — She had 
 been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as 
 she grew older — the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning." — 
 vol. iii. pp. 57 — 67. 
 
 After an absence of eight years, he returns to her neigh- 
 bourhood, and circumstances throw them frequently in contact. 
 Nothing can be more exquisitely painted than her feelings on 
 such occasions. First, dread of the meeting, — then, as that 
 is removed by custom, renewed regret for the happiness she 
 has thrown away, and the constantly recurring contrast, though 
 known only to herself, between the distance of their intercourse 
 and her involuntary sympathy with all his feelings, and instant 
 comprehension of all his thoughts, of the meaning of every 
 
 X 3 
 
808 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 glance of his eye, and curl of his lip, and intonation of his 
 voice. In him her mild good sense and elegance gradually 
 re-awake long-forgotten attachment : but with it return the 
 usual accompaniments of undeclared love, distrust of her senti- 
 ments towards him, and suspicions of their being favourable 
 to another. In this state of regretful jealousy he over! i ears, 
 •while writing a letter, a conversation she is holding with his 
 friend Captain Harville, respecting another naval friend, Captain 
 Benwick, who had been engaged to the sister of the former, 
 and very speedily after her death had formed a fresh engage- 
 ment : we cannot refrain from inserting an extract from this 
 conversation, which is exquisitely beautiful. 
 
 " ' Your feelings may be the strongest,' replied Anne, ' but the 
 same spirit of analogy will authorise me to assert that ours are the 
 most tender. INIan is more robust than woman, but he is not 
 longer-lived; which exactly explains my vievp of the nature of 
 their attachments. Nay, it would be too hard upon you, if it were 
 otherwise. You have difficulties, and privations, and dangers 
 enough to struggle with. You are always labouring and toiling, 
 exposed to every risk and hardship. Your home, country, friends, 
 all quitted. Neither time, nor health, nor life, to be called your 
 own. It would be too hard indeed' (with a faltering voice) 'if 
 woman's feelings were to be added to all this.' 
 
 " 'We shall never agree upon this question' — Captain Harville 
 ■was beginning to say, when a slight noise called their attention to 
 Captain Wentworth's hitherto perfectly quiet division of the room. 
 It was nothing more than that his pen had fallen down, but Anne 
 was startled at finding him nearer than she had supposed, and half 
 inclined to suspect that the pen had only fallen, because he had 
 been occupied by them, striving to catch sounds, which yet she 
 did not think he could have caught. 
 
 " ' Have you finished your letter?' said Captain Harville. 'Not 
 quite, a few lines more. I shall have done in five minutes.' 
 
 " ' There is no hurry on my side. I am only ready whenever 
 you are. — I am in very good anchorage here,' (smiling at 
 Anne) ' well supplied, and want for nothing. — No hurry for a 
 signal at all. — Well, j\Jiss Elliot,' (lowering his voice) 'as I was 
 jBaying, wo shall never agree I suppose upon this point. No 
 man and woman would, prol)ably. But let me observe that all 
 histories are against you, all stories, prose and verse. If I 
 
MODERN NOVELS, 
 
 309 
 
 had such a memory as Benwick, I could bring you fifty 
 quotations in a moment on my side the argument, and I do not 
 think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to 
 say upon woman's inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk of 
 woman's fickleness. But perhaps you will say, these were all writ- 
 ten by men.' 
 
 " ' Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to ex- 
 amples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their 
 own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree: 
 the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove 
 any thing.' 
 
 " ' But how shall we prove any thing ? ' 
 
 " ' We never shall. We never can expect to prove any thing 
 upon such a point. It is a difference of opinion which does not ad- 
 mit of proof. We each begin probably with a little bias towards 
 our own sex, and upon that bias build every circumstance in favour 
 of it which has occurred within our own circle ; many of which cir- 
 cumstances (perhaps those very cases which strike us the most) 
 may be precisely such as cannot be brought forward without betray- 
 ing a confidence, or in some respects saying what should not be 
 said.' 
 
 " ' Ah !' cried Captain Karville, in a tone of strong feeling, ' if I 
 could but make you comprehend what a man suffers when he takes 
 a last look at his wife and children, and watches the boat that he 
 has sent them off in, as long as it is in sight, and then turns away 
 and says, ' God knows whether we ever meet again !' And then, 
 if I could convey to you the glow of his soul when he does see 
 them again; when, coming back after a twelvemonth's absence 
 perhaps, and obliged to put into another port, he calculates how 
 soon it will be possible to get them there, pretending to deceive 
 himself, and saying, ' They cannot be here till such a day,' but all 
 the while hoping for them twelve hours sooner, and seeing them 
 arrive at last, as if Heaven had given them wings, by many hours 
 sooner still ! If I could explain to you all this, and all that a man 
 can bear and do, and glories to do, for the sake of these treasures of 
 his existence I I speak, you know, only of such men as have hearts!' 
 pressing his own with emotion. 
 
 " ' Oh !' cried Anne eagerly, ' I hope I do justice to all that is 
 felt by you, and by those who resemble you. God forbid that I 
 should undervalue the warm and faithful feelings of any of my 
 fellow-creatures. I should deserve utter contempt if I dared to 
 suppose that true attachment and constancy were known only by 
 woman. No, I believe you capable of every thing great and good 
 
310 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 in your married lives. I believe you equal to every important 
 exertion, and to every domestic forbearance, so long as — if I may 
 be allowed the expression, so long as you have an object. I mean, 
 while the woman you love lives, and lives for you. All the pri- 
 vilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one, you 
 need not covet it) is that of loving longest, when existence or when 
 hope is gone.' 
 
 " She could not immediately have uttered another sentence ; her 
 heart was too full, her breath too much oppressed." — vol. iv. pp. 263 
 —269. 
 
 While this conversation has been going on, he has been 
 replying to it on paper, under the appearance of finishing his 
 letter : he puts the paper into her hand, and hurries away. 
 
 " ' I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such 
 means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half 
 agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late ; that such precious 
 feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart 
 even more your own, than when you almost broke it eight years and 
 a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that 
 his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust 
 I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never incon- 
 stant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone I 
 think and plan. — Have you not seen this ? Can you fail to have 
 understood my wishes ? — I had not waited even these ten days, 
 could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated 
 mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something 
 which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish 
 the tones of that voice, when they would be lost on others. — Too 
 good, too excellent creature I You do us justice indeed. You do 
 believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. 
 Believe it to be most fervent, most uudeviating in 
 
 ' F. W.' " 
 
 We ventured, in a former Article, to remonstrate against the 
 dethronement of the once powerful God of Love, in his own 
 most especial domain, the novel ; and to suggest that, in shun- 
 ning the ordmary fault of recommending by examples a romantic 
 and uncalculating extravagance of passion, Miss Austin had 
 rather fallen into the opposite extreme of exclusively patronizing 
 what are called prudent matches, and too much disparaging 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 311 
 
 sentimental enthusiasm. We urged, that, mischievous as is the 
 extreme on this side, it is not the one into which the young 
 folks of the present day are the most likely to run : the pre- 
 vailing fault is not now, whatever it may have been, to sacrifice 
 all for love : 
 
 " Venit enim magnum donandi parca juventus, 
 Nec tantum Veneris quantum studiosa culinae." 
 
