PR 4oaa .57 ^-iVf^ ^ nolo ( X. IS30 ■■V Booklets in !(ew & Fancy Bindings, A SERIES of short, practical, and interesting voi- umes, daintily bound, and intended to fill the wants of those desiring inexpensive booklets of real value for gift purposes. Price, 35c. per volume. BLESSING OF CHEERFULNESS (THE). By the Rev. J. R. Miller, D.D. CHILDREN'S WING (THE). Bv Elizabeth Glover. CONFLICTING DUTIES. By E. S. Elliott. DO WE BELIEVE IT? By E. S. Elliott. EXPECTATION CORNER. By E. S. Elliott. FAMILY MANNERS. By author of "Talks about a Fine Art," etc. GIRLS : FAULTS AND IDEALS. By the Rev. J. R. Miller, D.D. JESSICA'S FIRST PRAYER. B,v Hcsba Stretton. XING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER (THE). By John Ruikin. LADDIE. Bv the author of " Miss Toosey's Mission." LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. By Ralph Waldo Emerson. MASTER AND MAN. By Count Lyof N. Tolstoi. MISS TOOSEY'S MISSION. Bv the author of "Laddie." REAL HAPPENINGS. Bv Mrs. Marv B. Claflin. SECRETS OF HAPPY HOME LIFE. By the Rev. J. R. Mill-M-, ]).]). STILLNESS AND SERVICE. By E. S. EUiott. SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. By Matthew Arnold. TALKS ABOUT A FINE ART. Bv Elizabeth Glover. TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE. l]v E. S. Elliott. TWO PILGRIMS (THE). Bv Count Lyof N. Tolstoi. VICTORY OF OUR FAITH' (THE). By Anna Robert- son llrown, Pii.D. WHAT IS WORTH W^HILE. By Anna Robertson Brown, rii.l). WHAT MEN LIVE BY. Bv Count Lvof N. Tolstoi. WHEN THE KING COMES TO HIS O'vVN. By E. S. Elliott. WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO. By Count Lvof N. Tolstoi. YOUNG MEN : FAULTS AND IDEALS. By the Rev. J. R. Miller, D.D. For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, by the ■ publistiers, on receipt of price. Thomas Y.Crowell & Co., NewYork & Boston. Sweetness and Light BY MATTHEW ARNOLD New York : 46 East Fourteenth Street THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY Boston : 100 Purchase Street Transfer Army and March 3,1931 Manyaitf) INTEODUCTION. In one of his speeches a short time ago, that fine speaker and famous Liberal, Mr. Bright, took occasion to have a fling at the friends and preacliers of culture. ^' People Avho talk about what they call culture ! " said he contemptuously j " by which they mean a smattering of the two dead languages of Greek and Latin." And he went on to remark, in a strain with which modern speakers and writers Jiavj* made us very familiar, how poor a thing this culture is, how little good it can do the world, and how absurd it is for its possessors to set much store by it. And the other day a younger Liberal than Mr. Bright, one of a school whose mission it is to bring into order and system that body of truth with which the earlier Liberals merely fumbled, a member of the University of Oxford, and a very clever writer, Mr. Frederic Harrison, developed, in the systematic and stringent manner of his school, the thesis which Mr. Bright had propounded in only general terms. "Per- haps the very silliest cant of the day," said Mr. Frederic Harrison, "is the cant about culture. Culture is a 3 4 INTRODUCTION. desirable quality in a critic of new books, and sits well on a possessor o£ belles-lettres ; but as applied to politics, it means simply a turn for small fault-finding, love of selfisli ease, and indecision in action. The man of cul- ture is in politics one of the poorest mortals alive. For simple pedantry and v\ra.nt of good sense no man is his equal. No assumption is too unreal, no end is too un- practical for him. But the active exercise of politics requires common-sense, sympathy, trust, resolution, and enthusiasm, qualities which your man of culture has carefully rooted up, lest they damage the delicacy of his critical olfactories. Perhaps they are the only class of responsible beings in the community who cannot with safety be intrusted with power." ^ow, for my part, I do not wish to see men of culture asking to be intrusted with power ; and, indeed, I have freely said, that in my opinion the speech most proper, at present, for a man of culture to make to a body of his fellow-countrymen who get him into a committee-room, is Socrates' Knoiv thyself! and this is not a speech to be made by men wanting to be intrusted with power. For this very indifference to direct political action I have been taken to task by the Dally Telegraph, coupled, by a strange perversity of fate, with just that very one of the Hebrew prophets whose style I admire the least, and called '^ an elegant Jeremiah." It is because I say (to use the words which the Daily Telegra'ph puts in my INTB OD UCTION. 5 moiitli) : " You miistii't make a fuss because you have no vote, — that is vulgarity ; you mustn't hold big meetings to agitate for reform bills and to repeal corn laws, — that is the very height of vulgarity," — it is for this reason that I am called sometimes an elegant Jere- miah, sometimes a spurious Jeremiah, a Jeremiah about the reality of whose mission the writer in the Bail >j Telegraph has his doubts. It is evident, therefore, that I have so taken my line as not to be exposed to the whole brunt of Mr. Frederic Harrison's censure. Still, I have often spoken in praise of culture, I have striven to make all my works and ways serve the interests of culture. I take culture to be something a great deal more than what Mr. Frederic Harrison and others call it : "a desirable quality in a critic of new books." Nay, even though to a certain extent I am disposed to agree with Mr. Frederic Harrison, that men of culture are just the class of responsible beings in this community of ours who cannot properly, at present, be intrusted with power, I am not sure that I do not think this the fault of our community rather than of the men of culture. In short, although like Mr. Bright, and Mr. Frederic Harrison, and the editor of the Daily Telegraph, and a large body of valued friends of mine, I am a Liberal, yet I am a Liberal tempered by experience, reflection, and renouncement, and I am, above all, a believer in culture. Therefore I propose now to try and inquire, 6 INTRODUCTION. in the simple unsystematic way wliich best suits both my taste and my powers, what culture really is, what good it can do, what is our own special need of it ; and I shall seek to find some plain grounds on which a faith in culture — both my own faith in it and the faith of others — may rest securely. SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. BY MATTHEW ARNOLD. The disparagers of culture make its motive curiosity ; sometimes, indeed, they make its motive mere exclusive- ness and vanity. The culture which is supposed to plume itself on a smattering of Greek and Latin is a culture which is begotten by nothing so intellectual as curiosity ; it is valued either out of sheer vanity and ignorance, or else as an engine of social and class dis- tinction, separating its holder, like a badge or title, from other people who have not got it. No serious man would call this mdtuve^ or attach any value to it, as cul- ture, at all. To find the real ground for the very differ- ent estimate which serious people will set upon culture, we must find some motive for culture in the terms of which may lie a real ambiguity ; and such a motive the Word curiosity gives us. I have before now pointed out that we English do not, like the foreigners, use this word in a good sense as well as in a bad sense. With us the word is always used in a somewhat disapproving sense. A liberal and intelli- 7 8 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. gent eagerness about the things of the mind may be meant by a foreigner when he speaks of curiosity, but with us the word always conveys a certain notion of frivolous and unedifying activity. In the Quarterly Revieiv, some little time ago, was an estimate of the cel- ebrated French critic, M. Sainte-Beuve, and a very in- adequate estimate it in my judgment was. And its inadequacy consisted