 We may now, without retracting our opinion, bestow- un- 
 qualified approbation ; for the distresses of the present heroine 
 all arise from her prudent refusal to listen to the suggestions 
 of her heart. The catastrophe however is happy, and we are 
 left in doubt whether it would have been better for her or not, 
 to accept the first proposal ; and this we conceive is precisely 
 the proper medium ; for, though we would not have prudential 
 calculations the sole principle to be regarded in marriage, we are 
 far from advocating their exclusion. To disregard the advice of 
 sober-minded friends on an important point of conduct, is an im- 
 prudence we would by no means recommend ; indeed, it is a spe- 
 cies of selfishness, if, in listening only to the dictates of passion, a 
 man sacrifices to its gratification the happiness of those most dear 
 to him as well as his own ; though it is not now-a-days the most 
 prevalent form of selfishness. But it is no condemnation of a 
 sentiment to say, that it becomes blameable when it interferes 
 with duty, and is uncontrouled by conscience ; the desire of 
 riches, power, or distinction, — the taste for ease and comfort, — 
 are to be condemned when they transgress these bounds ; and 
 love, if it keep within them, even though it be somewhat tinged 
 with enthusiasm, and a little at variance with what the worldly 
 call prudence, i.e. regard for pecuniary advantage, may afibrd 
 a better moral discipline to the mind than most other passions. 
 It will not at least be denied, that it has often proved a power- 
 ful stimulus to exertion where others have failed, and has called 
 forth talents unknown before even to the possessor. What, 
 though the pursuit may be fruitless, and the hopes visionary ? 
 The result may be a real and substantial benefit, though of 
 
312 
 
 MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 another kind ; the vineyard may have been cultivated by digging 
 in it for the treasure which is never to be found. What, though 
 the perfections with which imagination has decorated the be- 
 loved object, may, in fact, exist but in a slender degree ? still 
 they are believed in and admired as real ; if not, the love is 
 such as does not merit the name ; and it is proverbially true 
 that men become assimilated to the character {i.e. what they 
 tJiink the character) of the Being they fervently adore : thus, as 
 in the noblest exhibitions of the stage, though that which is 
 contemplated be but a fiction, it may be realized in the mind of 
 the beholder ; and, though grasping at a cloud, he may become 
 worthy of possessing a real goddess. Many a generous senti- 
 ment, and many a virtuous resolution, have been called forth 
 and matured by admiration of one, who may herself perhaps 
 have been incapable of either. It matters not what the object 
 is that a man aspires to be worthy of, and proposes as a model 
 for imitation, if he does but believe it to be excellent. More- 
 over, all doubts of success (and they are seldom, if ever, 
 entirely wanting) must either produce or exercise humility ; and 
 the endeavour to study another's interests and inclinations, and 
 prefer them to one's own, may promote a habit of general 
 benevolence which may outlast the present occasion. Every 
 thing, in short, which tends to abstract a man in any degree, or 
 in any way, from self, — from self-admiration and self-interest, 
 has, so far at least, a beneficial influence in forming the cha- 
 racter. 
 
 On the whole. Miss Austin's works may safely be recom- 
 mended, not only as among the most unexceptionable of their 
 class, but as combining, in an eminent degree, instruction with 
 amusement, though without the direct efibrt at the former, of 
 which we have complained, as sometimes defeating its object. 
 For those who cannot, or will not, learn any thing from produc- 
 tions of this kind, she has provided entertainment which entitles 
 her to thanks ; for mere innocent amusement is in itself a good, 
 when it interferes with no greater ; especially as it may occupy 
 the place of some other that may not be innocent. The Eastern 
 
MODERN NOVELS. 
 
 313 
 
 monarch who proclaimed a reward to him who should discover a 
 new pleasure, would have deserved well of mankind had he 
 stipulated that it should be blameless. Those, again, who 
 delight in the study of human nature, may improve in the 
 knowledge of it, and in the profitable application of that know- 
 ledge, by the perusal of such fictions as those before us. 
 
IV. 
 
 THE JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 1. Sceies of British Wealth, in Produce, Manufactures, and 
 Commerce, for the Amusement and Instruction of little Tarry- 
 al-Home Travellers. By the Rev. I. Taylor, Author of 
 " Scenes in England, Europe, Asia, Africa, and America." 
 2d Edit. 1825. 
 
 2. Grecian Stories. By Maria Hack. 2d Edit. 1828. 
 
 3. Familiar Illustrations of the Principal Evidences and Design 
 oj Christianity. By Maria Hack. 1824. 
 
 4. Conversations on the Life of Jesus Christ ; for the Use of 
 Children. By a Mother. 1828. 
 
 Of the many great and wonderful changes which the present 
 generation has witnessed, in almost every department of life, 
 literature, including under that term all the productions of the 
 press, has of course had its share; and in no description of 
 books, we conceive, has a greater alteration taken place, than in 
 those designed for the instruction and entertainment of children, 
 in what is popularly termed the Juvenile Library. The change 
 in the character of these books has been accompanied, perhaps 
 in a great measure produced, by a change in the general estimate 
 of their importance. To most of our readers accordingly, no 
 apology, we imagine, is needed for inviting their attention to 
 a subject which, a century back, would probably have been 
 thought beneath the dignity of grave criticism. Few persons 
 in the present day would admit, as our forefathers seem practi- 
 cally to have done, that any thing is good enough for children to 
 read, provided it be not of a directly immoral tendency ; or that 
 grammars, and other school-books, as they are called, are alone 
 worthy of serious attention ; while books of amu?ement for chil- 
 dren are a matter of as much indifference, as it is, whether they 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY, 
 
 315 
 
 divert themselves with tops or with hoops. The precept of the 
 poet, that maxima dehetur pueris reverentia, — that in the seed- 
 time of life it is of especial importance to have the land clean 
 and well dressed, — seems to be every day better understood. 
 No one, indeed, can ever have been ignorant, that the children 
 of this generation are the next generation itself; — that they are 
 the " to-morrow " of society. But it has hardly been sufficiently 
 considered, how much more important, because more permanent, 
 are the impressions, of whatever kind, which are made during 
 the season of intellectual and moral growth ; even as the body 
 may be deformed or crippled for life, by some comparatively 
 slight hurt in infancy. And still less have men in general con- 
 sidered the readiness to receive impressions which we have in 
 early life. It is a great mistake, often made in practice, if not 
 in theory, to suppose that a child's character, intellectual and 
 moral, is formed by those books only which we put into his 
 hands with that design. " Many things grow in the garden," 
 says the homely but true proverb, " which were never sown 
 there." When the principles are settled indeed, either for good 
 or for evil, — when the character of the man is matured, he may 
 often be occupied and interested for the time, in reading some- 
 thing which leaves no lasting impression ; but hardly any thing 
 can accidentally touch the soft clay, without stamping its mark 
 on it. Hardly any reading can interest a child, without contri- 
 buting in some degree, though the book itself be afterwards 
 totally forgotten, to form the character^ ; ^and the parents, there- 
 fore, who, mei'ely requiring from him a certain course of study, 
 pay little or no attention to " story-books," are educating him 
 they know not how. 
 
 The contrast which children's books now present, to those 
 which were thumbed by our fathers and ourselves, is more pal- 
 pably striking, perhaps, in the comparatively unimportant point 
 of typographical decoration. The plates, in particular, which 
 
 ' In many cases, we suspect, the democratical leaning communicated by Sand/ord 
 and Merton might be traced through life. 
 