chiefly in this : that in our English way it left out of sight the double sense really involved in the word curiosity, thinking enough was said to stamp M. Sainte-Beuve with blame if it was said that he was impelled in his operations as a critic by curiosity, and omitting either to perceive that M. Sainte-Beuve himself, and many other people with him, would consider that this was praiseworthy and not blameworthy, or to point out Avhy it ought really to be accounted worthy of blame and not of praise. For as there is a curiosity about in- tellectual matters which is futile, and merely a disease, so there is certainly a curiosity — a desire after the things of the mind simply for their oAvn sa.kes and for the pleasure of seeing them as they are — which is, in an intelligent being, natural and laudable. Nay, and the very desire to see things as they a.re implies a balance and regulation of mind which is not often attained with- out fruitful effort, and which is the very opposite of the blind and diseased impulse of mind which is Avhat we mean to blame when we blame curiosity. Montesquieu SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 9 says : " The first motive whicli ought to impel us to study is the desire to augment the excellence of our nature, and to render an intelligent being yet more in- telligent." This is the true ground to assign for the genuine scientific passion, however manifested, and for culture, viewed simply as a fruit of this passion ; and it is a worthy ground, even though we let the term curios- it?/ stand to describe it. But there is of culture another view, in which not solely the scientific passion, the sheer desire to see things as they are, natural and proper in an intelligent being, appears as the ground of it. There is a view in which all the love of our neighbor, the impulses towards action, help, and beneficence, the desire for removing human error, clearing human confusion, and diminishing human misery, the noble aspiration to leave the world better and happier than we found it, — motives emi- nently such as are called social, — come in as part of the grounds of culture, and the main and pre-eminent part. Culture is then properly described not as having its origin in curiosity, but as having its origin in the love of perfection ; it is a stud?/ of 2:>erfecfio7i. It moves by the force, not merely or primarily of the scientific passion for pure knowledge, but also of the moral and social passion for doing good. As, in the first view of it, we took for its worthy motto Montesquieu's words: " To render an intelligent being yet more intelligent ! " 10 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. SO, in the second view of it, tliere is no better motto wMcli it can have than these words of Bishop Wilson : " To make reason and the will of God prevail ! '' Only, whereas the passion for doing good is apt to be over hasty in determining what reason and the will of God say, because its turn is for acting rather than think- ing, and it wants to be beginning to act; and whereas it is apt to take its own conceptions, which proceed from its own state of development, and share in all the imperfections and immaturities of this, for a basis of action. What distinguishes culture is, that it is pos- sessed by the scientific passion as well as by the passion of doing good ; that it demands worthy notions of rea- son and the will of God, and does not readily suffer its own crude conceptions to substitute themselves for them. And knowing that no action or institution can be salu- tary and stable which is not based on reason and the will of God, it is not so bent on acting and instituting, even with the great aim of diminishing human error and misery ever before its thoughts, but that it can re- member that acting and instituting are of little use, unless we know how and what we ought to act and to institute. This culture is more interesting and more far-reaching than that other, which is founded solely on the scien- tific passion for knowing. But it needs times of faith and ardor, times when the intellectual horizon is open- SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 11 iiig and widening all round us, to flourish in. And is not tlie close and bounded intellectual horizon within which we have long lived and moved now lifting up, and are not new lights finding free passage to shine in upon us ? For a long time there was no passage for them to make their way in upon us, and then it was of no use to think of adapting the world's action to them. Where was the hope of making reason and the will of God prevail among people who had a routine which they had christened reason and the will of God, in which they were inextricably bound, and bej^ond which they had no power of looking ? But now the iron force of adhesion to the old routine — social, political, reli- gious — has wonderfully yielded ; the iron force of ex- clusion of all which is new has wonderfully yielded. The danger now is, not that people should obstinately refuse to allow anything but their old routine to pass for reason and the will of God, but either that they should allow some novelty or other to pass for these too easily, or else that they should underrate the importance of them altogether, and think it enough to follow action for its own sake, without troubling themselves to make reason and the will of God prevail therein. Now, then, is the moment for culture to be of service, culture which believes in making reason and the will of God prevail, believes in perfection, is- the study and pursuit of per- fection, and is no longer debarred, by a rigid invincible 12 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. exclusion of whatever is new, from getting acceptance for its ideaS; simply because they are new. The moment this view of culture is seized, the mo- ment it is regarded not solely as the endeavor to see things as they are, to draw towards a knowledge of the universal order which seems to be intended and aimed at in the world, and which it is a man's happiness to go along with or his misery to go counter to, — to learn, in short, the will of God, — the moment, I say, culture is considered, not merely as the endeavor to see and learn this, but as the endeavor, also, to make it jirevail, the moral, social, and beneficent character of culture becomes manifest. The mere endeavor to see and learn the truth for our own personal satisfaction is indeed a com- mencement for making it prevail, a j)i'eparing the way for this, which always serves this, and is Avrongly, there- fore, stamped with blame absolutely in itself, and not only in its caricature and degeneration. But perhaps it has got stamped with blame, and disparaged with the dubious title of curiosity, because in comparison with this wider endeavor of such great and plain utility it looks selfish, petty, and unprofitable. And religion, the greatest and most important of the efforts by Avhich the human race has manifested its impulse to perfect itself, — religion, that voice of the deepest human experience, — does not only enjoin and sanction the aim which is the great aim of culture, the SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 13 aim of setting ourselves to ascertain wliat perfection is and to make it prevail ; but also, in determining gener^ ally in what human perfection consists, religion comes to a conclusion identical with that which culture — cul- ture seeking the determination of this question through all the voices of human experience which have been heard upon it, of art, science, poetry, philosophy, history, as well as of religion, in order to give a greater fulness and certainty to its solution — likewise reaches. Eeli- gion says : The idngdom of God is within you ; and culture, in like manner, places human perfection in an internal condition, in the growth and predominance of our humanity proper, as distinguished from our ani- mality. It x:)laces it in the ever-increasing efficacy and in the general harmonious expansion of those gifts of thought and feeling which make the peculiar dignity, Avealth, and happiness of human nature. As I have said on a former occasion : " It is in making endless additions to self, in the endless expansion of its powers, in endless growth in wisdom and beauty, that the spirit of the human race finds its ideal. To reach this ideal, culture is an indispensable aid, and that is the true value of culture." Not a having and a resting, but a growing and a becoming, is the character of perfection as culture conceives it ; and here, too, it coincides with religion. And because men are all members of one great whole, and the sympathy v.hich is in human nature will not 14 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. allow one member to be indifferent to the rest, or to have a perfect welfare independent of the rest, the ex- pansion of our humanity, to suit the idea of perfection which culture forms, must be a general expansion. Per- fection, as culture conceives it, is not x^ossible while the individual remains isolated. The individual is required, under pain of being stunted and enfeebled in his own development if he disobeys, to carry others along with him in his march towards perfection, to be continually doing all he can to enlarge and increase the volume of the human stream sweeping thitherward. And here, once more, culture lays on us the same obligation as religion, which says, as Bishop Wilson has admirably put it, that "to promote the kingdom of God is to in- crease and hasten one's own happiness." But, finally, perfection — as culture from a thoroughly disinterested study of human nature and human experi- ence learns to conceive it — is a harmonious expansion of all the powers which make the beauty and worth of human nature, and is not consistent with the over-devel- opment of any one power at the expense of the rest. Here culture goes beyond religion, as religion is gener- ally conceived by us. If culture, then, is a study of perfection, and of har- monious perfection, general perfection, and perfection which consists in becoming something rather than in having something, in an inward condition of the mind SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 15 and spirit, not in an outward set of circumstances, — it is clear that culture, instead of being the frivolous and useless thing which Mr. Bright and Mr. Frederic Harri- son, and many other Liberals, are apt to call it, has a very important function to fulfil for mankind. And this func- tion is particularly important in our modern world, of which the whole civilization is, to a much greater degree than the civilization of Greece and Eome, mechanical and external, and tends constantly to become more so. But above all in our own country has culture a weighty part to perform, because here that mechanical character, Avhicli civilization tends to take everywhere, is shown in the most eminent degree. Indeed, nearly all the char- acters of perfection, as culture teaches us to fix them, meet in this country with some powerful tendency which thwarts them and sets them at defiance. The idea of per- fection as an imvard condition of the mind and spirit is at variance with the mechanical and material civilization in esteem with us, and nowhere, as I have said, so much in esteem as with us. The idea of perfection as a gen- eral expansion of the human family is at variance with our strong individualism, our hatred of all limits to the unrestrained swing of the individual's personality, our maxim of " every man for himself." Above all, the idea of perfection as a liarmonious expansion of human nature is at variance with our Avant of flexibility, with our inaptitude for seeing more than one side of a thing, 16 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. with our intense, energetic absorption in the particular pursuit we happen to be following. So culture has a rough task to achieve in this country. Its preachers have, and are likely long to have, a hard time of it ; and they will much oftener be regarded, for a great while to come, as elegant or spurious Jeremiahs than as friends and benefactors. That, however, will not prevent their doing in the end good service if they persevere. And, meanwhile, the mode of action they have to pursue, and the sort of habits they must fight against, ought to be made quite clear for every one to see, who may be will- ing to look at the matter attentively and dispassion- ately. Faith in machinery is, I said, our besetting danger; often in machinery most absurdly disproportioned to the end which this machinery, if it is to do any good at all, is to serve ; but always in machinery, as if it had a value in and for itself. What is freedom but machin- ery ? what is population but machinery ? what is coal but machinery ? what are railroads but machinery ? what is wealth but machinery ? what are, even, reli- gious organizations but machinery ? Now, almost every voice in England is accustomed to speak of these things as if they were precious ends in themselves, and there- fore had some of the characters of perfection indisput- ably joined to them. I have before now noticed Mr. Boebuck's stock argument for proving the greatness and SWEETNESS AND LIGHT, 17 happiness of England as she is, and for quite stopping the mouths of all gainsayers. Mr. lioebuck is never weary of reiterating this argument of his, so I do not know why I should be weary of noticing it. " May not every man in England say what he likes ? " Mr. Eoe- buck perpetually asks ; and that, he thinks, is quite sufficient, and when every man may say what he likes, our aspirations ought to be satisfied. But the aspira- tions of culture, Avhich is the study of perfection, are not satisfied, unless what men say, when they may say what they like, is worth saying — has good in it, and more good than bad. In the same way the Times y re- plying to some foreign strictures on the dress, looks, and behavior of the English abroad, urges that the English ideal is that every oue should be free to do and look just as he likes. But culture indefatigably tries, not to make what each raw person may like the rule by which he fashions himself, but to draw ever nearer to a sense of what is indeed beautiful, graceful, and be- coming, and to get the raw person to like that. And in the same way with respect to railroads and coal. Every one must have observed the strange lan- guage current during the late discussions as to the possi- ble failures of our supplies of coal. Our coal, thousands of people were saying, is the real basis of our national greatness 5 if our coal runs short, there is an end of the greatness of England. But what is greatness ? cul- 18 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. ture makes us ask. Greatness is a spiritual condition worthy to excite love, interest, and admiration ; and the outward proof of possessing greatness is that we excite love, interest, and admiration. If England were swal- lowed up by the sea to-morrow, which of the two, a hundred years hence, would most excite the love, in- terest, and admiration of mankind, — would most, there- fore, show the evidences of having possessed greatness, — the England of the last twenty years, or the England of Elizabeth, of a time of splendid spiritual effort, but when our coal, and our industrial operations depending on coal, were very little developed ? Well, then, Avhat an unsound habit of mind it must be which makes us talk of things like coal or iron as constituting the great- ness of England, and how salutary a friend is culture, bent on seeing things as they are, and thus dissipating delusions of this kind and fixing standards of perfection that are real ! Wealth, again, that end to which our prodigious works for material advantage are directed, the com- monest of commonplaces tells us how men are apt to regard wealth as a precious end in itself ; and cert?anly they have never been so apt thus to regard