316 
 
 JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 are now to be seen in most of the books designed for children, 
 are often very beautiful specimens of art. This improvement 
 is, no doubt, in a great degree attributable to the introduction 
 of engravings from steel, which, when the sale is great, can be 
 furnished, on account of the durable quality of the material, at 
 a low rate, even from the designs of eminent artists ; and some- 
 thing also is to be attributed to the improved state of the art of 
 engraving ; which appears, not so much in the superior excel- 
 lence of the best artists, as in the increased number of respect- 
 able ones. But, on the whole, the appearance of children's books 
 in general, in respect of paper, typography, and plates, con- 
 trasted with what satisfied our predecessors, is such as to indi- 
 cate both a great and a liberal demand for such books, as well 
 as an improvement in national taste : and one which is likely to 
 cultivate that taste, by fostering a turn for drawing. 
 
 By far the most important difference, however, is the more fre- 
 quent and skilful interweaving, both of scientific, and of moral and 
 religious instruction, with amusement, in the tales, dialogues, &c., 
 designed for children. It used to be generally thought sufficient 
 to teach children their catechism, together with certain collects 
 and psalms ; trusting to this alone, or principally, for the inculca- 
 tion of right principles and sentiments ; and leaving them to find 
 amusement in books, for the most part unmeaning or unpro- 
 fitable. Now we are far from advocating the system of putting 
 forward, very prominently, " the moral," in every work of fiction ; 
 especially such as are designed for the entertainment of adults. 
 Men are apt to be disgusted, more than profited, by a " dramatic 
 or narrative sermon." But it has been always admitted, that 
 works of fiction may be made conducive to higher purposes than 
 mere amusement ; and they are worse than unprofitable, if they 
 uniformly and totally exclude all reference to christian princi- 
 ples, and never display their application, or at least applicability, 
 to the affairs of common life ; if they represent every charac- 
 ter, the good as well as the bad, as acting from the impulse of 
 better or worse feelings alone, and never trace their goodness 
 or badness to the operation, or the want of christian principle. 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 317 
 
 For the prevailing error of those who do not reject religion 
 altogether, is to regard it, practically, as a theory, to be studied 
 in the closet, and publicly acknowledged in the church, and 
 attended to on Sundays, but (according to the notion of Parson 
 Adams's wife) not to be profaned by any association with the 
 week-day transactions of lifei. And children are even more 
 liable to this error than grown persons, because they are less 
 capable of abstraction ; less qualified, therefore, for applying 
 the system of general principles — the theory — they may have 
 learned, to particular cases of practice, if they are not accus- 
 tomed to see these principles exemplified. And, it should be 
 added, that as they have the greater need of this help, so they 
 can also better tolerate it ; as they require to have general prin- 
 ciples illustrated by application to particular cases of conduct, 
 so they can endure and relish a more distinctly moral tale, than 
 would be acceptable to adults ; whose very censure indeed of 
 such a work, by the epithet " puerile," seems to confirm what 
 has been just said. 
 
 Selected stories out of scripture, put into language better 
 accommodated to children than that of an exact translation'^, 
 seem to have been, till very lately, almost the only attempt to 
 give a pleasing interest to useful instruction, and a profitable 
 character to amusement ; and even of these we find no trace (or 
 hardly any) before the time of Mrs. Trimmer. 
 
 ' " There is an extreme reluctance 
 amongst many who are very zealous sup- 
 porters of the outward establishment of 
 Christianity, to admitting its principles 
 in the concerns of common life, in mat- 
 ters belonging to their own trade or pro- 
 fession ; or, above all, in the conduct of 
 national affairs. They will not tolerate 
 its spirit in their every day practice, but 
 ridicule it as visionary and inipractica 
 ble. Now, if the language of sermons 
 be vague and general ; if it do not apply 
 clearly and directly to our own times, 
 our own ways of life, and habits of 
 thought and action, men elude its hold 
 upon their consciences with a wonderful 
 dexterity ; and keeping their common 
 
 practice safe out of the reach of its in- 
 fluence, they deceive themselves by their 
 willingness to hear it, and by their ac- 
 quiescence, and even their delight in it." 
 — Preface to Dr. Arnold's Sermons. 
 
 ' " Even with regard to tlie scripture 
 itself, it is surely the spirit of it, and not 
 the language, which is of eternal appli- 
 cation and efficacy ; and that spirit will 
 generally be most effectually conveyed in 
 our writings, through a medium different 
 from that wliich was originally chosen ; 
 because we and the first converts to 
 Christianity are so different in climate, 
 in national customs and feelings ; in our 
 trains of thought and modes of expres- 
 sion." — Preface to Dr. Arnold's Sermons. 
 
818 
 
 JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 It must, we think, be admitted by all who are convinced of 
 the truth and of the importance of our religion, that an early 
 familiarity with the fads connected with it, conveyed either in 
 the words of scripture itself, or in some others, is of the highest 
 consequence. Christianity is an historical religion : it derives 
 not only its evidence, but its doctrines also, not from philoso- 
 phical speculations, but from certain events alleged to have 
 taken place. And moreover, 
 
 " As children," (says one of the best writers [Mrs. Hoare] on 
 education which this or any age has produced,) " are little capable 
 of receiving abstract ideas, it is probable that they will not derive 
 much benefit from being instructed in doctrines separate from facts. 
 — By facts, we may convey a strong and simple view of the most 
 important truths of Christianity. If, for example, we can represent 
 in lively colours to their imaginations, the beautiful history of our 
 Lord calming the storm when ' the waves beat into the ship,' and 
 his voice was ' mightier than the noise of many waters,' they will 
 imbibe a' stronger and more practical sense of his almighty power, 
 than could have been imparted to them by any bare statement of 
 his divinity. We shall also best be able to impress upon their 
 minds his infinite mercy and compassion towards us, by reading or 
 relating to them, so as to realize the transactions, and interest the 
 feelings, such narratives as those of our Lord's taking the infants in 
 his arms, and blessing them ; of his raising the widow's son, of his 
 healing the lunatic child ; and, lastly, of his suffering and dying for 
 our sakes, that we might be made the heirs of eternal life." — Hints 
 on Early Education. 
 
 But, besides this historical knowledge of religion, and incul- 
 cation of general moral precepts, it is essential to right education 
 that children should be familiarized with the application, in 
 biography or in fiction, of religious and moral principles, to the 
 ordinary conduct either of children, or of persons with whose 
 feelings and situations children can sympathize. 
 
 And this view seems of late to have been so generally ad- 
 mitted, as to have given rise to a number of (better or worse 
 executed) attempts, to enbody in works calculated to amuse 
 children, more or less, not only of scientific, but also of moral 
 and religious instruction. Not, of course, that there are not 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 319 
 
 Still in use many books -which have no such object ; but many 
 of our readers must well remember, that in their younger days, 
 Whittington and his Cat, Jack the Giant-killer, and other tales 
 of the same stamp, were in the hands of older children than 
 now, and constituted a much larger proportion of the youthful 
 library. 
 
 No system can be without its own specific evils and dangers ; 
 but, on the whole, we consider that change which in this depart- 
 ment characterizes the present day, as a decided improvement. 
 We say, on the whole, because we are sensible that it is only 
 with some important limitations and modifications that the 
 assertion can be maintained. 
 
 In the first place, if children are allowed to be familiar with 
 moral and religious feelings and conduct, in works of fiction, and 
 no tvhere else, books of this description will do more harm than 
 good, or at the best will be wholly unprofitable. Virtue and 
 piety will by this means become associated in their minds with 
 fable; and they will thus be led into that fallacy to which 
 human nature is always prone, especially in all that relates to 
 the conscientious regulation of our conduct, that of regarding 
 any system as " true in theory, but unfit for practice ;" as if the 
 falsity, or at least imperfection, of any theory, were not at once 
 demonstrated by an experimental failure. We remember a stu- 
 dent of mathematics, after having gone through and seemingly 
 understood Euclid's proof, that the squares of the sides con- 
 taining a right angle are equal to the square of the side 
 subtending it, remarking, to the astonishment and dismay of 
 his teacher, "but it is not really so, is it Sir?" Many who 
 would laugh at this query, might yet be found assenting to all 
 the reasoning on which some political or other measure should 
 be maintained, and then coolly remarking that it is practically 
 false, though theoretically true : or, themselves maintaining 
 some principles of moral conduct, which yet they consider them- 
 selves as not bound to exemplify in their own practice, though 
 they may be very suitable to a moral tale. And in proportion 
 as men are accustomed (much more, children) to contemplate 
 
820 
 
 JDVEPriLE LIBRARY. 
 
 and admire virtue, without being taught, by example or other- 
 ■wise, that they are expected to realize the picture, they will 
 become the less fitted for the actual performance of their duties. 
 
 " Going over the theory of virtue," says Bishop Butler, " in 
 one's thoughts, talking well, and drawing fine pictures of it ; this 
 is so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form a habit 
 of it in him who thus employs himself, that it may harden the 
 mind in a contrary course, and render it gradually more insen- 
 sible ; i. e. form a habit of insensibility to all moral obligations. 
 For from our very faculty of habits, passive impressions, by 
 being repeated, grow weaker. Thoughts, by often passing 
 through the mind, are felt less sensibly ; being accustomed to 
 danger begets intrepidity, i. e. lessens fear ; to distress, lessens 
 the passion of pity ; to instances of other's mortality, lessens the 
 sensible apprehension of our own." And such a mode of educa- 
 tion deceives the parent as well as the child. A false security 
 is engendered in the mind : they think that they have provided 
 a good moral and religious training, when they have not ; when 
 they have only informed the understanding by imparting a 
 knowledge of good principles, without affording discipline to the 
 heart by teaching the application of them : a procedure which 
 resembles an attempt to teach a child a language by merely 
 learning grammar rules, without parsing, construing, and com- 
 posing. 
 
 With respect to the books employed, that care is requisite in 
 the choice of them is too obvious to be insisted on. But we 
 must not omit to notice a mistake into which some of the best 
 intentioned writers have fallen, in their zeal to impart to children 
 religious principles. They have sometimes introduced a reference 
 to these principles in connexion with matters too trifling and 
 undignified ; forgetting the maxim, whose notorious truth has 
 made it proverbial, that excessive familiarity breeds contempt. 
 "We have already entered our protest against the notion, that 
 religious principles are to be kept in reserve for rare and great 
 occasions, and excluded from the every-day affairs of life; milla 
 enini vitce pars —vacare officio potest ? but still every one must 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 321 
 
 admit, that there are occasions on which the introduction of 
 religious motives would not be (at least to a mind not yet 
 possessing a full-formed and deep-rooted religious habit,) 
 attended with any benefit which would compensate for the risk, 
 to a tender and growing character, of impairing, by mean 
 associations, the reverence due to the highest subjects. 
 
 It may be replied, however, that according to this rule no re- 
 ference of religion to practice — to such practice, i. e. as children 
 are themselves concerned in, can ever be presented to their 
 minds ; because in what are considered as the weightier affairs 
 of life, they are not engaged : all that commands or can com- 
 mand their attentive sympathy, must be what, to us, are trifles. 
 So that if religion is to be kept apart from these, it cannot be 
 exhibited to them at alt in a practical point of view. 
 
 All this we admit ; and we admit also that the more prevailing 
 tendency is towards the contrary extreme to that against which 
 our caution was directed ; towards the extreme of avoiding too 
 much the practical resort to the highest principles in ordinary 
 life - — towards the preservation of a due reverence for religion, at 
 the expense of its useful application in conduct. But a line 
 may be drawn which will keep clear of both extremes. We 
 should not exclude, in books designed for children, the association 
 of things sacred with whatever are to ourselves- trifling matters, 
 (for " these little things are great" to them,) but, Afith whatever 
 is viewed by them as trifling. Every thing is great or small in 
 reference to the parties concerned-. The private concerns of any 
 obscure individual are very insignificant to the world at large ; 
 bat they are of great importance to himself And all worldly 
 affairs must be small in the sight of the Most High ; but irreve- 
 rent familiarity is engendered in the mind of any one, then, and 
 then only, when things sacred are associated with such as are, 
 to him, insignificant trifles. 
 
 And here an important distinction presents itself, between 
 religious and moral truths on the one hand, and those of science 
 on the other, which are also frequently conveyed to youthful 
 minds through the medium of amusing tales and dialogues. A 
 W. E. Y 
 
,322 
 
 JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 child cannot be made too familiar with arithmetic or geography, 
 with botany or mechanics. Even ludicrous associations will 
 here frequently have their use, on account of the superior hold 
 which, (according to the observation of the poet',) they are 
 frequently found to have on the memory : and if the truths of 
 any science are but understood and remembered, that is all we 
 want. Even if the youth should seldom or never have occasion 
 to make any practical application of his knowledge till long 
 after, it is not of the less value to have it familiarized to the 
 mind and ready for use when wanted. Not so with religion 
 and morality : they are to be taught not as mere sciences, but 
 as practical habits: and not only is the utility of good princi- 
 ples, considered in this point of view, destroyed by degrading 
 associations, but also, even if that evil be avoided, a familiar 
 knowledge of these principles if disjoined from practice, is so 
 far from being of any advantage, that, according to the obser- 
 vation of Bishop Butler already cited, it is even detrimental to 
 the moral character. 
 
 Another caution which we would suggest relative to the 
 choice of books, is to avoid presenting to the minds of children 
 anything too abstruse and mystical to be in any degree embraced 
 by their understandings, or to interest their feelings ; lest an 
 association, perhaps indelible, be formed in the tender mind 
 between the idea of religion, and that of the dry, the abstruse, 
 the unintelligible, and the purely speculative. 
 
 We do not of course mean to countenance the error of those 
 who advocate the omission, in works designed for children, (and 
 indeed for the great mass of the people,) of every thing in Chris- 
 tianity which is peculiar to it, — in short of all that they call 
 " doctrinal " points, retaining only moral precepts ; on the ground 
 that children and the vulgar cannot comprehend " mysteries." 
 There is indeed much that is mysterious (in the modern^ sense 
 of the word, i. e. unexplained, and probably inexplicable to Man) 
 
 ' " Discit enim citius meminitque libentius illud 
 
 Quod quia deridet, quam quod probat et veneratur." — HORAT. 
 * Not in the ancient sense. See the Article Mvarfiptov in Parkhurst's Lexicon. 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 323 
 
 connected with the most important doctrines of Christianity ; 
 but if we were, on that ground, to keep back all such doc- 
 trines from children, as if those doctrines themselves were there- 
 fore unintelligible to them, we should be waiting for a period 
 which can never arrive in this world ; since of things beyond 
 the reach of human faculties the wisest man can understand no 
 more than a child. We are persuaded that most of the leading 
 truths of Christianity can be not only in a great degree compre- 
 hended, but comprehended in their practical import, by persons 
 much below maturity of age ; though a perfect comprehension 
 of them is unattainable by Man : and of truths purely specula- 
 tive, having no practical import, we believe that few or none are 
 revealed. We would have children gradually instructed first, in 
 the facts on which our religion rests ; and, through the me- 
 dium of these, in christian doctrines, as far as, and in propor- 
 tion as, they become capable of embracing them, and of forming 
 a notion of their practical utility. And we cannot but think 
 that in proportion as this mode of education is pursued, the 
 remnants of scholastic divinity which still, to a considerable de- 
 gree, linger amongst protestants, would gradually wear out; 
 the Scriptures would be searched, not for (what they do not 
 contain) a system of theological philosophy, — a set of specula- 
 tive dogmas relative to the intrinsic nature of the Deity, — but 
 for religion properly so called, i.e. a practical knowledge of the 
 rehitions between God and Man ; and the cultivation of active 
 religious principles would take the place of a barren veneration 
 for things sacred. 
 