it as they are in England at the present time. Never did people believe anything more firmly than nine Englishmen out of ten at the present day believe that our greatness and welfare are proved by our being so very rich. Now, SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 19 the use of culture is that it helps us, by means of its spiritual standard of perfection, to regard wealth but as machinery, and not only to say as a matter of words that we regard wealth as but machinery, but really to perceive and feel that it is so. If it were not for this purging effect wrought upon our minds by culture, the whole world, the future as well as the present, would inevitably belong to the Philistines. The people who believe most that our greatness and welfare are x^roved by our being very rich, and who most give their lives and thoughts to becoming rich, are just the very people Avhom we call Philistines. Culture says : " Consider these people, then, their way of life, their habits, their manners, the very tones of their voice ; look at them attentively ; observe the literature they read, the things which give them pleasure, the words which come forth out of their mouths, the thoughts Avhich make the fur- niture of their minds ; would any amount of wealth be worth having with the condition that one was to become just like these people by having it?" And thus cul- ture begets a dissatisfaction which is of the highest possible value in stemming the common tide of men's thoughts in a wealthy and industrial commuuity, and which saves the future, as one may hope, from being vulgarized, even if it cannot save the present. Population, again, and bodily health and vigor, are things which are nowhere treated in such an unintelli- 20 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. gent, misleading, exaggerated way as in England. Both are really machinery; yet how many people all around ns do we see rest in them and fail to look beyond them ! Why, one has heard pe-ople, fresh from reading certain articles of the Times on the Eegistrar-General's returns of marriages and births in this country, who would talk of our large English families in quite a solemn strain, as if they had something in itself beautiful, elevating, and meritorious in them; as if the British Philistine would only have to present himself before the Great Judge with his twelve children, in order to be received among the sheep as a matter of right ! But bodily health and vigor, it may be said, are not to be classed Avith wealth and population as mere ma- chinery; they have a more real and essential value. True ; but only as they are more intimately connected with a perfect s^^iritual condition than wealth or popula- tion are. The moment we disjoin them from a perfect spiritual condition, and pursue them, as we do pursue them, for their own sake, and as ends in themselves, our worship of them becomes as mere worship of ma- chinery, as our worshix) of wealth and population, and as unintelligent and vulgarizing a worship as that is. Every one, with anything like an adequate idea of hu- man perfection, has distinctly marked this subordina- tion to higher and spiritual ends of the cultivation of bodily vigor and activity. "Bodily exercise profit- SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 21 eth little ; but godliness is profitable unto all things," says the author of the Epistle to Timothy. And the utilitarian Franklin says just as explicitly : " Eat and drink such an exact quantity as suits the constitution of thy body, m reference to the services of the mind.^^ But the point of view of culture, keeping the mark of human perfection simply and broadly in view, and not assigning to this perfection, as religion or utilitarianism assigns to it, a special and limited character, — this point of view, I say, of culture is best given by these words of Epictetus : '^ It is a sign of ac^ma," says he, — that is, of a nature not finely tempered, — ^^ to give your- self up to things which relate to the body; to make, for instance, a great fuss about exercise, a great fuss about eating, a great fuss about drinking, a great fuss about walking, a great fuss about riding. All these things ought to be done merely by the way ; the formation of the spirit and character must be our real concern." This is admirable ; and indeed, the Greek word evcfivta, a finely tempered nature, gives exactly the notion of perfection as culture brings us to conceive it; a harmonious perfection, a |)erfection in which the char- acters of beauty and intelligence are both present, which unites "the two noblest of things," — as Swift, who of one of the two, at any rate, had himself all too little, most happily calls them, in his "Battle of the Books," — " the two noblest of things, siveetness and 22 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. light. ^^ The ev(fivyvy<;, on the other hand, is our Philistine. The immense spiritual significance of the Greeks is due to their having been inspired with this central and happy idea of the essential character of human perfection ; and Mr. Bright' s misconception of culture, as a smattering of Greek and Latin, comes itself, after all, from this wonderful significance of the Greeks having affected the very machinery of our edu- cation, and is in itself a kind of homage to it. In thus making sweetness and light to be characters of perfection, culture is of like spirit with poetry, fol- lows one law with poetry. Far more than on our freedom, our population, and our industrialism, many amongst us rely upon our religious organizations to save us. I have called religion a yet more important manifestation of human nature than poetry, because it has worked on a broader scale for perfection, and with greater masses of men. But the idea of beauty and of a human nature perfect on all its sides, which is the domi- nant idea of poetry, is a true and invaluable idea, though it has not yet had the success that the idea of conquer- ing the obvious faults of our animality, and of a human nature perfect on the moral side, — which is the domi- nant idea of religion, — has been enabled to have ; and it is destined, adding to itself the religious idea of a devout energy, to transform and govern the other. SWEETNESS AND LIOnT. 23 The best art and poetry of the Greeks, in which reli- gion and poetry are one, in which the idea of beauty and of a human nature perfect on all sides adds to itself a religious and devout energy, and works in the strength of that, is on this account of such surpassing interest and instructiveness for us, though it was — as, having regard to the human race in general, and, indeed, having regard to the Greeks themselves, we must own — a premature attempt, an attempt which for success needed the moral and religious fibre in humanity to be more braced and developed than it had yet been. But Greece did not err in having the idea of beauty, harmony, and complete human perfection so present and paramount. It is impossible to have this idea too present and paramount ; only, the moral fibre must be braced too. And we, because we have braced the moral fibre, are not on that account in the right way, if at the same time the idea of beauty, harmony, and complete human perfection is wanting or misappre- hended amongst us ; and evidently it is wanting or misapprehended at present. And when we rely as we do on our religious organizations, which in themselves do not and cannot give us this idea, and think we have done enough if we make them spread and prevail, then, I say, we fall into our common fault of over-valuing machinery. Nothing is more common than for people to confound 24 SWEETI{ESS AND LIGHT. the iuward peace and satisfaction wliicli follow the sub- duing of the obvious faults of our animality with what I may call absolute inward peace and satisfaction — the peace and satisfaction which are reached as we draw near to complete spiritual perfection, and not merely to moral perfection, or