 We are glad to be able again to appeal to the judgment 
 of the deservedly popular author before cited. 
 
 " It is of great importance that all religious instruction be given 
 to children with reference to practice. If they are taught that God 
 is their Creator and Preserver, it is that they may obey, love, and 
 adore Him ; if, that Christ is their Almighty Saviour, it is that they 
 may love Him, give themselves up to Him, and trust in Him alone for 
 forgiveness and salvation. If, that the Holy Spirit is the ' Lord and 
 Giver of life,' it is that they should beware of grieving that secret 
 guide, which will lead them out of evil, will enable them to bfjt&g 
 
 Y 3 
 
324 
 
 JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 forth the fruits of righteousness, and prepare them for a state of 
 blessedness hereafter. 'J'he omnipresence of God should, also, be 
 strongly and practically impressed upon the mind in early life, not 
 only as a truth peculiarly calculated to influence the conduct, but, 
 as a continual source of consolation and support in trouble and 
 danger. 
 
 " It is to be remembered, that religious instruction is not to be 
 forced upon children : wisdom is required in communicating it to 
 them, that we may give them ' food convenient ' for them, nourishing 
 them, not with strong meat, but with the ' sincere milk of the Word,' 
 that they may grow thereby ; making the best use of the natural 
 and gradual opening of their understandings : and we may ac- 
 knowledge, with thankfulness, that there is something in the human 
 mind which answers to the most simple and sacred truths : — the 
 mind of man seems formed to receive the idea of Him who gave it 
 being. A premature accuracy of religious knowleilge is nut to be 
 desired with children : but that the views of divine truth which 
 they receive, shoidd be sound and scriptural, and so commu- 
 nicated as to touch the conscience."- — Hints on Early Education, 
 pp. 151 — 153. 
 
 It need hardly be observed how important it is, •with a view 
 to these objects, to abstain carefully from the practice, still too 
 prevalent, though much less so, we believe, than formerly, of com- 
 pelling, or encouraging, or even allowing children to learn by 
 rote forms of prayer, catechism, hymns, or in short any thing 
 connected with morality and religion, when they attach no mean- 
 ing to the words they utter. It is done on the plea that they 
 •will hereafter learn the meaning of what they have been thus 
 taught, and will be able to make a practical use of it. But no 
 attempt at economy of time can be more injudicious. Let any 
 child whose capacity is so far matured as to enable him to com- 
 prehend an explanation, e.g. of the Lord's Prayer, have it then 
 put before him for the first time, and when he is made acquaint- 
 ed with the meaning of it, set to learn it by heart ; and can any 
 one doubt that in less than half a day's application he would be 
 able to repeat it fluently ? And the same would be the case with 
 other forms. All that is thus learned by rote by a child before 
 he is competent to attach a meaning to the words he utters, would 
 not, if all put together, amount to so much as would cost him 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 325 
 
 •when able to understand it, a week's labour to learn perfectly. 
 Whereas it may cost the toil, often the vain toil, of many years, 
 to unlearn the habit of formalism — of repeating words by rote 
 without attending to their meaning ; a habit which every one 
 conversant with education knows to be in all subjects most rea- 
 dily acquired by children, and with difficulty avoided even with 
 the utmost care of the teacher ; but which such a plan must in- 
 evitably tend to generate. It is often said, and very truly, that 
 it is important to form early habits of piety; but to train a child 
 in one kind of habit, is not the most likely way of forming the 
 opposite one : and nothing can be more contrary to true piety, 
 than the Popish superstition (for such in fact it is) of attaching 
 efficacy to the repetition of a certain form of words, as of a 
 charm, independent of the understanding and of the heart'. 
 
 It is also said, with equal truth, that we ought to take advan- 
 tage of the facility which children possess of learning words : 
 but to infer from thence, that Providence designs us to make 
 such a use (or rather abuse) of this gift, as we have been cen- 
 suring, is as if we were to take advantage of the readiness with 
 
 ' We have spoken with so much com- i should wait for his being not only" capa- 
 
 mendation of the Hints on Early Edti- , ble of behaving," with outward decorum, 
 
 cation, that we feel bound to notice in- j hut also of understanding and joining ia 
 
 cidentally a point in which we think the j the service. 
 
 author, if not herself mistaken, is likely | We would also deprecate, by the way, 
 
 to lead her readers into a mistake — I the practice (which this writer seems to 
 
 "Public Worship— Silence, self sub- countenance, though without any express 
 
 jection, and a serious deportment, both inculcation) of strictly prohibiting chil- 
 
 in family and public worsliip, ought to dren from indulging in their usual sports 
 
 be strictly enforced in early life ; and it j on the Lord's day ; which has a manifest 
 
 is bettor that children should not attend, i tendency to associate with that festival, 
 
 till they are capable of behaving in a | ideas of gloom and restraint, and also to 
 
 proper manner. But a practical refpcct ' generate the too common notion that 
 
 for thu Sabbath and for services of reli- i God requires of us onli/ one day in seven, 
 
 gion, is but an effect of that reverence and tliat scrupulous privation on that 
 
 for cverij thing sacred, which it is of pri- day will afford licence (or the rest of the 
 
 mary importance early to establish as a week. We are speaking, be it observed, 
 
 habit of mind." — pp 172,173. If " re- of the christian festival of the Lord's 
 
 Terence for things sacred " be the only day ; those who think themselves bound 
 
 habit we wish to implant, the caution by the precepts of the Old Testament re- 
 
 here given is sufficient : but if we would lative to the Sabbath, should remember 
 
 form in the child the much more impor- that Saturday is the day to which tnose 
 
 tant habit of hearty devotion, as distin- I precepts apply, 
 
 guished from saperstitious formalism, we ' 
 
326 
 
 JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 which a new-born babe swallows whatever is put into its mouth, 
 to dose it with ardent spirits, instead of wholesome food and ne- 
 cessary medicine. The readiness with which children learn and 
 remember words, is in truth a most important advantage if rightly 
 employed; viz., if applied to the acquiring that mass of what 
 may be called arhifrartj knowledge of insulated facts, which can 
 only be learned by rote, and which is necessary in after-life; 
 when the acquisition of it would both be more troublesome, and 
 would encroach on time that might otherwise be better em- 
 ployed. Chronology, names of countries, weights and measures, 
 and indeed all the words of any language, are of this descrip- 
 tion. If a child had even ten times the ordinary degree of the 
 faculty in question, a judicious teacher would find abundance of 
 useful employment for it, without resorting to any that could 
 possibly be detrimental to his future habits, moral, religious, or 
 intellectual. 
 
 Among the cautions to be exercised in the choice of books 
 for children, there is one which is pressed upon our notice by 
 the character which pervades the works of one of the best 
 known, and in other respects most judicious writers in this de- 
 partment : we mean, to keep a watchful eye at least over those 
 which inculcate morality, with an exclusion of all reference 
 to religious principle. Such is obviously and notoriously the 
 character of Miss Edgeworth's moral tales. It is not merely that 
 they contain no lessons of piety, no distinct inculcation of reli- 
 gious doctrine; but there is in them a complete, and, as it 
 should seem, studied avoidance of the whole subject. 
 
 The most amiable, nay, the most noble and generous charac- 
 ters are represented, — the most pure and virtuous actions are 
 narrated, — without the least allusion to religious principle as 
 having any thing to do with them. And so entire and resolute 
 is this exclusion, that it is maintained at the expense of what 
 may be called poetical truth : it destroys in many instances the 
 probability of the tale, and the naturalness of the characters. 
 We are not now occupied with the question whether Christianity 
 is true or false ; and certainly, we cannot in fairness call on any 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 327 
 
 one to inculcate and recommend any thing different from what 
 he himself believes'. But that Christianity does exist, every 
 one must believe as an incontrovertible truth ; nor can any one, 
 we conceive, deny, that, whether true or false, it does exercise, at 
 least is supposed to exercise, an influence on the feelings and con- 
 duct of some of the believers in it. Grant that our hopes of 
 salvation through Christ, are as chimerical as the notions of the 
 Hindoos ; still it would be possible and it is surely true, that 
 this hope may stimulate the Christian to exertion, and may con- 
 sole him under misfortunes. But let even this be denied ; let it 
 be said that the virtuous Christian would, from an innate sense 
 of propriety, have displayed equal rectitude and equal patience 
 if he had been an unbeliever ; still it must at least be admitted, 
 that he himself thinks otherwise ; — that he does pray for divine 
 guidance, and support under affliction ; and that he does, whe- 
 ther erroneously or not, attribute his own virtue and fortitude 
 to his christian faith. 
 
 To repi-esent therefore persons of various ages, sex, country, 
 and station in life, as practising, on the most trying occasions, 
 every kind of duty, and encountering every kind of danger, 
 difficulty, and hardship, while no one of them ever makes the 
 least reference to a religious motive, is as decidedly at variance 
 with reality, — what is called in works of fiction, unnatural ; as 
 it would be to represent Mahomet's enthusiastic followers as 
 rushing into battle without any thought of his pi-omised paradise. 
 
 Now if we were to imagine, e.g. a Chinese forming his ideas 
 of the English nation wholly from these tales, he would never 
 suppose that any such thing as the christian religion had ever 
 
 ' Let it not be supposed that we mean 
 by this expression, to question the re- 
 ligious belief of the excellent writer 
 whose works for children have suggested 
 the present remarks. Miss Edgeworth's 
 omission of religious motives, however 
 contrary to our notions, we believe to 
 arise from a benevolent though misguided 
 desire of enlarging her own sphere of 
 nsefulness. Unable to touch on religion 
 
 in a manner tliat might not offend a 
 great number of Christians, Miss E. pro- 
 bably did not perceive how easily the 
 great motives to virtue proclaimed in tlie 
 gospel, may be brought into full opera- 
 tion in a moral narrative, without any 
 reference to the points of controversy 
 between the various denominations of 
 Christians. 
 
328 
 
 JUVENILE LIBEABY, 
 
 even been heard of among us ; mucli less, had ever been thought 
 of as influencing the character, and as an essential part of educa- 
 tion. And he would be the better justified in drawing such a 
 conclusion, from the remarkable prominence given to the moral, 
 in every tale, and their instructive design being most anxiously 
 pointed out. Yet such a conclusion would be very far indeed 
 (though we would wish it were much farther still) from the 
 truth. This therefore is a blemish in point of art, which every 
 reader possessing taste must perceive, whatever may be his reli- 
 gious or non-religious persuasion. 
 
 Our present business however, is not with the question of 
 taste, but of practical utility. Tales of such a description as we 
 have been speaking of, should be placed in children's hands with 
 great caution. Many of them are too valuable in other respects 
 to be excluded. But besides the intermixture of tales exempt 
 from this defect, the youthful reader should also from time to 
 time, be himself warned of it ; and this, not by merely telling 
 him in general terms, that in such and such a story there is no 
 mention of religion, but by pointing out that the representation 
 of disinterested, systematic, thorough-going virtue, in such and 
 such an instance, is wanting in one point — the reference to chris- 
 tian motives^ to render it «a^wra/; that to realize such a picture, 
 it is absolutely necessary, if not for all, at least for the great body 
 of mankind, to resort to those principles which in the fiction are 
 unnoticed. It must be pointed out in short to the young reader, 
 that all these^' things that are lovely and of good report" which 
 have been placed before him, are the genuine fruits of the Holy 
 Land, though the spies who have brought them, bring also an evil 
 report of that land, and would persuade us to remain wandering 
 in the wilderness. 
 
 The particular fault, however, which we have been noticing, is 
 not of course the only one of the same class, that is to be guarded 
 against. Every system and every subdivision of opinion respect- 
 ing points of religion and morals, has its advocates and its oppo- 
 nents among the list of nursery authors. All cannot of course 
 be in the right ; but all have a right to present to the world the 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 329 
 
 result of their owa sincere conviction ; leaving each parent to 
 decide what he shall receive, and what reject. We have nothing 
 to do at present with the question how far in any case the hold- 
 ing of erroneous principles is deserving of censure ; but none 
 certainly is due to the promulgation of those which any one does 
 honestly hold. 
 
 It is however a censurable, though not a very uncommon 
 practice, to insert in children's books statements, and reasons, 
 and descriptions, which, it must be supposed, the writers of 
 them know to be untrue. In this respect we fear the works put 
 into children's hands too much correspond with the language 
 they hear from parents and nurses, To evade disagreeable 
 questions, — to satisfy a child's doubting mind, — to induce him 
 to do what we wish, — or even to save trouble to his instructor, 
 — falsehood is commonly resorted to without scruple ; and yet 
 wonder and displeasure are expressed if the child grow up un- 
 scrupulous himself in the use of tricks and false pretences ; and 
 if he regard with suspicion those who have thus abused his con- 
 fidence. As reasonably might one expect cleanly habits from 
 one who had been reared in a sty with swine, as a frank, open, 
 unsuspicious love of truth from him who has been made in 
 childhood first the dupe, and afterwards the imitator, of false- 
 hood. So far is it from being true, that a lie to children is 
 allowable or insignificant, that no deceit (relative to matters in 
 themselves of small moment) practised on adults, can be near 
 so mischievous, or consequently so criminal. 
 
 But on this point we cannot do better than support our views 
 by an appeal to a writer of as high authority on the subject, as 
 experience and good sense can confer : — 
 
 " Let all who are engaged in the care of children consider it a 
 duty of primary, of essential importance, never to deceive them, 
 never to employ cunning to gain their ends, or to spare present 
 trouble. Let them not, for instance, to prevent a fit of crying, 
 excite expectation of a pleasure which they are not certain can be 
 procured ; or assure a child that the medicine he must take is nice, 
 -when they know to the contrary. If a question be asked them, 
 
330 
 
 JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 whicli they are unwilling or unable to answer, let them freely con- 
 fess it, and beware of assuming power or knowledge which they do 
 not possess ; for all artifice is not only sinful, but is generally 
 detected, even by children : and we shall experience the truth of 
 the old proverb, ' a cunning trick helps but once, and hinders ever 
 after.' No one who is not experimentally acquainted with children, 
 would conceive how clearly they distinguish between truth and 
 artifice ; or how readily they adopt those equivocal expedients in 
 their own behalf, which, they perceive, are practised against them." 
 — Hints on Early Education. 
 