rather to relative moral perfection. No people in the world have done more and struggled more to attain this relative moral perfection than our English race has. For no peoi^le in the world has the command to I'esist the devil, to overcome the wicked one, in the nearest and most obvious sense of those words, had such a pressing force and reality. And we have had our reward, not only in the great worldly prosperity which our obedience to this command has brought us, but also, and far more, in great inward peace and satis- faction. But to me few things are more pathetic than to see people, on the strength of the inward peace and satisfaction which their rudimentary efforts towards perfection have brought them, employ, concerning their incomplete perfection and the religious organizations within which they have found it, language which prop- erly applies only to complete perfection, and is a far-off echo of the human soul's prophecy of it. Eeligion itself, I need hardl}^ say, supplies them in abundance with this grand language. And very freely do they use it ; 3- et it is really the severest possible criticism of such an in- complete perfection as alone we have yet reached through our religious organizations. SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 25 The impulse of the English race towards moral development and self-conquest has nowhere so power- fully manifested itself as in Puritanism. Nowhere has Puritanism found so adequate an expression as in the religious organization of the Independents. The modern Independents have a newspaper, the Noncon- formist, written with great sincerity and ability. The motto, the standard, the profession of faith, which this organ of theirs carries aloft, is : " The Dissidence of Dissent and the Protestantism of the Protestant reli- gion." There is sweetness and light, and an ideal of complete harmonious human perfection ! One need not go to culture and poetry to find language to judge it. Religion, wdth its instinct for perfection, supplies language to judge it, language, too, which is in our mouths every day. " Finally, be of one mind, united in feeling," says St. Peter. There is an ideal wdiich judges the Puritan ideal : ^' The Dissidence of Dissent and the Protestantism of the Protestant religion ! " And religious organizations like this are what people believe in, rest in, and give their lives for ! Such, I say, is the wonderful virtue of even the beginnings of perfection, of having conquered even the plain faults of our animality, that the religious organization which has helped us to do it can seem to us something ]3re- cious, salutary, and to be propagated, even when it wears such a brand of imperfection on its forehead as 26 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. tliis. And men have got such a habit of giving to the language of religion a si^ecial application, of making it a mere jargon, that for the condemnation which reli- gion itself passes on the shortcomings of their religious organizations they have no ear ; they are sure to cheat themselves and to explain this condemnation away. They can only be reached by the criticism which cul- ture, like poetry, speaking a language not to be sophis- ticated, and resolutely testing these organizations by the ideal of a human perfection complete on all sides, applies to them. But men of culture and poetry, it will be said, are again and again failing, and failing conspicuously, in the necessary first stage to a harmonious perfection, in the subduing of the great obvious faults of our animality, which it is the glory of these religious organizations to have helped us to subdue. True, they do often so fail. They have often been without the virtues as well as the faults of the Puritan ; it has been one of their dangers that they so felt the Puritan's faults that they too much neglected the practice of his virtues. I will not, however, exculpate them at the Puritan's expense. They have often failed in morality, and morality is indispensable. And they have been punished for their failure, as the Puritan has been rewarded for his per- formance. They have been punished wherein they erred ; but their ideal of beauty, of SAveetness and light, SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 27 and a human nature complete on all its sides, remains the true ideal of perfection still ; just as the Puritan's ideal of jjerfection remains narrow and inadequate, although for what he did well he has been richly re- warded. Notwithstanding the mighty results of the Pilgrim Fathers' voyage, they and their standard of perfection are rightly judged when we figure to our- selves Shakespeare or Virgil, — souls in whom sweet- ness and light, and all that in human nature is most humane, were eminent, — accompanying them on their voyage, and think what intolerable company Shake- speare and Virgil would have found them ! In the same Avay let us judge the religious organizations which we see all around us. Do not let us deny the good and the happiness which they have accomplished; but do not fail to let us see clearly that their idea of human perfection is narrow and inadequate, and that the Dissidence of Dissent and the Protestantism of the Protestant religion will never bring humanity to its true goal. As I said with regard to wealth: Let us look at the life of those who live in and for it, — so I say with regard to the religious organizations. Look at the life imaged in such a newspaper as the Noncon- formist — a life of jealousy of the Establishment, dis- putes, tea-meetings, openings of chapels, sermons ; and then think of it as an ideal of a human life completing itself on all sides, and aspiring with all its organs after sweetness, light, and x^erfection ! 28 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. Another newspaper, representing, like tlie Nonconform- ist, one of the religious organizations of this country, was a short time ago giving an account of the crowd at Epsom on the Derby day, and of all the vice and hid- eousness which was to be seen in that crowd ; and then the writer turned suddenly round upon Professor Hux- ley, and asked him how he proposed to cure all this vice and hideousness without religion. I confess I felt dis- posed to ask the asker this question : And how do you propose to cure it Avith such a religion as yours ? How is the ideal of a life so unlovely, so unattractive, so in- complete, so narrow, so far removed from a true and sat- isfying ideal of human perfection, as is the life of your religious organization as you yourself reflect it, to con- quer and transform all this vice and hideousness ? In- deed, the strongest plea for the study of perfection as pursued by culture, the clearest proof of the actual inadequacy of the idea of perfection held by the reli- gious organizations, — expressing, as I have said, the most widespread effort which the human race has yet made after perfection, — is to be found in the state of our life and society with these in possession of it, and having been in possession of it I know not how many hundred years. We are all of us included in some reli- gious organization or other ; we all call ourselves, in the sublime and aspiring language of religion which I have before noticed, children of God. Children of God, — it SWEETNESS AND LIGUT. 