 How far however the writer may in any case be chargeable 
 with wilful deceit, it is not easy positively to determine, nor is 
 it practically needful ; it is the teacher's business to clear his 
 own conscience, {her's perhaps we should rather say,) and to pro- 
 tect the purity of the youthful mind from all risk of the con- 
 tamination of deceit, by pointing out and protesting against 
 every thing of the kind, even in matters the most trivial. Take 
 an instance from Mrs. Trimmer's Easy Introduction to the 
 Knoioledge of Nature, p. 70, 17th edition. We prefer select- 
 ing examples from books in the highest repute. " It grieves me 
 to be obliged to kill any of the poor chickens ; but as I told you 
 in respect to the sheep and oxen, were we to suffer them all to 
 live, thej would die of hunger, and cause us to do so too, for 
 they would eat up all the wheat and barley, and we should have 
 neither bread nor meat for our use." 
 
 This does well enough, it may be said, to satisfy a child. 
 True : but he is satisfied only for a very short time : it sooner 
 or later occurs to him, that no danger of being overstocked with 
 horses, compels us to feed on their flesh ; and on the other hand, 
 that sheep and poultry are reared on purpose to be killed and 
 eaten. The same detection awaits the other reason with which 
 children are sometimes deceived, on the same point, viz. that the 
 flesh of animals is necessary for onr sustenance ; the child, per- 
 haps, at th'e very same time is reading accounts of nations sub- 
 sisting almost entirely on rice, maize, &c. which, together with 
 his own observation of those of our peasantry, whose diet is 
 almost exclusively bread and potatoes, soon undeceive him ; and 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 331 
 
 when the imposition has been detected, the author of it is liable 
 to the proverbial penalty of not being believed even when he 
 speaks truth. 
 
 But of all frauds, incomparably the most pernicious are 
 pious frauds. We select an instance from the Footstep to Mrs. 
 Trimmer's Sacred History : — 
 
 " On the seventh day God rested from his work, and blessed all 
 that He had made. Thus we keep every seventh day holy to the 
 Lord, in v^'hich we do no work ; to remind us of God's mercy, in 
 creating all things for our use in six days." 
 
 No doubt the author had the pious intention of inculcating in 
 the easiest and readiest way a due reverence for the Lord's Day ; 
 trusting that the child will not, for the present, find out that 
 Saturday is the seventh day, and that the day on which we " go 
 to church," &c. is commemorative of the Lord's resurrection on 
 the day after the sabbath. 
 
 A little book, entitled Spring Blossoms, which contains seve- 
 ral stories and dialogues, which would be not ill-calculated for 
 children of six or eight years old, were it not too full of Jine 
 language, contains two accounts of divine judgments, (for such 
 they are represented,) one, the sudden death of a naughty boy, 
 who took a bird's nest, (p. 38,) the other the loss of an eye by a 
 fish-hook, as a judgment for angling, (p. 147.) It is true, that 
 such accidents may occur ; but it is not true that they are judg- 
 ments ; or that a boy is more likely to break his'neck in climb- 
 ing a tree, to take a bird's eggs, than if it had been with the 
 humane desire of restoring them ; nor is it true, in short, that 
 temporal judgments form the sanction of the christian religion. 
 And all this, children will soon find out ; they will soon discover 
 that many naughty boys do not break their necks ; and that an 
 heroic zeal to rescue a fellow -creature, does not always secure a 
 man from being drowned in the attempt ; and when such false 
 grounds of a trust in Providence have been removed, if it be 
 afterwards rebuilt on a truer foundation, small thanks are due 
 to the deceitful instructor ; for how is the child to know that he 
 
332 
 
 JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 has not been deceived all through in what he has been told about 
 religion ? And who will undertake to say, that no part of the 
 scepticism and irreligion that exist in the world, can be traced 
 to the early association thus formed between religion and impos- 
 ture ? In the long run, it will always be found that honesty is 
 the best policy. 
 
 These, however , and many other blemishes of less importance, 
 whether arising from the ignorance and misconception, or the 
 prejudices or indiscretion of the writers, are to be found in many 
 books, too useful on the whole, to be on such grounds rejected 
 by instructors. They are only recommended carefully to look 
 over whatever is put into their pupils' hands, and to correct the 
 faults either with the scissors, the pen, or an oral explanation. 
 In some cases, this last may lead to profitable discussions with 
 the child : in others, to such as would be unnecessarily perplex- 
 ing and unsatisfactory ; which had therefore better be avoided 
 by erasing a passage, or destroying a leaf. 
 
 We cannot dismiss the subject without bearing testimony to 
 the excellence of all Mrs. Hack's publications that we have met 
 with ; their simplicity and good sense, and the skill with which 
 they are adapted to convey, in a pleasing manner, the most 
 valuable instructions to children of the various ages for which 
 they are respectively designed. Some of them indeed, particu- 
 larly her Evidences^ though not above the comprehension of a 
 child of twelve years old, may be perused with advantage by 
 almost any one. Mrs. Sherwood and Mrs. Cameron are among 
 the most copious and most attractive contributors to the J'ni'ewi/e 
 Library; and their tales, though not exempt from occasional 
 blemishes, are, for the most part, as instructive as they are in- 
 teresting to their young readers. 
 
 We also feel bound to add a word of praise to the elementary 
 works of the Rev. I. Taylor, as combining amusement with a 
 great mass of useful information. We wish, however, that in 
 his interesting account of British manufactures he had abstained 
 from instilling into the minds of children some very questionable 
 
JUVENILE LIBRARY. 
 
 333 
 
 notions connected with political economy'. We would inculcate 
 it as a most important maxim in every branch of instruction, not 
 to assert any thing as unquestionably true, on which there are 
 strong grounds for doubt. 
 
 The little book last mentioned at the head of this Article, 
 though the most unassuming in the whole circle of the Juvenile 
 Library, should not be left unnoticed. It contains the facts 
 which are the origin and foundation of the christian faith, so 
 simply stated, that a child seven or eight years old, cannot fail 
 to understand them ; so afFectingly told, that a grown person, in 
 whose bosom that faith is not quite extinguished, will not read 
 them without emotion. 
 
 ' " A very costly manufacture of lace ! 
 once flourished at Honiton in Devon- 
 shire ; but laces of that expensive sort 
 are not so much worn now as formerly ; 
 but it is to be regretted; as ladies who 
 Lave plenty of money are supporting in- 
 dustrious manufacturers when they spend 
 gome of it in tbis via.y ."—Scenes of Bri- 
 tieh Wealth, p 27. " A Mechlin head- 
 dress, our grandmothers used to say, 
 though it cost twenty guineas, would last 
 
 a lady her whole life. The fashion is not 
 now for what will last a lady her life, 
 she better likes to have sometliing new 
 every year, or even two or three times 
 every season " lb. p. 28. Young people 
 who read these two sentences, must be at 
 a loss whether the present ladies or their 
 grandmothers are most entitled to praise 
 for the application of tlieir money to the 
 support of industrious manufacturers. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Abstraction, use of 67 
 