29 is au immense pretension ! — and liow are we to justify it ? By the works which we do, and the words which we speak. And the work which we collective children of God do, our grand centre of life, our citf/ which we have builded for us to dwell in, is London ! London, with its unutterable external hideousness, and with its internal canker of 2)u^iice egestas, pvivatwi opulentia, — . to use the Avords which Sallust puts into Cato's mouth about Kome, — unequalled in the world ! The word, again, which we children of God speak, the voice which most hits our collective thought, the newspaper with the largest circulation in England, nay, with the largest cir- culation in the whole Avorld, is the Dally Teler/raph ! I say that when our religious organizations, — which I ad- mit to express the most considerable effort after perfec. tion that our race has yet made, — land us in no better result than this, it is high time to examine carefully their idea of perfection, to see whether it does not leave out of account sides and forces of human nature whioli we might turn to great use; whether it Avould not be more operative if it were more complete. And I say that the English reliance on our religious organizations, and on their ideas of human perfection just as they stand, is like our reliance on freedom, on muscular Christianity, on population, on coal, on wealth, — mere belief in machinery, and unfruitful; and that it is whole- somely counteracted by culture, bent on seeing things as 30 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. they are, and on drawing the human race onwards to a more complete, a harmonious perfection. Culture, however, shows its single-minded love of per- fection, its desire simply to make reason and the will of God prevail, its freedom from fanaticism, by its attitude towards all this machinery, even while it insists that it is machinery. Fanatics, seeing the mischief men do themselves by their blind belief in some machinery or other, — whether it is wealth and industrialism, or whether it is the cultivation of bodily strength and activity, or whether it is a political organization, or whether it is a religious organization, — oppose with might and main the tendency to this or that political and religious organization, or to games and athletic ex- ercises, or to wealth and industrialism, and try violently to stop it. But the flexibility which sweetness and light give, and which is one of the rewards of culture pursued in good faith, enables a man to see that a ten- dency may be necessary, and even, as a preparation for something in the future, salutary, and yet that the gen- erations or individuals who obey this tendency are sacri- ficed to it, that they fall short of the hope of perfection by following it ; and that its mischiefs are to be criti- cised, lest it should take too firm a hold, and last after it has served its purpose. Mr. Gladstone well pointed out, in a speech at Paris, — and others have pointed out the same thing, — how SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 31 necessary is the present great movement towards wealth and mdustrialism, in order to hay broad foundations of material well-being for the society of the future. The worst of these justifications is, that they are generally addressed to the very people engaged, body and soul, in the movement in question ; at all events, that they are always seized with the greatest avidity by these people, and taken by them as quite justifying their life ; and that thus they tend to harden them in their sins. Now, culture admits the necessity of the movement towards fortune-making and exaggerated industrialism, readily allows that the future may derive benefit from it ; but insists, at the same time, that the passing generations of industrialists — forming, for the most part, the stout main body of Philistinism — are sacrificed to it. In the same way, the result of all the games and sports which occupy the passing generation of boys and young men may be the establishment of a better and sounder physical type for the future to work with. Culture does not set itself against the games and sports ; it con- gratulates the future, and hopes it will make a good use of its improved physical basis ; but it points out that our passing generation of boys and young men is, mean- time, sacrificed. Puritanism was perhaps necessary to develop the moral fibre of the English race, Koncon- formity to break the yoke of ecclesiastical domination over men's minds, and to prepare the way for freedom 32 SWEETNESS AND LIGUT. of thought in the distant future ; still, culture points out that the harmonious perfection of generations of Puritans and Nonconformists has been, in consequence, sacrificed. Freedom of speech may be necessary for the society of the future, but the young lions of the Daily Telegrajjh in the meanwhile are sacrificed. A voice for every man in his country's government may be necessary for the society of the future, but meanwhile Mr. Beales and Mr. Bradlaugh are sacrificed. Oxford, the Oxford of the past, has many faults ; and she has heavily paid for them in defeat, in isolation, in want of hold upon the modern world. Yet we in Oxford, brought up amidst the beauty and sweetness of that beautiful place, have not failed to seize one truth — the truth that beauty and sweetness are essen- tial characters of a complete human perfection. When I insist on this, I am all in the faith and tradition of Oxford. I say boldly that this our sentiment for beauty and sweetness, our sentiment against hideousness and rawness, has been at the bottom of our attachment to so many beaten causes, of our opposition to so many trium- phant movements. And the sentiment is true, and has never been wholly defeated, and has shown its power even in its defeat. We have not won our political bat- tles, we have not carried our main points, we have not stopped our adversaries' advance, we have not marched victoriously with the modern world 5 but we have told SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 83 silently upon the mind of the country, we have ]orepared currents of feeling which sap our adversaries' position when it seems gained, we have kept up our own com- munications with the future. Look at the course of the great movement which shook Oxford to its centre some thirty years ago ! It was directed, as any one who reads Dr. Newman's " Apology " may see, against what in one word may be called " Liberalism." Liberalism prevailed ; it was the appointed force to do the work of the hour ; it was necessary, it was inevitable that it should prevail. The Oxford movement was broken, it failed 5 our wrecks are scattered on every shore : — Qum reglo in terris nostri non plena laboris ? But what was it, this liberalism, as Dr. Newman saw it, and as it really broke the Oxford movement ? It was the great middle-class liberalism, which had for the cardinal points of its belief the Eeform Bill of 1832, and local self-government, in politics; in the social sphere, free-trade, unrestricted competition, and the making of large industrial fortunes 5 in the religious sphere, the Dissidence of Dissent and the Protestantism of the Protestant religion. I do not say that other and more intelligent forces than this were not opposed to the Oxford movement ; but this was the force which really beat it ; this was the force which Dr. Newman felt himself fighting with ; this was the force which 34 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. till only the other day seemed to be the paramount force in this country, and to be in possession of the future ; this was the force whose achievements fill Mr. Lowe with such inexpressible admiration, and whose rule he was so horror-struck to see threatened. And where is this great force of Philistinism now ? It is thrust into the second rank, it is become a power of yesterday, it has lost the future. A new power has suddenly ap- peared, a power Avhich it is impossible yet to judge fully, but which is certainly a Avholly different force from middle-class liberalism — different in its cardinal points of belief, different in its tendencies in every sphere. It loves and admires neither the legislation of middle-class Parliaments, nor the local self-government of middle-class vestries, nor the unrestricted competition of middle-class industrialists, nor the dissidence of mid- dle-class Dissent and the Protestantism of middle-class Protestant religion. I am not now praising this new force, or saying that its own ideals are better ; all I say is, that they are wholly different. And who will esti- mate how much the currents of feeling created by