 Advocate, profession of 17, 21 
 
 American Indians, anecdote of 54 
 
 Aristotle, his Morals 101 
 
 Arnold, Dr., his Sermons 317 
 
 Assar, tribe of ... . 180 
 
 Balaam 191 
 
 Bantam, King of 209 
 
 Barbarians 33 
 
 Barrister, profession of 20 
 
 Baxter, reviewer of 53 
 
 Beagle, voyage of the 34 
 
 Berkeley 37 
 
 Birkbeck, Mr 212 
 
 British Critic 118 
 
 Bridgeman, Laura 70 
 
 Buonaparte, history of 92 
 
 Butler, Bp 6, 21 
 
 Cadmus 85 
 
 Calvin 109 
 
 Cameron, Mrs 332 
 
 Canaan, land of 178 
 
 Caprice, attributed to the Deity 105 
 
 Cat, sagacity of 64 
 
 Catlin, ]\Ir 48 
 
 Ceremonies 163 
 
 Changes, love of 160 
 
 Children, Egyptian 129, 133 
 
 Cholera in Poland 207 
 
 Chosen, the 195 
 
 Chronicles, Book of 180, 203 
 
 Clerical profession 5 
 
 Committee on Transportation 268 
 
 Common-sense 209 
 
 Conversion Ill 
 
INDEX. 335 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Copernican System 203 
 
 Copleston, Bp 4, 144 
 
 Copts 134 
 
 Corn-dealer 19, 79 
 
 Correction 250 
 
 Counsel, licence of 22 
 
 Cowley 149 
 
 Creation, vestiges of 41 
 
 Custom 173 
 
 Darwin, Mr 34, 68 
 
 Deaf-mutes 69 
 
 Death-led 15 
 
 Defoe 38 
 
 Deuteronomy 1 85 
 
 Development, theory of 47 
 
 Division of labour 33 
 
 Docility, proves Keason 63 
 
 Dog, sagacitj' of 63 
 
 Dream, supposable 140 
 
 Duty, notion of 102 
 
 Edinburgh 199 
 
 — Eeview 48 
 
 Edgeworth, Miss 326 
 
 Education 173 
 
 Elect, the 195 
 
 Emigration, for whom suitable 239 
 
 Ephraim, tribe of 180 
 
 Essay, ancient meaning of 151 
 
 Evidences of Christianity 60 
 
 Evidences, study of 112 
 
 Evil Eye 131 
 
 Experience 209 
 
 Ezekiel 181 
 
 Familiarity, dangers of 319 
 
 Fatalism 135 
 
 Felldhin 120 
 
 Female writers 301 
 
 Fig-tree, barren 7 
 
 Fools, diverse characters of 295 
 
 Fuegians 27 
 
 Genesis, Book of 41 
 
 Germans, ancient « 
 
336 INDEX. 
 
 German metaphysics 145 
 
 Gibbon, infidelity of 55 
 
 Gipsies ' .... 190 
 
 Government, British 138 
 
 Graves^s Lectures 91 
 
 Grei/, Governor ................. 35 
 
 Hack, Mrs 332 
 
 Hale, Sit Matt 22 
 
 Hannibal 1 
 
 Harvey 159 
 
 History 283 
 
 Hohbes 106 
 
 Horse, rashness of 163 
 
 Humboldt ..... 43 
 
 i/wme, on miracles * 118 
 
 Improbable 285 
 
 Innovations 155 
 
 Ireland, attempted division of, from England 199 
 
 Israel, restoration of 194 
 
 James, Apostle 193 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth, the most remarkable person 179 
 
 Judge, office of 21 
 
 Kent, insurgents in 207 
 
 King, Archbishop 97 
 
 Koran, the standard of Arabic 103 
 
 Lamarck 47 
 
 Language, uses of 69 
 
 Lardner . 91 
 
 Latin version of Scripture 157 
 
 Laura Bridgeman 70 
 
 Legal profession 16 
 
 Licence of Counsel 22 
 
 Love 310 
 
 Mahometans, appeal to the style of the Koran 103 
 
 Maize, cultivated in Canada 213 
 
 Manchester 199 
 
 \Mancocapac 35 
 
 Mandan Indians 48 
 
 Maories 35 
 
 Mawiage of Savages 31 
 
INDEX. 337 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Martinus ScriUerus, his shield 145 
 
 Materialism 14 
 
 Medical profession 11 
 
 Memory, abuse of 324 
 
 Messiah 185 
 
 Microscope • 87 
 
 Misselto, Bacon's theory of 150 
 
 Money, love of 29 
 
 Moral-attributes of the Deity 103 
 
 Mormoniles 56 
 
 Moses 185 
 
 Moth, rashness of 163 
 
 Muddy-water, mistaken for deep 145 
 
 Myriads of believing Jews 189 
 
 National Schools 206 
 
 Nature, state of 30 
 
 Natural Theology 93 
 
 New- Hollanders 31, 37 
 
 New Zealand 38 
 
 Niebhur 43 
 
 Nile 125 
 
 Nobility 152 
 
 Nominalism 73 
 
 North, Sir Dudley 23 
 
 Pagan Religions 110 
 
 Papuans 27 
 
 Party 175 
 
 Peat-bogs 279 
 
 Peruvians 35 
 
 Pious Frauds 9 
 
 Plantations 169 
 
 Plaster of Paris 217 
 
 Pleader, profession of 17 
 
 Poetry 283 
 
 Poisoning, Egyptian ^ . . . . 130 
 
 Poland 207 
 
 Political Economy 209 
 
 Population ^ 107 
 
 Praise 170 
 
 Prevention of crime 250 
 
 Prometheus 35 
 
 Promises, mistake of Paley respecting 106 
 
 Prophecy, divine, test of 183 
 
 Punishments 250, 266 
 
 Z 
 
338 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Realism 72 
 
 Reasoning 17 
 
 — peculiar to Man 73 
 
 Restoration, temporal, of Israel 194 
 
 Retribution 250 
 
 Rhetoric, elements of 25 
 
 Robinson Crusoe 28 
 
 Rousseau, theory of 27 
 
 Roussel, his theory 102 
 
 Royal Families, in Egypt 129 
 
 Sabbath 108, 325, 331 
 
 Sandford and Merlon 148 
 
 Savages, character of 27 
 
 Scripture History 42 
 
 Seditions 165 
 
 Sermons, Paley's 109 
 
 Sherwood, Mrs 332 
 
 Signs, general use of 66 
 
 Slavery 272 
 
 Smith's Voyage of St. Paul 91 
 
 — President 44 
 
 — Adam 253 
 
 Socialism 206 
 
 Society, Natural History of 32 
 
 St. Lawrence, Kiver 225 
 
 Style, change of 157 
 
 Sumptuary Laws 167 
 
 Tacitus 33, 209 
 
 Tameness, of Animals 83 
 
 Tattooing of Savages 31 
 
 Taylor, m o 332 
 
 — Dr. Cooke 32 
 
 Time, effects attributed to 59 
 
 Timidity, alleged, of those who appeal to evidence 53 
 
 Trn>es, the ten ^ 193 
 
 — the twelve 193 
 
 Trimmer, Mrs 330 
 
 Tucker, Paley's guide . . 106 
 
 Turks 120 
 
 United States, American 212 
 
 Unity, religious 169 
 
 Unnatural 285 
 
 Usury, 167 
 
INDEX. 339 
 
 PAOE 
 
 Vestiges of creation 41 
 
 Virtue, distinguished from prudence 99 
 
 Voluntary System 10 
 
 War . 165 
 
 Westminster Eeview 45, 203 
 
 Wildness of animals 83 
 
 Women, kidnapping of 275 
 
 Work, how to be used as a punishment 279 
 
 Zechariah 192 
 
 Zingaries 190 
 
 THE END. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 FEINTED BY GEORGE PHTPPS, 13 & 14, TOTHILL STREET, 
 WESTMINSTER. 
 
1