Dr. Newman's movements, the keen desire for beauty and sweetness which it nourished, the deep aversion it man- ifested to the hardness and vulgarity of middle-class liberalism, the strong light it turned on the hideous and grotesque illusions of middle-class Protestantism — who will estimate how much all these contributed to swell SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 35 the tide of secret dissatisfaction which has mined the ground under self-confident liberalism of the last thirty years, and has prepared the way for its sudden collapse and supersession ? It is in this manner that the senti- ment of Oxford for beauty and sweetness conquers, and in this manner long may it continue to conquer ! In this manner it works to the same end as culture, and there is plenty of work for it yet to do. I have said that the new and more democratic force which is now superseding our old middle-class liberalism cannot yet be rightly judged. It has its main tendencies still to form. We hear promises of its giving us adminis- trative reform, law reform, reform of education, and I know not what ; but those promises come rather from its advocates, wishing to make a good plea for it and to justify it for superseding middle-class liberalism, than from clear tendencies Avhich it has itself yet developed. But meanwhile it has plenty of well-intentioned friends against whom culture may with advantage continue to uphold steadily its ideal of human perfection ; that this is «?^ inivard spiritual activity, having for its characters increased siveetness, increased light, increased life, in- creased sympathy. Mr, Bright, who has a foot in both worlds, the Avorld of middle-class liberalism and the world of democracy, but who brings most of his ideas from the world of middle-class liberalism in which he was bred, always inclines to inculcate that faith in ma- 36 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. chinery to which, as we have seen, Englishmen are so prone, and which has been the bane of middle-class lib- eralism. He complains with a sorrowful indignation of people who " appear to have no proper estimate of the value of the franchise ; '^ he leads his disciples to be- lieve, — what the Englishman is always too ready to believe, — that the having a vote, like the having a large family, or a large business, or large muscles, has in itself some edifying and perfecting effect upon human nature. Or else he cries out to the democracy, — " the men," as he calls them, " uj^on whose shoulders the greatness of England rests,*' — he cries out to them : " See what you have done ! I look over this country and see the cities joii have built, the railroads you have made, the manufactures you have produced, the cargoes which freight the ships of the greatest mercantile navy the world has ever seen ! I see that you have converted by your labors what was once a wilderness, these islands, into a fruitful garden; I know that you have created this wealth, and are a nation whose name is a word of power throughout all the world." Why, this is just the very style of laudation with which Mr. Eoebuck or Mr. Lowe debauches the minds of the middle classes, and makes such Philistines of them. It is the same fashion of teaching a man to value himself not on what he is, not on his progress in sweetness and light, but on the number of the railroads he has constructed, or the big- SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 37 ness of the to.bernacle he has built. Only the middle classes are told they have done it all Avith their energy, self-reliance, and capital, and the democracy are told they have done it all with their hands and sinews. But teaching the democracy to put its trust in achievements of this time is merely training them to be Philistines to take tlie place of the Philistines whom they are su- perseding; and they, too, like the middle class, will be encouraged to sit down at the banquet of the future with- out having on a wedding garment, and nothing excellent can then come from them. Those who know their beset- ting faults, those who have watched them and listened to them, or those who will read the instructive account recently given of them by one of themselves, the Joicr- neyman Engineer, wdll agree that the idea which culture sets before us of perfection, — an increased spiritual ac- tivity, having for its characters increased sweetness, increased light, increased life, increased sympathy, — is an idea which the new democracy needs far more than the idea of the blessedness of the franchise, or the won- derfulness of its own industrial performances. Other well-meaning friends of this new power are for leading it, not in the old ruts of middle-class Philistin- ism, but in ways which are naturally alluring to the feet of democracy, though in this country they are novel und untried ways. I may call them the ways of Jacob- inism. Violent indignation with the past, abstract sys- 88 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. terns of renovation applied wholesale, a new doctrine drawn up in black and white for elaborating down to the very smallest details a rational society for the future, — these are the ways of Jacobinism. Mr. Frederic Harrison and other disciples of Comte — one of them, Mr. Congreve, is an old friend of mine, and I am glad to have an opportunity of publicly expressing my respect , for his talents and character — are among the friends of democracy who are for leading it in paths of this kind. Mr. Frederic Harrison is very hostile to culture, and from a natural enough motive ; for culture is the eternal opponent of the two things which are the signal marks of Jacobinism, — its fierceness, and its addiction to an abstract system. Culture is always assigning to system-makers and systems a smaller share in the bent of human destiny than their friends like. A current in people's minds set towards new ideas ; people are dissatisfied with their old narrow stock of Philistine ideas, Anglo-Saxon ideas, or any other ; and some man, some Bentham or Comte, who has the real merit of having early and strongly felt and helped the new current, but who brings plenty of narrowness and mistakes of his own into his feeling and help of it, is credited with being the author of the whole current, the fit person to be intrusted with its regulation and to guide the human race. The excellent German historian of the mythology of SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 89 Kome, Preller, relating the introduction at Eome under the Tarquins of the worship of Apollo, the god of light, healing, and reconciliation, will have us observe that it was not so much the Tarquins who brought to Eome the new worship of Apollo, as a current in the mind of the Eoman people which set powerfully at that time towards a new worship of this kind, and away from the old run of Latin and Sabine religious ideas. In a simi- lar way, culture directs our attention to the natural current there is in human affairs, and to its continual working, and will not let us rivet our faith upon any one man and his doings. It makes us see not only his good side, but also how much in him was of necessity limited and transient ; nay, it even feels a pleasure, a sense of an increased freedom and of an ampler future, in so doing. I remember, when I Avas under the influence of a mind to which I feel the greatest obligations, the mind of a man who was the very incarnation of sanity and clear sense, a man the most considerable, it seems to me, whom America has yet produced, — Benjamin Franklin, — I remember the relief with which, after long feeling the sway of Franklin's imperturbable common-sense, I came upon a project of his for a new version of the Book of Job, to replace the old version, the style of which, says Franklin, has become obsolete, and thence less agreeable. " I give," he continues, " a few verses, 40 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. wMcli may serve as a sample of tlie kind of version I would recommend." We all recollect the famous verse in our translation, " Then Satan answered the Lord, and said : Doth Job fear God for naught ? '^ Franklin makes this : " Does- your majesty imagine that Job's good conduct is the effect of personal attachment and affection ? " I v/ell remember how, Avhen first I read that, I drew a deep breath of relief, and said to myself : " After all, there is a stretch of humanity beyond Eranklin's victorious- good sense ! " So, after hearing Bentham cried loudly up as the renovator of modern society, and Bentham's mind and ideas proposed as the rulers of our future, I open the ^' Deontology." There I read : '^ While Xenophon was writing his history, and Euclid teaching geometry, Socrates and Plato were talk- ing nonsense under pretence of talking wisdom and morality. This morality of theirs consisted in vv^ords : this wisdom of theirs was the denial of matters known to every man's experience.'^ From the moment of read- ing that, I am delivered from bondage of Bentham ! the fanaticism of his adherents can touch me no longer. I feel the inadequacy of his mind and ideas for supply- ing the rule of human society, for perfection. Culture tends always thus to deal with the men of a system, of disciples, of a school ; with men like Comte, or the late Mr. Buckle, or Mr. Mill. However much it may iind to admire in these personages, or in some of SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 41 them^ it nevertheless remembers the text : ''- Be not ye called Eabbi ! " and it soon passes on from any Eabbi. But Jacobinism loves a Babbi ; it does not want to pass on from its Kabbi in pursuit of a future and still un- reached perfection ; it wants its Kabbi and his ideas to stand for perfection, that they may with the more au- thority recast the world ; and for Jacobinism, therefore, culture — eternally passing onwards and seeking ■ — ■ is an impertinence and an offence. But culture, just be- cause it resists this tendency of Jacobinism to impose on us a man with limitations and errors of his own along with the true ideas of which he is the organ, really does the world and Jacobinism itself a service. So too, Jacobinism, in its fierce hatred of the past, and of those whom it makes liable for the sins of the past, cannot away with the inexhaustible indulgences proper to culture, the consideration of circumstances, the severe judgment of actions joined to the merciful judgment of j)ersons. " The man of culture is in poli- tics,'^ cries Mr. Frederic Harrison, " one of the poorest mortals alive ! " Mr. Frederic Harrison wants to be doing business, and he complains that the man of cul- ture stops him with a '' turn for small faultfinding, love of selfish ease, and indecision in action." Of what use is culture, he asks, except for " a critic of new books or a professor of belles-lettres " ? Why, it is of use, because, in presence of the fierce exasperation which breathes, or 42 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. rather, I may say, hisses through the whole production ill which Mr. Frederic Harrison asks that question, it reminds us that the perfection of human nature is sweet- ness and light. It is of use, because, like religion, — that other effort after perfection, — it testifies that, where bitter envying and strife are, there is confusion and every evil work. The pursuit of perfection, then, is the pursuit of sweet- ness and light. He who works for sweetness and light works to make reason and the will of God prevail. He who works for machinery, he who works for hatred, works only for confusion. Culture looks beyond machin- ery, culture hates hatred ; culture has one great passion, the passion for sweetness and light. It has one even yet greater ! — the passion for making them 2^revail. It is not satisfied till we all come to a perfect man ; it knows that the sweetness and light of the few must be imperfect until the raw and unkindled masses of humanity are touched with sweetness and light. If I have not shrunk from saying that we must work for sweetness and light, so neither have I shrunk from saying that we must have a broad basis, must have sweetness and light for as many as possible. Again and again I have insisted how those are the happy moments of humanity, how those are the marking epochs of a people's life, how those are the flowering times for literature and art, and all the crea- tive x^ower of genius, when there is a 7iatio7ial glow of SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 43 life and thought, when the whole of society is in the fullest measure permeated by thought, sensible to beauty, intelligent and alive. Only it must be real thought and real beauty, real sweetness and real light. Plenty of people Avill try to give the masses, as they call them, an intellectual food prepared and adapted in the way they think proper for the actual condition of the masses. The ordinary popular literature is an example of this way of working on the masses. Plenty of people will try to indoctrinate the masses with the set of ideas and judgments constituting the creed of their own profession or party. Our religious and political organizations give an example of this Avay of working on the masses. I condemn neither way ; but culture works differently. It does not try to teach down to the level of inferior classes ; it does not try to win them for this or that sect of its own, with ready-made judgments and watchwords. It seeks to do away with classes ; to make the best that has been thought and known in the world current every- where ; to make all men live in an atmosphere of sweet- ness and light, where they may use ideas, as it uses them itself, freely, — nourished, and not bound by them. This is the social idea ; and the men of culture are the true apostles of equality. The great men of culture are those who have had a passion for diffusing, for making prevail, for carrying from one end of society to the other, the best knowledge, the best ideas of their 44 SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. time ; who have labored to divest knowledge of all that was harsh, uncouth, difficult, abstract, professional, exclusive ; to humanize it, to make it efficient outside the clique of the cultivated and learned, yet still remain- ing the best knowledge and thought of the time, and a true source, therefore, of sweetness and light. Such a man was Abelard in the Middle Ages, in spite of all his imperfections ; and thence the boundless emotion and enthusiasm which Abelard excited. Such were Lessing and Herder in Germany, at the end of the last century ; and their services to Germany were in this way ines- timably precious. Generations will pass, and literary monuments will accumulate, and works far more perfect than the works of Lessing and Herder will be produced in Germany ; and yet the names of these two men will fill a German with a reverence and enthusiasm such as the names of the most gifted masters will hardly awaken. And why ? Because they humanized knowl- edge; because they broadened the basis of life and intelligence; because they worked powerfully to diffuse SAveetness and light, to make reason and the will of God prevail. With St. Augustine they said : " Let us not leave thee alone to make in the secret of thy knowl- edge, as thou didst before the creation of the firmament, the division of light from darkness ; let the children of thy spirit, placed in their firmament, make their light shine upon the earth, mark the division of night and SWEETNESS AND LIGHT. 45 day, and announce the revolution of the times ; for the okl order is passed, and the new arises ; the night is spent, the day is come forth 5 and thou shalt crown the year with thy blessing, when thou shalt send forth laborers into the harvest sown by other hands than theirs ; when thou shalt send forth new laborers to ncAV seed-times, whereof the harvest shall not be yet." LIBRARY OF CONGRESS nil III 014 387 176 9 #